Читать книгу The Tragedy of Macbeth - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 7

  DUNCAN. This castle hath a pleasant seat; the air

    Nimbly and sweetly recommends itself

    Unto our gentle senses.

  BANQUO. This guest of summer,

    The temple-haunting martlet, does approve

    By his loved mansionry that the heaven's breath

    Smells wooingly here. No jutty, frieze,

    Buttress, nor coign of vantage, but this bird

    Hath made his pendant bed and procreant cradle;

    Where they most breed and haunt, I have observed

    The air is delicate.

  DUNCAN. See, see, our honor'd hostess!

    The love that follows us sometime is our trouble,

    Which still we thank as love. Herein I teach you

    How you shall bid God 'ield us for your pains,

    And thank us for your trouble.

  LADY MACBETH. All our service

    In every point twice done, and then done double,

    Were poor and single business to contend

    Against those honors deep and broad wherewith

    Your Majesty loads our house. For those of old,

    And the late dignities heap'd up to them,

    We rest your hermits.

  DUNCAN. Where's the Thane of Cawdor?

    We coursed him at the heels and had a purpose

    To be his purveyor; but he rides well,

    And his great love, sharp as his spur, hath holp him

    To his home before us. Fair and noble hostess,

    We are your guest tonight.

  LADY MACBETH. Your servants ever

    Have theirs, themselves, and what is theirs, in compt,

    To make their audit at your Highness' pleasure,

    Still to return your own.

  DUNCAN. Give me your hand;

    Conduct me to mine host. We love him highly,

    And shall continue our graces towards him.

    By your leave, hostess. Exeunt.