Читать книгу King Henry IV, Part 2 - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 5

  ARCHBISHOP. Thus have you heard our cause and known our means;

    And, my most noble friends, I pray you all

    Speak plainly your opinions of our hopes-

    And first, Lord Marshal, what say you to it?

  MOWBRAY. I well allow the occasion of our amis;

    But gladly would be better satisfied

    How, in our means, we should advance ourselves

    To look with forehead bold and big enough

    Upon the power and puissance of the King.

  HASTINGS. Our present musters grow upon the file

    To five and twenty thousand men of choice;

    And our supplies live largely in the hope

    Of great Northumberland, whose bosom burns

    With an incensed fire of injuries.

  LORD BARDOLPH. The question then, Lord Hastings, standeth thus:

    Whether our present five and twenty thousand

    May hold up head without Northumberland?

  HASTINGS. With him, we may.

  LORD BARDOLPH. Yea, marry, there's the point;

    But if without him we be thought too feeble,

    My judgment is we should not step too far

    Till we had his assistance by the hand;

    For, in a theme so bloody-fac'd as this,

    Conjecture, expectation, and surmise

    Of aids incertain, should not be admitted.

  ARCHBISHOP. 'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed

    It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

  LORD BARDOLPH. It was, my lord; who lin'd himself with hope,

    Eating the air and promise of supply,

    Flatt'ring himself in project of a power

    Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts;

    And so, with great imagination

    Proper to madmen, led his powers to death,

    And, winking, leapt into destruction.

  HASTINGS. But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt

    To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.

  LORD BARDOLPH. Yes, if this present quality of war-

    Indeed the instant action, a cause on foot-

    Lives so in hope, as in an early spring

    We see th' appearing buds; which to prove fruit

    Hope gives not so much warrant, as despair

    That frosts will bite them. When we mean to build,

    We first survey the plot, then draw the model;

    And when we see the figure of the house,

    Then we must rate the cost of the erection;

    Which if we find outweighs ability,

    What do we then but draw anew the model

    In fewer offices, or at least desist

    To build at all? Much more, in this great work —

    Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down

    And set another up – should we survey

    The plot of situation and the model,

    Consent upon a sure foundation,

    Question surveyors, know our own estate

    How able such a work to undergo-

    To weigh against his opposite; or else

    We fortify in paper and in figures,

    Using the names of men instead of men;

    Like one that draws the model of a house

    Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,

    Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost

    A naked subject to the weeping clouds

    And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

  HASTINGS. Grant that our hopes – yet likely of fair birth —

    Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd

    The utmost man of expectation,

    I think we are so a body strong enough,

    Even as we are, to equal with the King.

  LORD BARDOLPH. What, is the King but five and twenty thousand?

  HASTINGS. To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph;

    For his divisions, as the times do brawl,

    Are in three heads: one power against the French,

    And one against Glendower; perforce a third

    Must take up us. So is the unfirm King

    In three divided; and his coffers sound

    With hollow poverty and emptiness.

  ARCHBISHOP. That he should draw his several strengths together

    And come against us in full puissance

    Need not be dreaded.

  HASTINGS. If he should do so,

    He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh

    Baying at his heels. Never fear that.

  LORD BARDOLPH. Who is it like should lead his forces hither?

  HASTINGS. The Duke of Lancaster and Westmoreland;

    Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth;

    But who is substituted against the French

    I have no certain notice.

  ARCHBISHOP. Let us on,

    And publish the occasion of our arms.

    The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;

    Their over-greedy love hath surfeited.

    An habitation giddy and unsure

    Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.

    O thou fond many, with what loud applause

    Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke

    Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!

    And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,

    Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him

    That thou provok'st thyself to cast him up.

    So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge

    Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;

    And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,

    And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?

    They that, when Richard liv'd, would have him die

    Are now become enamour'd on his grave.

    Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head,

    When through proud London he came sighing on

    After th' admired heels of Bolingbroke,

    Criest now 'O earth, yield us that king again,

    And take thou this!' O thoughts of men accurs'd!

    Past and to come seems best; things present, worst.

  MOWBRAY. Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?

  HASTINGS. We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.