TEMPO, o Coro
LEONTES, o Rei Anfitrião
CAMILLO, um siciliano (súdito do anfitrião, depois do Rei da Boêmia, depois outra vez do rei siciliano!)
ARCHIDAMUS, um boêmio
ANTIGONUS, um siciliano, um dos primeiros da côrte de Leontes
jovem príncipe MAMILLIUS da Sicília, filho de Leontes, trágica criança!
POLIXENES, Rei da Boêmia, amigo de infância de Leontes
HERMIONE, (por algum tempo) Rainha da S.
PAULINA, uma confidente da Rainha, esposa de Antigonus
CLEOMENES, siciliano a serviço do oráculo (1)
DION, siciliano a serviço do oráculo (2)
PERDITA, a princesa desgraçada do reino da Sicília, seu nome a descreve bem
PASTOR boêmio, pai adotivo de Perdita
PALHAÇO, filho do Pastor
príncipe FLORIZEL, filho de Polixenes, apaixonado perditamente
AUTOLYCUS, ladrão astuto
MOPSA, o par romântico do Palhaço
DORCAS, humilde serva do Pastor
* * *
“If the king had no son, they would desire to live on crutches [muletas, andador] till he had one.”
You shall not go: a lady’s ‘Verily’ ‘s
As potent as a lord’s. Will you go yet?
Force me to keep you as a prisoner,
Not like a guest; so you shall pay your fees
When you depart, and save your thanks. How say you?
My prisoner? or my guest? by your dread ‘Verily,’
One of them you shall be.”
“LEONTES, papai coruja
Looking on the lines
Of my boy’s face, methoughts I did recoil
Twenty-three years, and saw myself unbreech’d,
In my green velvet coat, my dagger muzzled,
Lest it should bite its master, and so prove,
As ornaments oft do, too dangerous:
How like, methought, I then was to this kernel,
This squash, this gentleman.”
“Go, play, boy, play: thy mother plays, and I
Play too, but so disgraced a part, whose issue
Will hiss me to my grave: contempt and clamour
Will be my knell. Go, play, boy, play.”
Estou pescando agora, embora não percebam!
Uma pesca delirante
E os convivas são os peixes
Stays here longer.
Ay, but why?
To satisfy your highness and the entreaties
Of our most gracious mistress.
The entreaties of your mistress! satisfy!
Let that suffice.”
“Enquanto aqui falo, neste exato momento
Muitos e muitos homens devem estar a segurar
sua mulherzinha nos braços;
E nem desconfiam que ela escorreu de suas mãos
na sua ausência,
E seu peixão foi fisgado pelo vizinho ao lado,
pelo Senhor Sorriso, seu vizinho: ah, isto é
até um consolo: Ver que não só comigo,
Mas os portões de outros abriram contra
sua vontade. Se todos os homens desesperassem
da fidelidade de suas esposas, um décimo da humanidade
se mataria enforcada. Médico pra isso não há!
É um mundo obsceno, que mais se mostra
Onde é predominante; e forte é essa obscenidade
De leste a oeste, de norte a sul:
Não há muralhas para uma barriga!
O inimigo poderá transitar a bel-prazer
Com mala e sacola: aos milhares, se pensarmos
Que tantos têm a doença, mas não sentem os sintomas.”
“Viver em sussurros não é nada?
Beijinho na bochecha? Encontro de narizes?
Mandar beijo às escondidas? Parar de repente no ar
a gargalhada, e encerrâ-la num suspiro?–sinal infalível
de falta de honestidade—cavalgar lado a lado?
Trombadelas em esquinas escuras ao acaso?
Desejar que as horas passassem mais devagar?
Cada hora, cada minuto, nele se deliciar?
Estar desperta e lúcida tanto ao meio-dia
quanto à meia-noite? Todos cegos a essa agulha
diminuta e essas teias invisíveis que eles tecem,
mancomunados como estão? É seu ninho de amor,
essa teia-de-aranha! Isso tudo não é nada?
Porque se for, o mundo e tudo nele não é nada;
O azul do céu nada é; Boêmia não está de pé;
Minha esposa não existe; nada têm esses nadas,
Se isso é nada!”
“Se seu fígado estivesse comprometido como está sua integridade, ela não teria mais um dia de vida!”
“Um pajem vê mais do quarto de sua ama do que da terra vê do céu um deus;
ah tu, mordomo e garçom, que trazes e levas os copos,
por que é que tu não trazes uma bebida especial para aquele ali,
um boa-noite cinderela para toda a eternidade,
um afogamento que me deixaria realizado?”
