The Complete Plays of Oscar Wilde. Оскар Уайльд. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Оскар Уайльд
Издательство: Bookwire
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Жанр произведения: Языкознание
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isbn: 9788027231447
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To rear you worthy of him; so I have reared you

       To revenge his death upon the friend who sold him.

      GUIDO

      Thou hast done well; I for my father thank thee.

       And now his name?

      MORANZONE

      How you remind me of him,

       You have each gesture that your father had.

      GUIDO

      The traitor’s name?

      MORANZONE

      Thou wilt hear that anon;

       The Duke and other nobles at the Court

       Are coming hither.

      GUIDO

      What of that? his name?

      MORANZONE

      Do they not seem a valiant company

       Of honourable, honest gentlemen?

      GUIDO

      His name, milord?

      [Enter the DUKE OF PADUA with COUNT BARDI, MAFFIO, PETRUCCI, and other gentlemen of his Court.]

      MORANZONE

      [quickly]

       The man to whom I kneel

       Is he who sold your father! mark me well.

      GUIDO

      [clutches hit dagger]

       The Duke!

      MORANZONE

      Leave off that fingering of thy knife.

       Hast thou so soon forgotten?

       [Kneels to the DUKE.]

       My noble Lord.

      DUKE

      Welcome, Count Moranzone; ‘tis some time

       Since we have seen you here in Padua.

       We hunted near your castle yesterday -

       Call you it castle? that bleak house of yours

       Wherein you sit a-mumbling o’er your beads,

       Telling your vices like a good old man.

       [Catches sight of GUIDO and starts back.]

       Who is that?

      MORANZONE

      My sister’s son, your Grace,

       Who being now of age to carry arms,

       Would for a season tarry at your Court

      DUKE

      [still looking at GUIDO]

       What is his name?

      MORANZONE

      Guido Ferranti, sir.

      DUKE

      His city?

      MORANZONE

      He is Mantuan by birth.

      DUKE

      [advancing towards GUIDO]

       You have the eyes of one I used to know,

       But he died childless. Are you honest, boy?

       Then be not spendthrift of your honesty,

       But keep it to yourself; in Padua

       Men think that honesty is ostentatious, so

       It is not of the fashion. Look at these lords.

      COUNT BARDI

      [aside]

       Here is some bitter arrow for us, sure.

      DUKE

      Why, every man among them has his price,

       Although, to do them justice, some of them

       Are quite expensive.

      COUNT BARDI

      [aside]

       There it comes indeed.

      DUKE

      So be not honest; eccentricity

       Is not a thing should ever be encouraged,

       Although, in this dull stupid age of ours,

       The most eccentric thing a man can do

       Is to have brains, then the mob mocks at him;

       And for the mob, despise it as I do,

       I hold its bubble praise and windy favours

       In such account, that popularity

       Is the one insult I have never suffered.

      MAFFIO

      [aside]

      He has enough of hate, if he needs that.

      DUKE

      Have prudence; in your dealings with the world

       Be not too hasty; act on the second thought,

       First impulses are generally good.

      GUIDO

      [aside]

       Surely a toad sits on his lips, and spills its venom there.

      DUKE

      See thou hast enemies,

       Else will the world think very little of thee;

       It is its test of power; yet see thou show’st

       A smiling mask of friendship to all men,

       Until thou hast them safely in thy grip,

       Then thou canst crush them.

      GUIDO

      [aside]

       O wise philosopher!

       That for thyself dost dig so deep a grave.

      MORANZONE

      [to him]

       Dost thou mark his words?

      GUIDO

      Oh, be thou sure I do.

      DUKE

      And be not over-scrupulous; clean hands

       With nothing in them make a sorry show.

       If you would have the lion’s share of life

       You must wear the fox’s skin. Oh, it will fit you;

       It is a coat which fitteth every man.

      GUIDO

      Your Grace, I shall remember.

      DUKE

      That is well, boy, well.

       I would not have about me shallow fools,

       Who with mean scruples weigh the gold of life,

       And faltering, paltering, end by failure; failure,

       The only crime which I have not committed:

       I would have men about me. As for conscience,

       Conscience is but the name which cowardice

       Fleeing from battle scrawls upon its shield.

       You understand me, boy?

      GUIDO

      I do, your