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Read online books Drama in English at worldlibraryebooks.comIn literature a drama genre deserves your attention. Dramas are usually called plays. Every person is made up of two parts: good and evil. Due to life circumstances, the human reveals one or another side of his nature. In drama we can see the full range of emotions : it can be love, jealousy, hatred, fear, etc. The best drama books are full of dialogue. This type of drama is one of the oldest forms of storytelling and has existed almost since the beginning of humanity. Drama genre - these are events that involve a lot of people. People most often suffer in this genre, because they are selfish. People always think to themselves first, they want have a benefit.


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All problems are in our heads. We want to be pitied. Every single person sooner or later experiences their own personal drama, which can leave its mark on him in his later life and forces him to perform sometimes unexpected actions. Sometimes another person can become the subject of drama for a person, whom he loves or fears, then the relationship of these people may be unexpected. Exactly in drama books we are watching their future fate.
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Read books online » Drama » The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (book suggestions TXT) 📖

Book online «The Complete Works of William Shakespeare by William Shakespeare (book suggestions TXT) 📖». Author William Shakespeare



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she ravish’d? Tell who did the deed.

TITUS. Will’t please you eat? Will’t please your Highness feed?

TAMORA. Why hast thou slain thine only daughter thus?

TITUS. Not I; ‘twas Chiron and Demetrius.

They ravish’d her, and cut away her tongue; And they, ‘twas they, that did her all this wrong.

SATURNINUS. Go, fetch them hither to us presently.

TITUS. Why, there they are, both baked in this pie, Whereof their mother daintily hath fed, Eating the flesh that she herself hath bred.

‘Tis true, ‘tis true: witness my knife’s sharp point.

[He stabs the EMPRESS]

SATURNINUS. Die, frantic wretch, for this accursed deed!

[He stabs TITUS]

LUCIUS. Can the son’s eye behold his father bleed?

There’s meed for meed, death for a deadly deed.

[He stabs SATURNINUS. A great tumult. LUCIUS, MARCUS, and their friends go up into the balcony]

MARCUS. You sad-fac’d men, people and sons of Rome, By uproars sever’d, as a flight of fowl Scatter’d by winds and high tempestuous gusts?

O, let me teach you how to knit again This scattered corn into one mutual sheaf, These broken limbs again into one body; Lest Rome herself be bane unto herself, And she whom mighty kingdoms curtsy to, Like a forlorn and desperate castaway, Do shameful execution on herself.

But if my frosty signs and chaps of age, Grave witnesses of true experience,

Cannot induce you to attend my words, [To Lucius] Speak, Rome’s dear friend, as erst our ancestor, When with his solemn tongue he did discourse To love-sick Dido’s sad attending ear The story of that baleful burning night, When subtle Greeks surpris’d King Priam’s Troy.

Tell us what Sinon hath bewitch’d our ears, Or who hath brought the fatal engine in That gives our Troy, our Rome, the civil wound.

My heart is not compact of flint nor steel; Nor can I utter all our bitter grief, But floods of tears will drown my oratory And break my utt’rance, even in the time When it should move ye to attend me most, And force you to commiseration.

Here’s Rome’s young Captain, let him tell the tale; While I stand by and weep to hear him speak.

LUCIUS. Then, gracious auditory, be it known to you That Chiron and the damn’d Demetrius

Were they that murd’red our Emperor’s brother; And they it were that ravished our sister.

For their fell faults our brothers were beheaded, Our father’s tears despis’d, and basely cozen’d Of that true hand that fought Rome’s quarrel out And sent her enemies unto the grave.

Lastly, myself unkindly banished,

The gates shut on me, and turn’d weeping out, To beg relief among Rome’s enemies;

Who drown’d their enmity in my true tears, And op’d their arms to embrace me as a friend.

I am the turned forth, be it known to you, That have preserv’d her welfare in my blood And from her bosom took the enemy’s point, Sheathing the steel in my advent’rous body.

Alas! you know I am no vaunter, I;

My scars can witness, dumb although they are, That my report is just and full of truth.

But, soft! methinks I do digress too much, Citing my worthless praise. O, pardon me!

For when no friends are by, men praise themselves.

MARCUS. Now is my turn to speak. Behold the child.

[Pointing to the CHILD in an attendant’s arms]

Of this was Tamora delivered,

The issue of an irreligious Moor,

Chief architect and plotter of these woes.

The villain is alive in Titus’ house, Damn’d as he is, to witness this is true.

Now judge what cause had Titus to revenge These wrongs unspeakable, past patience, Or more than any living man could bear.

Now have you heard the truth: what say you, Romans?

Have we done aught amiss, show us wherein, And, from the place where you behold us pleading, The poor remainder of Andronici

Will, hand in hand, all headlong hurl ourselves, And on the ragged stones beat forth our souls, And make a mutual closure of our house.

Speak, Romans, speak; and if you say we shall, Lo, hand in hand, Lucius and I will fall.

AEMILIUS. Come, come, thou reverend man of Rome, And bring our Emperor gently in thy hand, Lucius our Emperor; for well I know

The common voice do cry it shall be so.

ALL. Lucius, all hail, Rome’s royal Emperor!

MARCUS. Go, go into old Titus’ sorrowful house, And hither hale that misbelieving Moor To be adjudg’d some direful slaught’ring death, As punishment for his most wicked life. Exeunt some attendants. LUCIUS, MARCUS, and the others descend ALL. Lucius, all hail, Rome’s gracious governor!

LUCIUS. Thanks, gentle Romans! May I govern so To heal Rome’s harms and wipe away her woe!

But, gentle people, give me aim awhile, For nature puts me to a heavy task.

