Сон в летнюю ночь шекспир на английском

The same. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA

lying asleep. Enter TITANIA and BOTTOM; PEASEBLOSSOM, COBWEB, MOTH, MUSTARDSEED, and other Fairies

attending; OBERON behind unseen Òàì æå. Ëèçàíäð, Ãåðìèÿ, Äåìåòðèé, Åëåíà ñïÿò. Âõîäèò

Òèòàíèÿ ñ Îñíîâîé, çà íèìè ýëüôû. Â ãëóáèíå Îáåðîí,

íåâèäèìûé äëÿ íèõ. Titania

Come, sit thee down upon this flowery bed,

While I thy amiable cheeks do coy,

And stick musk-roses in thy sleek smooth head,

And kiss thy fair large ears, my gentle joy.

Òèòàíèÿ

Ëþáîâü ìîÿ, çäåñü íà öâåòû ïðèñÿäü!

ß ãîëîâó ïîãëàæó äîðîãóþ.

Äàé ðîçàìè òåáÿ ìíå óâåí÷àòü.

Äàé óøè ÿ áîëüøèå ðàñöåëóþ.

Bottom

Where’s Peaseblossom?

Îñíîâà

Ãäå Äóøèñòûé Ãîðîøåê?

Peaseblossom

Ready.

Äóøèñòûé Ãîðîøåê

ß çäåñü.

Bottom

Scratch my head Peaseblossom. Where’s Mounsieur Cobweb?

Îñíîâà

Ïî÷åøèòå-êà ìíå ãîëîâó, Äóøèñòûé Ãîðîøåê. – À ãäå Ïàóòèíêà?

Cobweb

Ready.

Ïàóòèíêà

Çäåñü!

Bottom

Mounsieur Cobweb, good mounsieur, get you your weapons in your hand, and kill me a red-hipped humble-bee on the top of a thistle; and, good mounsieur, bring me the honey-bag. Do not fret yourself too much in the action, mounsieur; and, good mounsieur, have a care the honey-bag break not; I would be loath to have you overflown with a honey-bag, signior. Where’s Mounsieur Mustardseed?

Îñíîâà

Ãîñïîæà Ïàóòèíêà, ëþáåçíàÿ ãîñïîæà Ïàóòèíêà, âîçüìèòå-êà îðóæèå â ðóêè è óáåéòå âîí òîãî êðàñíîíîãîãî øìåëÿ, ÷òî ñèäèò íà ðåïåéíèêå, è, ìèëåéøàÿ ìîÿ, ïðèíåñèòå ìíå åãî ìåäîâûé ìåøî÷åê. Äà ñìîòðèòå, ìèëåéøàÿ ãîñïîæà Ïàóòèíêà, áåðåãèòåñü, ÷òîáû ìåøî÷åê íå ëîïíóë: ìíå áóäåò î÷åíü ïðèñêîðáíî, åñëè âû îáîëüåòåñü ìåäîì, ñèíüîðà. – À ãäå ãîñïîäèí Ãîð÷è÷íîå Çåðíûøêî?

Mustardseed

Ready.

Ãîð÷è÷íîå Çåðíî

ß çäåñü!

Bottom

Give me your neaf, Mounsieur Mustardseed. Pray you,

leave your courtesy, good mounsieur.

Îñíîâà

Ïîæàëóéòå-êà ñþäà âàøó ëàïêó, ãîñïîäèí Ãîð÷è÷íîå Çåðíûøêî. Äà áðîñüòå

âñÿêèå öåðåìîíèè, ïðîøó âàñ, ëþáåçíûé ìîé ãîñïîäèí Ãîð÷è÷íîå Çåðíûøêî.

Mustardseed

What’s your Will?

Ãîð÷è÷íîå Çåðíî

×òî âàì óãîäíî ïðèêàçàòü?

Bottom

Nothing, good mounsieur, but to help Cavalery Cobweb to scratch. I must to the barber’s, monsieur; for methinks I am marvellous hairy about the face; and I am such a tender ass, if my hair do but tickle me, I must scratch.

Îñíîâà

Íè÷åãî îñîáåííîãî, ïî÷òåííåéøèé, òîëüêî ïîìîãèòå êàâàëåðó Äóøèñòîìó Ãîðîøêó ÷åñàòü ìåíÿ. Íàäî áû ìíå ê öèðþëüíèêó, ëþáåçíåéøèé: ìíå ñäàåòñÿ, ÷òî ó ìåíÿ ëèöî ñëèøêîì óæ çàðîñëî âîëîñàìè. À ÿ òàêîé íåæíûé îñåë: ÷óòü ìåíÿ âîëîñîê ãäå-íèáóäü ïîùåêî÷åò – ÿ äîëæåí ñêðåñòèñü.

Titania

What, wilt thou hear some music,

my sweet love?

