Poems

Автор

William Butler Yeats

Жанр

Зарубежная классика

Год написания книги

2017

<< 1 ... 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 >>

На страницу:

Перейти

20 из 22

Настройки чтения

Размер шрифта

Высота строк

Поля

ANOTHER PEASANT

I will not trust my mother after this.

FIRST MERCHANT

There is this crack in you – two hundred crowns.

A PEASANT

That's plenty for a rogue.

ANOTHER PEASANT

I'd give him nothing.

SHEMUS

You'll get no more – so take what's offered you.

(A general murmur, during which the MIDDLE-AGED MAN takes money, and slips into background, where he sinks on to a seat.)

FIRST MERCHANT

Has no one got a better soul than that?
If only for the credit of your parishes,
Traffic with us.

A WOMAN

What will you give for mine?

FIRST MERCHANT (reading in book)

"Soft, handsome, and still young" – not much, I think.
"It's certain that the man she's married to
Knows nothing of what's hidden in the jar
Between the hour-glass and the pepper-pot."

THE WOMAN

The scandalous book.

FIRST MERCHANT

"Nor how when he's away
At the horse fair the hand that wrote what's hid
Will tap three times upon the window-pane."

THE WOMAN

And if there is a letter, that is no reason
Why I should have less money than the others.

FIRST MERCHANT

You're almost safe, I give you fifty crowns.

(She turns to go.)

A hundred, then.

SHEMUS

Woman, have sense – come, come.
Is this a time to haggle at the price?
There, take it up. There, there. That's right.

(She takes them and goes into the crowd.)

FIRST MERCHANT

Come, deal, deal, deal. It is but for charity
We buy such souls at all; a thousand sins
Made them our Master's long before we came.

(ALEEL enters.)

ALEEL

Here, take my soul, for I am tired of it.
I do not ask a price.

SHEMUS

Not ask a price?
How can you sell your soul without a price?
I would not listen to his broken wits;
His love for Countess Cathleen has so crazed him
He hardly understands what he is saying.

ALEEL

The trouble that has come on Countess Cathleen,
The sorrow that is in her wasted face,
The burden in her eyes, have broke my wits,
And yet I know I'd have you take my soul.

FIRST MERCHANT