Читать книгу The Winter's Tale - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 4

  HERMIONE. Take the boy to you; he so troubles me,

    'Tis past enduring.

  FIRST LADY. Come, my gracious lord,

    Shall I be your playfellow?

  MAMILLIUS. No, I'll none of you.

  FIRST LADY. Why, my sweet lord?

  MAMILLIUS. You'll kiss me hard, and speak to me as if

    I were a baby still. I love you better.

  SECOND LADY. And why so, my lord?

  MAMILLIUS. Not for because

    Your brows are blacker; yet black brows, they say,

    Become some women best; so that there be not

    Too much hair there, but in a semicircle

    Or a half-moon made with a pen.

  SECOND LADY. Who taught't this?

  MAMILLIUS. I learn'd it out of women's faces. Pray now,

    What colour are your eyebrows?

  FIRST LADY. Blue, my lord.

  MAMILLIUS. Nay, that's a mock. I have seen a lady's nose

    That has been blue, but not her eyebrows.

  FIRST LADY. Hark ye:

    The Queen your mother rounds apace. We shall

    Present our services to a fine new prince

    One of these days; and then you'd wanton with us,

    If we would have you.

  SECOND LADY. She is spread of late

    Into a goodly bulk. Good time encounter her!

  HERMIONE. What wisdom stirs amongst you? Come, sir, now

    I am for you again. Pray you sit by us,

    And tell's a tale.

  MAMILLIUS. Merry or sad shall't be?

  HERMIONE. As merry as you will.

  MAMILLIUS. A sad tale's best for winter. I have one

    Of sprites and goblins.

  HERMIONE. Let's have that, good sir.

    Come on, sit down; come on, and do your best

    To fright me with your sprites; you're pow'rfull at it.

  MAMILLIUS. There was a man-

  HERMIONE. Nay, come, sit down; then on.

  MAMILLIUS. Dwelt by a churchyard- I will tell it softly;

    Yond crickets shall not hear it.

  HERMIONE. Come on then,

    And give't me in mine ear.

  LEONTES. he met there? his train? Camillo with him?

  FIRST LORD. Behind the tuft of pines I met them; never

    Saw I men scour so on their way. I ey'd them

    Even to their ships.

  LEONTES. How blest am I

    In my just censure, in my true opinion!

    Alack, for lesser knowledge! How accurs'd

    In being so blest! There may be in the cup

    A spider steep'd, and one may drink, depart,

    And yet partake no venom, for his knowledge

    Is not infected; but if one present

    Th' abhorr'd ingredient to his eye, make known

    How he hath drunk, he cracks his gorge, his sides,

    With violent hefts. I have drunk, and seen the spider.

    Camillo was his help in this, his pander.

    There is a plot against my life, my crown;

    All's true that is mistrusted. That false villain

    Whom I employ'd was pre-employ'd by him;

    He has discover'd my design, and I

    Remain a pinch'd thing; yea, a very trick

    For them to play at will. How came the posterns

    So easily open?

  FIRST LORD. By his great authority;

    Which often hath no less prevail'd than so

    On your command.

  LEONTES. I know't too well.

    Give me the boy. I am glad you did not nurse him;

    Though he does bear some signs of me, yet you

    Have too much blood in him.

  HERMIONE. What is this? Sport?

  LEONTES. Bear the boy hence; he shall not come about her;

    Away with him; and let her sport herself

                                          [MAMILLIUS is led out]

    With that she's big with- for 'tis Polixenes

    Has made thee swell thus.

  HERMIONE. But I'd say he had not,

    And I'll be sworn you would believe my saying,

    Howe'er you lean to th' nayward.

  LEONTES. You, my lords,

    Look on her, mark her well; be but about

    To say 'She is a goodly lady' and

    The justice of your hearts will thereto ad

    'Tis pity she's not honest- honourable.'

    Praise her but for this her without-door form,

    Which on my faith deserves high speech, and straight

    The shrug, the hum or ha, these petty brands

    That calumny doth use- O, I am out! -

    That mercy does, for calumny will sear

    Virtue itself- these shrugs, these hum's and ha's,

    When you have said she's goodly, come between,

    Ere you can say she's honest. But be't known,

    From him that has most cause to grieve it should be,

    She's an adultress.

  HERMIONE. Should a villain say so,

    The most replenish'd villain in the world,

    He were as much more villain: you, my lord,

    Do but mistake.

  LEONTES. You have mistook, my lady,

    Polixenes for Leontes. O thou thing!

    Which I'll not call a creature of thy place,

    Lest barbarism, making me the precedent,

    Should a like language use to all degrees

    And mannerly distinguishment leave out

    Betwixt the prince and beggar. I have said

    She's an adultress; I have said with whom.

    More, she's a traitor; and Camillo is

    A federary with her, and one that knows

    What she should shame to know herself

    But with her most vile principal- that she's

    A bed-swerver, even as bad as those

    That vulgars give bold'st titles; ay, and privy

    To this their late escape.

  HERMIONE. No, by my life,

    Privy to none of this. How will this grieve you,

    When you shall come to clearer knowledge, that

    You thus have publish'd me! Gentle my lord,

    You scarce can right me throughly then to say

    You did mistake.

  LEONTES. No; if I mistake

    In those foundations which I build upon,

    The centre is not big enough to bear

    A school-boy's top. Away with her to prison.

    He who shall speak for her is afar off guilty

    But that he speaks.

  HERMIONE. There's some ill planet reigns.

    I must be patient till the heavens look

    With an aspect more favourable. Good my lords,

    I am not prone to weeping, as our sex

    Commonly are- the want of which vain dew

    Perchance shall dry your pities- but I have

    That honourable grief lodg'd here which burns

    Worse than tears drown. Beseech you all, my lords,

    With thoughts so qualified as your charities

    Shall best instruct you, measure me; and so

    The King's will be perform'd!

