[duendo]

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Том Стоппард о творческом кризисе))))
SHAKESPEARE:

Words, words, words.
Once, l had the gift.
l could make love out of words
as a potter makes cups of clay.
Love that overthrows empires.
Love that binds two hearts together,
come hellfire and brimstone.
For sixpence a line,
l could cause a riot in a nunnery.
But now--

APOTHECARY:

-And yet you tell me you lie with women.
Black Sue,
Fat Phoebe,
Rosaline, Burbage's seamstress,
Aphrodite, who does it behind--

SHAKESPEARE:

Yes, now and again.
What of it ?
l have lost my gift.

APOTHECARY:

l am here to help you.
Tell me,
in your own words.

SHAKESPEARE:

l-lt's as if
my quill is broken,
as if the organ
of my imagination has dried up,
as if the proud tower
of my genius has collapsed.

APOTHECARY:

- lnteresting.

SHAKESPEARE:

- Nothing comes.

APOTHECARY:

Most interesting.

SHAKESPEARE:

lt's like trying to pick a lock
with a wet herring.

APOTHECARY:

Tell me, are you lately humbled
in the act of love ?
How long has it been ?

SHAKESPEARE:

A goodly length in times past,
but lately--

APOTHECARY:

No, no.
You have a wife, children ?

SHAKESPEARE:

Aye.
l was a lad of .. .
Anne Hathaway was a woman
half as old again.

APOTHECARY:

A woman of property ?

SHAKESPEARE:

She had a cottage.
One day she was three months
gone with child, so--

APOTHECARY:

And your relations ?

SHAKESPEARE:

On my mother's side, the Ardens.


APOTHECARY:

No, your marriage bed.

SHAKESPEARE:

Four years and a hundred miles away
in Stratford.
A cold bed, too,
since the twins were born.
Banishment was a blessing.

APOTHECARY:

So, now you are free to love--
- Yet cannot love, nor write it.
Here is a-- a bangle...
found in Psyche's temple
on Olympus.
Cheap at fourpence.
Write your name on a paper
and feed it into the snake.

SHAKESPEARE:

Will it restore my gift ?

APOTHECARY:

The woman who wears the snake will
dream of you, and your gift will return.
Words will flow like a river.
See you next week.

//Shakespeare in Love//