Òèòàíèÿ

Íå õî÷åøü ëè òû ìóçûêè ïîñëóøàòü,

Ëþáîâü ìîÿ?

Bottom

I have a reasonable good ear in music. Let’s have the tongs and the bones.

Îñíîâà

Î, ÷òî äî ìóçûêè – ó ìåíÿ îòëè÷íîå óõî. Íó ÷òî æ, ïîæàëóé, ñûãðàéòå ìíå ÷òî-íèáóäü íà ùèïöàõ è íà êîñòÿøêàõ.

Ãðóñòíàÿ ìóçûêà.

Titania

Or say, sweet love, what thou desirest to eat.

Òèòàíèÿ

À ìîæåò áûòü, ñêàæè ìíå, íåæíûé äðóã,

Æåëàåøü òû ÷åãî-íèáóäü ïîêóøàòü?

Bottom

Truly, a peck of provender: I could munch your good dry oats. Methinks I have a great desire to a bottle of hay: good hay, sweet hay, hath no fellow.

Îñíîâà

×òî æ, ÿ, ïîæàëóé, ñúåë áû ãàðíåö-äðóãîé êîðìó: ïîæàëóé, ïîæåâàë áû õîðîøåãî ñóõîãî îâñåöà. Íåò, âîò ÷òî: ñàìîå ëó÷øåå – äàéòå ìíå îõàïêó ñåíà. Ñ õîðîøèì, ñëàäêèì ñåíîì íè÷òî íå ñðàâíèòñÿ.

Titania

I have a venturous fairy that shall seek

The squirrel’s hoard, and fetch thee new nuts.

Òèòàíèÿ

Åñòü ó ìåíÿ îäèí îòâàæíûé ýëüô:

Ó áåëî÷åê îáûùåò ñêëàäû îí

È ïðèíåñåò òåáå îðåøêîâ ñâåæèõ.

Bottom

I had rather have a handful or two of dried peas. But, I pray you, let none of your people stir me: I have an exposition of sleep come upon me.

Îñíîâà

ß áû ïðåäïî÷åë ïðèãîðøíè äâå ñóõîãî ãîðîõà Âïðî÷åì, ïîæàëóéñòà, ïóñòü âàø íàðîäåö ïîêà îòñòàíåò îò ìåíÿ ÿ ÷óâñòâóþ, ÷òî ìåíÿ îäîëåâàåò ñîí.

Titania

Sleep thou, and I will wind thee in my arms.

Fairies, begone, and be all ways away.

Exeunt fairies

So doth the woodbine the sweet honeysuckle

Gently entwist; the female ivy so

Enrings the barky fingers of the elm.

O, how I love thee! how I dote on thee!

They sleep. Enter PUCK

Òèòàíèÿ

Ñïè! ß òåáÿ ðóêàìè îáîâüþ. –

Ñòóïàéòå, ýëüôû, âñå ðàññåéòåñü ïðî÷ü.

Ýëüôû óëåòàþò.

Òàê æèìîëîñòü äóøèñòàÿ ñòâîë äóáà

Ëþáîâíî îáâèâàåò; ïàëüöû âÿçà

Êîðÿâûå ïëþù æåíñòâåííûé ñæèìàåò.

Êàê ÿ ëþáëþ òåáÿ, êàê îáîæàþ!

Çàñûïàþò.

Âõîäèò Ïýê.

Oberon

[Advancing] Welcome, good Robin.

See’st thou this sweet sight?

Her dotage now I do begin to pity:

For, meeting her of late behind the wood,

Seeking sweet favours from this hateful fool,

I did upbraid her and fall out with her;

For she his hairy temples then had rounded

With a coronet of fresh and fragrant flowers;

And that same dew, which sometime on the buds

Was wont to swell like round and orient pearls,

Stood now within the pretty flowerets’ eyes

Like tears that did their own disgrace bewail.

When I had at my pleasure taunted her

And she in mild terms begg’d my patience,

I then did ask of her her changeling child;

Which straight she gave me, and her fairy sent

To bear him to my bower in fairy land.

And now I have the boy, I will undo

This hateful imperfection of her eyes:

And, gentle Puck, take this transformed scalp

From off the head of this Athenian swain;

That, he awaking when the other do,

May all to Athens back again repair

And think no more of this night’s accidents

But as the fierce vexation of a dream.

But first I will release the fairy queen.

Be as thou wast wont to be;

See as thou wast wont to see:

Dian’s bud o’er Cupid’s flower

Hath such force and blessed power.

Now, my Titania; wake you, my sweet queen.

Îáåðîí

Òû âèäèøü ýòó íåæíóþ êàðòèíó?

Ñòàíîâèòñÿ ìíå æàëü åå áåçóìüÿ.

Íåäàâíî ÿ åå çà ëåñîì âñòðåòèë,

Öâåòû ñáèðàâøåé ãíóñíîìó óðîäó.

