Вход
Регистрация
Помощь
HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
(act 3, scene 1)
Монолог в исполнении Дерека Якоби (Derek Jacobi) --> mp3 --> avi
30 переводов 35-ти строк монолога принца Гамлета:
HAMLET-1600 (W. Shakespeare)
1. ГАМЛЕТ - 1748 (А.П. Сумароков)
2. ГАМЛЕТ - 1810 (С.И. Висковатов)
3. ГАМЛЕТ - 1828 (М.П. Вронченко)
4. ГАМЛЕТ - 1837 (Н.А.Полевой)
5. ГАМЛЕТ - 1844 (А.И. Кронеберг)
6. ГАМЛЕТ - 1861 (М.А. Загуляев)
7. ГАМЛЕТ - 1873 (Н.Х. Кетчер)
8. ГАМЛЕТ - 1880 (Н.Н. Маклаков)
9. ГАМЛЕТ - 1883 (А.Л. Соколовский)
10.ГАМЛЕТ - 1889 (А. Месковский)
11.ГАМЛЕТ - 1892 (П.П. Гнедич)
12.ГАМЛЕТ - 1893 (П.А. Каншин)
13.ГАМЛЕТ - 1895 (Д.В. Аверкиев)
14.ГАМЛЕТ - 1899 (К.Р.)(К. Романов)
15.ГАМЛЕТ - 1907 (Н.Н. Россов)
16.ГАМЛЕТ - 1930 (В. Набоков)
17.ГАМЛЕТ - 1933 (М.Л. Лозинский)
18.ГАМЛЕТ - 1937 (А.Д. Радлова)
19.ГАМЛЕТ - 1940-60/68 (Б.Л. Пастернак)
20.ГАМЛЕТ - 1954 (М.М. Морозов)
21.ГАМЛЕТ - 1972 (Генрих Худяков)
22.ГАМЛЕТ - 1997 (Андрей Чернов)
23.ГАМЛЕТ - 1999 (Виталий Рапопорт)
24.ГАМЛЕТ - 2000 ("Н.Т. Балиус")
25.ГАМЛЕТ - 2001 (Виталий Поплавский)
26.ГАМЛЕТ - 2002 ('Вадим Николаев')
27 ГАМЛЕТ - 2002 ("Борис Акунин")
28.ГАМЛЕТ - 2003 (Анатолий Елохин)
29.ГАМЛЕТ - 2006 (Анатолий Азиат)
30.ГАМЛЕТ - 2009 ('*мираж', форум Грамота.Ру)
http://adada.nm.ru/gamlet_to_be.htm
Страница 1 из 1
HAMLET, PRINCE OF DENMARK
Цитата
#2
- Мак
-
- Группа: Пользователи
- сообщений 3 512
- Регистрация: 06-Июль 08
Отправлено 14 Ноябрь 2009 - 07:56
Шекспир Уильям
William Shakespear
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,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the 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 pith 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 remember’d.
http://www.velib.com...p;book=4763_1_1
William Shakespear
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,
The oppressor’s wrong, the proud man’s contumely,
The pangs of despised love, the law’s delay,
The insolence of office and the spurns
That patient merit of the 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 pith 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 remember’d.
http://www.velib.com...p;book=4763_1_1
Страница 1 из 1