OTHELLO Soft you; a word or two before you go. I have done the state some service, and they know’t. No more of that. I pray you, in your letters, When you shall these unlucky deeds relate, Speak of me as I am; nothing extenuate, Nor set down aught in malice. Then must you speak Of one that loved not wisely but too well; Of one not easily jealous, but, being wrought, Perplex’d in the extreme; of one whose hand, Like the base Indian, threw a pearl away Richer than all his tribe; of one whose subdued eyes, Albeit unused to the melting mood, Drop tears as fast as the Arabian trees Their medicinal gum. Set you down this; And say besides, that in Aleppo once, Where a malignant and a turban’d Turk Beat a Venetian and traduced the state, I took by the throat the circumcised dog And smote him, thus. (Stabs himself.)
LODOVICO O bloody period!
GRATIANO All that’s spoke is marr’d.
OTHELLO I kiss’d thee ere I kill’d thee. No way but this, Killing myself, to die upon a kiss. (Falls on the bed, and dies.)
Ακούστε τον Patrick Wymarck, στον ρόλο του Βρούτου, να μεταστρέφει, με επιχειρήματα, τους εχθρικά διακείμενους Ρωμαίους πολίτες, και να τούς πείθει ότι ο φόνος του Καίσαρα ήταν αναγκαίος, και ότι οι δράστες είναι σωτήρες της Πατρίδος. Ακούστε στην συνέχεια τον Peter Finch, στον ρόλο του Μάρκου Αντώνιου, να ανα-μεταστρέφει, με συναισθηματικές εκκλήσεις και παροχές, τους άρτι μεταστραφέντες Ρωμαίους πολίτες, και να τούς πείθει ότι ο φόνος του Καίσαρα ήταν στυγερό έγκλημα, και ότι οι δράστες είναι εχθροί της Πατρίδος.
Διάρκεια: 12.20 Πηγή: Julius Caesar, The Living Shakespeare Series (1LP) Condensed Performance, directed by Dennis Vance
Julius Caesar, Act III, Sc. II
The Forum. Enter Brutus and Cassius, and a throng of Citizens.
CITIZENS We will be satisfied! Let us be satisfied!
BRUTUS Then follow me and give me audience, friends. And public reasons shall be rendered Of Caesar’s death.
CITIZEN The noble Brutus is ascended. Silence!
BRUTUS Be patient till the last. Romans, countrymen, and lovers! Hear me for my cause, and be silent, that you may hear. If there be any in this assembly, any dear friend of Caesar’s, To him I say that Brutus’ love to Caesar was no less than his. If then that friend demand why Brutus rose against Caesar, This is my answer: Not that I loved Caesar less, but that I loved Rome more. Had you rather that Caesar were living and die all slaves, Than that Caesar were dead to live all freemen? As Caesar loved me, I weep for him; As he was fortunate, I rejoice at it; As he was valiant, I honour him; But as he was ambitious, I slew him. There is tears for his love, joy for his fortune, Honour for his valour, and death for his ambition. Who is here so base that would be a bondman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so rude that would not be a Roman? If any, speak, for him have I offended. Who is here so vile that will not love his country? If any, speak, for him have I offended. I pause for a reply.
ALL None, Brutus, none.
BRUTUS Then none have I offended. Enter Antony and others, with Caesar’s body. Here comes his body, mourned by Mark Antony, who, though he Had no hand in his death, shall receive the benefit of his dying, A place in the commonwealth, as which of you shall not? With this I depart- that, as I slew my best lover for the good of Rome, I have the same dagger for myself, when it shall please my country to need my death.
ALL Live, Brutus, live, live!
CITIZEN Peace! Silence! Peace, ho!
BRUTUS Good countrymen, let me depart alone, And, for my sake, stay here with Antony. Do grace to Caesar’s corse, and grace his speech Tending to Caesar’s glories, which Mark Antony, By our permission, is allow’d to make. I do entreat you, not a man depart, Save I alone, till Antony have spoke. Exit.
CITIZEN Peace! Let us hear what Antony can say.
ANTONY You gentle Romans-
ALL Peace, ho! Let us hear him.
