The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: 150+ Titles in One Edition. Oscar Wilde

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Название The Complete Works of Oscar Wilde: 150+ Titles in One Edition
Автор произведения Oscar Wilde
Жанр Языкознание
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isbn 9788027237197



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I pray God thou mayest! Have I not strangled whatever nature is in me, and shall I not keep my oath?

      Mich. (Twelve hours! One can overthrow a dynasty in less time than that.to President). Martial law, President! Come, there is no time to be lost. We have twelve hours yet before us till the council meet.

      Pres. Ay! or lose one’s own head.

      (Michael and the President retire to one corner of the stage and sit whispering. Vera takes up the proclamation, and reads it to herself; Alexis watches and suddenly rushes up to her.) Alex. Vera!

      Vera. Alexis, you here! Foolish boy, have I not prayed you to stay away? All of us here are doomed to die before our time, fated to expiate by suffering whatever good we do; but you, with your bright boyish face, you are too young to die yet.

      Alex. One is never too young to die for one’s country!

      Vera. Why do you come here night after night?

      Alex. Because I love the people.

      Vera. But your fellow-students must miss you. Are there no traitors among them? You know what spies there are in the University here. O Alexis, you must go! You see how desperate suffering has made us. There is no room here for a nature like yours. You must not come again.

      Alex. Why do you think so poorly of me? Why should I live while my brothers suffer?

      Vera. You spake to me of your mother once. You said you loved her. Oh, think of her!

      Alex. I have no mother now but Russia, my life is hers to take or give away; but tonight I am here to see you. They tell me you are leaving for Novgorod tomorrow.

      Vera. I must. They are getting faint-hearted there, and I would fan the flame of this revolution into such a blaze that the eyes of all kings in Europe shall be blinded. If martial law is passed they will need me all the more there. There is no limit, it seems, to the tyranny of one man; but there shall be a limit to the suffering of a whole people.

      Alex. God knows it, I am with you. But you must not go. The police are watching every train for you. When you are seized they have orders to place you without trial in the lowest dungeon of the palace. I know it — no matter how. Oh, think how without you the sun goes from our life, how the people will lose their leader and liberty her priestess. Vera, you must not go!

      Vera. If you wish it, I will stay. I would live a little longer for freedom, a little longer for Russia.

      Alex. When you die then Russia is smitten indeed; when you die then I shall lose all hope — all…. Vera, this is fearful news you bring — martial law — it is too terrible. I knew it not, by my soul, I knew it not!

      Vera. How could you have known it? It is too well laid a plot for that. This great White Czar, whose hands are red with the blood of the people he has murdered, whose soul is black with his iniquity, is the cleverest conspirator of us all. Oh, how could Russia bear two hearts like yours and his!

      Alex. Vera, the Emperor was not always like this. There was a time when he loved the people. It is that devil, whom God curse, Prince Paul Maraloffski who has brought him to this. Tomorrow, I swear it, I shall plead for the people to the Emperor.

      Vera. Plead to the Czar! Foolish boy, it is only those who are sentenced to death that ever see our Czar. Besides, what should he care for a voice that pleads for mercy? The cry of a strong nation in its agony has not moved that heart of stone.

      Alex. (aside). Yet shall I plead to him. They can but kill me.

      Prof. Here are the proclamations, Vera. Do you think they will do?

      Vera. I shall read them. How fair he looks? Methinks he never seemed so noble as tonight. Liberty is blessed in having such a lover.

      Alex. Well, President, what are you deep in?

      Mich. We are thinking of the best way of killing bears. (Whispers to President and leads him aside.)

      Prof. (from our brothers at Paris and Berlin. What answer shall we send to them?to Vera). And the letters

      Vera ( I might have loved him. Oh, I am a fool, a traitor myself, a traitor myself! But why did he come amongst us with his bright young face, his heart aflame for liberty, his pure white soul? Why does he make me feel at times as if I would have him as my king, Republican though I be? Oh, fool, fool, fool! False to your oath! weak as water! Have done! Remember what you are — a Nihilist, a Nihilist!takes them mechanically). Had I not strangled nature, sworn neither to love nor be loved, methinks

      Pres. (to Michael). But you will be seized, Michael.

      Mich. I think not. I will wear the uniform of the Imperial Guard, and the Colonel on duty is one of us. It is on the first floor, you remember; so I can take a long shot.

      Pres. Shall I tell the brethren?

      Mich. Not a word, not a word! There is a traitor amongst us.

      Vera. Come, are these the proclamations? Yes, they will do; yes, they will do. Send five hundred to Kiev and Odessa and Novgorod, five hundred to Warsaw, and have twice the number distributed among the Southern Provinces, though these dull Russian peasants care little for our proclamations, and less for our martyrdoms. When the blow is struck, it must be from the town, not from the country.

      Mich. Ay, and by the sword not by the goose-quill.

      Vera. Where are the letters from Poland?

      Prof. Here.

      Vera. Unhappy Poland! The eagles of Russia have fed on her heart. We must not forget our brothers there.

      Pres. Is this true, Michael?

      Mich. Ay, I stake my life on it.

      Pres. Let the doors be locked, then. Alexis Ivanacievitch entered on our roll of the brothers as a Student of the School of Medicine at Moscow. Why did you not tell us of this bloody scheme of martial law?

      Alex. I, President?

      Mich. Ay, you! You knew it, none better. Such weapons as these are not forged in a day. Why did you not tell us of it? A week ago there had been time to lay the mine, to raise the barricade, to strike one blow at least for liberty. But now the hour is past. It is too late, it is too late! Why did you keep it a secret from us, I say?

      Alex. Now by the hand of freedom, Michael, my brother, you wrong me. I knew nothing of this hideous law. By my soul, my brothers, I knew not of it! How should I know?

      Mich. Because you are a traitor! Where did you go when you left us the night of our last meeting here?

      Alex. To mine own house, Michael.

      Mich. Liar! I was on your track. You left here an hour after midnight. Wrapped in a large cloak, you crossed the river in a boat a mile below the second bridge, and gave the ferryman a gold piece, you, the poor student of medicine! You doubled back twice, and hid in an archway so long that I had almost made up my mind to stab you at once, only that I am fond of hunting. So! you thought that you had baffled all pursuit, did you? Fool! I am a bloodhound that never loses the scent. I followed you from street to street. At last I saw you pass swiftly across the Place St. Isaac, whisper to the guards the secret password, enter the palace by a private door with your own key.

      Conspirators. The palace!

      Vera. Alexis!

      Mich. I waited. All through the dreary watches of our long Russian night I waited, that I might kill you with your Judas hire still hot in your hand. But you never came out; you never left that palace at all. I saw the blood-red sun rise through the yellow fog over the murky town; I saw a new day of oppression dawn on Russia; but you never came out. So you pass nights in the palace, do you? You know the password for the guards! you have a key to a secret door. Oh, you are a spy — you are a spy! I never trusted you, with your soft white hands, your curled hair, your