Gottverdammte Tage auf einem gottverdammten Planeten: Eine Beschwerde (German Edition)

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This project aims to show there are all kinds of ways to bring across an author's voice in translation… at least 37 of them one for each story. Translators include literary translation students Managing the Ecosystem focuses on those ecosystems in which human intervention has been or continues to be predominant, specifically within cities and rural areas. Well now you can. And the best part is that you can do it using the data you already have. Today, everything we do creates data, and the volumes are enormous. Virtually every time someone views something online, enters search on Google, Rockstar, Free Spirit, Goblin King.

Angel, Alien, Potions Master.

Lost to us early in , the shock of learning of their private battles--as well as personal experiences with cancer--galvanized a group of authors, editors, publicists and artists to come together and do what we do best--donate our talents to the fight against cancer. Die Rolle des senilen Vergesslichen spielt er so gut, He's the only man tough enough to get through to Johnny and save him from a life in prison—or worse.

And here I prophesy: Good Master Vernon, I am bound to you, That you on my behalf would pluck a flower. In your behalf still will I wear the same.

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And so will I. Objekt, Gegenstand, Ding, widersprechen, protestieren, Ziel, bestreiten, Zweck. Signal, Zeichen, signalisieren, Wink, Fingerzeig, anzeigen, Kennzeichen. Come, let us four to dinner: I dare say This quarrel will drink blood another day. Kind keepers of my weak decaying age, Let dying Mortimer here rest himself.

Even like a man new haled from the rack, So fare my limbs with long imprisonment; And these gray locks, the pursuivants of death, Nestor-like aged in an age of care, Argue the end of Edmund Mortimer. These eyes, like lamps whose wasting oil is spent, Wax dim, as drawing to their exigent; Weak shoulders, overborne with burdening grief, And pithless arms, like to a wither'd vine That droops his sapless branches to the ground: Yet are these feet, whose strengthless stay is numb, Unable to support this lump of clay, Swift-winged with desire to get a grave, As witting I no other comfort have.

But tell me, keeper, will my nephew come? Richard Plantagenet, my lord, will come: William Shakespeare 51 We sent unto the Temple, unto his chamber; And answer was return'd that he will come. Since Henry Monmouth first began to reign, Before whose glory I was great in arms, This loathsome sequestration have I had; And even since then hath Richard been obscured, Deprived of honour and inheritance. But now the arbitrator of despairs, Just Death, kind umpire of men's miseries, With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence: I would his troubles likewise were expired, That so he might recover what was lost.

My lord, your loving nephew now is come. Richard Plantagenet, my friend, is he come? Aye, noble uncle, thus ignobly used, Your nephew, late despised Richard, comes. Direct mine arms I may embrace his neck, And in his bosom spend my latter gasp: O, tell me when my lips do touch his cheeks, That I may kindly give one fainting kiss. And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock, Why didst thou say of late thou wert despised?

First, lean thine aged back against mine arm; And, in that case, I'll tell thee my disease. This day, in argument upon a case, Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me; Among which terms he used his lavish tongue And did upbraid me with my father's death: Which obloquy set bars before my tongue, Else with the like I had requited him. Therefore, good uncle, for my father's sake, In honor of a true Plantagenet And for alliance sake, declare the cause My father, Earl of Cambridge, lost his head. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me And hath detain'd me all my flowering youth Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine, Was cursed instrument of his decease.

Discover more at large what cause that was, For I am ignorant and cannot guess. I will, if that my fading breath permit, And death approach not ere my tale be done. Henry the Fourth, grandfather to this king, Deposed his nephew Richard, Edward's son, The first-begotten and the lawful heir Of Edward king, the third of that descent; During whose reign the Percies of the north, Finding his usurpation most unjust, Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne. Levied an army, weening to redeem And have install'd me in the diadem: But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl And was beheaded.

Thus the Mortimers, In whom the title rested, were suppress'd. Of which, my lord, your honor is the last. True; and thou seest that I no issue have, And that my fainting words do warrant death: Thou art my heir; the rest I wish thee gather: But yet be wary in thy studious care. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me: But yet, methinks, my father's execution Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.

With silence, nephew, be thou politic: Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster, And like a mountain not to be removed. But now thy uncle is removing hence; As princes do their courts, when they are cloy'd With long continuance in a settled place. O, uncle, would some part of my young years Might but redeem the passage of your age! Thou dost then wrong me, as that slaughterer doth Which giveth many wounds when one will kill.

Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good; Only give order for my funeral: And so farewell, and fair be all thy hopes, And prosperous be thy life in peace and war! And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul! In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage, And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.

