The Winter’s Tale. Уильям Шекспир. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: Уильям Шекспир
Издательство: HarperCollins
Серия:
Жанр произведения: Классическая проза
Год издания: 0
isbn: 9780007535231
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Twenty-three years; and saw myself unbreech’d, 155

      In my green velvet coat; my dagger muzzl’d,

      Lest it should bite its master and so prove,

      As ornaments oft do, too dangerous.

      How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,

This squash, this gentleman. Mine honest friend, 160

      Will you take eggs for money?

       Mamillius

      No, my lord, I’ll fight.

       Leontes

      You will? Why, happy man be’s dole! My brother,

      Are you so fond of your young prince as we

      Do seem to be of ours?

       Polixenes

If at home, sir, 165

      He’s all my exercise, my mirth, my matter;

      Now my sworn friend, and then mine enemy;

      My parasite, my soldier, statesman, all.

      He makes a July’s day short as December,

And with his varying childness cures in me 170

      Thoughts that would thick my blood.

       Leontes

      So stands this squire

      Offic’d with me. We two will walk, my lord,

      And leave you to your graver steps. Hermione,

      How thou lov’st us show in our brother’s welcome;

Let what is dear in Sicily be cheap; 175

      Next to thyself and my young rover, he’s

      Apparent to my heart.

       Hermione

      If you would seek us,

      We are yours i’ th’ garden. Shall’s attend you there?

       Leontes

      To your own bents dispose you; you’ll be found,

Be you beneath the sky. [Aside] I am angling now, 180

      Though you perceive me not how I give line.

      Go to, go to!

      How she holds up the neb, the bill to him!

      And arms her with the boldness of a wife

      To her allowing husband!

      [Exeunt POLIXENES, HERMIONE, and Attendants.]

Gone already! 185

      Inch-thick, knee-deep, o’er head and ears a fork’d one!

      Go, play, boy, play; thy mother plays, and I

      Play too; but so disgrac’d a part, whose issue

      Will hiss me to my grave. Contempt and clamour

Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play. There have been, 190

      Or I am much deceiv’d, cuckolds ere now;

      And many a man there is, even at this present,

      Now while I speak this, holds his wife by th’ arm

      That little thinks she has been sluic’d in’s absence,

And his pond fish’d by his next neighbour, by 195

      Sir Smile, his neighbour. Nay, there’s comfort in’t,

      Whiles other men have gates and those gates open’d,

      As mine, against their will. Should all despair

      That have revolted wives, the tenth of mankind

Would hang themselves. Physic for’t there’s none; 200

      It is a bawdy planet, that will strike

      Where ’tis predominant; and ’tis pow’rful, think it,

      From east, west, north, and south. Be it concluded,

      No barricado for a belly. Know’t,

It will let in and out the enemy 205

      With bag and baggage. Many thousand on’s

      Have the disease, and feel’t not. How now, boy!

       Mamillius

      I am like you, they say.

       Leontes

      Why, that’s some comfort.

      What! Camillo there?

       Camillo

Ay, my good lord. 210

       Leontes

      Go play, Mamillius; thou’rt an honest man.

      [Exit MAMILLIUS.]

      Camillo, this great sir will yet stay longer.

       Camillo

      You had much ado to make his anchor hold;

      When you cast out, it still came home.

       Leontes

      Didst note it?

       Camillo

He would not stay at your petitions; made 215

      His business more material.

       Leontes

      Didst perceive it?

      [Aside] They’re here with me already; whisp’ring, rounding,

      ‘Sicilia is a so-forth’. ’Tis far gone

      When I shall gust it last. – How came’t, Camillo,

      That he did stay?

       Camillo

At the good Queen’s entreaty. 220

       Leontes

      ‘At the Queen’s’ be’t. ‘Good’ should be pertinent;

      But so it is, it is not. Was this taken

      By any understanding pate but thine?

      For thy conceit is soaking, will draw in

More than the common blocks. Not noted, is’t, 225

      But of the finer natures, by some severals

      Of head-piece extraordinary? Lower messes

      Perchance are to this business purblind? Say.

       Camillo

      Business,