Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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[Exit Messenger.]

How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!

Here will we sit, and let the sounds of music

Creep in our ears. Soft stillness and the night

Become the touches of sweet harmony.

Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven

Is thick inlaid with patens of bright gold.

There’s not the smallest orb which thou behold’st

But in his motion like an angel sings,

Still quiring to the young-ey’d cherubins;

Such harmony is in immortal souls,

But whilst this muddy vesture of decay

Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.

[Enter Musicians.]

Come ho, and wake Diana with a hymn,

With sweetest touches pierce your mistress’ ear,

And draw her home with music.

Play Music.

Jes.

I am never merry when I hear sweet music.

Lor.

The reason is, your spirits are attentive;

For do but note a wild and wanton herd

Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,

Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,

Which is the hot condition of their blood,

If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,