ß ñòàë åå ñòûäèòü è óïðåêàòü,

×òî ãîëîâó êîñìàòóþ åìó

Óêðàñèëà îíà âåíêîì äóøèñòûì;

È òà ðîñà, ÷òî íà öâåòàõ îáû÷íî

Ñâåòëåé âîñòî÷íûõ æåì÷óãîâ ñâåðêàåò,

Òåïåðü ñòîÿëà ó öâåòîâ â ãëàçàõ,

Êàê ñëåçû îá èõ ñîáñòâåííîì ïîçîðå.

Êîãäà æ íàä íåé ÿ âäîâîëü íàñìåÿëñÿ,

Îíà ïðîùåíüÿ êðîòêî ïîïðîñèëà,

È ÿ òîãäà ïîòðåáîâàë ðåáåíêà.

Îíà ñåé÷àñ æå óñòóïèëà, ýëüôîâ

Ïîñëàëà îòâåñòè åãî êî ìíå.

Òåïåðü îí ìîé, è ÿ õî÷ó ïðîãíàòü

Î÷åé åå ïóñòîå çàáëóæäåíüå.

Òû òîæå ýòî óêðàøåíüå, Ïýê,

Ñíèìè ñ áàøêè àôèíñêîãî áðîäÿãè.

Ïóñòü îí ïðîñíåòñÿ âìåñòå ñ îñòàëüíûìè,

 Àôèíû âìåñòå ñ íèìè âîçâðàòèòñÿ

È ïðèêëþ÷åíüÿ ýòîé íî÷è âñïîìíèò

Ëèøü êàê íåëåïóþ ïðîäåëêó ñíà.

Íî ðàíüøå ÿ öàðèöó ðàñêîëäóþ.

Äîòðàãèâàåòñÿ äî åå ãëàç âîëøåáíûì öâåòêîì.

Áóäü òû ïðåæíåé ñ ýòèõ ïîð:

Ïóñòü êàê ðàíüøå âèäèò âçîð.

Ïðîãîíè, öâåòîê Äèàíû,

Êóïèäîíà âñå îáìàíû!

Òèòàíèÿ! Ïðîñíèñü, ìîÿ öàðèöà!

Titania

My Oberon! what visions have I seen!

Methought I was enamour’d of an ass.

Òèòàíèÿ

Ìîé Îáåðîí! ×òî ìîæåò íàì ïðèñíèòüñÿ!

Ìíå ñíèëîñü, ÷òî âëþáèëàñü ÿ â îñëà!

Oberon

There lies your love.

Îáåðîí

Âîò ìèëûé òâîé.

Titania

How came these things to pass?

O, how mine eyes do loathe his visage now!

Òèòàíèÿ

Òàê ïðàâäà? ß áûëà…

Î, íà íåãî òåïåðü ãëÿäåòü ìíå ñòðàøíî.

TITANIA

ic, ho! music, such as charmeth sleep! Òèòàíèÿ

Ýé, ìóçûêó, ÷òîá ñîí íàêîëäîâàòü!

Music, still Òèõàÿ ìóçûêà. Puck

Now, when thou wakest, with thine

own fool’s eyes peep.

Ïýê

Ïðîñíóâøèñü, ñòàíåøü äóðàêîì îïÿòü.

Oberon

Sound, music! Come, my queen, take hands with me,

And rock the ground whereon these sleepers be.

Now thou and I are new in amity,

And will to-morrow midnight solemnly

Dance in Duke Theseus’ house triumphantly,

And bless it to all fair prosperity:

There shall the pairs of faithful lovers be

Wedded, with Theseus, all in jollity.

Îáåðîí

Ëåòèòå, çâóêè! Ìû æ ñ òîáîé âäâîåì

Ñâîåþ ïëÿñêîé çåìëþ âñêîëûõíåì.

Îòíûíå ìû ñ òîáîþ â äðóæáå, ôåÿ,

È çàâòðà â ïîëíî÷ü âî äâîðöå Òåçåÿ

Òîðæåñòâåííóþ ïëÿñêó ïîâåäåì,

Áëàãîñëîâèì ñîþç åãî è äîì.

Âëþáëåííûõ ýòèõ òóò æå, âìåñòå ñ íèì,

Ìû â ðàäîñòíûé ñîþç ñîåäèíèì.

Puck

Fairy king, attend, and mark:

I do hear the morning lark.

Ïýê

Òèøå… Ñëûøèøü, Îáåðîí,

 íåáå æàâîðîíêà çâîí?

Oberon

Then, my queen, in silence sad,

Trip we after the night’s shade:

We the globe can compass soon,

Swifter than the wandering moon.

