Аннотация: Публикуется перевод поэмы Эдмунда Спенсера "Колин Клаутс венулся домой". Превод с английского на русский.
Эдмунд Спенсер Колин Клаутс вернулся-1
(Колин Клаутс снова возвратился домой).
(Издано в Лондоне Уильямом Понсонби, в 1595 году).
Посвящается истинному достойному и благородному Рыцарю сэру Уолтеру Рэли,
капитану гвардии Её Величества, лорду-смотрителю оловянных заводов, и лейтенанту графства Корнуолл.
Сэр, чтобы Вы могли увидеть, что я не всегда празден, как Вы можете подумать, я,
хоть не слишком занят, но не настолько забываю о своём долге и, не будучи навязчивым, я подношу Вам эту простую пастораль, хотя не отвчающую Вашему высокому представлению о подобающем стиле, но согласную с истиной и обстоятельствами предмета разговора. Я почтительно прошу Вас принять её в качестве хотя бы частичного возмещения моего бесконечного долга; при чём я признаю, что обязан Вам за Ваши милости и благодеяния, оказанные мне в последнее время в Англии, когда Вы с сочувствием защитили меня от злобы и порочащих уст,
которые широко распахивались, чтобы извратить и оболгать мои простые намерения.
Я постоянно молюсь о Вашем счастье. Пишу из моего дома в Килколмане, 28 декабря
1591 года. Всегда преданный Вам
Эдмунд Спенсер.
("Колин Клаутс снова вернулся домой" - это рассказ о поездке поэта в Англию вместе с Уолтером Рэли в 1559 году и о том, что там поэт обнаружил при королевском дворе. Очевидно, что эта пастораль была написана вскоре после возвращения поэта в Ирландию, в свой замок Килколман. Первая редакция в рукописи
сразу же была отправлена другу Рэли. Примерно четыре года спустя, вероятно перед
отдачей пасторали в печать, Спенсер внёс в текст изменения, связанные со вновь
произошедшими событиями. При этом поэт вновь использовал свой прежний псевдоним из "Пастушьего Календаря", вновь предстал перед читателями как Колин Клаутс.
Поэту при этом вновь пригодился его прежний друг и собесдник Хоббинол (Hobbinol),
чтобы вести с ним диалоги и рассказывать о придворных любовных утехах. Здесь поэт
высказал что-то вроде отречения (палиноды) от своей бывшей любовницы Розалинды.
В "Пастушьем Календаре" оба представителя этой любовной пары были фантастическими
персонажами. Колин Клаутс, вернувшийся домой, мало чем связан с Колином Клаутсом из "Пастушьего Календаря". В раннем произведении факты представали в смутном и двусмысленном виде, как бы сквозь светящийся туман. (Любовь сатира там совершенно
сбивает читателя с толку). В новом рассказе события рисуются прямо и ясно. Рассказ похож на хронику. (Как в "Сказке матушки Хабберд").
Пастораль в новом рассказе выглядит своеобразной точкой зрения, маскировкой.
Маски легко надеваются и снимаются по желанию.
При переходе от аллегории к реальному (буквальному) рассказу стиль повествования
меняется в соответствии с ходом воспоминаний поэта о поездке. (It is free, not
run in moulds). Рядом со всем этим красоты "Пастушьего Календаря" кажутся почти
академическими.
Colin Clouts Come Home Againe
BY ED. SPENCER
LONDON
PRINTED FOR WILLIAM PONSONBIE
1595
TO THE RIGHT WORTHY AND NOBLE KNIGHT SIR WALTER RALEIGH, CAPTAINE OF HER MAJESTIES GUARD, LORD WARDEIN OF THE STANNERIES, AND LIEUTENANT OF THE COUNTIE OF CORNWALL
SIR, that you may see that I am not alwaies ydle as yee thinke, though not greatly well occupied, nor altogither undutifull, though not precisely officious, I make you present of this simple pastorall, unworthie of your higher conceipt for the meanesse of the stile, but agreeing with the truth in circumstance and matter. The which I humbly beseech you to accept in part of paiment of the infinite debt in which I acknowledge my selfe bounden unto you, for your singular favours and sundrie good turnes shewed to me at my late being in England, and with your good countenance protect against the malice of evill mouthes, which are alwaies wide open to carpe at and misconstrue my simple meaning. I pray continually for your happinesse. From my house of Kilcolman, the 27 of December, 1591.
Yours ever humbly,
Ed. Sp.
[Colin Clout"s Come Home Again is the record of the poet"s expedition to England with Raleigh in 1589 and of what he found there at court. It was obviously written not long after his return to Kilcolman and sent to his friend as soon as done. About four years later, probably by way of revision for the press, he made changes inspired by intervening events.
