ПОЦЕЛУЙ ФУЛИГИНОЗНЫЙ.
Итальянский поэт Франческо Джанни — автор замечательного сонета, в котором мстительный поцелуй демонов за поцелуй предательства передан с большой силой, следуя за не менее мощным портретом Сатаны:
“Poi fra le braccia si reco quel tristo,
E con la bocca fumigante e neva
Gli rese il bacio che avea dato al Cristo.”
[Затем злодей бросился в его объятия, и с черным дымящимся ртом — поцелуй фулигинозный — он вернул поцелуй, который дал Христу.]
ФАБУЛЛА.
Марциал в своих «Эпиграммах» (xii. 93) делает следующее замечание:
«Фабулла нашла способ целовать своего любовника в присутствии мужа. У нее есть маленький дурачок, которого она целует снова и снова, когда любовник немедленно хватает его, пока он еще влажный от множества поцелуев, и немедленно отсылает обратно, нагруженного своими собственными, к своей улыбающейся госпоже. Насколько же муж больший дурак, чем этот профессиональный дурачок!»
Или, как переводит это Хэй:
“My lady Modish doth this way devise
To kiss her spark before her husband’s eyes:
She slavers o’er her little boy with kisses,
And the gallant receives the reeking blisses;
Then to the little Cupid gives a smack,
And to his laughing mother sends him back.
But if the husband is this way beguiled,
The husband is by much the greater child.”
ЖЕНЩИНА.
Not she with traitorous kiss her Saviour stung,
Not she denied him with unholy tongue;
She, while apostles shrank, could danger brave,
Last at his cross, and earliest at his grave.
Barrett.
СПУСК С ДЕРЕВА.
With that she leaped into her lord’s embrace,
With well-dissembled virtue in her face.
He hugged her close, and kissed her o’er and o’er,
Disturbed with doubts and jealousies no more;
Both, pleased and blessed, renewed their mutual vows,
A fruitful wife and a believing spouse.
Pope: January and May.
ЛОЖНАЯ ЛЕДИ.
Thy girdle-knife was keen and bright,—
The ribbons wondrous fine,—
’Tween every knot of them you knit,
Of kisses I had nine.
Fond Margaret! false Margaret!
You kissed me, cheek and chin;
Yet, when I slept, that girdle-knife
You sheathed my heart’s blood in.
Old Ballad.
ЗАГОВОР ПРОТИВ ЭДУАРДА II.
Edward, this Mortimer aims at thy life:
Oh, fly him, then! But, Edmund, calm this rage;
Dissemble, or thou diest; for Mortimer
And Isabel do kiss while they conspire:
And yet she bears a face of love, forsooth!
Fie on that love that hatcheth death and hate!
Marlowe.
ЛЖЕСВИДЕТЕЛЬСТВО.
Sworn on every slight pretence,
Till perjuries are common as bad pence,
While thousands, careless of the damning sin,
Kiss the book’s outside who ne’er look within.
Cowper: Expostulation.
ПЛАЧ ЛЕДИ БОСУЭЛЛ.
Fareweil, fareweil, thou falsest youth
That evir kist a woman’s mouth!
I wish all maides be warned by mee
Nevir to trust man’s curtesy;
For if we doe bot chance to bow,
They’le use us then they care not how.
Scottish Song.
ВЕСЕЛЫЙ ОБМАНЩИК.
Trust him not; his words, though sweet,
Seldom with his heart do meet.
All his practice is deceit;
Every gift it is a bait;
Not a kiss but poison bears;
And most treason in his tears.
Ben Jonson: Hue and Cry after Cupid.
ЧАРЫ ОЧАРОВАТЕЛЬНИЦЫ.
She shroudeth vice in virtue’s veil,
Pretending good in ill;
She offereth joy, but bringeth grief;
A kiss—where she doth kill.
Southwell.
УЛОВКИ КУПИДОНА.
Let not his tears thy easiness beguile,
Nor let him circumvent thee with a smile;
If he to kiss thee ask, his kisses fly;
Poison of asps between his lips doth lie.
Anacreon.
ИСКУССТВО.