Die Beschissenheit der Dinge: Roman (German Edition)

Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; And what I do imagine let that rest. Keepers, convey him hence; and I myself Will see his burial better than his life. Ratschlag, Rechtsanwalt, Rat, Anwalt, ratgeben, raten, Advokat, avisieren, beraten. Berg, der Berg, Gebirge. And for those wrongs, those bitter injuries, Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house, I doubt not but with honour to redress; And therefore haste I to the parliament, Either to be restored to my blood, Or make my ill the advantage of my good.

Vorteil, Nutzen, Interesse, Vorzug. Zweifel, bezweifeln, zweifeln, Bedenken, anzweifeln. Ehre, ehren, beehren, verehren, Ehrung, Gewinn, Ehrerbietung erweisen, achten, hochachten, Aufwendung, huldigen. Comest thou with deep premeditated lines, With written pamphlets studiously devised, Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse, Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge. Do it without invention, suddenly; As I with sudden and extemporal speech Purpose to answer what thou canst object. Think not, although in writing I preferr'd The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, German bill: William Shakespeare 57 That therefore I have forged, or am not able Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness, Thy lewd, pestiferous and dissentious pranks, As very infants prattle of thy pride.

Thou art a most pernicious usurer, Froward by nature, enemy to peace; Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems A man of thy profession and degree; And for thy treachery, what's more manifest In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life, As well at London-bridge as at the Tower. Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts are sifted The king, thy sovereign, is not quite exempt From envious malice of thy swelling heart. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe To give me hearing what I shall reply. If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse, As he will have me, how am I so poor? Or how haps it I seek not to advance Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?

And for dissension, who preferreth peace More than I do? No, my good lords, it is not that offends; It is not that that hath incensed the duke: It is, because no one should sway but he; No one but he should be about the king; And that engenders thunder in his breast, And makes him roar these accusations forth.

But he shall know I am as good-- German accusations: Thou bastard of my grandfather! Aye, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray, But one imperious in another's throne? Am I not protector, saucy priest? And am not I a prelate of the church? Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps And useth it to patronage his theft. Thou art reverent Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.

Rome shall remedy this. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. Methinks my lord should be religious, And know the office that belongs to such. Abhilfe, Heilmittel, Mittel, abhelfen, beheben, heben, aufwickeln, aufrollen, Arznei, anmachen, eindrehen.

Methinks his lordship should be humbler; It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. State holy or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal, I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown, That two such noble peers as ye should jar!

Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell Civil dissension is a viperous worm That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun through malice of the bishop's men. Herrschaft, Gebiet des Lords, die fling: Gewalt, das Herrschaftsgebiet, die gnaws: Stichelei, Sarkasmus, Grimm, join: O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry, Pity the city of London, pity us! The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones, And banding themselves in contrary parts Do pelt so fast at one another's pate That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: Our windows are broke down in every street, And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.

We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaughtering hands and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife. Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we 'll fall to it with our teeth. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. You of my household, leave this peevish broil And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, Inferior to none but to his Majesty: And ere that we will suffer such a prince, So kind a father of the commonweal, German allegiance: William Shakespeare 61 To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate, We and our wives and children all will fight, And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.

Aye, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field when we are dead. Stay, stay, I say! And if you love me, as you say you do, Let me persuade you to forbear awhile. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold My sighs and tears and will not once relent? Who should be pitiful, if you be not? Or who should study to prefer a peace, If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester; Except you mean with obstinate repulse To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm. You see what mischief and what murder too Hath been enacted through your enmity; Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood. He shall submit, or I will never yield. Compassion on the king commands me stoop; German afflict: Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, As by his smoothed brows it doth appear: Why look you still so stem and tragical?

Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. I have heard you preach That malice was a great and grievous sin; And will not you maintain the thing you teach, But prove a chief offender in the same? For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent! What, shall a child instruct you what to do? So help me God, as I dissemble not! O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester, How joyful am I made by this contract!

I'll to the surgeon's. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet. We do exhibit to your majesty. Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: Especially for those occasions At Eltham place I told your majesty. And those occasions, uncle, were of force; Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is That Richard be restored to his blood.

Let Richard be restored to his blood; So shall his father's wrongs be recompensed. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. If Richard will be true, not that alone But all the whole inheritance I give That doth belong unto the house of York, From whence you spring by lineal descent.

Thy humble servant vows obedience And humble service till the point of death. Stoop then and set your knee against my foot; And, in reguerdon of that duty done, I girt thee with the valiant sword of York: And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall! And as my duty springs, so perish they That grudge one thought against your majesty! Welcome, high prince, the mighty Duke of York! Now will it best avail your majesty German belong: Knie, das Knie, Krummholz.

