Hamlet. Macbeth / Гамлет. Макбет - стр. 14

Adieu, adieu, adieu. Remember me.

[Exit]

O all you host of heaven! O earth! What else?

And shall I couple hell? O, fie! Hold, my heart;

And you, my sinews, grow not instant old,

But bear me stiffly up. Remember thee?

Ay, thou poor ghost, while memory holds a seat

In this distracted globe. Remember thee?

Yea, from the table of my memory

I'll wipe away all trivial fond records,

All saws of books, all forms, all pressures past,

That youth and observation copied there;

And thy commandment all alone shall live

Within the book and volume of my brain,

Unmix'd with baser matter. Yes, by heaven!

O most pernicious woman!

O villain, villain, smiling damned villain!

My tables. Meet it is I set it down,

That one may smile, and smile, and be a villain!

At least I am sure it may be so in Denmark.

[Writing]

So, uncle, there you are. Now to my word;

It is 'Adieu, adieu, remember me.'

I have sworn't.

[Within]

My lord, my lord.

[Within]

Lord Hamlet.

[Within]

Heaven secure him.

So be it!

[Within]

Illo, ho, ho, my lord!

Hillo, ho, ho, boy! Come, bird, come.

[Enter Horatio and Marcellus]

How is't, my noble lord?

What news, my lord?

O, wonderful!

Good my lord, tell it.

No, you'll reveal it.

Not I, my lord, by heaven.

Nor I, my lord.

How say you then, would heart of man once

                         think it? —

But you'll be secret?

Ay, by heaven, my lord.

There's ne'er a villain dwelling in all Denmark

But he's an arrant knave.

There needs no ghost, my lord, come from

                         the grave

To tell us this.

Why, right; you are i' the right;

And so, without more circumstance at all,

I hold it fit that we shake hands and part:

You, as your business and desire shall point you, —

For every man hath business and desire,

Such as it is;-and for my own poor part,

Look you, I'll go pray.

These are but wild and whirling words, my lord.

I'm sorry they offend you, heartily;

Yes faith, heartily.

There's no offence, my lord.

Yes, by Saint Patrick, but there is, Horatio,

And much offence too. Touching this vision here,

It is an honest ghost, that let me tell you.

For your desire to know what is between us,

O'ermaster't as you may. And now, good friends,

As you are friends, scholars, and soldiers,

Give me one poor request.

What is't, my lord? We will.

Never make known what you have seen tonight.

My lord, we will not.

Nay, but swear't.