  LEONTES. [To the GUARD] Shall I be heard?

  HERMIONE. Who is't that goes with me? Beseech your highness

    My women may be with me, for you see

    My plight requires it. Do not weep, good fools;

    There is no cause; when you shall know your mistress

    Has deserv'd prison, then abound in tears

    As I come out: this action I now go on

    Is for my better grace. Adieu, my lord.

    I never wish'd to see you sorry; now

    I trust I shall. My women, come; you have leave.

  LEONTES. Go, do our bidding; hence!

                            Exeunt HERMIONE, guarded, and LADIES

  FIRST LORD. Beseech your Highness, call the Queen again.

  ANTIGONUS. Be certain what you do, sir, lest your justice

    Prove violence, in the which three great ones suffer,

    Yourself, your queen, your son.

  FIRST LORD. For her, my lord,

    I dare my life lay down- and will do't, sir,

    Please you t' accept it- that the Queen is spotless

    I' th' eyes of heaven and to you- I mean

    In this which you accuse her.

  ANTIGONUS. If it prove

    She's otherwise, I'll keep my stables where

    I lodge my wife; I'll go in couples with her;

    Than when I feel and see her no farther trust her;

    For every inch of woman in the world,

    Ay, every dram of woman's flesh is false,

    If she be.

  LEONTES. Hold your peaces.

  FIRST LORD. Good my lord-

  ANTIGONUS. It is for you we speak, not for ourselves.

    You are abus'd, and by some putter-on

    That will be damn'd for't. Would I knew the villain!

    I would land-damn him. Be she honour-flaw'd-

    I have three daughters: the eldest is eleven;

    The second and the third, nine and some five;

    If this prove true, they'll pay for 't. By mine honour,

    I'll geld 'em all; fourteen they shall not see

    To bring false generations. They are co-heirs;

    And I had rather glib myself than they

    Should not produce fair issue.

  LEONTES. Cease; no more.

    You smell this business with a sense as cold

    As is a dead man's nose; but I do see't and feel't

    As you feel doing thus; and see withal

    The instruments that feel.

  ANTIGONUS. If it be so,

    We need no grave to bury honesty;

    There's not a grain of it the face to sweeten

    Of the whole dungy earth.

  LEONTES. What! Lack I credit?

  FIRST LORD. I had rather you did lack than I, my lord,

    Upon this ground; and more it would content me

    To have her honour true than your suspicion,

    Be blam'd for't how you might.

  LEONTES. Why, what need we

    Commune with you of this, but rather follow

    Our forceful instigation? Our prerogative

    Calls not your counsels; but our natural goodness

    Imparts this; which, if you- or stupified

    Or seeming so in skill- cannot or will not

    Relish a truth like us, inform yourselves

    We need no more of your advice. The matter,

    The loss, the gain, the ord'ring on't, is all

    Properly ours.

  ANTIGONUS. And I wish, my liege,

    You had only in your silent judgment tried it,

    Without more overture.

  LEONTES. How could that be?

    Either thou art most ignorant by age,

    Or thou wert born a fool. Camillo's flight,

    Added to their familiarity-

    Which was as gross as ever touch'd conjecture,

    That lack'd sight only, nought for approbation

    But only seeing, all other circumstances

    Made up to th' deed- doth push on this proceeding.

    Yet, for a greater confirmation-

    For, in an act of this importance, 'twere

    Most piteous to be wild- I have dispatch'd in post

    To sacred Delphos, to Apollo's temple,

    Cleomenes and Dion, whom you know

    Of stuff'd sufficiency. Now, from the oracle

    They will bring all, whose spiritual counsel had,

    Shall stop or spur me. Have I done well?

  FIRST LORD. Well done, my lord.

  LEONTES. Though I am satisfied, and need no more

    Than what I know, yet shall the oracle

    Give rest to th' minds of others such as he

    Whose ignorant credulity will not

    Come up to th' truth. So have we thought it good

    From our free person she should be confin'd,

    Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence

    Be left her to perform. Come, follow us;

    We are to speak in public; for this business

    Will raise us all.

  ANTIGONUS. [Aside] To laughter, as I take it,

    If the good truth were known.

  PAULINA. The keeper of the prison- call to him;

    Let him have knowledge who I am. Exit GENTLEMAN

    Good lady!

    No court in Europe is too good for thee;

    What dost thou then in prison?

    Now, good sir,

    You know me, do you not?

  GAOLER. For a worthy lady,

    And one who much I honour.

  PAULINA. Pray you, then,

    Conduct me to the Queen.

  GAOLER. I may not, madam;

    To the contrary I have express commandment.

  PAULINA. Here's ado, to lock up honesty and honour from

    Th' access of gentle visitors! Is't lawful, pray you,

    To see her women- any of them? Emilia?

  GAOLER. So please you, madam,

    To put apart these your attendants,

    Shall bring Emilia forth.

  PAULINA. I pray now, call her.

    Withdraw yourselves. Exeunt ATTENDANTS

  GAOLER. And, madam,

    I must be present at your conference.

  PAULINA. Well, be't so, prithee. Exit GAOLER

    Here's such ado to make no stain a stain

    As passes colouring.

    Dear gentlewoman,

    How fares our gracious lady?

  EMILIA. As well as one so great and so forlorn

    May hold together. On her frights and griefs,

    Which never tender lady hath borne greater,

    She is, something before her time, deliver'd.

  PAULINA. A boy?

  EMILIA. A daughter, and a goodly babe,