William Shakespeare 65 To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France: The presence of a king engenders love Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends, As it disanimates his enemies. When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes; For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. Your ships already are in readiness. Aye, we may march in England or in France, Not seeing what is likely to ensue. This late dissension grown betwixt the peers Burns under feigned ashes of forged love, And will at last break out into a flame; As fest'red members rot but by degree, Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away, So will this base and envious discord breed.

And now I fear that fatal prophecy Which in the time of Henry named the fifth Was in the mouth of every sucking babe; That Henry born at Monmouth should win all And Henry born at Windsor lose all: Which is so plain, that Exeter doth wish His days may finish ere that hapless time. These are the city gates, the gates of Rouen, Through which our policy must make a breach: Take heed, be wary how you place your words; Talk like the vulgar sort of market men That come to gather money for their corn.

If we have entrance, as I hope we shall, And that we find the slothful watch but weak, I 'll by a sign give notice to our friends, That Charles the Dauphin may encounter them. Our sacks shall be a mean to sack the city, And we be lords and rulers over Rouen; Therefore we 'll knock. Paysans, pauvres gens de France; Poor market folks that come to sell their corn. Enter, go in; the market bell is rung. Now, Rouen, I 'll shake thy bulwarks to the ground. Glocke, Klingel, Schelle, die Klingel, Wecker. Begegnung, begegnen, treffen, antreffen. Sack, entlassen, Beutel, slothful: Saint Denis bless this happy stratagem!

And once again we 'll sleep secure in Rouen. Here enter'd Pucelle and her practisants; Now she is there, how will she specify Here is the best and safest passage in? By thrusting out a torch from yonder tower; Which, once discern'd, shows that her meaning is, No way to that, for weakness, which she enter'd. Behold, this is the happy wedding torch That joineth Rouen unto her countrymen, But burning fatal to the Talbotites! See, noble Charles, the beacon of our friend; The burning torch in yonder turret stands.

Now shine it like a comet of revenge, A prophet to the fall of all our foes! Defer no time, delays have dangerous ends; Enter, and cry, 'The Dauphin! France, thou shalt rue this treason with thy tears, If Talbot but survive thy treachery. Pucelle, that witch, that damned sorceress, Hath wrought this hellish mischief unawares, That hardly we escaped the pride of France.

I think the Duke of Burgundy will fast Before he 'll buy again at such a rate: Scoff on, vile fiend and shameless courtezan! I trust ere long to choke thee with thine own, And make thee curse the harvest of that corn. Your Grace may starve perhaps before that time. O, let no words, but deeds, revenge this treason! What will you do, good graybeard? Foul fiend of France, and hag of all despite, Encompass'd with thy lustful paramours!

Becomes it thee to taunt his valiant age, And twit with cowardice a man half dead? Damsel, I 'll have a bout with you again, Or else let Talbot perish with this shame. Are ye so hot? Dare ye come forth and meet us in the field? Belike your lordship takes us then for fools, To try if that our own be ours or no. I speak not to that railing Hecate, But unto thee, Alencon, and the rest; Will ye, like soldiers, come and fight it out?

Like peasant foot-boys do they keep the walls, And dare not take up arms like gentlemen. And there will we be too, ere it be long, Or else reproach be Talbot's greatest fame! Vow, Burgundy, by honor of thy house, Prick'd on by public wrongs sustain'd in France, Either to get the town again or die: And I, as sure as English Henry lives, And as his father here was conqueror, As sure as in this late-betrayed town Great Coeur-de-lion's heart was buried, So sure I swear to get the town or die. My vows are equal partners with thy vows. But, ere we go, regard this dying prince, The valiant Duke of Bedford.

Come, my lord, We will bestow you in some better place, Fitter for sickness and for crazy age. Lord Talbot, do not so dishonor me: Here will I sit before the walls of Rouen, And will be partner of your weal or woe. Courageous Bedford, let us now persuade you. Not to be gone from hence; for once I read That stout Pendragon in his litter sick German bestow: Teilhaber, Partner, Gesellschafter, Teilnehmer, Kompagnon. William Shakespeare 71 Came to the field and vanquished his foes. Methinks I should revive the soldiers' hearts, Because I ever found them as myself.

