Читать книгу The Tempest - Уильям Шекспир, William Szekspir, the Simon Studio - Страница 2

  MASTER. Boatswain!

  BOATSWAIN. Here, master; what cheer?

  MASTER. Good! Speak to th' mariners; fall to't yarely, or

    we run ourselves aground; bestir, bestir. Exit

BOATSWAIN. Heigh, my hearts! cheerly, cheerly, my hearts! yare, yare! Take in the topsail. Tend to th' master's whistle. Blow till thou burst thy wind, if room enough.

  ALONSO. Good boatswain, have care. Where's the master?

    Play the men.

  BOATSWAIN. I pray now, keep below.

  ANTONIO. Where is the master, boson?

  BOATSWAIN. Do you not hear him? You mar our labour;

    keep your cabins; you do assist the storm.

  GONZALO. Nay, good, be patient.

  BOATSWAIN. When the sea is. Hence! What cares these

    roarers for the name of king? To cabin! silence! Trouble

    us not.

  GONZALO. Good, yet remember whom thou hast aboard.

  BOATSWAIN. None that I more love than myself. You are

    counsellor; if you can command these elements to

    silence, and work the peace of the present, we will not

    hand a rope more. Use your authority; if you cannot, give

    thanks you have liv'd so long, and make yourself ready

    in your cabin for the mischance of the hour, if it so

    hap. – Cheerly, good hearts! – Out of our way, I say.

 Exit

  GONZALO. I have great comfort from this fellow. Methinks

    he hath no drowning mark upon him; his complexion is

    perfect gallows. Stand fast, good Fate, to his hanging;

    make the rope of his destiny our cable, for our own doth

    little advantage. If he be not born to be hang'd, our

    case is miserable. Exeunt

BOATSWAIN. Down with the topmast. Yare, lower, lower! Bring her to try wi' th' maincourse. [A cry within] A plague upon this howling! They are louder than the weather or our office.

    Yet again! What do you here? Shall we give o'er, and

    drown? Have you a mind to sink?

  SEBASTIAN. A pox o' your throat, you bawling, blasphemous,

    incharitable dog!

  BOATSWAIN. Work you, then.

  ANTONIO. Hang, cur; hang, you whoreson, insolent noisemaker;

    we are less afraid to be drown'd than thou art.

  GONZALO. I'll warrant him for drowning, though the ship were

    no stronger than a nutshell, and as leaky as an unstanched

    wench.

  BOATSWAIN. Lay her a-hold, a-hold; set her two courses; off

    to sea again; lay her off.

  MARINERS. All lost! to prayers, to prayers! all lost!

                                                          Exeunt

  BOATSWAIN. What, must our mouths be cold?

  GONZALO. The King and Prince at prayers!

    Let's assist them,

    For our case is as theirs.

  SEBASTIAN. I am out of patience.

  ANTONIO. We are merely cheated of our lives by drunkards.

    This wide-chopp'd rascal-would thou mightst lie drowning

    The washing of ten tides!

  GONZALO. He'll be hang'd yet,

    Though every drop of water swear against it,

    And gape at wid'st to glut him.

    [A confused noise within: Mercy on us!

    We split, we split! Farewell, my wife and children!

    Farewell, brother! We split, we split, we split!]

  ANTONIO. Let's all sink wi' th' King.

  SEBASTIAN. Let's take leave of him.

                                    Exeunt ANTONIO and SEBASTIAN

  GONZALO. Now would I give a thousand furlongs of sea for

    an acre of barren ground-long heath, brown furze, any

    thing. The wills above be done, but I would fain die

    dry death. Exeunt