Читать книгу Неизвестный Шекспир - Станислав Викторович Хромов - Страница 21

Fain would I sing but fury makes me fret,

And rage hath sworn to seek revenge of wrong;

My mazed mind in malice so is set

As death shall daunt my deadly dolours long.

Patience perforce is such a pinching pain,

As die I will or suffer wrong again.

I am no sot to suffer such abuse

As doth bereave my heart of his delight,

Nor will I frame myself to such as use

With calm consent to suffer such despite.

No quiet sleep shall once possess mine eye,

Till wit have wrought his will on injury.

My heart shall fail and hand shall lose his force,

But some device shall pay despite his due;

And fury shall consume my careful corse,

Or raze the ground whereon my sorrow grew.

Lo, thus in rage of ruthful mind refused,

I rest revenged of whom I am abused.