Читать книгу The Complete Works of Shakespeare онлайн

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Thou diest for it.

Ros.

I do beseech your Grace

Let me the knowledge of my fault bear with me:

If with myself I hold intelligence,

Or have acquaintance with mine own desires;

If that I do not dream, or be not frantic

(As I do trust I am not), then, dear uncle,

Never so much as in a thought unborn

Did I offend your Highness.

Duke F.

Thus do all traitors:

If their purgation did consist in words,

They are as innocent as grace itself.

Let it suffice thee that I trust thee not.

Ros.

Yet your mistrust cannot make me a traitor.

Tell me whereon the [likelihood] depends.

Duke F.

Thou art thy father’s daughter, there’s enough.

Ros.

So was I when your Highness took his dukedom,

So was I when your Highness banish’d him.

Treason is not inherited, my lord,

Or if we did derive it from our friends,

What’s that to me? my father was no traitor.

Then, good my liege, mistake me not so much

To think my poverty is treacherous.

Cel.

Dear sovereign, hear me speak.

Duke F.

Ay, Celia, we stay’d her for your sake,