Читать книгу The Tragedy of Othello, Moor of Venice - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 5

  MONTANO. What from the cape can you discern at sea?

  FIRST GENTLEMAN. Nothing at all. It is a high-wrought flood;

    I cannot, 'twixt the heaven and the main,

    Descry a sail.

  MONTANO. Methinks the wind hath spoke aloud at land;

    A fuller blast ne'er shook our battlements.

    If it hath ruffian'd so upon the sea,

    What ribs of oak, when mountains melt on them,

    Can hold the mortise? What shall we hear of this?

  SECOND GENTLEMAN. A segregation of the Turkish fleet.

    For do but stand upon the foaming shore,

    The chidden billow seems to pelt the clouds;

    The wind-shaked surge, with high and monstrous mane,

    Seems to cast water on the burning bear,

    And quench the guards of the ever-fixed pole.

    I never did like molestation view

    On the enchafed flood.

  MONTANO. If that the Turkish fleet

    Be not enshelter'd and embay'd, they are drown'd;

    It is impossible to bear it out.

  THIRD GENTLEMAN. News, lads! Our wars are done.

    The desperate tempest hath so bang'd the Turks,

    That their designment halts. A noble ship of Venice

    Hath seen a grievous wreck and sufferance

    On most part of their fleet.

  MONTANO. How? Is this true?

  THIRD GENTLEMAN. The ship is here put in,

    A Veronesa. Michael Cassio,

    Lieutenant to the warlike Moor, Othello,

    Is come on shore; the Moor himself at sea,

    And is in full commission here for Cyprus.

  MONTANO. I am glad on't; 'tis a worthy governor.

  THIRD GENTLEMAN. But this same Cassio, though he speak of

comfort

    Touching the Turkish loss, yet he looks sadly

    And prays the Moor be safe; for they were parted

    With foul and violent tempest.

  MONTANO. Pray heavens he be,

    For I have served him, and the man commands

    Like a full soldier. Let's to the seaside, ho!

    As well to see the vessel that's come in

    As to throw out our eyes for brave Othello,

    Even till we make the main and the aerial blue

    An indistinct regard.

  THIRD GENTLEMAN. Come, let's do so,

    For every minute is expectancy

    Of more arrivance.

  CASSIO. Thanks, you the valiant of this warlike isle,

    That so approve the Moor! O, let the heavens

    Give him defense against the elements,

    For I have lost him on a dangerous sea.

  MONTANO. I she well shipp'd?

  CASSIO. His bark is stoutly timber'd, and his pilot

    Of very expert and approved allowance;

    Therefore my hopes, not surfeited to death,

    Stand in bold cure.

                              A cry within, "A sail, a sail, a

sail!"

                        What noise?

  FOURTH GENTLEMAN. The town is empty; on the brow o' the sea

    Stand ranks of people, and they cry, "A sail!"

  CASSIO. My hopes do shape him for the governor.

                                                          Guns

heard.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN. They do discharge their shot of courtesy-

    Our friends at least.

  CASSIO. I pray you, sir, go forth,

    And give us truth who 'tis that is arrived.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN. I shall.

  MONTANO. But, good lieutenant, is your general wived?

  CASSIO. Most fortunately: he hath achieved a maid

    That paragons description and wild fame,

    One that excels the quirks of blazoning pens,

    And in the essential vesture of creation

    Does tire the ingener.

                           How now! who has put in?

  SECOND GENTLEMAN. 'Tis one Iago, ancient to the general.

  CASSIO. He has had most favorable and happy speed:

    Tempests themselves, high seas, and howling winds,

    The gutter'd rocks, and congregated sands,

    Traitors ensteep'd to clog the guiltless keel,

    As having sense of beauty, do omit

    Their mortal natures, letting go safely by

    The divine Desdemona.

  MONTANO. What is she?

  CASSIO. She that I spake of, our great captain's captain,

    Left in the conduct of the bold Iago,

    Whose footing here anticipates our thoughts

    A se'nnight's speed. Great Jove, Othello guard,

    And swell his sail with thine own powerful breath,

    That he may bless this bay with his tall ship,

    Make love's quick pants in Desdemona's arms,

    Give renew'd fire to our extincted spirits,

    And bring all Cyprus comfort.

                                  O, behold,

    The riches of the ship is come on shore!

    Ye men of Cyprus, let her have your knees.

    Hall to thee, lady! And the grace of heaven,

    Before, behind thee, and on every hand,

    Enwheel thee round!

  DESDEMONA. I thank you, valiant Cassio.

    What tidings can you tell me of my lord?

  CASSIO. He is not yet arrived, nor know I aught

    But that he's well and will be shortly here.

  DESDEMONA. O, but I fear- How lost you company?

  CASSIO. The great contention of the sea and skies

    Parted our fellowship- But, hark! a sail.

                          A cry within, "A sail, a sail!" Guns

heard.

  SECOND GENTLEMAN. They give their greeting to the citadel;

    This likewise is a friend.

  CASSIO. See for the news.

                                                      Exit

Gentleman.

    Good ancient, you are welcome. [To Emilia.] Welcome,

mistress.

    Let it not gall your patience, good Iago,

    That I extend my manners; 'tis my breeding

    That gives me this bold show of courtesy. Kisses

her.

  IAGO. Sir, would she give you so much of her lips

    As of her tongue she oft bestows on me,

    You'ld have enough.

  DESDEMONA. Alas, she has no speech.

  IAGO. In faith, too much;

    I find it still when I have list to sleep.

    Marry, before your ladyship I grant,

    She puts her tongue a little in her heart

    And chides with thinking.

  EMILIA. You have little cause to say so.

  IAGO. Come on, come on. You are pictures out of doors,

    Bells in your parlors, wildcats in your kitchens,

    Saints in your injuries, devils being offended,

    Players in your housewifery, and housewives in your beds.

  DESDEMONA. O, fie upon thee, slanderer!

  IAGO. Nay, it is true, or else I am a Turk:

    You rise to play, and go to bed to work.

  EMILIA. You shall not write my praise.

  IAGO. No, let me not.

  DESDEMONA. What wouldst thou write of me, if thou shouldst

    praise me?

  IAGO. O gentle lady, do not put me to't,