Oscar Wilde: The Complete Works. Knowledge house. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Knowledge house
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9782380372373
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through the marshes or by rivers grow,

      And have no music in them.

      duchess

      Yet out of these

      The singer, who is Love, will make a pipe

      And from them he draws music; so I think

      Love will bring music out of any life.

      Is that not true?

      guido

      Sweet, women make it true.

      There are men who paint pictures, and carve statues,

      Paul of Verona and the dyer’s son,

      Or their great rival, who, by the sea at Venice,

      Has set God’s little maid upon the stair,

      ·61· White as her own white lily, and as tall,

      Or Raphael, whose Madonnas are divine

      Because they are mothers merely; yet I think

      Women are the best artists of the world,

      For they can take the common lives of men

      Soiled with the money-getting of our age,

      And with love make them beautiful.

      duchess

      Ah, dear,

      I wish that you and I were very poor;

      The poor, who love each other, are so rich.

      guido

      Tell me again you love me, Beatrice.

      duchess [fingering his collar]

      How well this collar lies about your throat.

      [Lord Moranzone looks through the door from the corridor outside.]

      guido

      Nay, tell me that you love me.

      duchess

      I remember,

      That when I was a child in my dear France,

      Being at Court at Fontainebleau, the King

      Wore such a collar.

      ·62· guido

      Will you not say you love me?

      duchess [smiling]

      He was a very royal man, King Francis,

      Yet he was not royal as you are.

      Why need I tell you, Guido, that I love you?

      [Takes his head in her hands and turns his face up to her.]

      Do you not know that I am yours for ever,

      Body and soul?

      [Kisses him, and then suddenly catches sight of Moranzone and leaps up.]

      Oh, what is that? [Moranzone disappears.]

      guido

      What, love?

      duchess

      Methought I saw a face with eyes of flame

      Look at us through the doorway.

      guido

      Nay, ’twas nothing:

      The passing shadow of the man on guard.

      [The Duchess still stands looking at the window.]

      ’Twas nothing, sweet.

      ·63· duchess

      Ay! what can harm us now,

      Who are in Love’s hand? I do not think I’d care

      Though the vile world should with its lackey Slander

      Trample and tread upon my life; why should I?

      They say the common field-flowers of the field

      Have sweeter scent when they are trodden on

      Than when they bloom alone, and that some herbs

      Which have no perfume, on being bruiséd die

      With all Arabia round them; so it is

      With the young lives this dull world seeks to crush,

      It does but bring the sweetness out of them,

      And makes them lovelier often. And besides,

      While we have love we have the best of life:

      Is it not so?

      guido

      Dear, shall we play or sing?

      I think that I could sing now.

      ·64· duchess

      Do not speak,

      For there are times when all existences

      Seem narrowed to one single ecstasy,

      And Passion sets a seal upon the lips.

      guido

      Oh, with mine own lips let me break that seal!

      You love me, Beatrice?

      duchess

      Ay! is it not strange

      I should so love mine enemy?

      guido

      Who is he?

      duchess

      Why, you: that with your shaft did pierce my heart!

      Poor heart, that lived its little lonely life

      Until it met your arrow.

      guido

      Ah, dear love,

      I am so wounded by that bolt myself

      That with untended wounds I lie a-dying,

      Unless you cure me, dear Physician.

      ·65· duchess

      I would not have you cured; for I am sick

      With the same malady.

      guido

      Oh, how I love you!

      See, I must steal the cuckoo’s voice, and tell

      The one tale over.

      duchess

      Tell no other tale!

      For, if that is the little cuckoo’s song,

      The nightingale is hoarse, and the loud lark

      Has lost its music.

      guido

      Kiss me, Beatrice!

      [She takes his face in her hands and bends down and kisses him; a loud knocking then comes at the door, and Guido leaps up; enter a Servant.]

      servant

      A package for you, sir.

      ·66· guido [carelessly]

      Ah! give it to me.

      [Servant hands package wrapped in vermilion silk, and exit; as Guido is about to open it the Duchess comes up behind, and in sport takes it from him.]

      duchess [laughing]

      Now I will wager it is from some girl

      Who would have you wear her favour; I am so jealous

      I will not give up the least part in you,

      But