Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

259 страница из 942

Write till your ink be dry, and with your tears

Moist it again, and frame some feeling line

That may discover such integrity:

For Orpheus’ lute was strung with poets’ sinews,

Whose golden touch could soften steel and stones,

Make tigers tame, and huge leviathans

Forsake unsounded deeps to dance on sands.

After your dire-lamenting elegies,

Visit by night your lady’s chamber-window

With some sweet consort; to their instruments

Tune a deploring dump—the night’s dead silence

Will well become such sweet-complaining grievance.

This, or else nothing, will inherit her.

Duke.

This discipline shows thou hast been in love.

Thu.

And thy advice this night I’ll put in practice:

Therefore, sweet Proteus, my direction-giver,

Let us into the city presently

To sort some gentlemen well skill’d in music.

I have a sonnet that will serve the turn

To give the onset to thy good advice.

Duke.

About it, gentlemen!

Pro.

We’ll wait upon your Grace till after supper,

And afterward determine our proceedings.