Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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4.1 Enter the Outlaws

FIRST OUTLAW

Fellows, stand fast. I see a passenger.

SECOND OUTLAW

If there be ten, shrink not, but down with ‘em.

Enter Valentine and Speed

THIRD OUTLAW

Stand, sir, and throw us that you have about ye.

If not, we’ll make you sit, and rifle you.

SPEED (to Valentine)

Sir, we are undone. These are the villains

That all the travellers do fear so much.

VALENTINE (to the Outlaws) My friends.

FIRST OUTLAW

That’s not so, sir. We are your enemies.

SECOND OUTLAW Peace. We’ll hear him.

THIRD OUTLAW Ay, by my beard will we. For he is a proper man.

VALENTINE

Then know that I have little wealth to lose.

A man I am, crossed with adversity.

My riches are these poor habiliments,

Of which if you should here disfurnish me

You take the sum and substance that I have.

SECOND OUTLAW Whither travel you?

VALENTINE To Verona.

FIRST OUTLAW Whence came you?

VALENTINE From Milan. 20

THIRD OUTLAW Have you long sojourned there?

VALENTINE

Some sixteen months, and longer might have stayed

If crooked fortune had not thwarted me.

FIRST OUTLAW

What, were you banished thence?

VALENTINE I was.

SECOND OUTLAW For what offence?

VALENTINE

For that which now torments me to rehearse.

I killed a man, whose death I much repent,

But yet I slew him manfully, in fight,

Without false vantage or base treachery.

FIRST OUTLAW

Why, ne’er repent it, if it were done so.

But were you banished for so small a fault?

VALENTINE

I was, and held me glad of such a doom.

SECOND OUTLAW Have you the tongues?

VALENTINE

My youthful travel therein made me happy,

Or else I had been often miserable.

THIRD OUTLAW

By the bare scalp of Robin Hood’s fat friar,

This fellow were a king for our wild faction.

FIRST OUTLAW

We’ll have him. Sirs, a word.

The Outlaws confer

SPEED (to Valentine) Master, be one of them.

It’s an honourable kind of thievery.

VALENTINE Peace, villain.

SECOND OUTLAW

Tell us this: have you anything to take to?

VALENTINE Nothing but my fortune.

THIRD OUTLAW

Know, then, that some of us are gentlemen

Such as the fury of ungoverned youth

Thrust from the company of aweful men.

Myself was from Verona banished

For practising to steal away a lady,

An heir, and near allied unto the Duke.

SECOND OUTLAW

And I from Mantua, for a gentleman

Who, in my mood, I stabbed unto the heart.

FIRST OUTLAW

And I, for suchlike petty crimes as these.

But to the purpose, for we cite our faults

That they may hold excused our lawless lives.

And partly seeing you are beautified

With goodly shape, and by your own report

A linguist, and a man of such perfection

As we do in our quality much want—

SECOND OUTLAW

Indeed because you are a banished man,

Therefore above the rest we parley to you.

Are you content to be our general,

To make a virtue of necessity

And live as we do in this wilderness?

THIRD OUTLAW

What sayst thou? Wilt thou be of our consort?

Say ‘Ay’, and be the captain of us all.

We’ll do thee homage, and be ruled by thee,

Love thee as our commander and our king.

FIRST OUTLAW

But if thou scorn our courtesy, thou diest.

SECOND OUTLAW

Thou shalt not live to brag what we have offered.

VALENTINE

I take your offer, and will live with you,

Provided that you do no outrages

On silly women or poor passengers.

THIRD OUTLAW

No, we detest such vile, base practices.

Come, go with us. We’ll bring thee to our crews

And show thee all the treasure we have got,

Which, with ourselves, all rest at thy dispose. Exeunt

4.2 Enter Proteus

PROTEUS

Already have I been false to Valentine,

And now I must be as unjust to Thurio.

Under the colour of commending him

I have access my own love to prefer.

But Silvia is too fair, too true, too holy

To be corrupted with my worthless gifts.

When I protest true loyalty to her

She twits me with my falsehood to my friend.

When to her beauty I commend my vows

She bids me think how I have been forsworn

In breaking faith with Julia, whom I loved.