In a poem of such content, it was natural that he should adopt his old incognito of the Shepherd"s Calendar and appear as Colin Clout. In that character, he would naturally need his old friend and interlocutor, Hobbinol, to start the dialogue, and when he came to the theme of court love-making, he could hardly fail to sing a palinode upon his old mistress Rosalind. They were set personages of the fiction. Yet Colin Clout"s Come Home Again owes little to the Calendar; for its art is essentially more direct. In the earlier poem whatever facts of personal experience and opinion are to be discerned we see dimly and ambiguously through a kind of luminous fog: love-story and satire are altogether baffling. In the later, the story is almost as clear as a chronicle, the satire almost as direct and vivid as that of "Mother Hubberd"s Tale." Its pastoralism, indeed, is more a point of view than a set disguise, or, at least, the mask is worn lightly and removed at will. From the allegorical to the literal the style winds to and fro flexibly, according as the poet"s memories take form. It is free, not run in moulds. Beside it the beauties of the Calendar seem almost academic.]
COLIN CLOUTS COME HOME AGAINE
THE SHEPHEARDS boy (best knowen by that name)
That after Tityrus first sung his lay,
Laies of sweet love, without rebuke or blame,
Sate (as his custome was) upon a day,
Charming his oaten pipe unto his peres, 5
The shepheard swaines that did about him play:
Who all the while, with greedie listfull eares,
Did stand astonisht at his curious skill,
Like hartlesse deare, dismayd with thunders sound.
At last when as he piped had his fill, 10
He rested him: and sitting then around,
One of those groomes (a jolly groome was he,
As ever piped on an oaten reed,
And lov"d this shepheard dearest in degree,
Hight Hobbinol) gan thus to him areed. 15
"Colin, my liefe, my life, how great a losse
Had all the shepheards nation by thy lacke!
And I, poore swaine, of many, greatest crosse:
That, sith thy Muse first since thy turning backe
Was heard to sound as she was wont on hye, 20
Hast made us all so blessed and so blythe.
Whilest thou wast hence, all dead in dole did lie:
The woods were heard to waile full many a sythe,
And all their birds with silence to complaine:
The fields with faded flowers did seem to mourne, 25
And all their flocks from feeding to refraine:
The running waters wept for thy returne,
And all their fish with languour did lament:
But now both woods and fields and floods revive,
Sith thou art come, their cause of meriment, 30
That us, late dead, hast made againe alive.
But were it not too painfull to repeat
The passed fortunes, which to thee befell
In thy late voyage, we thee would entreat,
Now at thy leisure them to us to tell." 35
To whom the shepheard gently answered thus:
"Hobbin, thou temptest me to that I covet:
For of good passed newly to discus,
By dubble usurie doth twise renew it.
And since I saw that Angels blessed eie, 40
Her worlds bright sun, her heavens fairest light,
My mind, full of my thoughts satietie,
Doth feed on sweet contentment of that sight:
Since that same day in nought I take delight,
Ne feeling have in any earthly pleasure, 45
But in remembrance of that glorious bright,
My lifes sole blisse, my hearts eternall threasure.
Wake then, my pipe! my sleepie Muse, awake!
Till I have told her praises lasting long:
Hobbin desires, thou maist it not forsake. 50
Harke then, ye jolly shepheards, to my song."
With that they all gan throng about him neare,
With hungrie eares to heare his harmonie:
The whiles their flocks, devoyd of dangers feare,
Did round about them feed at libertie. 55
"One day," quoth he, "I sat (as was my trade)
Under the foote of Mole, that mountaine hore,
Keeping my sheepe amongst the cooly shade
Of the greene alders by the Mullaes shore.
There a straunge shepheard chaunst to find me out, 60
Whether allured with my pipes delight,
Whose pleasing sound yshrilled far about,
Or thither led by chaunce, I know not right:
Whom when I asked from what place he came,
And how he hight, himselfe he did ycleepe 65
The Shepheard of the Ocean by name,
And said he came far from the main-sea deepe.
He, sitting me beside in that same shade,
Provoked me to plaie some pleasant fit,
And when he heard the musicke which I made, 70
He found himselfe full greatly pleasd at it:
Yet ;muling my pipe, he tooke in hond
My pipe, before that ;muled of many,
And plaid theron; (for well that skill he cond)
Himselfe as skilfull in that art as any. 75
He pip"d, I sung, and when he sung, I piped,
By chaunge of turnes, each making other mery,
Neither envying other, nor envied,
So piped we, untill we both were weary."
There interrupting him, a bonie swaine, 80
That Cuddy hight, him thus atweene bespake:
"And should it not thy readie course restraine,
I would request thee, Colin, for my sake,
To tell what thou didst sing, when he did plaie:
For well I weene it worth recounting was, 85
Whether it were some hymne, or morall laie,
Or carol made to praise thy loved lasse."