Amarillis. Here, take thy Amoret; embrace, and kiss!
Perigot. What means my love?
Amarillis. To do as lovers should,
That are to be enjoyed, not to be wooed.
There’s ne’er a shepherdess in all the plain
Can kiss thee with more art; there’s none can feign
More wanton tricks.
Fletcher: Faithful Shepherdess.
ПЕЧАЛЬНАЯ СТОРОНА.
МАРГАРИТА.
Поклонники бессмертной трагедии Гёте «Фауст» вспомнят отрывок, в котором бедная Маргарита говорит своему возлюбленному:
Kiss me?—canst no longer do it?
My friend, so short a time thou’rt missing,
And hast unlearned thy kissing?
Why is my heart so anxious on thy breast?
Where once a heaven thy glances did create me,
A heaven thy loving words expressed,
And thou didst kiss, as thou would suffocate me—
Kiss me!
Or I’ll kiss thee.
(She embraces him.)
Ah, woe! thy lips are chill
And still.
How changed in fashion
Thy passion!
Who has done me this ill?
Не смогут они забыть и простую песню, в которой, сидя за прялкой, она изливает свою скорбь. Заключительные стихи таковы:
And the magic flow
Of his talk, the bliss
In the clasp of his hand,
And, ah, his kiss!
My peace is gone,
My heart is sore;
I never shall find it,
Ah, nevermore!
My bosom yearns
For him alone;
Ah! dared I clasp him,
And hold, and own,
And kiss his mouth
To heart’s desire,
And on his kisses
At last expire!
ВОЗВРАЩЕНИЕ ДОМОЙ.
For them no more the blazing hearth shall burn,
Or busy housewife ply her evening care;
No children run to lisp their sire’s return,
Or climb his knees the envied kiss to share.
Gray: Elegy.
Очевидно, поэт Грей держал в уме следующий отрывок из Лукреция:
“Non domus accipiet te læta, neque uxor
Optima, nec dulces occurrent oscula nati
Præripere, et tacita pectus dulcedine tangent.”
[Никакой радостный дом не примет тебя, ни превосходная жена, и никакие твои дорогие дети не выбегут навстречу тебе, чтобы соревноваться друг с другом в том, кто вырвет у тебя поцелуи, и поднять шум сладкой, но невыразимой привязанности в твоей груди.]
ПОСЛЕ БАЛА.
[Сестры возвращаются с бала в свою комнату, весело смеются и болтают о воспоминаниях вечера, откладывают «платье из атласа и брюссельского кружева», «расчесывают свои косы и локоны», и когда огонь гаснет, а зимний холод усиливается, они ищут покоя. «Отгороженные от холодной ночи, после того как пир окончен», они «плывут в великолепном сне», который пересказывает поэт, а затем обращается к ним так:]
Oh, Maud and Madge, dream on together,
With never a pang of jealous fear!
For, ere the bitter St. Agnes weather
Shall whiten another year,
Robed for the bridal, and robed for the tomb,
Braided brown hair, and golden tress,
There’ll be only one of you left for the bloom
Of the bearded lips to press,—
Only one for the bridal pearls,
The robe of satin and Brussels lace,—
Only one to blush through her curls
At the sight of a lover’s face.
Oh, beautiful Madge, in your bridal white,
For you the revel has just begun;
But for her who sleeps in your arms to-night,
The revel of life is done!
But, robed and crowned with your saintly bliss,
Queen of heaven and bride of the sun,
Oh, beautiful Maud, you’ll never miss
The kisses another hath won!
ПОСЛЕ СВАДЬБЫ.
All alone in my room, at last;
I wonder how far they have travelled now?
They’ll be very far when the night is past;
And so would I, if I knew but how.
How lovely she looked in her wreath and dress!
She is queenlier far than the village girls;
Those were roses, too, in the wreath, I guess—
’Twas they made the crimson amongst her curls.
She’s good as beautiful, too, they say;
Her heart is as gentle as any dove’s;
She’ll be all that she can to him alway—
Dear! I am tearing my new white gloves.
How calm she is, with her saint-like face!
