Беспокойное бессмертие: 450 лет со дня рождения Уильяма Шекспира

Шекспир Уильям

^Embrace.

King Edward

A pleasing cordial, princely Buckingham, Is this thy vow unto my sickly heart. There wanteth now our brother Gloucester here To make the bless`ed period of this peace.

Buckingham

And, in good time, Here comes Sir Richard Ratcliffe and the duke.

^{Enter Ratcliffe and Richard.}

Richard

Good morrow to my sovereign king and queen; And princely peers, a happy time of day.

King Edward

Happy, indeed, as we have spent the day. Brother, we have done deeds of charity, Made peace of enmity, fair love of hate, Between these swelling wrong-incens`ed peers.

Richard

A bless`ed labour, my most sovereign lord. Among this princely heap, if any here By false intelligence or wrong surmise Hold me a foe; if I unwittingly or in my rage Have aught committed that is hardly borne By any in this presence, I desire To reconcile me to his friendly peace. ’Tis death to me to be at enmity; I hate it and desire all good men’s love. First, madam, I entreat true peace of you, Which I will purchase with my duteous service; Of you, my noble cousin Buckingham, If ever any grudge were lodged between us; Of you and you, Lord Rivers, and of Dorset, That all without desert have frowned on me; Of you, Lord Woodville, and Lord Scales, of you; Dukes, earls, lords, gentlemen, indeed of all. I do not know that Englishman alive With whom my soul is any jot at odds More than the infant that is born tonight I thank my God for my humility.

Elizabeth

A holy day shall this be kept hereafter. I would to God all strifes were well compounded. My sovereign lord, I do beseech your highness To take our brother Clarence to your grace.

Richard

Why, madam, have I offered love for this, To be so flouted in this royal presence? Who knows not that the noble duke is dead?

^{They all start.}

You do him injury to scorn his corpse.

King Edward

Who knows not he is dead? Who knows he is?

Elizabeth

All-seeing heaven, what a world is this?

Buckingham

Look I so pale, Lord Dorset, as the rest?

Dorset

Ay, my good lord, and no one in the presence But his red colour hath forsook his cheeks.

King Edward

Is Clarence dead? The order was reversed.

Richard

But he (poor man) by your first order died, And that a wing`ed Mercury did bear; Some tardy cripple bore the countermand, That came too lag to see him buri`ed. God grant that some, less noble and less loyal, Nearer in bloody thoughts and not in blood, Deserve not worse than wretched Clarence did, And yet go current from suspicion. Enter Stanley earl of Derby.

Stanley

A boon, my sovereign, for my service done.

King Edward

I prithee, peace, my soul is full of sorrow.

Stanley

I will not rise unless your highness hear me.

King Edward

Then speak at once what is it thou requests.

Stanley

The forfeit, sovereign, of my servant’s life, Who slew today a riotous gentleman Lately attendant on the Duke of Norfolk.

King Edward

Have a tongue to doom my brother’s death, And shall the same give pardon to a slave? My brother killed no man; his fault was thought, And yet his punishment was bitter death. Who sued to me for him? Who (in my wrath) Kneeled at my feet, and bade me be advised? Who spoke of brotherhood? Who spoke of love? Who told me how the poor soul did forsake The mighty Warwick, and did fight for me? Who told me, in the field ’at Tewksbury When Oxford had me down, he rescued me And said ’Dear brother, live, and be a king’? Who told me, when we both lay in the field, Frozen almost to death, how he did lap me Even in his garments and gave himself (All thin and naked) to the numb cold night? All this from my remembrance brutish wrath Sinfully plucked, and not a man of you Had so much grace to put it in my mind. But when your carters or your waiting vassals Have done a drunken slaughter and defaced The precious image of our dear redeemer, You straight are on your knees for pardon, pardon, And I, unjustly too, must grant it you. But for my brother not a man would speak, Nor I, ungracious, speak unto myself For him, poor soul. The proudest of you all Have been beholding to him in his life, Yet none of you would once beg for his life. O God, I fear thy justice will take hold On me and you, and mine, and yours, for this. Come, Hastings, help me to my closet. Ah, poor Clarence!

^{Exeunt some with King and Queen.}

Richard

This is the fruit of rashness. Marked you not How that the guilty kindred of the queen Looked pale when they did hear of Clarence’ death? Oh, they did urge it still unto the king. God will revenge it. Come, lords, will you go To comfort Edward with our company?

Buckingham

We wait upon your grace.

^Exeunt.

Акт I

Сцена 1

^Входит

Ричард, герцог Глостер. Он один.

Ричард

Днесь стужу наших бедствий превратил Не отсвет солнца, отпрыск Йорка — в лето, И толща мрачных туч над домом Йорков Навек исчезла в море слез чужих. Днесь на челе у нас венцы победны, Доспехи снятые блестят с домашних стен, Труба зовет на пир, а не на битву, Сменился ратный строй отрадой танцев. Днесь мрачный дух войны не хмурит брови — Чем прыгать на стального скакуна, Чтобы пугать противников ужасных, В покои дам он ловко проскользнет, Чтобы прельщаться томным звуком лютни. Но я не создан для таких забав, Не отражусь я в зеркале любовном; Я отчеканен грубо, и не стать мне Перед вертлявой девою блистать; Обрезок соразмерности прекрасной, Лишен я образа природой лицемерной И искаженный послан ей до срока В мир совершенства недосотворен, Настолько хром и безобразен, что Вслед появленью моему собаки лают, — Поре затишья вовсе я не рад, Мне время в играх проводить не в пору — А разве что на собственную тень Коситься, тешась собственным уродством. Но раз уж не гожусь я в кавалеры, Чтоб проводить в забавах эти дни, Я докажу, что я гожусь в злодеи, Утехи этих дней несносны мне. Расставил я силки, сплетя их ловко Из пьяных грез, пророчеств, клеветы, Чтоб угодив в них, Кларенс и король Возненавидели теперь друг друга смертно; Когда король столь искрен, справедлив, Сколь я лукав, и лжив, и вероломен, Днесь Кларенса запрут, как птицу в клетке, Из-за пророчества о том, что буква Джи Для Эдварда потомков смертоносна, Но спрячься мысль на дне души — Вот и Кларенс —

^{Входят Кларенс под стражей и Брекенбери} [135] ^{, комендант Тауэра.}

День добрый, брат. Что значит эта стража При вас?

Кларенс

Его Величество король Назначил стражу охранять меня, Чтоб в Тауэр я прибыл невредимым.

135

В неоконченном переводе произвольно чередуются варианты «Брекенбери» и «Брукенбери». Для настоящего издания мы позволили себе унифицировать написание и остановиться на первом из них, как более частотном. ( Прим. ред.)