The Complete Works of John Keats: Poems, Plays & Personal Letters. John Keats. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: John Keats
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poisons of a fen,

       Which he who breathes feels warning of his death,

       Could taste so nauseous to the bodily sense,

       As these prodigious sycophants disgust

       The soul’s fine palate.

      Conrad.

       Princely Ludolph, hail!

       Welcome, thou younger sceptre to the realm!

       Strength to thy virgin crownet’s golden buds,

       That they, against the winter of thy sire,

       May burst, and swell, and flourish round thy brows,

       Maturing to a weighty diadem!

       Yet be that hour far off; and may he live,

       Who waits for thee, as the chapp’d earth for rain.

       Set my life’s star! I have lived long enough,

       Since under my glad roof, propitiously,

       Father and son each other repossess.

      Ludolph.

       Fine wording, Duke! but words could never yet

       Forestall the fates; have you not learnt that yet?

       Let me look well: your features are the same;

       Your gait the same; your hair of the same shade;

       As one I knew some passed weeks ago,

       Who sung far different notes into mine ears.

       I have mine own particular comments on ‘t;

       You have your own, perhaps.

      Conrad.

       My gracious Prince,

       All men may err. In truth I was deceived

       In your great father’s nature, as you were.

       Had I known that of him I have since known,

       And what you soon will learn, I would have turned

       My sword to my own throat, rather than held

       Its threatening edge against a good King’s quiet:

       Or with one word fever’d you, gentle Prince,

       Who seem’d to me, as rugged times then went,

       Indeed too much oppress’d. May I be bold

       To tell the Emperor you will haste to him?

      Ludolph.

       Your Dukedom’s privilege will grant so much.

      [Exit CONRAD

       He’s very close to Otho, a tight leech!

       Your hand I go. Ha! here the thunder comes

       Sullen against the wind! If in two angry brows

       My safety lies, then Sigifred, I’m safe.

      Enter OTHO and CONRAD.

      Otho.

       Will you make Titan play the lackey-page &

       To chattering pigmies? I would have you know

       That such neglect of our high Majesty

       Annuls all feel of kindred. What is son,

       Or friend, or brother, or all ties of blood,

       When the whole kingdom, centred in ourself,

       Is rudely slighted ? Who am I to wait ?

       By Peter’s chair! I have upon my tongue

       A word to fright the proudest spirit here!

       Death! and slow tortures to the hardy fool,

       Who dares take such large charter from our smiles!

       Conrad, we would be private. Sigifred!

       Off! And none pass this way on pain of death!

       [Exeunt CONRAD and SIGIFRED,

       Ludolph. This was but half expected, my good sire,

       Yet I am griev’d at it, to the full height,

       As though my hopes of favour had been whole.

      Otho.

       How you indulge yourself! What can you hope for?

      Ludolph.

       Nothing, my liege ; I have to hope for nothing.

       I come to greet you as a loving son,

       And then depart, if I may be so free,

       Seeing that blood of yours in my warm veins

       Has not yet mitigated into milk.

      Otho.

       What would you, sir?

      Ludolph.

       A lenient banishment;

       So please you let me unmolested pass

       This Conrad’s gates, to the wide air again.

       I want no more. A rebel wants no more.

       Otho. And shall I let a rebel loose again

       To muster kites and eagles ‘gainst my head?

       No, obstinate boy, you shall be kept cag’d up,

       Serv’d with harsh food, with scum for Sunday-drink.

      Ludolph.

       Indeed!

      Otho.

       And chains too heavy for your life:

       I’ll choose a gaoler, whose swart monstrous face

       Shall be a hell to look upon, and she

       Ludolph. Ha!

      Otho.

       Shall be your fair Auranthe.

      Ludolph.

       Amaze! Amaze!

      Otho.

       To-day you marry her.

      Ludolph.

       This is a sharp jest!

      Otho.

       No. None at all. When have I said a lie?

      Ludolph.

       If I sleep not, I am a waking wretch.

      Otho.

       Not a word more. Let me embrace my child.

      Ludolph.

       I dare not. ’Twould pollute so good a father!

       heavy crime! that your son’s blinded eyes

       Could not see all his parent’s love aright,

       As now I see it. Be not kind to me

       Punish me not with favour.

      Otho.

       Are you sure,

       Ludolph, you have no saving plea in store?

      Ludolph.

       My father, none!

      Otho.

       Then you astonish me.

      Ludolph.

       No, I have no plea. Disobedience,

       Rebellion, obstinacy, blasphemy,

       Are all my counsellors. If they can make

       My crooked deeds show good and plausible,

       Then grant me loving pardon, but not else,

       Good Gods! not else, in any way, my liege!

       Otho. You are a most perplexing, noble boy.

      Ludolph.

       You not less a perplexing noble father.

      Otho.

       Well, you shall have free passport through the gates.