I will seem friendly, as thou hast advised me.
Forsake the court: to do’t, or no, is certain
To me a break-neck. Happy star, reign now!
Here comes Bohemia.
The king hath on him such a countenance
As he had lost some province and a region
Loved as he loves himself: even now I met him
With customary compliment; when he,
Wafting his eyes to the contrary and falling
A lip of much contempt, speeds from me and
So leaves me to consider what is breeding
That changeth thus his manners.
I dare not know, my lord.”
“Você não ousa saber ou não sabe?
O que você sabe, você sabe,
não tem que ousar ou não.”
Your changed complexions are to me a mirror
Which shows me mine changed too; for I must be
A party in this alteration, finding
Myself thus alter’d with ‘t.”
A sickness caught of me, and yet I well!
What incidency thou dost guess of harm
Is creeping toward me; how far off, how near;
Which way to be prevented, if to be;
If not, how best to bear it.”
Minha reputação agora fede até para coveiros!
“I am sure ‘tis safer to
Avoid what’s grown than question how ‘tis born.”
“Decerto é mais seguro evitar o que se tornou ameaçador do que descobrir como se tornou.”
Is for a precious creature: as she’s rare,
Must it be great, and as his person’s mighty,
Must it be violent, and as he does conceive
He is dishonour’d by a man which ever
Profess’d to him, why, his revenges must
In that be made more bitter. Fear o’ershades me:
Good expedition be my friend, and comfort
The gracious queen, part of his theme”
A sad tale’s best for winter: I have one
Of sprites and goblins.”
“All’s true that is mistrusted”
“I have said
She’s an adulteress; I have said with whom:
More, she’s a traitor and Camillo is
A federary with her”
“every inch of woman in the world, ay, every dram of woman’s flesh is false, If she be.”
Be she honour-flaw’d,
I have three daughters; the eldest is eleven
The second and the third, nine, and some five;
If this prove true, they’ll pay for’t:
by mine honour,
I’ll geld ‘em all; fourteen they shall not see,
To bring false generations: they are co-heirs;
And I had rather glib myself than they
Should not produce fair issue.”
Though I am satisfied and need no more
Than what I know, yet shall the oracle
Give rest to the minds of others, such as he
Whose ignorant credulity will not
Come up to the truth. So have we thought it good
From our free person she should be confined,
Lest that the treachery of the two fled hence
Be left her to perform.”
She is something before her time deliver’d.
A daughter, and a goodly babe,
Lusty and like to live: the queen receives
Much comfort in’t; says <My poor prisoner,
I am innocent as you.>”
“We do not know
How he may soften at the sight o’ the child:
The silence often of pure innocence
Persuades when speaking fails.”
“I am as ignorant in that as you
In so entitling me, and no less honest
Than you are mad; which is enough, I’ll warrant,
As this world goes, to pass for honest.”
“The root of his opinion, which is rotten
As ever oak or stone was sound.”
“It is an heretic that makes the fire,
Not she which burns in’t. I’ll not call you tyrant;
But this most cruel usage of your queen,
Not able to produce more accusation
Than your own weak-hinged fancy, something savours
Of tyranny and will ignoble make you,
Yea, scandalous to the world.”
Eu não sou tirano! E para prová-la, lançá-la-ei à fogueira!
“Shall I live on to see this bastard kneel
And call me father? better burn it now
Than curse it then. But be it; let it live.
It shall not neither. “
“We enjoin thee,
As thou art liege-man to us, that thou carry
This female bastard hence and that thou bear it
To some remote and desert place quite out
Of our dominions, and that there thou leave it,
Without more mercy, to its own protection
And favour of the climate. As by strange fortune
It came to us, I do in justice charge thee,
On thy soul’s peril and thy body’s torture,
That thou commend it strangely to some place
Where chance may nurse or end it. Take it up.”
Your actions are my dreams;
You had a bastard by Polixenes,
And I but dream’d it.”
You here shall swear upon this sword of justice,
That you, Cleomenes and Dion, have
Been both at Delphos, and from thence have brought
The seal’d-up oracle, by the hand deliver’d
Of great Apollo’s priest; and that, since then,
You have not dared to break the holy seal
Nor read the secrets in’t.”
[Reads] Hermione is chaste;
Polixenes blameless; Camillo a true subject; Leontes
a jealous tyrant; his innocent babe truly begotten;
and the king shall live without an heir, if that
which is lost be not found.
Now blessed be the great Apollo!
