Читать книгу The Tragedy of King Lear - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 4

  Gon. Did my father strike my gentleman for chiding of his fool?

  Osw. Ay, madam.

  Gon. By day and night, he wrongs me! Every hour

     He flashes into one gross crime or other

     That sets us all at odds. I'll not endure it.

     His knights grow riotous, and himself upbraids us

     On every trifle. When he returns from hunting,

     I will not speak with him. Say I am sick.

     If you come slack of former services,

     You shall do well; the fault of it I'll answer.

                                                 [Horns within.]

  Osw. He's coming, madam; I hear him.

  Gon. Put on what weary negligence you please,

     You and your fellows. I'd have it come to question.

     If he distaste it, let him to our sister,

     Whose mind and mine I know in that are one,

     Not to be overrul'd. Idle old man,

     That still would manage those authorities

     That he hath given away! Now, by my life,

     Old fools are babes again, and must be us'd

     With checks as flatteries, when they are seen abus'd.

     Remember what I have said.

  Osw. Very well, madam.

  Gon. And let his knights have colder looks among you.

     What grows of it, no matter. Advise your fellows so.

     I would breed from hence occasions, and I shall,

     That I may speak. I'll write straight to my sister

     To hold my very course. Prepare for dinner.