And notwithstanding all her sudden quips,

The least whereof would quell a lover’s hope,

Yet, spaniel-like, the more she spurns my love,

The more it grows and fawneth on her still.

But here comes Thurio. Now must we to her window,

And give some evening music to her ear.

Enter Thurio with Musicians

THURIO

How now, Sir Proteus, are you crept before us?

PROTEUS

Ay, gentle Thurio, for you know that love

Will creep in service where it cannot go.

THURIO

Ay, but I hope, sir, that you love not here.

PROTEUS

Sir, but I do, or else I would be hence.

THURIO

Who, Silvia?

PROTEUS

Ay, Silvia—for your sake.

THURIO

I thank you for your own. Now, gentlemen,

Let’s tune, and to it lustily awhile.

Enter the Host, and Julia, dressed as a page-boy.

They talk apart

HOST Now, my young guest, methinks you’re allycholly. I pray you, why is it?

JULIA Marry, mine host, because I cannot be merry.

HOST Come, we’ll have you merry. I’ll bring you where you shall hear music, and see the gentleman that you asked for.

JULIA But shall I hear him speak?

HOST Ay, that you shall.

JULIA That will be music.

HOST Hark, hark.

JULIA Is he among these?

HOST Ay. But peace, let’s hear ’em.

Song

Who is Silvia? What is she,

That all our swains commend her?

Holy, fair, and wise is she.

The heaven such grace did lend her

That she might admired be.

Is she kind as she is fair?

For beauty lives with kindness.

Love doth to her eyes repair

To help him of his blindness,

And, being helped, inhabits there.

Then to Silvia let us sing

That Silvia is excelling.

She excels each mortal thing

Upon the dull earth dwelling.

To her let us garlands bring.

HOST How now, are you sadder than you were before? How do you, man? The music likes you not.

JULIA You mistake. The musician likes me not.

HOST Why, my pretty youth?

JULIA He plays false, father.

HOST How, out of tune on the strings?

JULIA Not so, but yet so false that he grieves my very heart-strings.

HOST You have a quick ear.

JULIA Ay, I would I were deaf. It makes me have a slow heart.

HOST I perceive you delight not in music.

JULIA Not a whit when it jars so.

HOST Hark what fine change is in the music.

JULIA Ay, that ‘change’ is the spite.

HOST You would have them always play but one thing?

JULIA I would always have one play but one thing. But host, doth this Sir Proteus that we talk on often resort unto this gentlewoman?

HOST I tell you what Lance his man told me, he loved her out of all nick.

JULIA Where is Lance?

HOST Gone to seek his dog, which tomorrow, by his master’s command, he must carry for a present to his lady.

JULIA Peace, stand aside. The company parts.

PROTEUS

Sir Thurio, fear not you. I will so plead

That you shall say my cunning drift excels.

THURIO

Where meet we?

PROTEUS At Saint Gregory’s well.

THURIO Farewell.

Exeunt Thurio and the Musicians

Enter Silvia, above

PROTEUS

Madam, good even to your ladyship.

SILVIA

I thank you for your music, gentlemen.

Who is that that spake?

PROTEUS

One, lady, if you knew his pure heart’s truth

You would quickly learn to know him by his voice.

SILVIA Sir Proteus, as I take it.

PROTEUS

Sir Proteus, gentle lady, and your servant.

SILVIA

What’s your will?

PROTEUS That I may compass yours.

SILVIA

You have your wish. My will is even this,

That presently you hie you home to bed.

Thou subtle, perjured, false, disloyal man,

Think’st thou I am so shallow, so conceitless

To be seduced by thy flattery,

That hast deceived so many with thy vows?

Return, return, and make thy love amends.

For me—by this pale queen of night I swear—

I am so far from granting thy request

That I despise thee for thy wrongful suit,

And by and by intend to chide myself

Even for this time I spend in talking to thee.

PROTEUS

I grant, sweet love, that I did love a lady,

But she is dead.

JULIA (aside) ‘Twere false if I should speak it,

For I am sure she is not buried.

SILVIA

Say that she be, yet Valentine, thy friend,

Survives, to whom, thyself art witness,

I am betrothed. And art thou not ashamed

To wrong him with thy importunacy?

