The Complete Poetical Works of Henry Wadsworth Longfellow. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло
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       Table of Contents

      Prec. Why will you go so soon? Stay yet awhile.

      The poor too often turn away unheard

      From hearts that shut against them with a sound

      That will be heard in heaven. Pray, tell me more

      Of your adversities. Keep nothing from me.

      What is your landlord's name?

       Ang. The Count of Lara.

       Prec. The Count of Lara? O, beware that man!

      Mistrust his pity—hold no parley with him!

      And rather die an outcast in the streets

      Than touch his gold.

       Ang. You know him, then!

       Prec. As much

      As any woman may, and yet be pure.

      As you would keep your name without a blemish,

      Beware of him!

       Ang. Alas! what can I do?

      I cannot choose my friends. Each word of kindness,

      Come whence it may, is welcome to the poor.

       Prec. Make me your friend. A girl so young and fair

      Should have no friends but those of her own sex.

      What is your name?

       Ang. Angelica.

       Prec. That name

      Was given you, that you might be an angel

      To her who bore you! When your infant smile

      Made her home Paradise, you were her angel.

      O, be an angel still! She needs that smile.

      So long as you are innocent, fear nothing.

      No one can harm you! I am a poor girl,

      Whom chance has taken from the public streets.

      I have no other shield than mine own virtue.

      That is the charm which has protected me!

      Amid a thousand perils, I have worn it

      Here on my heart! It is my guardian angel.

       Ang. (rising). I thank you for this counsel, dearest lady.

       Prec. Thank me by following it.

       Ang. Indeed I will.

       Prec. Pray, do not go. I have much more to say.

       Ang. My mother is alone. I dare not leave her.

       Prec. Some other time, then, when we meet again.

      You must not go away with words alone.

      (Gives her a purse.)

      Take this. Would it were more.

      Ang. I thank you, lady.

       Prec. No thanks. To-morrow come to me again.

      I dance to-night—perhaps for the last time.

      But what I gain, I promise shall be yours,

      If that can save you from the Count of Lara.

       Ang. O, my dear lady! how shall I be grateful

      For so much kindness?

       Prec. I deserve no thanks,

      Thank Heaven, not me.

       Ang. Both Heaven and you.

       Prec. Farewell.

      Remember that you come again tomorrow.

       Ang. I will. And may the Blessed Virgin guard you,

      And all good angels. [Exit.

       Prec. May they guard thee too,

      And all the poor; for they have need of angels.

      Now bring me, dear Dolores, my basquina,

      My richest maja dress—my dancing dress,

      And my most precious jewels! Make me look

      Fairer than night e'er saw me! I've a prize

      To win this day, worthy of Preciosa!

      (Enter BELTRAN CRUZADO.)

      Cruz. Ave Maria!

       Prec. O God! my evil genius!

      What seekest thou here to-day?

       Cruz. Thyself—my child.

       Prec. What is thy will with me?

       Cruz. Gold! gold!

       Prec. I gave thee yesterday; I have no more.

       Cruz. The gold of the Busne—give me his gold!

       Prec. I gave the last in charity to-day.

       Cruz. That is a foolish lie.

       Prec. It is the truth.

       Cruz. Curses upon thee! Thou art not my child!

      Hast thou given gold away, and not to me?

      Not to thy father? To whom, then?

       Prec. To one

      Who needs it more.

       Cruz. No one can need it more.

       Prec. Thou art not poor.

       Cruz. What, I, who lurk about

      In dismal suburbs and unwholesome lanes

      I, who am housed worse than the galley slave;

      I, who am fed worse than the kennelled hound;

      I, who am clothed in rags—Beltran Cruzado—

      Not poor!

       Prec. СКАЧАТЬ