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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare. Уильям Шекспир
Читать онлайн.Название The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
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isbn 9788075834447
Автор произведения Уильям Шекспир
Жанр Языкознание
Издательство Bookwire
Do not infest your mind with beating on
The strangeness of this business: at pick’d leisure,
Which shall be shortly, single I’ll resolve you,—
Which to you shall seem probable—of every
These happen’d accidents; till when, be cheerful
And think of each thing well.—[Aside to ARIEL] Come
hither, spirit;
Set Caliban and his companions free;
Untie the spell. [Exit ARIEL] How fares my gracious sir?
There are yet missing of your company
Some few odd lads that you remember not.
[Re-enter ARIEL, driving in CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and
TRINCULO, in their stolen apparel.]
STEPHANO. Every man shift for all the rest, and let no man take care for himself, for all is but fortune.—Coragio! bully-monster, Coragio!
TRINCULO. If these be true spies which I wear in my head, here’s a goodly sight.
CALIBAN.
O Setebos, these be brave spirits indeed.
How fine my master is! I am afraid
He will chastise me.
SEBASTIAN.
Ha, ha!
What things are these, my lord Antonio?
Will money buy them?
ANTONIO.
Very like; one of them
Is a plain fish, and, no doubt, marketable.
PROSPERO.
Mark but the badges of these men, my lords,
Then say if they be true.—This misshapen knave—
His mother was a witch; and one so strong
That could control the moon, make flows and ebbs,
And deal in her command without her power.
These three have robb’d me; and this demi-devil,—
For he’s a bastard one,—had plotted with them
To take my life: two of these fellows you
Must know and own; this thing of darkness I
Acknowledge mine.
CALIBAN.
I shall be pinch’d to death.
ALONSO.
Is not this Stephano, my drunken butler?
SEBASTIAN.
He is drunk now: where had he wine?
ALONSO.
And Trinculo is reeling-ripe: where should they
Find this grand liquor that hath gilded them?
How cam’st thou in this pickle?
TRINCULO. I have been in such a pickle since I saw you last that, I fear me, will never out of my bones. I shall not fear fly-blowing.
SEBASTIAN.
Why, how now, Stephano!
STEPHANO.
O! touch me not: I am not Stephano, but a cramp.
PROSPERO.
You’d be king o’ the isle, sirrah?
STEPHANO.
I should have been a sore one, then.
ALONSO.
This is as strange a thing as e’er I look’d on.
[Pointing to CALIBAN]
PROSPERO.
He is as disproportioned in his manners
As in his shape.—Go, sirrah, to my cell;
Take with you your companions: as you look
To have my pardon, trim it handsomely.
CALIBAN.
Ay, that I will; and I’ll be wise hereafter,
And seek for grace. What a thrice-double ass
Was I, to take this drunkard for a god,
And worship this dull fool!
PROSPERO.
Go to; away!
ALONSO.
Hence, and bestow your luggage where you found it.
SEBASTIAN.
Or stole it, rather.
[Exeunt CALIBAN, STEPHANO, and TRINCULO.]
PROSPERO.
Sir, I invite your Highness and your train
To my poor cell, where you shall take your rest
For this one night; which—part of it—I’ll waste
With such discourse as, I not doubt, shall make it
Go quick away; the story of my life
And the particular accidents gone by
Since I came to this isle: and in the morn
I’ll bring you to your ship, and so to Naples,
Where I have hope to see the nuptial
Of these our dear-belov’d solemnized;
And thence retire me to my Milan, where
Every third thought shall be my grave.
ALONSO.
I long To hear the story of your life, which must
Take the ear strangely.
PROSPERO.
I’ll deliver all;
And promise you calm seas, auspicious gales,
And sail so expeditious that shall catch
Your royal fleet far off.—[Aside to ARIEL] My Ariel,
chick,
That is thy charge: then to the elements
Be free, and fare thou well!—Please you, draw near.
[Exeunt]
EPILOGUE
[Spoken by PROSPERO]
Now my charms are all o’erthrown,
And what strength I have’s mine own;
Which is most faint; now ‘tis true,
I must be here confin’d by you,
Or sent to Naples. Let me not,
Since I have my dukedom got,
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.