Îáåðîí

Òèòàíèè

Äàé æå ðóêó! Óëåòèì

Ìîë÷à ñ ñóìðàêîì íî÷íûì

È ìãíîâåííî îïîÿøåì

Øàð çåìíîé â ïîëåòå íàøåì.

Titania

Come, my lord, and in our flight

Tell me how it came this night

That I sleeping here was found

With these mortals on the ground.

Exeunt

Horns winded within

Enter Theseus, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train

Òèòàíèÿ

Äà, ëåòèì! Î ìîé ñóïðóã,

Òû ðàññêàæåøü, êàê ñëó÷èëîñü,

×òî çàñíóëà ÿ è âäðóã

Ìåæäó ñìåðòíûõ î÷óòèëàñü.

Óëåòàþò.

Çâóêè ðîãîâ.

Âõîäÿò Òåçåé, Èïïîëèòà, Ýãåé è ñâèòà.

Theseus

Go, one of you, find out the forester;

For now our observation is perform’d;

And since we have the vaward of the day,

My love shall hear the music of my hounds.

Uncouple in the western valley; let them go:

Dispatch, I say, and find the forester.

Exit an Attendant

We will, fair queen, up to the mountain’s top,

And mark the musical confusion

Of hounds and echo in conjunction.

Òåçåé

Ïóñòü êòî-íèáóäü ëåñíè÷åãî íàéäåò.

Çàêîí÷åíû âñå ìàéñêèå îáðÿäû,

È òàê êàê ìû îïåðåäèëè äåíü, –

Ìîãó ïåðåä âîçëþáëåííîé ïîõâàñòàòü

ß ìóçûêîþ ãîí÷èõ. – Âñåõ ñïóñòèòå

Ñî ñâîðû â çàïàäíîé äîëèíå! Æèâî!

Íà ãîðíóþ âåðøèíó ìû âçîéäåì.

Îòòóäà ìû ñ ìîåé öàðèöåé áóäåì

Âíèìàòü ñëèÿíüþ ýõà ñ çâîíêèì ëàåì.

Hippolyta

I was with Hercules and Cadmus once,

When in a wood of Crete they bay’d the bear

With hounds of Sparta: never did I hear

Such gallant chiding: for, besides the groves,

The skies, the fountains, every region near

Seem’d all one mutual cry: I never heard

So musical a discord, such sweet thunder.

Èïïîëèòà

 ëåñàõ íà Êðèòå êàê-òî ñ Ãåðêóëåñîì

È ñ Êàäìîì çàòðàâèëè ìû ìåäâåäÿ

Ñïàðòàíñêèìè ñîáàêàìè. ß â æèçíè

Ïðåêðàñíåé íå ñëûõàëà íè÷åãî:

Âñå – íåáî, ãîðû, ëåñ êðóãîì – ñëèëîñü

 ñïëîøíîé ìîãó÷èé øóì, – ÿ íå ñëûõàëà

Ðàçëàäà ìóçûêàëüíåé, ãðîìà – ñëàùå.

Theseus

My hounds are bred out of the Spartan kind,

So flew’d, so sanded, and their heads are hung

With ears that sweep away the morning dew;

Crook-knee’d, and dew-lapp’d like Thessalian bulls;

Slow in pursuit, but match’d in mouth like bells,

Each under each. A cry more tuneable

Was never holla’d to, nor cheer’d with horn,

In Crete, in Sparta, nor in Thessaly:

Judge when you hear. But, soft! what nymphs are these?

Òåçåé

À ïñû ìîè ñïàðòàíñêîé âåäü ïîðîäû;

Ïî ÷åëþñòÿì, ïî ìàñòè èõ óçíàåøü.

Ñ ïîäãðóäêàìè îíè, êàê ó áûêîâ,

Íåáûñòðûé áåã, íî ãîëîñîâ ïîäáîð –

×òî êîëîêîëüíûé çâîí. Ñòðîéíåå ñâîðàì

Íå óëþëþêàëè, ðîãà íå ïåëè

Íè â Ñïàðòå, íè â Ôåññàëèè, íèãäå.

Ñóäè ñàìà! Íî ÷òî ýòî çà íèìôû?

Egeus

My lord, this is my daughter here asleep;

And this, Lysander; this Demetrius is;

This Helena, old Nedar’s Helena:

I wonder of their being here together.

Ýãåé

ß âèæó – äî÷ü, ìîé ãîñóäàðü, ñïèò êðåïêî.

À âîò Ëèçàíäð. À ðÿäîì çäåñü Äåìåòðèé.

À âîò Åëåíà, äî÷ü Íåäàðà-ñòàðöà.

Çà÷åì îíè âñå âìåñòå çäåñü ñîøëèñü?

Theseus

No doubt they rose up early to observe

The rite of May, and hearing our intent,

Came here in grace our solemnity.

But speak, Egeus; is not this the day

That Hermia should give answer of her choice?

