Beautiful Stories from Shakespeare. Уильям Шекспир
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first thing she saw was a stupid clown, one of a party of players who had come out into the wood to rehearse their play. This clown had met with Puck, who had clapped an ass’s head on his shoulders so that it looked as if it grew there. Directly Titania woke and saw this dreadful monster, she said, “What angel is this? Are you as wise as you are beautiful?”
“If I am wise enough to find my way out of this wood, that’s enough for me,” said the foolish clown.
“Do not desire to go out of the wood,” said Titania. The spell of the love-juice was on her, and to her the clown seemed the most beautiful and delightful creature on all the earth. “I love you,” she went on. “Come with me, and I will give you fairies to attend on you.”
So she called four fairies, whose names were Peaseblossom, Cobweb, Moth, and Mustardseed.
“You must attend this gentleman,” said the Queen. “Feed him with apricots and dewberries, purple grapes, green figs, and mulberries. Steal honey-bags for him from the bumble-bees, and with the wings of painted butterflies fan the moonbeams from his sleeping eyes.”
“I will,” said one of the fairies, and all the others said, “I will.”
“Now, sit down with me,” said the Queen to the clown, “and let me stroke your dear cheeks, and stick musk-roses in your smooth, sleek head, and kiss your fair large ears, my gentle joy.”
“Where’s Peaseblossom?” asked the clown with the ass’s head. He did not care much about the Queen’s affection, but he was very proud of having fairies to wait on him. “Ready,” said Peaseblossom.
“Scratch my head, Peaseblossom,” said the clown. “Where’s Cobweb?” “Ready,” said Cobweb.
“Kill me,” said the clown, “the red bumble-bee on the top of the thistle yonder, and bring me the honey-bag. Where’s Mustardseed?”
“Ready,” said Mustardseed.
“Oh, I want nothing,” said the clown. “Only just help Cobweb to scratch. I must go to the barber’s, for methinks I am marvelous hairy about the face.”
“Would you like anything to eat?” said the fairy Queen.
“I should like some good dry oats,” said the clown-for his donkey’s head made him desire donkey’s food-“and some hay to follow.”
“Shall some of my fairies fetch you new nuts from the squirrel’s house?” asked the Queen.
“I’d rather have a handful or two of good dried peas,” said the clown. “But please don’t let any of your people disturb me; I am going to sleep.”
Then said the Queen, “And I will wind thee in my arms.”
And so when Oberon came along he found his beautiful Queen lavishing kisses and endearments on a clown with a donkey’s head.
And before he released her from the enchantment, he persuaded her to give him the little Indian boy he so much desired to have. Then he took pity on her, and threw some juice of the disenchanting flower on her pretty eyes; and then in a moment she saw plainly the donkey-headed clown she had been loving, and knew how foolish she had been.
Oberon took off the ass’s head from the clown, and left him to finish his sleep with his own silly head lying on the thyme and violets.
Thus all was made plain and straight again. Oberon and Titania loved each other more than ever. Demetrius thought of no one but Helena, and Helena had never had any thought of anyone but Demetrius.
As for Hermia and Lysander, they were as loving a couple as you could meet in a day’s march, even through a fairy wood.
So the four mortal lovers went back to Athens and were married; and the fairy King and Queen live happily together in that very wood at this very day.
THE TEMPEST
Prospero, the Duke of Milan, was a learned and studious man, who lived among his books, leaving the management of his dukedom to his brother Antonio, in whom indeed he had complete trust. But that trust was ill-rewarded, for Antonio wanted to wear the duke’s crown himself, and, to gain his ends, would have killed his brother but for the love the people bore him. However, with the help of Prospero’s great enemy, Alonso, King of Naples, he managed to get into his hands the dukedom with all its honor, power, and riches. For they took Prospero to sea, and when they were far away from land, forced him into a little boat with no tackle, mast, or sail. In their cruelty and hatred they put his little daughter, Miranda (not yet three years old), into the boat with him, and sailed away, leaving them to their fate.
But one among the courtiers with Antonio was true to his rightful master, Prospero. To save the duke from his enemies was impossible, but much could be done to remind him of a subject’s love. So this worthy lord, whose name was Gonzalo, secretly placed in the boat some fresh water, provisions, and clothes, and what Prospero valued most of all, some of his precious books.
The boat was cast on an island, and Prospero and his little one landed in safety. Now this island was enchanted, and for years had lain under the spell of a fell witch, Sycorax, who had imprisoned in the trunks of trees all the good spirits she found there. She died shortly before Prospero was cast on those shores, but the spirits, of whom Ariel was the chief, still remained in their prisons.
Prospero was a great magician, for he had devoted himself almost entirely to the study of magic during the years in which he allowed his brother to manage the affairs of Milan. By his art he set free the imprisoned spirits, yet kept them obedient to his will, and they were more truly his subjects than his people in Milan had been. For he treated them kindly as long as they did his bidding, and he exercised his power over them wisely and well. One creature alone he found it necessary to treat with harshness: this was Caliban, the son of the wicked old witch, a hideous, deformed monster, horrible to look on, and vicious and brutal in all his habits.
When Miranda was grown up into a maiden, sweet and fair to see, it chanced that Antonio and Alonso, with Sebastian, his brother, and Ferdinand, his son, were at sea together with old Gonzalo, and their ship came near Prospero’s island. Prospero, knowing they were there, raised by his art a great storm, so that even the sailors on board gave themselves up for lost; and first among them all Prince Ferdinand leaped into the sea, and, as his father thought in his grief, was drowned. But Ariel brought him safe ashore; and all the rest of the crew, although they were washed overboard, were landed unhurt in different parts of the island, and the good ship herself, which they all thought had been wrecked, lay at anchor in the harbor whither Ariel had brought her. Such wonders could Prospero and his spirits perform.
While yet the tempest was raging, Prospero showed his daughter the brave ship laboring in the trough of the sea, and told her that it was filled with living human beings like themselves. She, in pity of their lives, prayed him who had raised this storm to quell it. Then her father bade her to have no fear, for he intended to save every one of them.
Then, for the first time, he told her the story of his life and hers, and that he had caused this storm to rise in order that his enemies, Antonio and Alonso, who were on board, might be delivered into his hands.
When he had made an end of his story he charmed her into sleep, for Ariel was at hand, and he had work for him to do. Ariel, who longed for his complete freedom, grumbled to be kept in drudgery, but on being threateningly reminded of all the sufferings he had undergone when Sycorax ruled in the land, and of the debt of gratitude he owed to the master who had made those sufferings to end, he ceased to complain, and promised faithfully to do whatever Prospero might command.
“Do so,” said Prospero, “and in two days I will discharge thee.”
Then he bade Ariel take the form of a water nymph and sent him in search of the young prince. And Ariel, invisible to Ferdinand, hovered near him, singing the while-
“Come unto these yellow sands
And then take hands:
Court’sied when you have, and kiss’d
(The wild waves whist),
Foot it featly here and there;
And,