The Complete Poems. Генри Уодсуорт Лонгфелло

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      He is in love.

       Don C. And is it faring ill

      To be in love?

       Hyp. In his case very ill.

       Don C. Why so?

       Hyp. For many reasons. First and foremost,

      Because he is in love with an ideal;

      A creature of his own imagination;

      A child of air; an echo of his heart;

      And, like a lily on a river floating,

      She floats upon the river of his thoughts!

       Don C. A common thing with poets. But who is

      This floating lily? For, in fine, some woman,

      Some living woman—not a mere ideal—

      Must wear the outward semblance of his thought.

      Who is it? Tell me.

       Hyp. Well, it is a woman!

      But, look you, from the coffer of his heart

      He brings forth precious jewels to adorn her,

      As pious priests adorn some favorite saint

      With gems and gold, until at length she gleams

      One blaze of glory. Without these, you know,

      And the priest's benediction, 't is a doll.

       Don C. Well, well! who is this doll?

       Hyp. Why, who do you think?

       Don C. His cousin Violante.

       Hyp. Guess again.

      To ease his laboring heart, in the last storm

      He threw her overboard, with all her ingots.

       Don C. I cannot guess; so tell me who it is.

       Hyp. Not I.

       Don. C. Why not?

       Hyp. (mysteriously). Why? Because Mari Franca

      Was married four leagues out of Salamanca!

       Don C. Jesting aside, who is it?

       Hyp. Preciosa.

       Don C. Impossible! The Count of Lara tells me

      She is not virtuous.

       Hyp. Did I say she was?

      The Roman Emperor Claudius had a wife

      Whose name was Messalina, as I think;

      Valeria Messalina was her name.

      But hist! I see him yonder through the trees,

      Walking as in a dream.

       Don C. He comes this way.

       Hyp. It has been truly said by some wise man,

      That money, grief, and love cannot be hidden.

      (Enter VICTORIAN in front.)

      Vict. Where'er thy step has passed is holy ground!

      These groves are sacred! I behold thee walking

      Under these shadowy trees, where we have walked

      At evening, and I feel thy presence now;

      Feel that the place has taken a charm from thee,

      And is forever hallowed.

       Hyp. Mark him well!

      See how he strides away with lordly air,

      Like that odd guest of stone, that grim Commander

      Who comes to sup with Juan in the play.

       Don C. What ho! Victorian!

       Hyp. Wilt thou sup with us?

       Vict. Hola! amigos! Faith, I did not see you.

      How fares Don Carlos?

       Don C. At your service ever.

       Vict. How is that young and green-eyed Gaditana

      That you both wot of?

       Don C. Ay, soft, emerald eyes!

      She has gone back to Cadiz.

       Hyp. Ay de mi!

       Vict. You are much to blame for letting her go back.

      A pretty girl; and in her tender eyes

      Just that soft shade of green we sometimes see

      In evening skies.

       Hyp. But, speaking of green eyes,

      Are thine green?

       Vict. Not a whit. Why so?

       Hyp. I think

      The slightest shade of green would be becoming,

      For thou art jealous.

       Vid. No, I am not jealous.

       Hyp. Thou shouldst be.

       Vict. Why?

       Hyp. Because thou art in love.

      And they who are in love are always jealous.

      Therefore thou shouldst be.

      Vict. Marry, is that all?

      Farewell; I am in haste. Farewell, Don Carlos.

      Thou sayest I should be jealous?

      Hyp. Ay, in truth

      I fear there is reason. Be upon thy guard.

      I hear it whispered that the Count of Lara

      Lays siege to the same citadel.

       Vict. Indeed!

      Then he will have his labor for his pains.

       Hyp. He does not think so, and Don Carlos tells me

      He boasts of his success.

       Vict. How's this, Don Carlos?

       Don. C. Some hints of it I heard from his own СКАЧАТЬ