Her eyes are violet—mine are blue;
How careless I am with my mother’s lace!—
Her hands are whiter, and softer, too.
They’ve gone to the city beyond the hill,
They must never come back to this place again!
I’m almost afraid to be here so still;
I wish it would thunder! and lighten! and rain!
Oh, no! for some may not be abed,
Some few, perhaps, may be out to-night;
I hope that the moon will come instead,
And heaven be starry, and earth all light.
’Tis only a summer that she’s been here—
It’s been my home for seventeen years!—
But her name is a testament far and near,
And the poor have embalmed it in priceless tears.
I remember the day when another came—
There! at last, I have tied my hair—
Her curls and mine were nearly the same,
But hers are longer, and mine less fair.
They’re going across the sea, I know,
Across the ocean—will that be far?—
Did I have my comb a moment ago?
I seem to forget where my things all are.
When ships are wrecked, do the people drown?
Is there never a boat to save the crew?
Poor ships! If ever my ship goes down,
I’ll want a grave in the ocean, too.
Good-night, good-night—it is striking one!—
Good-night to bride, and good-night to groom.
The light of my candle is almost done—
I wish my bed was in mother’s room!
How calm it looks in the midnight shade—
Those curtains were hung there clean to-day:
They’re all too white for me, I’m afraid:
Perhaps I may soon be as white as they.
Dark!—all dark!—for the light is dead.
Father in heaven, may I have rest?
One hour of sleep for my weary head—
For this breaking heart in my poor, poor breast!
For his sweet sake do I kneel and pray,
O God! protect him from change and ill;
And render her worthier every way,
The older the purer, the lovelier still.
There! I knew I was going to cry;—
I have kept the tears in my soul too long:
Oh! let me say it, or I shall die,—
As heaven is witness, I mean no wrong.
He never shall hear from this secret room,
He never shall know in the after-years,
How seventeen summers of happy bloom
Fell dead, one night, in a moment of tears!
I loved him more than she understands.
For him I loaded my soul with truth;
For him I am kneeling, with lifted hands,
To lay at his feet my shattered youth!
I love, I adore him, still the same!
More than father, and mother, and life!
My hope of hopes was to bear his name—
My heaven of heavens to be his wife!
His wife—oh, name which the angels breathe,
Let it not crimson my cheek for shame—
’Tis her great glory that word to wreathe
In the princely heart from whose blood it came.
Oh, hush! again I behold them stand,
As they stood to-night, by the chancel wall:
I see him holding her white-gloved hand,
I hear his voice in a whisper fall.
I see the minister’s silver hair,
I see him kneel at the altar-stone,
I see him rise when the prayer is o’er,
He has taken their hands and made them one.
The fathers and mothers are standing near,
The friends are pressing to kiss the bride;
One of those kisses had birthplace here—
The dew of her lips has not yet dried.
His lips have touched hers before to-night—
Then I have a grain of his to keep!
This midnight blackness is flecked with light,
Some angel is singing my soul to sleep.
He knows full well why many a knave
So close to his lady’s lips would swim—
God only knows that the kiss I gave
Was set in her mouth to give to him!
W. L. Keese.
БАЛЛАДА О ЧЕВИ-ЧЕЙСЕ.
В этой популярной балладе, написанной, как полагают, около 1600 года, встречаются эти знакомые строфы:
Next day did many widows come,
Their husbands to bewail;
They washed their wounds in brinish tears,
But all would not prevail.
Their bodies, bathed in purple blood,
They bore with them away;
They kissed them dead a thousand times,
Ere they were clad in clay.
СТАРАЯ ЛЮБОВЬ.
I met her; she was thin and old,
She stooped, and trod with tottering feet;
Her locks were gray that once were gold,
Her voice was harsh that once was sweet;
Her cheeks were sunken, and her eyes,
Robbed of their girlish light of joy,
Were dim: I felt a strange surprise
That I had loved her when a boy.
But yet a something in her air
Restored me to my youthful prime:
My heart grew young, and seemed to wear
The impress of that long-lost time.
I took her wilted hand in mine,
Its touch awoke a ghost of joy;
I kissed her with a reverent sigh,
For I had loved her when a boy.