"Nor of my love, nor of my lasse," quoth he,
"I then did sing, as then occasion fell:
For love had me forlorne, forlorne of me, 90
That made me in that desart chose to dwell.
But of my river Bregogs love I soong,
Which to the shiny Mulla he did beare,
And yet doth beare, and ever will, so long
As water doth within his bancks appeare." 95
"Of fellowship," said then that bony boy,
"Record to us that lovely lay againe:
The staie whereof shall nought these eares annoy,
Who all that Colin makes do covet faine."
"Heare then," quoth he, "the tenor of my tale, 100
In sort as I it to that shepheard told:
No leasing new, nor grandams fable stale,
But auncient truth confirm"d with credence old.
"Old Father Mole, (Mole hight that mountain gray
That walls the northside of Armulla dale) 105
He had a daughter fresh as floure of May,
Which gave that name unto that pleasant vale;
Mulla, the daughter of old Mole, so hight
The nimph, which of that water course has charge,
That, springing out of Mole, doth run downe right 110
To Buttevant, where spreading forth at large,
It giveth name unto that auncient cittie,
Which Kilnemullah cleped is of old:
Whose ragged ruines breed great ruth and pittie
To travailers which it from far behold. 115
Full faine she lov"d, and was belov"d full faine
Of her owne brother river, Bregog hight,
So hight because of this deceitfull traine
Which he with Mulla wrought to win delight.
But her old sire, more carefull of her good, 120
And meaning her much better to preferre,
Did thinke to match her with the neighbour flood,
Which Allo hight, Broadwater called farre:
And wrought so well with his continuall paine,
That he that river for his daughter wonne: 125
The dowre agreed, the day assigned plaine,
The place appointed where it should be doone.
Nath"lesse the nymph her former liking held;
For love will not be drawne, but must be ledde;
And Bregog did so well her fancie weld, 130
That her good will he got her first to wedde.
But, for her father, sitting still on hie,
Did warily still watch which way she went,
And eke from far observ"d, with jealous eie,
Which way his course the wanton Bregog bent, 135
Him to deceive, for all his watchfull ward,
The wily lover did devise this slight:
First into many parts his streame he shar"d,
That, whilest the one was watcht, the other might
Passe unespide to meete her by the way; 140
And then besides, those little streames so broken
He under ground so closely did convay,
That of their passage doth appeare no token,
Till they into the Mullaes water slide.
So secretly did he his love enjoy: 145
Yet not so secret, but it was descride,
And told her father by a shepheards boy.
Who, wondrous wroth for that so foule despight,
In great avenge did roll downe from his hill
Huge mightie stones, the which encomber might 150
His passage, and his water-courses spill.
So of a river, which he was of old,
He none was made, but scattred all to nought,
And, lost emong those rocks into him rold,
Did lose his name: so deare his love he bought." 155
Which having said, him Thestylis bespake:
"Now by my life this was a mery lay,
Worthie of Colin selfe, that did it make.
But read now eke, of friendship I thee pray,
What dittie did that other shepheard sing? 160
For I do covet most the same to heare,
As men use most to covet forreine thing."
"That shall I eke," quoth he, "to you declare.
His song was all a lamentable lay,
Of great unkindnesse, and of usage hard, 165
Of Cynthia, the Ladie of the Sea,
Which from her presence faultlesse him debard.
And ever and anon, with singulfs rife,
He cryed out, to make his undersong:
"Ah! my loves queene, and goddesse of my life, 170
Who shall me pittie, when thou doest me wrong?""
Then gan a gentle bonylasse to speake,
That Marin hight: "Right well he sure did plaine,
That could great Cynthiaes sore displeasure breake,
And move to take him to her grace againe. 175
But tell on further, Colin, as befell
Twixt him and thee, that thee did hence dissuade."
"When thus our pipes we both had wearied well,"
Quoth he, "and each an end of singing made,
He gan to cast great lyking to my lore, 180
And great dislyking to my lucklesse lot,
That banisht had my selfe, like wight forlore,
Into that waste, where I was quite forgot.
The which to leave, thenceforth he counseld mee,
Unmeet for man in whom was ought regard-full, 185
And wend with him, his Cynthia to see,
Whose grace was great, and bounty most rewardfull:
Besides her peerlesse skill in making well,
And all the ornaments of wondrous wit,
Such as all womankynd did far excell, 190
Such as the world admyr"d and praised it:
So what with hope of good, and hate of ill,
He me perswaded forth with him to fare;
Nought tooke I with me, but mine oaten quill:
Small needments else need shepheard to prepare. 195