PROTEUS

I likewise hear that Valentine is dead.

SILVIA

And so suppose am I, for in his grave,

Assure thyself, my love is buried.

PROTEUS

Sweet lady, let me rake it from the earth.

SILVIA

Go to thy lady’s grave and call hers thence,

Or at the least, in hers sepulchre thine.

JULIA (aside) He heard not that.

PROTEUS

Madam, if your heart be so obdurate,

Vouchsafe me yet your picture for my love,

The picture that is hanging in your chamber.

To that I’ll speak, to that I’ll sigh and weep;

For since the substance of your perfect self

Is else devoted, I am but a shadow,

And to your shadow will I make true love.

JULIA (aside)

If ’twere a substance, you would sure deceive it

And make it but a shadow, as I am.

SILVIA

I am very loath to be your idol, sir,

But since your falsehood shall become you well

To worship shadows and adore false shapes,

Send to me in the morning, and I’ll send it.

And so, good rest. Exit

PROTEUS

As wretches have o’ernight,

That wait for execution in the morn.

Exit

JULIA Host, will you go?

HOST By my halidom, I was fast asleep.

JULIA Pray you, where lies Sir Proteus?

HOST Marry, at my house. Trust me, I think ’tis almost day.

JULIA

Not so; but it hath been the longest night

That e’er I watched, and the most heaviest.

Exeunt

4.3 Enter Sir Eglamour

EGLAMOUR

This is the hour that Madam Silvia

Entreated me to call, and know her mind.

There’s some great matter she’d employ me in.

Madam, madam!

Enter Silvia [above]

SILVIA Who calls?

EGLAMOUR Your servant, and your friend. One that attends your ladyship’s command.

SILVIA

Sir Eglamour, a thousand times good morrow!

EGLAMOUR

As many, worthy lady, to yourself.

According to your ladyship’s impose

I am thus early come, to know what service

It is your pleasure to command me in.

SILVIA

O Eglamour, thou art a gentleman—

Think not I flatter, for I swear I do not—

Valiant, wise, remorseful, well accomplished.

Thou art not ignorant what dear good will

I bear unto the banished Valentine,

Nor how my father would enforce me marry

Vain Thurio, whom my very soul abhors.

Thyself hast loved, and I have heard thee say

No grief did ever come so near thy heart

As when thy lady and thy true love died,

Upon whose grave thou vowed’st pure chastity.

Sir Eglamour, I would to Valentine,

To Mantua, where I hear he makes abode;

And for the ways are dangerous to pass

I do desire thy worthy company,

Upon whose faith and honour I repose.

Urge not my father’s anger, Eglamour,

But think upon my grief, a lady’s grief,

And on the justice of my flying hence

To keep me from a most unholy match,

Which heaven and fortune still rewards with plagues.

I do desire thee, even from a heart

As full of sorrows as the sea of sands,

To bear me company and go with me.

If not, to hide what I have said to thee

That I may venture to depart alone.

EGLAMOUR

Madam, I pity much your grievances,

Which, since I know they virtuously are placed,

I give consent to go along with you,

Recking as little what betideth me

As much I wish all good befortune you.

When will you go?

SILVIA

This evening coming.

EGLAMOUR

Where shall I meet you?

SILVIA

At Friar Patrick’s cell,

Where I intend holy confession.

EGLAMOUR

I will not fail your ladyship.

Good morrow, gentle lady.

SILVIA

Good morrow, kind Sir Eglamour.