ДОЧЬ ГРАФА МАРЧА.
Граф, пораженный горем из-за своей убитой горем и умирающей Эллен, стремится вернуть любовника, которого он изгнал. Но уже слишком поздно:
In vain he weeps, in vain he sighs;
Her cheek is cold as ashes;
Nor love’s own kiss shall wake those eyes
To lift their silken lashes.
Campbell.
ДОЧЬ КОРОЛЯ ФРАНЦИИ.
His pale lyppes, alas!
Twenty times she kissed,
And his face did wash
With her trickling teares;
Every gaping wound
Tenderlye she pressed,
And did wipe it round’
With her golden haires.
“Speake, faire love,” quoth shee,
“Speake, faire prince, to mee;
One sweete word of comfort give:
Lift up thy deare eyes,
Listen to my cryes,
Thinke in what sad griefe I live.”
All in vaine she sued,
All in vaine she wooed;
The prince’s life was fled and gone.
Pepys Collection.
ПРЕДСМЕРТНОЕ ПОВЕЛЕНИЕ.
When our dear parents died, they died together;
One fate surprised them, and one grave received them.
My father with his dying breath bequeathed
Her to my love; my mother, as she lay
Languishing by him, called me to her side,
Took me in her fainting arms, wept, and embraced me;
Then pressed me close, and, as she observed my tears,
Kissed them away. Said she, Chamont, my son,
By this, and all the love I ever showed thee,
Be careful of Monimia, watch her youth,
Let not her wants betray her to dishonor;
Perhaps kind heaven may raise some friend; then sighed,
Kissed me again; so blessed us, and expired.
Otway: Orphan.
ВЕРНЫЙ ДО СМЕРТИ.
’Tis she,—far off, through moonlight dim,
He knew his own betrothèd bride,
She who would rather die with him
Than live to gain the world beside!
Her arms are round her lover now,
His livid cheek to hers she presses,
And dips, to bind his burning brow,
In the cool lake her loosened tresses.
...
One struggle, and his pain is past,
Her lover is no longer living!
One kiss the maiden gives, one last,
Long kiss, which she expires in giving!
Moore: Lalla Rookh.
ПОСЛЕДНИЙ ОБРЯД.
Oh, may I view thee with life’s parting ray,
And thy dear hand with dying ardor press;
Sure thou wilt weep, and on thy lover’s clay
With breaking heart print many a tender kiss.
...
On my cold lips thy kisses thou wouldst fix,
While flowing tears with thy dear kisses mix.
Tibullus: Elegy I.
ИЗГАННИКИ.
With louder plaints the mother spoke her woes,
And blest the cot where every pleasure rose;
And kissed her thoughtless babes with many a tear,
And clasped them close, in sorrow doubly dear.
Goldsmith: Deserted Village.
«ORATE HIC PRO ME».
They went with speed to the dungeon-door;
The air was chill and damp;
And the pale girl lay on the marble floor,
Beside the dying lamp;
They kissed her lips, they called her name,
No kiss returned, no answer came.
Motionless, lifeless, there she lay,
Like a statue rent from its base away.
Praed.
ДОЧЬ ИЕФФАЯ.
It comforts me in this one thought to dwell,
That I subdued me to my father’s will;
Because the kiss he gave me, ere I fell,
Sweetens the spirit still.
Tennyson: Dream of Fair Women.
МАЙСКАЯ КОРОЛЕВА.
I have been wild and wayward, but you’ll forgive me now;
You’ll kiss me, my own mother, and forgive me ere I go;
Nay, nay, you must not weep, nor let your grief be wild;
You should not fret for me, mother, you have another child.
Tennyson.
ЕНОХ АРДЕН.
My children, too! must I not speak to these?
They know me not; I should betray myself.
Never; no father’s kiss for me,—the girl
So like her mother, and the boy, my son.
Tennyson.
ЭНОНА.
Oh, mother, hear me yet before I die!
Hath he not sworn his love a thousand times,
In this green valley, under this green hill,
Ev’n on this hand, and sitting on this stone?
