Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Pray you lock hand in hand; yourselves in order set;

And twenty glow-worms shall our lanthorns be,

To guide our measure round about the tree.

But stay, I smell a man of middle-earth.

Fal. Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy, lest he transform me to a piece of cheese!

Pist.

Vild worm, thou wast o’erlook’d even in thy birth.

Quick.

With trial-fire touch me his finger-end.

If he be chaste, the flame will back descend

And turn him to no pain; but if he start,

It is the flesh of a corrupted heart.

Pist.

A trial, come.

Evans.

Come, will this wood take fire?

[They put the tapers to his fingers, and he starts.]

Fal.

O, O, O!

Quick.

Corrupt, corrupt, and tainted in desire!

About him, fairies, sing a scornful rhyme,

And as you trip, still pinch him to your time.

The Song

Fie on sinful fantasy!

Fie on lust and luxury!

Lust is but a bloody fire,

Kindled with unchaste desire,

Fed in heart, whose flames aspire,

As thoughts do blow them, higher and higher.

Pinch him, fairies, mutually!