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Беспокойное бессмертие: 450 лет со дня рождения Уильяма Шекспира

Казавчинская Тамара Яковлевна

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Фантастика и фэнтези

Детективы и триллеры

Проза

Любовные романы

Приключения

Детские

Поэзия и драматургия

Старинная литература

Научно-образовательная

Компьютеры и интернет

Справочная литература

Документальная литература

Религия и духовность

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Автомобили и ПДД

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Военное дело

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оксана2018-11-27

Вообще, я больше люблю новинки литератур

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Professor2018-11-27

Очень понравилась книга. Рекомендую!

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Vera.Li2016-02-21

Миленько и простенько, без всяких интриг

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ст.ст.2018-05-15

И что это было?

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Наталья222018-11-27

Сюжет захватывающий. Все-таки читать кни

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Беспокойное бессмертие: 450 лет со дня рождения Уильяма Шекспира - Казавчинская Тамара Яковлевна - Страница 48

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Rivers

By heaven, my soul is purged from grudging hate,

And with my hand I seal my true heart’s love.

Hastings

So thrive I, as I truly swear the like.

King Edward

Take heed you dally not before your king,

Lest he that is the supreme King of kings

Confound your hidden falsehood and award

Either of you to be the other’s end.

Hastings

So prosper I, as I swear perfect love.

Rivers

And I, as I love Hastings with my heart.

King Edward

Madam, yourself are not exempt from this,

Nor you, son Dorset, Buckingham, nor you;

You have been factious one against the other,

Wife, love Lord Hastings, let him kiss your hand,

And what you do, do it unfeignedly.

Elizabeth

Here, Hastings, I will never more remember

Our former hatred, so thrive I and mine.

King Edward

Dorset, embrace him. Hastings, love lord marquess.

Dorset

This interchange of love, I here protest,

Upon my part shall be unviolable.

Hastings

And so swear I.

King Edward

Now, princely Buckingham, seal thou this league

With thy embracements to my wife’s allies,

And make me happy in your unity.

Buckingham

Whenever Buckingham doth turn his hate

Upon your grace, but with all duteous love

Doth cherish you and yours, God punish me

With hate in those where I expect most love.

When I have most need to employ a friend,

And most assurèd that he is a friend,

Deep, hollow, treacherous, and full of guile

Be he unto me. This do I beg of heaven,

When I am cold in love to you or yours.

Embrace.

King Edward

A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham,

Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart.

There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here

To make the blessèd period of this peace.

Buckingham

And, in good time,

Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliffe and the duke.

Enter Ratcliffe and Richard.

Richard

Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen;

And princely peers, a happy time of day.

King Edward

Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day.

Brother, we have done deeds of charity,

Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate,

Between these swelling wrong-incensèd peers.

Richard

A blessèd labour, my most sovereign lord.

Among this princely heap, if any here

By false intelligence or wrong surmise

Hold me a foe; if I unwittingly or in my rage

Have aught committed that is hardly borne

By any in this presence, I desire

To reconcile me to his friendly peace.

ʼTis death to me to be at enmity;

I hate it and desire all good men’s love.

First, madam, I entreat true peace of you,

Which I will purchase with my duteous service;

Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham,

If ever any grudge were lodged between us;

Of you and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset,

That all without desert have frowned on me;

Of you, Lord Woodville, and Lord Scales, of you;

Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen, indeed of all.

I do not know that Englishman alive

With whom my soul is any jot at odds

More than the infant that is born tonight

I thank my God for my humility.

Elizabeth

A holy day shall this be kept hereafter.

I would to God all strifes were well compounded.

My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness

To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

Richard

Why, madam, have I offered love for this,

To be so flouted in this royal presence?

Who knows not that the noble duke is dead?

They all start.

You do him injury to scorn his corpse.

King Edward

Who knows not he is dead?

Who knows he is?

Elizabeth

All-seeing heaven, what a world is this?

Buckingham

Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

Dorset

Ay, my good lord, and no one in the presence

But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

King Edward

Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed.

Richard

But he (poor man) by your first order died,

And that a wingèd Mercury did bear;

Some tardy cripple bore the countermand,

That came too lag to see him burièd.

God grant that some, less noble and less loyal,

Nearer in bloody thoughts and not in blood,

Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did,

And yet go current from suspicion.

Enter Stanley earl of Derby.

Stanley

A boon, my sovereign, for my service done.

King Edward

I prithee, peace, my soul is full of sorrow.