ANTONY Friends, Romans, countrymen, lend me your ears! I come to bury Caesar, not to praise him. The evil that men do lives after them, The good is oft interred with their bones; So let it be with Caesar. The noble Brutus Hath told you Caesar was ambitious; If it were so, it was a grievous fault, And grievously hath Caesar answer’d it. Here, under leave of Brutus and the rest- For Brutus is an honourable man; So are they all, all honourable men- Come I to speak in Caesar’s funeral. He was my friend, faithful and just to me; But Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man. He hath brought many captives home to Rome, Whose ransoms did the general coffers fill. Did this in Caesar seem ambitious? When that the poor have cried, Caesar hath wept; Ambition should be made of sterner stuff: Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And Brutus is an honourable man. You all did see that on the Lupercal I thrice presented him a kingly crown, Which he did thrice refuse. Was this ambition? Yet Brutus says he was ambitious, And sure he is an honourable man. I speak not to disprove what Brutus spoke, But here I am to speak what I do know. You all did love him once, not without cause; What cause withholds you then to mourn for him? O judgement, thou art fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason. Bear with me; My heart is in the coffin there with Caesar, And I must pause till it come back to me.
CITIZEN There’s not a nobler man in Rome than Antony.
CITIZEN Now mark him, he begins again to speak.
ANTONY But yesterday the word of Caesar might Have stood against the world. Now lies he there, And none so poor to do him reverence. O masters! If I were disposed to stir Your hearts and minds to mutiny and rage, I should do Brutus wrong and Cassius wrong, Who, you all know, are honourable men. I will not do them wrong; I rather choose To wrong the dead, to wrong myself and you, Than I will wrong such honourable men. But here’s a parchment with the seal of Caesar; I found it in his closet, ‘tis his will. Let but the commons hear this testament- Which, pardon me, I do not mean to read- And they would go and kiss dead Caesar’s wounds And dip their napkins in his sacred blood, Yea, beg a hair of him for memory, And, dying, mention it within their wills, Bequeathing it as a rich legacy Unto their issue.
CITIZEN We’ll hear the will. Read it, Mark Antony.
ALL The will, the will! We will hear Caesar’s will.
ANTONY Have patience, gentle friends, I must not read it; It is not meet you know how Caesar loved you. You are not wood, you are not stones, but men; And, being men, hearing the will of Caesar, It will inflame you, it will make you mad. ‘Tis good you know not that you are his heirs, For if you should, O, what would come of it!
CITIZEN Read the will; we’ll hear it, Antony. You shall read us the will, Caesar’s will.
ANTONY Will you be patient? Will you stay awhile? I have o’ershot myself to tell you of it. I fear I wrong the honourable men Whose daggers have stabb’d Caesar; I do fear it.
ALL The will!
ANTONY You will compel me then to read the will? Then make a ring about the corse of Caesar, And let me show you him that made the will. Shall I descend? And will you give me leave?
ALL Come down.
CITIZEN Room for Antony, most noble Antony.
ANTONY Nay, press not so upon me, stand far off.
ALL Stand back; room, bear back!
ANTONY If you have tears, prepare to shed them now. You all do know this mantle. I remember The first time ever Caesar put it on; ‘Twas on a summer’s evening, in his tent, That day he overcame the Nervii. Look, in this place ran Cassius’ dagger through; See what a rent the envious Casca made; Through this the well-beloved Brutus stabb’d; And as he pluck’d his cursed steel away, Mark how the blood of Caesar follow’d it, As rushing out of doors, to be resolved If Brutus so unkindly knock’d, or no; For Brutus, as you know, was Caesar’s angel. Judge, O you gods, how dearly Caesar loved him! This was the most unkindest cut of all; For when the noble Caesar saw him stab, Ingratitude, more strong than traitors’ arms, Quite vanquish’d him. Then burst his mighty heart, And, in his mantle muffling up his face, Even at the base of Pompey’s statue, Which all the while ran blood, great Caesar fell. O, what a fall was there, my countrymen! Then I, and you, and all of us fell down, Whilst bloody treason flourish’d over us. O, now you weep, and I perceive you feel The dint of pity. These are gracious drops. Kind souls, what weep you when you but behold Our Caesar’s vesture wounded? Look you here, Here is himself, marr’d, as you see, with traitors.
CITIZEN We will be revenged.
ALL Revenge! About! Seek! Burn! Fire! Kill! Slay! Let not a traitor live!
ANTONY Stay, countrymen.
CITIZEN Peace there! Hear the noble Antony.
SECOND CITIZEN We’ll hear him, we’ll follow him, we’ll die with him.