Sealed it with kisses? watered it with tears?
Tennyson.
ССОРА И ПРИМИРЕНИЕ.
As through the land at eve we went,
And plucked the ripened ears,
We fell out, my wife and I,
Oh, we fell out, I know not why,
And kissed again with tears.
For when we came where lies the child
We lost in other years,
There above the little grave,
Oh, there above the little grave
We kissed again with tears.
Tennyson: Princess.
ЭВАНГЕЛИНА.
Vainly he strove to whisper her name, for the accents unuttered
Died on his lips, and their motion revealed what his tongue would have spoken.
Vainly he strove to rise; and Evangeline, kneeling beside him,
Kissed his dying lips, and laid his head on her bosom.
Longfellow.
ПО ЗВЕЗДНОМУ ПУТИ.
Gone to sleep with the tender smile
Froze on her silent lips
By the farewell kiss of the angel Death,
Like the last fair bud of a faded wreath
Whose bloom the white frost nips.
СМЕРТЬ МЛАДЕНЦА.
Oh, fairest flower, no sooner blown but blasted,
Soft silken primrose fading timelessly,
Summer’s chief honor, if thou hadst outlasted
Bleak Winter’s force that made thy blossom dry;
For he being amorous on that lovely dye
That did thy cheek envermeil, thought to kiss,
But killed, alas, and then bewailed his fatal bliss.
Milton.
НА СМЕРТЬ РЕБЕНКА ДРУГА.
If Death
More near approaches, meditates, and clasps
Even now some dearer, more reluctant hand,
God, strengthen Thou my faith, that I may see
That ’tis Thine angel, who, with loving haste,
Unto the service of the inner shrine
Doth waken Thy beloved with a kiss.
Lowell.
ХАЙЛЕНДСКАЯ МЭРИ.
Oh, pale, pale now, those rosy lips,
I aft hae kissed sae fondly,
And closed for aye the sparkling glance
That dwelt on me sae kindly!
Burns.
ЧАХОТКА.
Oh, then, when the spirit is taking wing,
How fondly her thoughts to her dear one cling,
As if she would blend her soul with his
In a deep and long-imprinted kiss!
Percival.
БАРБАРА.
Oh, that pallid face!
Those sweet, earnest eyes of grace!
When last I saw them, dearest, ’twas in another place;
You came running forth to meet me, with my love-gift on your wrist,
And a cursed river killed thee, aided by a murderous mist.
Oh, a purple mark of agony was on the mouth I kissed
When last I saw thee, Barbara!
Alexander Smith.
«Я ХОЧУ НАЙТИ СВОЕГО ПАПУ».
Одна дама, прогуливаясь по городской улице, встретила маленькую девочку двух-трех лет, явно потерявшуюся и горько плачущую. Взяв ее за руку, дама спросила, куда она идет.
«Я иду в город, чтобы найти своего папу», — ответил ребенок сквозь рыдания.
«Как зовут твоего папу?» — спросила дама.
«Его зовут папа», — ответило невинное дитя.
«Но как его зовут по-другому? — поинтересовалась дама. — Как его называет твоя мама?»
«Она называет его папа», — настаивал ребенок.
Дама взяла малышку за руку и повела ее, говоря:
«Тебе лучше пойти со мной; я думаю, ты пришла оттуда».
«Да, но я не хочу возвращаться; я хочу найти своего папу», — ответила маленькая девочка, снова заплакав так, будто ее сердце готово было разорваться.
«Зачем тебе твой папа?» — спросила дама.
«Я хочу его поцеловать».
В этот момент подошла сестра ребенка, искавшая ее, и увела ее. Из последующих расспросов выяснилось, что папа малышки, которого она так настойчиво искала, недавно умер. В своем одиночестве и любви к нему она устала ждать, когда он вернется домой, и отправилась на его поиски, чтобы встретить его привычным поцелуем.
НАКАЗАНИЕ ЗА СУРОВОСТЬ.
Кажется жестким и жестоким делом делать привязанности ребенка средством наказания за мелкие детские проступки. Печальный случай может быть приведен в качестве доказательства.