Exeunt

4.4 Enter Lance and his dog Crab

LANCE (to the audience) When a man’s servant shall play the cur with him, look you, it goes hard. One that I brought up of a puppy, one that I saved from drowning when three or four of his blind brothers and sisters went to it. I have taught him, even as one would say precisely ‘Thus I would teach a dog’. I was sent to deliver him as a present to Mistress Silvia from my master, and I came no sooner into the dining-chamber but he steps me to her trencher and steals her capon’s leg. O, ‘tis a foul thing when a cur cannot keep himself in all companies. I would have, as one should say, one that takes upon him to be a dog indeed, to be, as it were, a dog at all things. If I had not had more wit than he, to take a fault upon me that he did, I think verily he had been hanged for’t. Sure as I live, he had suffered for’t. You shall judge. He thrusts me himself into the company of three or four gentleman-like dogs under the Duke’s table. He had not been there—bless the mark—a pissing-while but all the chamber smelled him. ‘Out with the dog,’ says one. ‘What cur is that?’ says another. ‘Whip him out,’ says the third. ‘Hang him up,’ says the Duke. I, having been acquainted with the smell before, knew it was Crab, and goes me to the fellow that whips the dogs. ‘Friend,’ quoth I, ‘you mean to whip the dog.’ ‘Ay, marry do I,’ quoth he. ‘You do him the more wrong,’ quoth I, “twas I did the thing you wot of.’ He makes me no more ado, but whips me out of the chamber. How many masters would do this for his servant? Nay, I’ll be sworn I have sat in the stocks for puddings he hath stolen, otherwise he had been executed. I have stood on the pillory for geese he hath killed, otherwise he had suffered for’t. (To Crab) Thou think’st not of this now. Nay, I remember the trick you served me when I took my leave of Madam Silvia. Did not I bid thee still mark me, and do as I do? When didst thou see me heave up my leg and make water against a gentlewoman’s farthingale? Didst thou ever see me do such a trick?

Enter Proteus, with Julia dressed as a page-boy

PROTEUS (to Julia)

Sebastian is thy name? I like thee well,

And will employ thee in some service presently.

JULIA

In what you please. I’ll do what I can.

PROTEUS

I hope thou wilt.—How now, you whoreson peasant,

Where have you been these two days loitering?

LANCE Marry, sir, I carried Mistress Silvia the dog you bade me.

PROTEUS And what says she to my little jewel?

LANCE Marry, she says your dog was a cur, and tells you currish thanks is good enough for such a present.

PROTEUS But she received my dog?

LANCE No indeed did she not. Here have I brought him back again.

PROTEUS What, didst thou offer her this from me?

LANCE Ay, sir. The other squirrel was stolen from me by the hangman boys in the market place, and then I offered her mine own, who is a dog as big as ten of yours, and therefore the gift the greater.

PROTEUS

Go, get thee hence, and find my dog again,

Or ne‘er return again into my sight.

Away, I say. Stay’st thou to vex me here?

Exit Lance with Crab

A slave, that still on end turns me to shame.

Sebastian, I have entertained thee

Partly that I have need of such a youth

That can with some discretion do my business,

For ’tis no trusting to yon foolish lout,

But chiefly for thy face and thy behaviour,

Which, if my augury deceive me not,

Witness good bringing up, fortune, and truth.

Therefore know thou, for this I entertain thee.

Go presently, and take this ring with thee.

Deliver it to Madam Silvia.

She loved me well delivered it to me.

JULIA

It seems you loved not her, to leave her token.

She is dead belike?

PROTEUS Not so. I think she lives.

JULIA

Alas.

Proteus Why dost thou cry ‘Alas’?

JULIA

I cannot choose but pity her.

PROTEUS

Wherefore shouldst thou pity her?

JULIA

Because methinks that she loved you as well

As you do love your lady Silvia.

She dreams on him that has forgot her love;

You dote on her that cares not for your love.

‘Tis pity love should be so contrary,

And thinking on it makes me cry ‘Alas’.

PROTEUS

Well, give her that ring, and therewithal

This letter. (Pointing) That’s her chamber. Tell my

lady

I claim the promise for her heavenly picture.

Your message done, hie home unto my chamber,

Where thou shalt find me sad and solitary.

Exit

JULIA

How many women would do such a message?

Alas, poor Proteus, thou hast entertained

A fox to be the shepherd of thy lambs.

Alas, poor fool, why do I pity him

That with his very heart despiseth me?

Because he loves her, he despiseth me.

Because I love him, I must pity him.

This ring I gave him when he parted from me,

To bind him to remember my good will.

And now am I, unhappy messenger,

To plead for that which I would not obtain;

To carry that which I would have refused;

To praise his faith, which I would have dispraised.

I am my master’s true-confirmèd love,

But cannot be true servant to my master

Unless I prove false traitor to myself.

Yet will I woo for him, but yet so coldly

As, heaven it knows, I would not have him speed.