Hast thou read truth?
Ay, my lord; even so
As it is here set down.
There is no truth at all i’ the oracle:
The sessions shall proceed: this is mere falsehood.”
My great profaneness ‘gainst thine oracle!
I’ll reconcile me to Polixenes,
New woo my queen, recall the good Camillo,
Whom I proclaim a man of truth, of mercy;
For, being transported by my jealousies
To bloody thoughts and to revenge, I chose
Camillo for the minister to poison
My friend Polixenes: which had been done,
But that the good mind of Camillo tardied
My swift command, though I with death and with
Reward did threaten and encourage him,
Not doing ‘t and being done: he, most humane
And fill’d with honour, to my kingly guest
Unclasp’d my practise, quit his fortunes here,
Which you knew great, and to the hazard
Of all encertainties himself commended,
No richer than his honour: how he glisters
Thorough my rust! and how his pity
Does my deeds make the blacker!”
(…) O lords,
When I have said, cry ‘woe!’ the queen, the queen,
The sweet’st, dear’st creature’s dead,
and vengeance for’t
Not dropp’d down yet.”
“But, O thou tyrant!
Do not repent these things, for they are heavier
Than all thy woes can stir; therefore betake thee
To nothing but despair. A thousand knees
Ten thousand years together, naked, fasting,
Upon a barren mountain and still winter
In storm perpetual, could not move the gods
To look that way thou wert.”
for the babe
Is counted lost for ever, Perdita,
I prithee, call’t.”
Quisera não haver idade entre 16 e 23,
ou que a juventude passasse esses 7 malditos
anos dormindo. Não há nada entre um extremo
e outro, deste intervalo suntuoso, a não ser
barrigas de bebê, anciãos ludibriados, roubos,
combates—Ah, quisera que enxergassem!
Se ao menos um desses cérebros de geléia e paçoca,
de 19 e 22 anos, não saísse para caçar nesse tempo ruinoso?
Estes descerebrados espantaram duas das minhas
melhores ovelhas, que, temo, serão primeiro achadas
pelo lobo que pelo mestre: creio que o único lugar
em que vivas ainda podem estar, seria no litoral,
à procura de hera.
Ó! Zeus meu, se não é uma grande fortuna o que
vejo agora com meus olhos! É uma manjedoura,
e há algo ali, bela manjedoura é! Ó!
Menino, menina? Enrolado, enrolada em trapos.
Ó, linda menina!”
“when you do dance, I wish you a wave o’ the sea, that you might ever do nothing but that”
“I am put to sea
With her whom here I cannot hold on shore;
And most opportune to our need I have
A vessel rides fast by, but not prepared
For this design. What course I mean to hold
Shall nothing benefit your knowledge, nor
Concern me the reporting.”
If your more ponderous and settled project
May suffer alteration, on mine honour,
I’ll point you where you shall have such receiving
As shall become your highness; where you may
Enjoy your mistress, from the whom, I see,
There’s no disjunction to be made, but by–
As heavens forefend!–your ruin; marry her,
And, with my best endeavours in your absence,
Your discontenting father strive to qualify
And bring him up to liking.”
“FLORIZEL and AUTOLYCUS exchange garments
Fortunate mistress,–let my prophecy
Come home to ye!–you must retire yourself
Into some covert: take your sweetheart’s hat
And pluck it o’er your brows, muffle your face,
Dismantle you, and, as you can, disliken
The truth of your own seeming; that you may–
For I do fear eyes over–to shipboard
“What an exchange had this been without boot! What
a boot is here with this exchange! Sure the gods do
this year connive at us, and we may do any thing
extempore. The prince himself is about a piece of
iniquity, stealing away from his father with his
clog at his heels: if I thought it were a piece of
honesty to acquaint the king withal, I would not
do’t: I hold it the more knavery to conceal it;
and therein am I constant to my profession.”
She being none of your flesh and blood, your flesh
and blood has not offended the king; and so your
flesh and blood is not to be punished by him. Show
those things you found about her, those secret
things, all but what she has with her: this being
done, let the law go whistle: I warrant you.”
[Aside] Though I am not naturally honest, I am so
sometimes by chance: let me pocket up my pedlar’s excrement.
Takes off his false beard
How now, rustics! whither are you bound?
To the palace, an it like your worship.”
We are but plain fellows, sir.
A lie; you are rough and hairy. Let me have no
lying: it becomes none but tradesmen, and they
often give us soldiers the lie: but we pay them for
it with stamped coin, not stabbing steel; therefore
they do not give us the lie.”
