The Winter’s Tale. Уильям Шекспир

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СКАЧАТЬ yet say ‘Sir, no going’. Verily,

      You shall not go; a lady’s ‘verily’ is

As potent as a lord’s. Will you go yet?

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      Force me to keep you as a prisoner,

      Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees

      When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?

      My prisoner or my guest? By your dread ‘verily’,

      One of them you shall be.

       Polixenes

Your guest, then, madam:

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      To be your prisoner should import offending;

      Which is for me less easy to commit

      Than you to punish.

       Hermione

      Not your gaoler then,

      But your kind hostess. Come, I’ll question you

Of my lord’s tricks and yours when you were boys.

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      You were pretty lordings then!

       Polixenes

      We were, fair Queen,

      Two lads that thought there was no more behind

      But such a day to-morrow as to-day,

      And to be boy eternal.

       Hermione

      Was not my lord

The verier wag o’ th’ two?

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       Polixenes

      We were as twinn’d lambs that did frisk i’ th’ sun

      And bleat the one at th’ other. What we chang’d

      Was innocence for innocence; we knew not

      The doctrine of ill-doing, nor dream’d

That any did. Had we pursu’d that life,

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      And our weak spirits ne’er been higher rear’d

      With stronger blood, we should have answer’d heaven

      Boldly ‘Not guilty’, the imposition clear’d

      Hereditary ours.

       Hermione

      By this we gather

      You have tripp’d since.

       Polixenes

O my most sacred lady,

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      Temptations have since then been born to ’s, for

      In those unfledg’d days was my wife a girl;

      Your precious self had then not cross’d the eyes

      Of my young playfellow.

       Hermione

      Grace to boot!

Of this make no conclusion, lest you say

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      Your queen and I are devils. Yet, go on;

      Th’ offences we have made you do we’ll answer,

      If you first sinn’d with us, and that with us

      You did continue fault, and that you slipp’d not

      With any but with us.

       Leontes

Is he won yet?

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       Hermione

      He’ll stay, my lord.

       Leontes

      At my request he would not.

      Hermione, my dearest, thou never spok’st

      To better purpose.

       Hermione

      Never?

       Leontes

      Never but once.

       Hermione

      What! Have I twice said well? When was’t before?

I prithee tell me; cram’s with praise, and make’s

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      As fat as tame things. One good deed dying tongueless

      Slaughters a thousand waiting upon that.

      Our praises are our wages; you may ride’s

      With one soft kiss a thousand furlongs ere

With spur we heat an acre. But to th’ goal:

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      My last good deed was to entreat his stay;

      What was my first? It has an elder sister,

      Or I mistake you. O, would her name were Grace!

      But once before I spoke to th’ purpose – When?

Nay, let me have’t; I long.

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       Leontes

      Why, that was when

      Three crabbed months had sour’d themselves to death,

      Ere I could make thee open thy white hand

      And clap thyself my love; then didst thou utter

      ‘I am yours for ever’.

       Hermione

’Tis Grace indeed.

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      Why, lo you now, I have spoke to th’ purpose twice:

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