The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. William Shakespeare. Читать онлайн. Newlib. NEWLIB.NET

Автор: William Shakespeare
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And pardon’d the deceiver, dwell

       In this bare island by your spell:

       But release me from my bands

       With the help of your good hands.

       Gentle breath of yours my sails

       Must fill, or else my project fails,

       Which was to please. Now I want

       Spirits to enforce, art to enchant;

       And my ending is despair,

       Unless I be reliev’d by prayer,

       Which pierces so that it assaults

       Mercy itself, and frees all faults.

       As you from crimes would pardon’d be,

       Let your indulgence set me free.

       THE END

      TWELFTH NIGHT OR, WHAT YOU WILL

       Table of Contents

      By William Shakespeare

      DRAMATIS PERSONAE

       ORSINO, Duke of Illyria

       SEBASTIAN, brother to Viola

       ANTONIO, a sea captain, friend to Sebastian

       A SEA CAPTAIN, friend to Viola

       VALENTINE, gentleman attending on the Duke

       CURIO, gentleman attending on the Duke

       SIR TOBY BELCH, uncle to Olivia

       SIR ANDREW AGUECHEEK

       MALVOLIO, steward to Olivia

       FABIAN, servant to Olivia

       FESTE, a clown, servant to Olivia

       OLIVIA, a rich countess

       VIOLA

       MARIA, Olivia’s waiting woman

       Lords, Priests, Sailors, Officers, Musicians, and other

       Attendants

       SCENE: A city in Illyria, and the seacoast near it

       ACT I.

       SCENE I. An apartment in the DUKE’S palace.

       [Enter DUKE, CURIO, and other LORDS; MUSICIANS attending.]

       DUKE.

       If music be the food of love, play on;

       Give me excess of it, that, surfeiting,

       The appetite may sicken and so die.

       That strain again! It had a dying fall;

       O, it came o’er my ear like the sweet sound

       That breathes upon a bank of violets,

       Stealing and giving odour! Enough; no more;

       ‘T is not so sweet now as it was before.

       O spirit of love, how quick and fresh art thou!

       That, notwithstanding thy capacity

       Receiveth as the sea, nought enters there,

       Of what validity and pitch soe’er,

       But falls into abatement and low price,

       Even in a minute! so full of shapes is fancy

       That it alone is high fantastical.

       CURIO.

       Will you go hunt, my lord?

       DUKE.

       What, Curio?

       CURIO.

       The hart.

       DUKE.

       Why, so I do, the noblest that I have.

       O, when mine eyes did see Olivia first,

       Methought she purg’d the air of pestilence!

       That instant was I turn’d into a hart;

       And my desires, like fell and cruel hounds,

       E’er since pursue me.

       [Enter VALENTINE.]

       How now! what news from her?

       VALENTINE.

       So please my lord, I might not be admitted,

       But from her handmaid do return this answer:

       The element itself, till seven years’ heat,

       Shall not behold her face at ample view;

       But, like a cloistress, she will veiled walk

       And water once a day her chamber round

       With eye-offending brine; all this to season

       A brother’s dead love, which she would keep fresh

       And lasting in her sad remembrance.

       DUKE.

       O, she that hath a heart of that fine frame

       To pay this debt of love but to a brother,

       How will she love when the rich golden shaft

       Hath kill’d the flock of all affections else

       That live in her; when liver, brain, and heart,

       These sovereign thrones, are all supplied, and fill’d—

       Her sweet perfections — with one self king!

       Away before me to sweet beds of flow’rs;

       Love-thoughts lie rich when canopied with bow’rs.

       [Exeunt.]

       SCENE II. The seacoast.

       [Enter VIOLA, a CAPTAIN, and SAILORS.]

       VIOLA.

       What country, friends, is this?

       CAPTAIN.

       This is Illyria, lady.

       VIOLA.

       And what should I do in Illyria?

       My brother he is in Elysium.

       Perchance he is not drown’d. What think you, sailors?

       CAPTAIN.

       It is perchance that you yourself were sav’d.

       VIOLA.

       O my poor brother! and so perchance may he be.

       CAPTAIN.

       True, madam: and, to comfort you with chance,

       Assure yourself, after our ship did split,

       When you, and those poor number sav’d with you,

       Hung on our driving boat, I saw your brother,

       Most provident in peril, bind himself,

       Courage and hope both teaching him the practice,

       To a strong mast that liv’d upon the sea;

       Where, like Arion on the dolphin’s back,

       I saw him hold acquaintance with the waves

       So long as I could see.

       VIOLA.

       For saying so, there’s gold:

       Mine own escape unfoldeth to my hope,

       Whereto thy speech serves for authority,

       The like of him. Know’st thou this country?

       CAPTAIN.

       Ay, madam, well; for I was bred and born

       Not three hours’ travel from this very place.

       VIOLA.