Òåçåé

Îáðÿäû ìàéñêèå ñâåðøàëè, âåðíî,

È, çíàÿ, ÷òî ìû ÿâèìñÿ ñþäà,

Îñòàëèñü çäåñü äîæäàòüñÿ òîðæåñòâà.

Íî, äðóã Ýãåé, ñêàæè ìíå, íå ñåãîäíÿ ëü

Ñâîé âûáîð ñäåëàòü Ãåðìèÿ äîëæíà?

Egeus

It is, my lord.

Ýãåé

Äà, ãîñóäàðü.

Theseus

Go, bid the huntsmen wake them with their horns.

Horns and shout within. LYSANDER, DEMETRIUS, HELENA, and HERMIA wake and start up

Good morrow, friends. Saint Valentine is past:

Begin these wood-birds but to couple now?

Òåçåé

Ïóñêàé æå èõ ðàçáóäÿò

Îõîòíèêè èãðîþ íà ðîãàõ.

Çâóêè ðîãîâ è êðèêè çà ñöåíîé.

Ëèçàíäð, Ãåðìèÿ, Äåìåòðèé è Åëåíà ïðîñûïàþòñÿ.

Äðóçüÿ, âåäü Âàëåíòèíîâ äåíü ïðîøåë,

À ïòàøêè òîëüêî íà÷àëè ñëåòàòüñÿ.

Lysander

Pardon, my lord.

Ëèçàíäð

Ïðîñòèòå, ãîñóäàðü!

Âñå îïóñêàþòñÿ íà êîëåíè.

Theseus

I pray you all, stand up.

I know you two are rival enemies:

How comes this gentle concord in the world,

That hatred is so far from jealousy,

To sleep by hate, and fear no enmity?

Òåçåé

Ïðîøó âàñ, âñòàíüòå.

ß çíàþ, âû ñîïåðíèêè â ëþáâè:

×òî æ ýòî çà ñîãëàñüå ñòàëî â ìèðå,

×òî íåíàâèñòü ñïèò ñ íåíàâèñòüþ ðÿäîì

È íå áîèòñÿ çëîáû è âðàæäû?

Lysander

My lord, I shall reply amazedly,

Half sleep, half waking: but as yet, I swear,

I cannot truly say how I came here;

But, as I think,–for truly would I speak,

And now do I bethink me, so it is,–

I came with Hermia hither: our intent

Was to be gone from Athens, where we might,

Without the peril of the Athenian law.

Ëèçàíäð

ß, ãîñóäàðü, íå çíàþ, ÷òî îòâåòèòü;

Âî ñíå èëü íàÿâó ÿ – ñàì íå çíàþ;

È êàê ñþäà ïîïàë – íå çíàþ òîæå.

Íî êàæåòñÿ… ñêàçàòü áû òîëüêî ïðàâäó…

Íåò, íåò, âîò êàê âñå ýòî áûëî, – âñïîìíèë:

Ìû ñ Ãåðìèåé ïðèøëè ñþäà; ðåøèëè

Ìû èç Àôèí áåæàòü òóäà, ãäå á ìîæíî,

Àôèíñêîãî çàêîíà íå áîÿñü…

Egeus

Enough, enough, my lord; you have enough:

I beg the law, the law, upon his head.

They would have stolen away; they would, Demetrius,

Thereby to have defeated you and me,

You of your wife and me of my consent,

Of my consent that she should be your wife.

Ýãåé

Äîâîëüíî, ãîñóäàðü, äîâîëüíî ñ âàñ.

Çàêîí, çàêîí íà ãîëîâó åãî!

Îíè áåæàëè! – Äà, îíè õîòåëè,

Äåìåòðèé, íàñ îáîèõ îáìàíóòü:

Òåáÿ – ëèøèòü æåíû, ìåíÿ æå – ïðàâà

Òåáå â ñóïðóãè Ãåðìèþ îòäàòü.

Demetrius

My lord, fair Helen told me of their stealth,

Of this their purpose hither to this wood;

And I in fury hither follow’d them,

Fair Helena in fancy following me.

But, my good lord, I wot not by what power,–

But by some power it is,–my love to Hermia,

Melted as the snow, seems to me now

As the remembrance of an idle gaud

Which in my childhood I did dote upon;

And all the faith, the virtue of my heart,

The object and the pleasure of mine eye,

Is only Helena. To her, my lord,

Was I betroth’d ere I saw Hermia:

But, like in sickness, did I loathe this food;

But, as in health, come to my natural taste,

Now I do wish it, love it, long for it,

And will for evermore be true to it.

Äåìåòðèé

Ìîé ãîñóäàðü, ïðåêðàñíàÿ Åëåíà

Îòêðûëà ìíå èõ çàìûñåë. Âçáåøåííûé,

Çà íèìè ÿ ïîãíàëñÿ â ýòîò ëåñ.