Somos apenas seus humildes e simples servos, senhor.
Mentira; vocês são rústicos e cheios de pêlos emaranhados. Não mintam:
Todo aquele que mente vira um comerciante, e o comerciante
Vende ao soldado a mentira: mas pagamos com moeda-falsa,
Nada de aço ou espada! É por isso, meu amigo, que não nos vendem
How blessed are we that are not simple men!
Yet nature might have made me as these are,
Therefore I will not disdain.
This cannot be but a great courtier.
His garments are rich, but he wears
them not handsomely.
He seems to be the more noble in being fantastical:
a great man, I’ll warrant; I know by the picking
If I had a mind to be honest, I see Fortune would not suffer me: she drops booties in my mouth. I am courted now with a double occasion, gold and a means to do the prince my master good; which who knows how that may turn back to my advancement? I will bring these two moles, these blind ones, aboard him: if he think it fit to shore them again and that the complaint they have to the king concerns him nothing, let him call me rogue for being so far officious; for I am proof against that title and what shame else belongs to’t. To him will I present them: there may be matter in it.”
True, too true, my lord:
If, one by one, you wedded all the world,
Or from the all that are took something good,
To make a perfect woman, she you kill’d
Would be unparallel’d.
I think so. Kill’d!
She I kill’d! I did so: but thou strikest me
Sorely, to say I did; it is as bitter
Upon thy tongue as in my thought: now, good now,
Say so but seldom.
Not at all, good lady:
You might have spoken a thousand things that would
Have done the time more benefit and graced
Your kindness better.
You are one of those
Would have him wed again.
If you would not so,
You pity not the state, nor the remembrance
Of his most sovereign name; consider little
What dangers, by his highness’ fail of issue,
May drop upon his kingdom and devour
Incertain lookers on. What were more holy
Than to rejoice the former queen is well?
What holier than, for royalty’s repair,
For present comfort and for future good,
To bless the bed of majesty again
With a sweet fellow to’t?
There is none worthy,
Respecting her that’s gone. Besides, the gods
Will have fulfill’d their secret purposes;
For has not the divine Apollo said,
Is’t not the tenor of his oracle,
That King Leontes shall not have an heir
Till his lost child be found? which that it shall,
Is all as monstrous to our human reason
As my Antigonus to break his grave
And come again to me; who, on my life,
Did perish with the infant. ‘Tis your counsel
My lord should to the heavens be contrary,
Oppose against their wills.
Care not for issue;
The crown will find an heir: great Alexander
Left his to the worthiest; so his successor
Was like to be the best.”
And all eyes else dead coals! Fear thou no wife;
I’ll have no wife, Paulina.”
As every present time doth boast itself
Above a better gone, so must thy grave
Give way to what’s seen now! Sir, you yourself
Have said and writ so, but your writing now
Is colder than that theme, ‘She had not been,
Nor was not to be equall’d;’–thus your verse
Flow’d with her beauty once:’’tis shrewdly ebb’d,
To say you have seen a better.”
“Your mother was most true to wedlock, prince;
For she did print your royal father off,
Conceiving you: were I but twenty-one,
Your father’s image is so hit in you,
His very air, that I should call you brother,
As I did him, and speak of something wildly
By us perform’d before. Most dearly welcome!
And your fair princess,–goddess!–O, alas!
I lost a couple, that ‘twixt heaven and earth
Might thus have stood begetting wonder as
You, gracious couple, do: and then I lost–
All mine own folly–the society,
Amity too, of your brave father, whom,
Though bearing misery, I desire my life
Once more to look on him.”
Good my lord,
She came from Libya.
Where the warlike Smalus,
That noble honour’d lord, is fear’d and loved?”
Bohemia greets you from himself by me;
Desires you to attach his son, who has–
His dignity and duty both cast off–
Fled from his father, from his hopes, and with
A shepherd’s daughter.”
Camillo has betray’d me;
Whose honour and whose honesty till now
Endured all weathers.”
You are married?
We are not, sir, nor are we like to be;
The stars, I see, will kiss the valleys first:
The odds for high and low’s alike.”
Nothing but bonfires: the oracle is fulfilled; the king’s daughter is found: such a deal of wonder is
broken out within this hour that ballad-makers cannot be able to express it.”
“The mantle of Queen Hermione’s, her jewel about the neck of it, the letters of Antigonus found with it which they know to be his character, the majesty of the creature in resemblance of the mother, the affection of nobleness which nature shows above her breeding, and many other evidences proclaim her with all certainty to be the king’s daughter.”
