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Классная книга. Очень многое объясняет, что скрытое реально происходит в человеке
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Charles Di Tocca: A Tragedy
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Год написания книги
2017
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Charles: Myself am but a hulk
Whose treasures have already been engulfed.
Fulvia: Yet shrink from it!
Charles: A son, a friend, a – No,
She was not mine! – I will not turn.
Fulvia: It is
Your fury that distorts us into guilt.
Although he will not render up his heart,
But flings you stony and unfilial speech,
Fearing for her —
Charles: Leave!
Fulvia: We —
Charles: Thrice have I said it!
Fulvia: Yet must I not until your will is wasted.
Charles (angrily): Ah!
(Fulvia sighs then goes slowly.)
Charles: Cecco!
Cecco: My lord?
Charles: The hour?
Cecco (going to window): It leans to sunset.
Charles: The sky – the sky?
Cecco: A murk moves slowly up.
Charles (wearily): There should be storm – gloating of wind and grind
Of hopeless thunders. Lightnings should laugh out
As tongues of fiends. There should be storm.
(His head sinks on his breast.)
(Suddenly.) Yet! – yet! —
Cecco: My lord?
Charles: The glow and glory of her seem
Dead in me!
Cecco: Of – the Greek?
Charles: And yearning has
Grown impotent – as 'twere a moment's folly,
A left and quickly quenched desire of youth
Kindled in me! – To youth alone love's sudden.
Cecco: Sir, dare I speak?
Charles: Speak.
Cecco: When Antonio —
Charles: Cease: but a whisper of his name and I
Am frenzy – frenzy – though the stillness burns
And bursts with it!
(Cecco steps back. A pause.)
Charles: The sun, how hangs it now?
Cecco (going to window): Above the bloody waving of the sea,
Eager to dip.
Charles (staggering up): Ah, I was in a foam —
Bitten by hounds of fury and despair!
Did you not, Fulvia, pleading for them say
They quailed but would not flee and leave me waste?
Cecco: She is not here, my liege.
Charles: Antonio!
Ah, boy! thou ever wast to me as wafts
Of light, of song, of summer on the hills!
Soft now I feel thy baby arms about me,
And all the burgeon of thy youth, ere proud
And cruel years grew in me, comes again
On wings and stealing winds of memory!
Cecco: O, then, sir —
Charles: Yes. Fly, fly! and stay the guard!
He must not – Ah! – down fearful fathoms, down
Into the roar!
(Cecco starts. He stops him.)
Yet he has flung me from
Immeasurable peaks, and I have sunk
Forevermore beneath hope's horizon.
Who falls so close the grave can rise no more.
Другие электронные книги автора Cale Rice
Последний отзыв
Классная книга. Очень многое объясняет, что скрытое реально происходит в человеке