Åëåíà æ èç ëþáâè ïîøëà çà ìíîþ.

È òóò… ÿ ñàì íå çíàþ, ãîñóäàðü,

×üÿ âëàñòü, íî – íåñîìíåííî, ÷üÿ-òî âëàñòü –

Çàñòàâèëà ëþáîâü ìîþ ðàñòàÿòü.

Îíà ìíå êàæåòñÿ ïóñòîé èãðóøêîé,

Êîòîðóþ â äíè äåòñòâà ÿ ëþáèë.

Ñòðàñòü, öåëü è ðàäîñòü ãëàç ìîèõ òåïåðü –

Íå Ãåðìèÿ, à ìèëàÿ Åëåíà.

Îäíà Åëåíà! Ñ íåé ÿ áûë ïîìîëâëåí,

Êîãäà åùå ÿ Ãåðìèè íå çíàë.

Íî êàê â áîëåçíè íåíàâèäÿò ïèùó,

 çäîðîâüå æ âîçâðàùàåòñÿ ê íåé âêóñ,

Òåïåðü åå ëþáëþ, õî÷ó, æåëàþ

È åé îñòàíóñü âåðåí ÿ âñþ æèçíü!

Theseus

Fair lovers, you are fortunately met:

Of this discourse we more will hear anon.

Egeus, I will overbear your will;

For in the temple by and by with us

These couples shall eternally be knit:

And, for the morning now is something worn,

Our purposed hunting shall be set aside.

Away with us to Athens; three and three,

We’ll hold a feast in great solemnity.

Come, Hippolyta.

Exeunt Theseus, HIPPOLYTA, EGEUS, and train

Òåçåé

Âëþáëåííûå, ÿ â äîáðûé ÷àñ âàñ âñòðåòèë;

Îá ýòîì ìû åùå ïîãîâîðèì.

Ýãåé, òåáå ïðèäåòñÿ óñòóïèòü.

Ñåãîäíÿ æ â õðàìå äâå ÷åòû âëþáëåííûõ

Ñîåäèíÿòñÿ, êàê è ìû, íàâåêè.

Íî óòðî äàëåêî óøëî âïåðåä,

À ïîòîìó îòëîæèì ìû îõîòó.

Ñêîðåå âñå â Àôèíû! Íàñ òðè ïàðû:

Òîðæåñòâåííî òðè ñâàäüáû ñïðàâèì òàì.

Ïîéäåì æå, Èïïîëèòà!

Òåçåé, Èïïîëèòà, Ýãåé è ñâèòà óõîäÿò.

Demetrius

These things seem small and undistinguishable,

Äåìåòðèé

Âñå êàæåòñÿ ìíå ìàëûì è íåÿñíûì,

Êàê áóäòî ãîðû â òó÷è ðàñïëûëèñü.

Hermia

Methinks I see these things with parted eye,

When every thing seems double.

Ãåðìèÿ

ß òî÷íî âèæó ðàçíûìè ãëàçàìè,

Êîãäà äâîèòñÿ âñå.

Helena

So methinks:

And I have found Demetrius like a jewel,

Mine own, and not mine own.

Åëåíà

ß òî÷íî òàê æå.

Êàê áóäòî äðàãîöåííîñòü, ÿ íàøëà

Äåìåòðèÿ; îí – ìîé, è îí – íå ìîé.

Demetrius

Are you sure

That we are awake? It seems to me

That yet we sleep, we dream. Do not you think

The duke was here, and bid us follow him?

Äåìåòðèé

Ìíå êàæåòñÿ, ìû ñïèì è âèäèì ñíû.

Áûë ãåðöîã çäåñü? Âåëåë èäòè çà íèì?

Hermia

Yea; and my father.

Ãåðìèÿ

È ìîé îòåö áûë çäåñü.

Helena

And Hippolyta.

Åëåíà

È Èïïîëèòà.

Lysander

And he did bid us follow to the temple.

Ëèçàíäð

È ãåðöîã â õðàì çà íèì ïðèéòè âåëåë.

Demetrius

Why, then, we are awake: let’s follow him

And by the way let us recount our dreams.

Exeunt

Äåìåòðèé

Òàê, çíà÷èò, ìû íå ñïèì. Ïîéäåì ñêîðåå;

Äîðîãîþ ðàññêàæåì íàøè ñíû.

Óõîäÿò.

Bottom

[Awaking] When my cue comes, call me, and I will answer: my next is, ‘Most fair Pyramus.’ Heigh-ho! Peter Quince! Flute, the bellows-mender! Snout, the tinker! Starveling! God’s my life, stolen hence, and left me asleep! I have had a most rare vision. I have had a dream, past the wit of man to say what dream it was: man is but an ass, if he go about to expound this dream. Methought I was–there is no man can tell what. Methought I was,–and methought I had,–but man is but a patched fool, if he will offer to say what methought I had. The eye of man hath not heard, the ear of man hath not seen, man’s hand is not able to taste, his tongue to conceive, nor his heart to report, what my dream was. I will get Peter Quince to write a ballad of this dream: it shall be called Bottom’s Dream, because it hath no bottom; and I will sing it in the latter end of a play, before the duke: peradventure, to make it the more gracious, I shall sing it at her death.