ANTONY Good friends, sweet friends, let me not stir you up To such a sudden flood of mutiny. They that have done this deed are honourable. What private griefs they have, alas, I know not, That made them do it. They are wise and honourable, And will, no doubt, with reasons answer you. I come not, friends, to steal away your hearts. I am no orator, as Brutus is; But, as you know me all, a plain blunt man, That love my friend, and that they knew full well That gave me public leave to speak of him. For I have neither wit, nor words, nor worth, Action, nor utterance, nor the power of speech, To stir men’s blood. I only speak right on; I tell you that which you yourselves do know; Show you sweet Caesar’s wounds, poor, poor dumb mouths, And bid them speak for me. But were I Brutus, And Brutus Antony, there were an Antony Would ruffle up your spirits and put a tongue In every wound of Caesar that should move The stones of Rome to rise and mutiny.
ALL We’ll mutiny.
CITIZEN We’ll burn the house of Brutus.
CITIZEN Away, then! Come, seek the conspirators.
ANTONY Yet hear me, countrymen; yet hear me speak.
ALL Peace, ho! Hear Antony, most noble Antony!
ANTONY Why, friends, you go to do you know not what. Wherein hath Caesar thus deserved your loves? Alas, you know not; I must tell you then. You have forgot the will I told you of.
ALL Most true, the will! Let’s stay and hear the will.
ANTONY Here is the will, and under Caesar’s seal. To every Roman citizen he gives, To every several man, seventy-five drachmas.
CITIZEN Most noble Caesar! We’ll revenge his death.
CITIZEN O royal Caesar!
ANTONY Hear me with patience.
ALL Peace, ho!
ANTONY Moreover, he hath left you all his walks, His private arbors, and new-planted orchards, On this side Tiber; he hath left them you, And to your heirs forever- common pleasures, To walk abroad and recreate yourselves. Here was a Caesar! When comes such another?
CITIZEN Never, never. Come, away, away! We’ll burn his body in the holy place And with the brands fire the traitors’ houses. Take up the body.
CITIZEN Go fetch fire.
CITIZEN. Pluck down benches.
CITIZEN Pluck down forms, windows, anything. Exeunt Citizens with the body.
Υ.Γ. Ο Filboid Studge διατυπώνει εγκαίρως το προφανές πολιτικό συμπέρασμα: ούτε Βρούτος, ούτε Αντώνιος. Σπάρτακος!!!
MACBETH She should have died hereafter; There would have been a time for such a word. Tomorrow, and tomorrow, and tomorrow Creeps in this petty pace from day to day To the last syllable of recorded time; And all our yesterdays have lighted fools The way to dusty death. Out, out, brief candle! Life's but a walking shadow, a poor player That struts and frets his hour upon the stage And then is heard no more. It is a tale Told by an idiot, full of sound and fury, Signifying nothing.
Γιάννης Ψυχοπαίδης, Κορίτσι σε Μπλε Φόντο – Μεταξοτυπία, 2003
Ο Sting ερμηνεύει (σε αγγλική απόδοση) το Σονέτο Νο. 27 από τα «Εκατό ερωτικά σονέτα» (1959) του Pablo Neruda (1904-1973)
Ακούστε τον:
Πηγή: Poems by Pablo Neruda – Il Postino (1CD)
Love Sonnet XXVII – Morning
Naked you are simple as one of your hands, smooth, earthly, small, transparent, round, your moon-lines, apple-pathways, naked you are slender as a naked grain of wheat.
Naked you are blue as a night in Cuba, you have vines and stars in your hair, naked you are spacious and yellow, summer in a golden church.
Naked you are tiny as one of your nails, curved, subtle, rosy, till the day is born, and you withdraw to the underground world
as if down a long tunnel of clothing and of chores: your clear light dims, gets dressed, drops its leaves and becomes a naked hand again.
Ο Filboid Studge σημειώνει: Δεν μού είναι γνωστό το όνομα του μεταφραστού.
SONETO XXVII - Mañana
Desnuda eres tan simple como una de tus manos, lisa, terrestre, mínima, redonda, transparente, tienes líneas de luna, caminos de manzana, desnuda eres delgada como el trigo desnudo.
Desnuda eres azul como la noche en Cuba, tienes enredaderas y estrellas en el pelo, desnuda eres enorme y amarilla como el verano en una iglesia de oro.
Desnuda eres pequeña como una de tus uñas, curva, sutil, rosada hasta que nace el día y te metes en el subterráneo del mundo
como en un largo túnel de trajes y trabajos: tu claridad se apaga, se viste, se deshoja y otra vez vuelve a ser una mano desnuda.
Διαβάστε και την απόδοση στα ελληνικά του Γιώργου Κεντρωτή στο Αλωνάκι της Ποίησης.