No: the princess hearing of her mother’s statue, which is in the keeping of Paulina,–a piece many years in doing and now newly performed by that rare Italian master, Julio Romano, who, had he himself eternity and could put breath into his work, would beguile Nature of her custom, so perfectly he is her ape: he so near to Hermione hath done Hermione that they say one would speak to her and stand in hope of answer: thither with all greediness of affection are they gone, and there they intend to sup.”
Enter Shepherd and Clown
Here come those I have done good to against my will,
and already appearing in the blossoms of their fortune.”
So you have: but I was a gentleman born before my father; for the king’s son took me by the hand, and called me brother; and then the two kings called my father brother; and then the prince my brother and the princess my sister called my father father; and so we wept, and there was the first gentleman-like tears that ever we shed.
We may live, son, to shed many more.
Ay; or else ‘twere hard luck, being in so preposterous estate as we are.
I humbly beseech you, sir, to pardon me all the faults I have committed to your worship and to give
me your good report to the prince my master.
Prithee, son, do; for we must be gentle, now we are gentlemen.
Thou wilt amend thy life?
Ay, an it like your good worship.
Give me thy hand: I will swear to the prince thou art as honest a true fellow as any is in Bohemia.
You may say it, but not swear it.
Not swear it, now I am a gentleman? Let boors and franklins say it, I’ll swear it.
How if it be false, son?
If it be ne’er so false, a true gentleman may swear it in the behalf of his friend: and I’ll swear to the prince thou art a tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt not be drunk; but I know thou art no tall fellow of thy hands and that thou wilt be drunk: but I’ll swear it, and I would thou wouldst be a tall fellow of thy hands.
I will prove so, sir, to my power.”
Uma estátua que emula a vida melhor que o sono emula a morte.
As she lived peerless,
So her dead likeness, I do well believe,
Excels whatever yet you look’d upon
Or hand of man hath done; therefore I keep it
Lonely, apart. But here it is: prepare
To see the life as lively mock’d as ever
Still sleep mock’d death: behold, and say ‘tis well.”
(…) But yet, Paulina,
Hermione was not so much wrinkled, nothing
So aged as this seems.
O, not by much.
So much the more our carver’s excellence;
Which lets go by some sixteen years and makes her
As she lived now.”
“I am ashamed: does not the stone rebuke me
For being more stone than it? O royal piece,
There’s magic in thy majesty, which has
My evils conjured to remembrance and
From thy admiring daughter took the spirits,
Standing like stone with thee.”
My lord, your sorrow was too sore laid on,
Which 16 winters cannot blow away,
So many summers dry; scarce any joy
Did ever so long live; no sorrow
But kill’d itself much sooner.”
“No settled senses of the world can match the pleasure of that madness.”
Nenhum sentido deste mundo, por mais apurado, pode igualar as delícias desta loucura.
“Let no man mock me,
For I will kiss her.
Good my lord, forbear:
The ruddiness upon her lip is wet;
You’ll mar it if you kiss it, stain your own
With oily painting. Shall I draw the curtain?
No, not these twenty years.
So long could I
Stand by, a looker on.”
Music, awake her; strike!
‘Tis time; descend; be stone no more; approach;
Strike all that look upon with marvel. Come,
I’ll fill your grave up: stir, nay, come away,
Bequeath to death your numbness, for from him
Dear life redeems you. You perceive she stirs:
HERMIONE comes down
Start not; her actions shall be holy as
You hear my spell is lawful: do not shun her
Until you see her die again; for then
You kill her double. Nay, present your hand:
When she was young you woo’d her; now in age
Is she become the suitor?
O, she’s warm!
If this be magic, let it be an art
Lawful as eating.
She embraces him.
She hangs about his neck:
If she pertain to life let her speak too.
Ay, and make’t manifest where she has lived,
Or how stolen from the dead.”
“Turn, good lady;
Our Perdita is found.
You gods, look down
And from your sacred vials pour your graces
Upon my daughter’s head! Tell me, mine own.
Where hast thou been preserved? where lived? how found
Thy father’s court? for thou shalt hear that I,
Knowing by Paulina that the oracle
Gave hope thou wast in being, have preserved
Myself to see the issue.”
(…) I, an old turtle,
Will wing me to some wither’d bough and there
My mate, that’s never to be found again,
Lament till I am lost.”
(…) Come, Camillo,
And take her by the hand, whose worth and honesty
Is richly noted and here justified
By us, a pair of kings.”