Exit

Îñíîâà

ïðîñûïàÿñü

Êîãäà áóäåò ìîÿ ðåïëèêà, âû ìåíÿ òîëüêî êëèêíèòå – è ÿ òóò êàê òóò. Ñëåäóþùàÿ ìîÿ ðåïëèêà: “Ïðåêðàñíåéøèé Ïèðàì!” Ýé, Ïèòåð Ïèãâà! Äóäêà, ïî÷èíùèê ìåõîâ! Ðûëî, ìåäíèê! Çàìîðûø! Ãîñïîäè ïîìèëóé! Óäðàëè, îñòàâèëè ìåíÿ òóò ñïàòü îäíîãî. Íó è ÷óäíîé æå ìíå ñîí ïðèñíèëñÿ! Òàêîé ñîí ìíå ïðèñíèëñÿ, ÷òî íå õâàòèò óìà ÷åëîâå÷åñêîãî îáúÿñíèòü åãî! Îñëîì áóäåò òîò, êòî ñòàíåò ðàññêàçûâàòü ýòîò ñîí. Ìíå ñíèëîñü, ÷òî ÿ áûë… ÷òî ó ìåíÿ áûëà… Êðóãëûì äóðàêîì áóäåò òîò, êòî âçäóìàåò ñêàçàòü, ÷òî ó ìåíÿ áûëî. Ãëàç ÷åëîâå÷åñêèé íå ñëûõàë, óõî ÷åëîâå÷åñêîå íå âèäàëî, ðóêà ÷åëîâå÷åñêàÿ íå îñèëèëà, ñåðäöå áû ëîïíóëî, åñëè áû ðàññêàçàòü, êàêîé ìíå ñîí ñíèëñÿ. ß çàñòàâëþ Ïèãâó íàïèñàòü áàëëàäó ïðî ýòîò ñîí; îíà áóäåò íàçûâàòüñÿ: “Ñîí Îñíîâû” ïîòîìó ÷òî â íåé íåò íèêàêîé îñíîâû. È ÿ åå ñïîþ â êîíöå ïüåñû ïåðåä ãåðöîãîì. Äàæå âîò ÷òî: ÷òîáû âûøëî ïîëþáåçíåå, ñïîþ åå âî âðåìÿ Ôèñáèíîé ñìåðòè. Óõîäèò.

Enter QUINCE, FLUTE, SNOUT, and STARVELING Àôèíû. Êîìíàòà â äîìå Ïèãâû. Âõîäÿò Ïèãâà, Äóäêà, Ðûëî è Çàìîðûø. Quince

Have you sent to Bottom’s house? is he come home yet?

Ïèãâà

Íó ÷òî, ïîñûëàëè ê Îñíîâå? Âåðíóëñÿ îí äîìîé

Starveling

He cannot be heard of. Out of doubt he is transported.

Çàìîðûø

Î íåì íè÷åãî íå ñëûøíî: íå èíà÷å êàê åãî óíåñëà íå÷èñòàÿ ñèëà.

Flute

If he come not, then the play is marred: it goes not forward, doth it?

Äóäêà

Åñëè îí íå âåðíåòñÿ, ïðîïàëà íàøà ïüåñà: íè÷åãî íå âûéäåò.

Quince

It is not possible: you have not a man in all Athens able to discharge Pyramus but he.

Ïèãâà

Äà, áåç íåãî èãðàòü íåëüçÿ. Âî âñåõ Àôèíàõ íàéòè ÷åëîâåêà, ïîäõîäÿùåãî äëÿ Ïèðàìà.

Flute

No, he hath simply the best wit of any handicraft man in Athens.

Äóäêà

Íå íàéòè! Èçî âñåõ àôèíñêèõ ðåìåñëåííèêîâ ó Îñíîâû ñàìàÿ óìíàÿ ãîëîâà.

Quince

Yea and the best person too; and he is a very paramour for a sweet voice.

Ïèãâà

È ê òîìó æå îí ó íàñ ñàìûé êðàñèâûé. À óæ ïî ãîëîñó òàê íàñòîÿùèé ëþáîâíèê.

Flute

You must say ‘paragon:’ a paramour is, God bless us, a thing of naught.

Enter SNUG

Äóäêà

Êàêîå íåïðèñòîéíîå ñëîâå – “ëþáîâíèê”! Ñêàæè ëó÷øå: “ëþáèòåëü”.

Âõîäèò Ìèëÿãà.