Stand all aloof; but, uncle, draw you near To shed obsequious tears upon this trunk.

O, take this warm kiss on thy pale cold lips. [Kisses TITUS]

These sorrowful drops upon thy blood-stain’d face, The last true duties of thy noble son!

MARCUS. Tear for tear and loving kiss for kiss Thy brother Marcus tenders on thy lips.

O, were the sum of these that I should pay Countless and infinite, yet would I pay them!

LUCIUS. Come hither, boy; come, come, come, and learn of us To melt in showers. Thy grandsire lov’d thee well; Many a time he danc’d thee on his knee, Sung thee asleep, his loving breast thy pillow; Many a story hath he told to thee,

And bid thee bear his pretty tales in mind And talk of them when he was dead and gone.

MARCUS. How many thousand times hath these poor lips, When they were living, warm’d themselves on thine!

O, now, sweet boy, give them their latest kiss!

Bid him farewell; commit him to the grave; Do them that kindness, and take leave of them.

BOY. O grandsire, grandsire! ev’n with all my heart Would I were dead, so you did live again!

O Lord, I cannot speak to him for weeping; My tears will choke me, if I ope my mouth.

 

Re-enter attendants with AARON

 

A ROMAN. You sad Andronici, have done with woes; Give sentence on the execrable wretch That hath been breeder of these dire events.

LUCIUS. Set him breast-deep in earth, and famish him; There let him stand and rave and cry for food.

If any one relieves or pities him,

For the offence he dies. This is our doom.

Some stay to see him fast’ned in the earth.

AARON. Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?

I am no baby, I, that with base prayers I should repent the evils I have done; Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did Would I perform, if I might have my will.

If one good deed in all my life I did, I do repent it from my very soul.

LUCIUS. Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence, And give him burial in his father’s grave.

My father and Lavinia shall forthwith Be closed in our household’s monument.

As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,

No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed, No mournful bell shall ring her burial; But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey.

Her life was beastly and devoid of pity, And being dead, let birds on her take pity. Exeunt THE END

 

<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM

SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS

PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE

WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE

DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS

PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED

COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY

SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>

 

1602

 

THE HISTORY OF TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

 

by William Shakespeare

 

DRAMATIS PERSONAE

 

PRIAM, King of Troy

 

His sons:

HECTOR

TROILUS

PARIS

DEIPHOBUS

HELENUS

 

MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam

 

Trojan commanders:

AENEAS

ANTENOR

 

CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida

AGAMEMNON, the Greek general

MENELAUS, his brother

 

Greek commanders:

ACHILLES

AJAX

ULYSSES

NESTOR

DIOMEDES

PATROCLUS

 

THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Greek ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida

SERVANT to Troilus

SERVANT to Paris

SERVANT to Diomedes

 

HELEN, wife to Menelaus

ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector

CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam, a prophetess CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas

 

Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants SCENE:

Troy and the Greek camp before it PROLOGUE

TROILUS AND CRESSIDA

PROLOGUE

In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf’d, Have to the port of Athens sent their ships Fraught with the ministers and instruments Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore Their crownets regal from th’ Athenian bay Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures The ravish’d Helen, Menelaus’ queen,

With wanton Paris sleeps-and that’s the quarrel.

To Tenedos they come,

And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge Their warlike fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch Their brave pavilions: Priam’s six-gated city, Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien, And Antenorides, with massy staples

And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts, Sperr up the sons of Troy.

Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits On one and other side, Troyan and Greek, Sets all on hazard-and hither am I come A Prologue arm’d, but not in confidence Of author’s pen or actor’s voice, but suited In like conditions as our argument,

To tell you, fair beholders, that our play Leaps o’er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils, Beginning in the middle; starting thence away, To what may be digested in a play.

Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are; Now good or bad, ‘tis but the chance of war.

 

<<THIS ELECTRONIC VERSION OF THE COMPLETE WORKS OF WILLIAM

SHAKESPEARE IS COPYRIGHT 1990-1993 BY WORLD LIBRARY, INC., AND IS

PROVIDED BY PROJECT GUTENBERG ETEXT OF ILLINOIS BENEDICTINE COLLEGE

WITH PERMISSION. ELECTRONIC AND MACHINE READABLE COPIES MAY BE

DISTRIBUTED SO LONG AS SUCH COPIES (1) ARE FOR YOUR OR OTHERS

PERSONAL USE ONLY, AND (2) ARE NOT DISTRIBUTED OR USED

COMMERCIALLY. PROHIBITED COMMERCIAL DISTRIBUTION INCLUDES BY ANY

SERVICE THAT CHARGES FOR DOWNLOAD TIME OR FOR MEMBERSHIP.>>

 

ACT I. SCENE 1.

Troy. Before PRIAM’S palace

 

Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS

 

TROILUS. Call here my varlet; I’ll unarm again.

Why should I war without the walls of Troy That find such cruel battle here within?

Each Troyan that is master of his heart, Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!

PANDARUS. Will this gear ne’er be mended?

TROILUS. The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength, Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant; But I am weaker than a woman’s tear,

Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance, Less valiant than the virgin in the night, And skilless as unpractis’d infancy.

PANDARUS. Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part, I’ll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.

TROILUS. Have I not tarried?

PANDARUS. Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.

TROILUS. Have I not tarried?

PANDARUS. Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.

TROILUS. Still have I tarried.

PANDARUS. Ay, to the leavening; but here’s yet in the word ‘hereafter’ the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too, or you may chance to burn your lips.

TROILUS. Patience herself, what goddess e’er she be, Doth lesser blench at suff’rance than I do.

At Priam’s royal table do I sit;

And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-So,

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