Технологическая карта урока по теме Шекспир (6 класс)

JULIET

If they do see thee, they will murder thee.

ROMEO

Alack, there lies more peril in thine eye Than twenty of their swords: look thou but sweet, And I am proof against their enmity.

JULIET

I would not for the world they saw thee here.

ROMEO

I have night's cloak to hide me from their sight; And but thou love me, let them find me here: My life were better ended by their hate, Than death prorogued, wanting of thy love.

JULIET

By whose direction found'st thou out this place?

ROMEO

By love, who first did prompt me to inquire; He lent me counsel and I lent him eyes. I am no pilot; yet, wert thou as far As that vast shore wash'd with the farthest sea, I would adventure for such merchandise.

JULIET

Thou know'st the mask of night is on my face, Else would a maiden blush bepaint my cheek For that which thou hast heard me speak to-night Fain would I dwell on form, fain, fain deny What I have spoke: but farewell compliment! Dost thou love me? I know thou wilt say 'Ay,' And I will take thy word: yet if thou swear'st, Thou mayst prove false; at lovers' perjuries Then say, Jove laughs. O gentle Romeo, If thou dost love, pronounce it faithfully: Or if thou think'st I am too quickly won, I'll frown and be perverse an say thee nay, So thou wilt woo; but else, not for the world. In truth, fair Montague, I am too fond, And therefore thou mayst think my 'havior light: But trust me, gentleman, I'll prove more true Than those that have more cunning to be strange. I should have been more strange, I must confess, But that thou overheard'st, ere I was ware, My true love's passion: therefore pardon me, And not impute this yielding to light love, Which the dark night hath so discovered.

ROMEO

Lady, by yonder blessed moon I swear That tips with silver all these fruit-tree tops--

JULIET

O, swear not by the moon, the inconstant moon, That monthly changes in her circled orb, Lest that thy love prove likewise variable.

ROMEO

What shall I swear by?

JULIET

Do not swear at all; Or, if thou wilt, swear by thy gracious self, Which is the god of my idolatry, And I'll believe thee.

ROMEO

If my heart's dear love—

Монолог Гамлета.

Текст подлинника

(дан в современной английской орфографии

 по изданию "The Riverside Shakespeare: Complete Works")

 To be, or not to be, that is the question:

 Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to suffer

 The slings and arrows of outrageous fortune,

 Or to take arms against a sea of troubles,

 And by opposing, end them. To die, to sleep -

 No more, and by a sleep to say we end

 The heart-ache and the thousand natural shocks

 That flesh is heir to; 'tis a consummation

 Devoutly to be wish'd. To die, to sleep -

 To sleep, perchance to dream - ay, there's the rub,

 For in that sleep of death what dreams may come,

 When we have shuffled off this mortal coil,

 Must give us pause; there's the respect

 That makes calamity of so long life:

 For who would bear the whips and scorns of time,

 Th' oppressor's wrong, the proud man's contumely,

 The pangs of despis'd love, the law's delay,

 The insolence of office, and the spurns

 That patient merit of th' unworthy takes,

 When he himself might his quietus make

 With a bare bodkin; who would fardels bear,

 To grunt and sweat under a weary life,

 But that the dread of something after death,

 The undiscover'd country, from whose bourn

 No traveller returns, puzzles the will,

 And makes us rather bear those ills we have,

 Than fly to others that we know not of?

 Thus conscience does make cowards [of us all],

 And thus the native hue of resolution

 Is sicklied o'er with the pale cast of thought,

 And enterprises of great pitch and moment

 With this regard their currents turn awry,

 And lose the name of action. - Soft you now,

 The fair Ophelia. Nymph, in thy orisons

 Be all my sins rememb'red.

Вильям Шекспир. Сонеты (в переводе Маршака)

66

Зову я смерть. Мне видеть невтерпеж

Достоинство, что просит подаянья,

Над простотой глумящуюся ложь,

Ничтожество в роскошном одеянье,

И совершенству ложный приговор,

И девственность, поруганную грубо,

И неуместной почести позор,

И мощь в плену у немощи беззубой,

И прямоту, что глупостью слывет,

И глупость в маске мудреца, пророка,

И вдохновения зажатый рот,

И праведность на службе у порока.

Все мерзостно, что вижу я вокруг...

Но как тебя покинуть, милый друг!

90

Уж если ты разлюбишь - так теперь,

Теперь, когда весь мир со мной в раздоре.

Будь самой горькой из моих потерь,

Но только не последней каплей горя!

И если скорбь дано мне превозмочь,

Не наноси удара из засады.

Пусть бурная не разрешится ночь

Дождливым утром - утром без отрады.

Оставь меня, но не в последний миг,

Когда от мелких бед я ослабею.

Оставь сейчас, чтоб сразу я постиг,

Что это горе всех невзгод больнее,

Что нет невзгод, а есть одна беда -

Твоей любви лишиться навсегда.

Сонет № 66 в переводе ПАСТЕРНАКА. 

".. Измучась всем, я умереть хочу.. Тоска смотреть, как мается бедняк,.

И как шутя живется богачу. И доверять, и попадать впросак.

И наблюдать, как наглость лезет в свет. И честь девичья катится ко дну. 

И знать, что ходу совершенствам нет.. И видеть мощь у немощи в плену..

И вспоминать, что Мысли заткнут рот, и Разум сносит Глупости хулу..

и Прямодушье  простотой слывет.. и  Доброта прислуживает Злу.. 

Измучась всем, не сталбы жить и дня!.. Да другу трудно будет без меня.."

ШЕКСПИР Сонет 66 

Tired with all these, for restful death I cry, -As to behold desert a

beggar born,And needy nothing trimm'd in jollity,And purest faith

unhappily forsworn,And gilded honour shamefully misplac'd, And maiden

virtue rudely strumpeted,And right perfection wrongfully disgrac'd,And

strength by limping sway disabled,And art made tongue-tied by

autority,And folly (doctor-like) controlling skill,And simple truth

miscall'd simplicity, And captive good attending captain ill:Tired

with all these, from these would I be gone,Save that, to die, I leave

my love alone.."