Snyg

Masters, the duke is coming from the temple, and there is two or three lords and ladies more married: if our sport had gone forward, we had all been made men.

Ìèëÿãà

Äðóçüÿ, ãåðöîã âîçâðàòèëñÿ èç õðàìà; òàì ñ íèì çàîäíî îáâåí÷àëè äâóõ èëè òðåõ äàì è êàâàëåðîâ. Îõ, êàáû íàøà ïüåñà ïîøëà, ìû áû âñå ëþäüìè ñòàëè.

Flute

O sweet bully Bottom! Thus hath he lost sixpence a day during his life; he could not have ‘scaped sixpence a day: an the duke had not given him sixpence a day for playing Pyramus, I’ll be hanged; he would have deserved it: sixpence a day in Pyramus, or nothing.

Enter BOTTOM

Äóäêà

Àõ, ìèëûé íàø óäàëåö Îñíîâà! Ïîòåðÿë îí øåñòü ïåíñîâ â äåíü íà âñþ æèçíü. Íå ìèíîâàòü áû åìó øåñòè ïåíñîâ â äåíü ïîæèçíåííî: ïóñòü áû ìåíÿ ïîâåñèëè, åñëè 6û ãåðöîã íå íàçíà÷èë åìó øåñòè ïåíñîâ â äåíü. Øåñòü ïåíñîâ – è íèêàêèõ!

Âõîäèò Îñíîâà.

Bottom

Where are these lads? where are these hearts?

Îñíîâà

Ãäå îíè, ìîè ìîëîä÷èêè? Ãäå îíè, ìîè ñåðäå÷íûå äðóæêè?

Quince

Bottom! O most courageous day! O most happy hour!

Ïèãâà

Îñíîâà! Âîò áëàãîñëîâåííûé äåíü, âîò ñ÷àñòëèâûé ÷àñ!

Bottom

Masters, I am to discourse wonders: but ask me not what; for if I tell you, I am no true Athenian. I will tell you every thing, right as it fell out.

Îñíîâà

Íó, êóìàíüêè, è åñòü æå ó ìåíÿ ÷òî ïåðåñêàçàòü âàì. ×óäåñà! Íî íå ñïðàøèâàéòå ìåíÿ íè î ÷åì. Íå áóäü ÷åñòíûé àôèíÿíèí, åñëè ÿ íå ðàññêàæó âàì, ÷òî ñî ìíîé áûëî. ß âàì âñå äî òî÷íîñòè ðàññêàæó, êàê ÷òî ñëó÷èëîñü.

Quince

Let us hear, sweet Bottom.

Ïèãâà

Ðàññêàçûâàé, ðàññêàçûâàé, äðàãîöåííûé Îñíîâà!

Bottom

Not a word of me. All that I will tell you is, that the duke hath dined. Get your apparel together, good strings to your beards, new ribbons to your pumps; meet presently at the palace; every man look o’er his part; for the short and the long is, our play is preferred. In any case, let Thisby have clean linen; and let not him that plays the lion pair his nails, for they shall hang out for the lion’s claws. And, most dear actors, eat no onions nor garlic, for we are to utter sweet breath; and I do not doubt but to hear them say, it is a sweet comedy. No more words: away! go, away!

Îñíîâà

Íè ñëîâà îáî ìíå. Âñå, ÷òî ÿ âàì ïîêà ñêàæó, – ýòî âîò ÷òî: ãåðöîã óæå îòîáåäàë. Ñîáèðàéòå âàøè ïîæèòêè. Ïðèâÿæèòå íîâûå øíóðêè ê áîðîäàì è íîâûå áàíòû ê òóôëÿì. Áåëåíî íàì âñåì ñîéòèñü ó äâîðöà. Êàæäûé ïðîñìîòðè õîðîøåíüêî ñâîþ ðîëü. Êîðî÷å ñêàçàòü, íàøà ïüåñà âûáðàíà. Âî âñÿêîì ñëó÷àå, Ôèñáà ïóñòü íàäåíåò ÷èñòîå áåëüå, à Ëåâ ÷òîáû íå âçäóìàë îáðåçàòü íîãòè: îíè äîëæíû âûãëÿäûâàòü èç-ïîä ëüâèíîé øêóðû, êàê êîãòè. À ãëàâíîå, äîðîãèå ìîè àêòåðû, íå åøüòå íè ëóêó, íè ÷åñíîêó. Ìû äîëæíû èñïóñêàòü ñëàäîñòíîå áëàãîóõàíüå, è ÿ íå ñîìíåâàþñü, ÷òî çðèòåëè ñêàæóò: âîò ñëàä÷àéøàÿ ïüåñà. Áåç âñÿêèõ ðàññóæäåíèé! Ìàðø âïåðåä áåç äàëüíèõ ñëîâ!

Exeunt Óõîäÿò.