Feb. 9th, 2013

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Буря (IV, 1:146-163) Шекспир. 1623.
Оригинал в оригинальном написании и современном:
Pro. You doe looke (my ſon) in a mou'd ſort,
As if you were diſmaid: be cheerefull Sir,
Our Reuels now are ended: Theſe our aƈtors,
(As I foretold you) were all Spirits, and
Are melted into Ayre, into thin Aire,
And, like the baſeleſſe fabricke of this viſion
The Clowd-capt Towers, the gorgeous Pallaces,
The ſolemne Temples, the great Globe it ſelfe,
Yea, all which it inherit, ſhall diſſolue,
And like this inſubſtantiall Pageant faded
Leaue not a racke behinde: We are ſuch ſtuffe
As dreams are made on; and our little life
Is rounded with a ſleepe:
Sir, I am vext,
Beare with my weakeneſſe, my old braine is troubled:
Be not diſturb'd with my infirmitie,
If you be pleased, retire into my Cell,
And there repoſe, a turne or two, Ile walke
To ſtill my beating minde.

PROSPERO.You do look, my son, in a mov'd sort,
As if you were dismay'd: be cheerful, sir:
Our revels now are ended. These our actors,
As I foretold you, were all spirits and
Are melted into air, into thin air:
And, like the baseless fabric of this vision,
The cloud-capp'd towers, the gorgeous palaces,
The solemn temples, the great globe itself,
Yea, all which it inherit, shall dissolve
And, like this insubstantial pageant faded,
Leave not a rack behind. We are such stuff
As dreams are made on, and our little life
Is rounded with a sleep.
—Sir, I am vex'd:
Bear with my weakness; my old brain is troubled.
Be not disturb'd with my infirmity.
If you be pleas'd, retire into my cell
And there repose: a turn or two I'll walk,
To still my beating mind.

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