Enter Silvia

Gentlewoman, good day. I pray you be my mean

To bring me where to speak with Madam Silvia.

SILVIA

What would you with her, if that I be she?

JULIA

If you be she, I do entreat your patience

To hear me speak the message I am sent on.

SILVIA

From whom?

JULIA

From my master, Sir Proteus, madam.

SILVIA O, he sends you for a picture?

JULIA Ay, madam.

SILVIA Ursula, bring my picture there.

[An attendant brings a picture]

Go, give your master this. Tell him from me

One Julia, that his changing thoughts forget,

Would better fit his chamber than this shadow.

JULIA

Madam, please you peruse this letter.

She gives Silvia a letter

Pardon me, madam, I have unadvised

Delivered you a paper that I should not.

She takes back the letter and gives Silvia another letter

This is the letter to your ladyship.

SILVIA

I pray thee, let me look on that again.

JULIA

It may not be. Good madam, pardon me.

SILVIA

There, hold. I will not look upon your master’s lines.

I know they are stuffed with protestations,

And full of new-found oaths, which he will break

As easily as I do tear his paper.

She tears the letter

JULIA

Madam, he sends your ladyship this ring.

She offers Silvia a ring

SILVIA

The more shame for him, that he sends it me;

For I have heard him say a thousand times

His Julia gave it him at his departure.

Though his false finger have profaned the ring,

Mine shall not do his Julia so much wrong.

JULIA She thanks you.

SILVIA What sayst thou?

JULIA

I thank you, madam, that you tender her.

Poor gentlewoman, my master wrongs her much.

SILVIA

Dost thou know her?

JULIA

Almost as well as I do know myself.

To think upon her woes I do protest

That I have wept a hundred several times.

SILVIA

Belike she thinks that Proteus hath forsook her?

JULIA

I think she doth; and that’s her cause of sorrow.

SILVIA Is she not passing fair?

JULIA

She hath been fairer, madam, than she is.

When she did think my master loved her well

She, in my judgement, was as fair as you.

But since she did neglect her looking-glass,

And threw her sun-expelling mask away,

The air hath starved the roses in her cheeks

And pinched the lily tincture of her face,

That now she is become as black as I.

SILVIA How tall was she?

JULIA

About my stature; for at Pentecost,

When all our pageants of delight were played,

Our youth got me to play the woman’s part,

And I was trimmed in Madam Julia’s gown,

Which served me as fit, by all men’s judgements,

As if the garment had been made for me;

Therefore I know she is about my height.

And at that time I made her weep agood,

For I did play a lamentable part.

Madam, ’twas Ariadne, passioning

For Theseus’ perjury and unjust flight;

Which I so lively acted with my tears

That my poor mistress, moved therewithal,

Wept bitterly; and would I might be dead

If I in thought felt not her very sorrow.

SILVIA

She is beholden to thee, gentle youth.

Alas, poor lady, desolate and left.

I weep myself to think upon thy words.

Here, youth. There is my purse. I give thee this

For thy sweet mistress’ sake, because thou lov’st her.

Farewell.

Exit

JULIA

And she shall thank you for‘t, if e’er you know her.—

A virtuous gentlewoman, mild, and beautiful.

I hope my master’s suit will be but cold,

Since she respects ‘my mistress” love so much.

Alas, how love can trifle with itself.

Here is her picture. Let me see, I think

If I had such a tire, this face of mine

Were full as lovely as is this of hers.

And yet the painter flattered her a little,

Unless I flatter with myself too much.

Her hair is auburn, mine is perfect yellow.

If that be all the difference in his love,

I’ll get me such a coloured periwig.

Her eyes are grey as glass, and so are mine.

Ay, but her forehead’s low, and mine’s as high.

What should it be that he respects in her

But I can make respective in myself,

If this fond love were not a blinded god?

Come, shadow, come, and take this shadow up,

For ’tis thy rival.

She picks up the portrait

O thou senseless form,

Thou shalt be worshipped, kissed, loved, and adored;

And were there sense in his idolatry

My substance should be statue in thy stead.

I’ll use thee kindly, for thy mistress’ sake,

That used me so; or else, by Jove I vow,

I should have scratched out your unseeing eyes,

To make my master out of love with thee. Exit