Sämtliche Werke von Shakespeare in einem Band: Zweisprachige Ausgabe (Deutsch-Englisch). William Shakespeare. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: William Shakespeare
Издательство: Bookwire
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isbn: 9788075833631
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are ready to decline.

       There is a tide in the affairs of men

       Which, taken at the flood, leads on to fortune;

       Omitted, all the voyage of their life

       Is bound in shallows and in miseries.

       On such a full sea are we now afloat;

       And we must take the current when it serves,

       Or lose our ventures.

      CASSIUS.

       Then, with your will, go on:

       We’ll along ourselves, and meet them at Philippi.

      BRUTUS.

       The deep of night is crept upon our talk,

       And nature must obey necessity;

       Which we will niggard with a little rest.

       There is no more to say?

      CASSIUS.

       No more. Good night:

       Early tomorrow will we rise, and hence.

      BRUTUS.

       Lucius!—My gown.—Farewell now, good Messala:—

       Good night, Titinius:—noble, noble Cassius,

       Good night, and good repose.

      CASSIUS.

       O my dear brother!

       This was an ill beginning of the night.

       Never come such division ‘tween our souls!

       Let it not, Brutus.

      BRUTUS.

       Every thing is well.

      CASSIUS.

       Good night, my lord.

      BRUTUS.

       Good night, good brother.

      TITINIUS. MESSALA.

       Good night, Lord Brutus.

      BRUTUS.

       Farewell, everyone.—

       [Exeunt Cassius, Titinius, and Messala.]

      [Re-enter Lucius, with the gown.]

      Give me the gown. Where is thy instrument?

      LUCIUS.

       Here in the tent.

      BRUTUS.

       What, thou speak’st drowsily:

       Poor knave, I blame thee not, thou art o’erwatch’d.

       Call Claudius and some other of my men;

       I’ll have them sleep on cushions in my tent.

      LUCIUS.

       Varro and Claudius!

       [Enter Varro and Claudius.]

      VARRO.

       Calls my lord?

      BRUTUS.

       I pray you, sirs, lie in my tent and sleep;

       It may be I shall raise you by-and-by

       On business to my brother Cassius.

      VARRO.

       So please you, we will stand and watch your pleasure.

      BRUTUS.

      I would not have it so; lie down, good sirs:

      It may be I shall otherwise bethink me.—

      Look, Lucius, here’s the book I sought for so;

      I put it in the pocket of my gown.

      [Servants lie down.]

      LUCIUS.

       I was sure your lordship did not give it me.

      BRUTUS.

       Bear with me, good boy, I am much forgetful.

       Canst thou hold up thy heavy eyes awhile,

       And touch thy instrument a strain or two?

      LUCIUS.

       Ay, my lord, an’t please you.

      BRUTUS.

       It does, my boy:

       I trouble thee too much, but thou art willing.

      LUCIUS.

       It is my duty, sir.

      BRUTUS.

       I should not urge thy duty past thy might;

       I know young bloods look for a time of rest.

      LUCIUS.

       I have slept, my lord, already.

      BRUTUS.

       It was well done; and thou shalt sleep again;

       I will not hold thee long: if I do live,

       I will be good to thee.—

       [Lucius plays and sings till he falls asleep.]

      This is a sleepy tune.—O murderous Slumber,

       Lay’st thou thy leaden mace upon my boy,

       That plays thee music?—Gentle knave, good night;

       I will not do thee so much wrong to wake thee:

       If thou dost nod, thou breakst thy instrument;

       I’ll take it from thee; and, good boy, good night.—

       Let me see, let me see; is not the leaf turn’d down

       Where I left reading? Here it is, I think.

       [Enter the Ghost of Caesar.]

      How ill this taper burns! Ha! who comes here?

       I think it is the weakness of mine eyes

       That shapes this monstrous apparition.

       It comes upon me.—Art thou any thing?

       Art thou some god, some angel, or some devil,

       That makest my blood cold and my hair to stare?

       Speak to me what thou art.

      GHOST.

       Thy evil spirit, Brutus.

      BRUTUS.

       Why comest thou?

      GHOST.

       To tell thee thou shalt see me at Philippi.

      BRUTUS.

       Well; then I shall see thee again?

      GHOST.

       Ay, at Philippi.

      BRUTUS.

       Why, I will see thee at Philippi, then.

       [Ghost vanishes.]

       Now I have taken heart, thou vanishest:

       Ill spirit, I would hold more talk with thee.—

       Boy! Lucius!—Varro! Claudius! Sirs, awake!—Claudius!

      LUCIUS.

       The strings, my lord, are false.

      BRUTUS.

       He thinks he still is at his instrument.—

       Lucius, awake!

      LUCIUS.

       My lord?

      BRUTUS.

       Didst thou dream, Lucius, that thou so criedst out?

      LUCIUS.

       My lord, I do not know that I did cry.

      BRUTUS.

       Yes, that thou didst: didst thou see any thing?

      LUCIUS.

       Nothing, my lord.

      BRUTUS.