Undaunted spirit in a dying breast! Then be it so: And now no more ado, brave Burgundy, But gather we our forces out of hand And set upon our boasting enemy. Whither away, Sir John Fastolfe, in such haste? We are like to have the overthrow again. Will you fly, and leave Lord Talbot? Aye, All the Talbots in the world, to save my life. Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please, For I have seen our enemies' overthrow. Geist, Seele, Genius, Spiritus. They that of late were daring with their scoffs Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.

Lost, and recover'd in a day again! This is a double honor, Burgundy: Yet heavens have glory for this victory! Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects Thy noble deeds as valor's monuments. But where is Pucelle now? I think her old familiar is asleep: Now where 's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks? Rouen hangs her head for grief That such a valiant company are fled. Now will we take some order in the town, Placing therein some expert officers; And then depart to Paris to the king, For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

What Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy. But yet, before we go, let 's not forget The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased, But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen: A braver soldier never couched lance, German braver: William Shakespeare 73 A gentler heart did never sway in court; But kings and mightiest potentates must die, For that's the end of human misery.

Dismay not, princes, at this accident, Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered: Care is no cure, but rather corrosive, For things that are not to be remedied. Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while And like a peacock sweep along his tail; We 'll pull his plumes and take away his train, If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.

We have been guided by thee hitherto, And of thy cunning had no diffidence: Search out thy wit for secret policies, And we will make thee famous through the world. We'll set thy statue in some holy place, German along: Heilung, heilen, kurieren, genesen, Heilmittel, Kur, behandeln, wiederherstellen, gesunden.

Triumph, Triumphieren, Sieg, siegen. Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

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Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise: By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words We will entice the Duke of Burgundy To leave the Talbot and to follow us. Aye, marry, sweeting, if we could do that, France were no place for Henry's warriors; Nor should that nation boast it so with us, But be extirped from our provinces. For ever should they be expulsed from France, And not have tide of an earldom here. Your honours shall perceive how I will work To bring this matter to the wished end.

Fortune in favor makes him lag behind. Summon a parley; we will talk with him. Nation, Volk, Staat, Reich, Land. Gezeiten, Ebbe und Flut, Tide, Gezeitenstrom. A parley with the Duke of Burgundy! Who craves a parley with the Burgundy? The princely Charles of France, thy countryman. What say'st thou, Charles? Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words. Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France! Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee. Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

Look on thy country, look on fertile France, And see the cities and the towns defaced By wasting ruin of the cruel foe. As looks the mother on her lowly babe When death doth close his tender dying eyes, See, see the pining malady of France; Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds, Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast. O, turn thy edged sword another way; Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.

One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore: Return thee therefore with a flood of tears, And wash away thy country's stained spots. Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words, Or nature makes me suddenly relent. Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee, Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.

Who join'st thou with but with a lordly nation That will not trust thee but for profit's sake? When Talbot hath set footing once in France, And fashion'd thee that instrument of ill, Who then but English Henry will be lord, And thou be thrust out like a fugitive? Call we to mind, and mark but this for proof, Was not the Duke of Orleans thy foe? And was he not in England prisoner? But when they heard he was thine enemy, They set him free without his ransom paid, In spite of Burgundy and all his friends. See, then, thou fight'st against thy countrymen And join'st with them will be thy slaughtermen.

Come, come, return; return, thou wandering lord; Charles and the rest will take thee in their arms. I am vanquished; these haughty words of hers Have batt'red me like roaring cannon-shot, And made me almost yield upon my knees. Forgive me, country, and sweet countrymen, And, lords, accept this hearty kind embrace: My forces and my power of men are yours: So, farewell, Talbot; I 'll no longer trust thee.

Rente, Erwiderung, Heimkehr, exclaims: Vertrauen, sich verlassen auf, Zuversicht, zutrauen, betrauen mit, rechnen, Vertrauen setzen in, Treuhand, Trust, vertrauen mit. Welcome, brave duke; thy friendship makes us fresh. And doth beget new courage in our breasts. Pucelle hath bravely play'd her part in this, And doth deserve a coronet of gold. Now let us on, my lords, and join our powers, And seek how we may prejudice the foe.

My gracious Prince, and honourable peers, Hearing of your arrival in this realm, I have awhile given truce unto my wars, To do my duty to my sovereign: In sign whereof, this arm, that hath reclaim'd To your obedience fifty fortresses, Twelve cities and seven walled towns of strength, Beside five hundred prisoners of esteem, German arm: Ankunft, Eintreffen, Versorgung, Kommen.

Gold, Golden, das Gold.

Yes, if it please your majesty, my liege. Welcome, brave captain and victorious lord! When I was young, as yet I am not old. I do remember how my father said A stouter champion never handled sword. Long since we were resolved of your truth, Your faithful service and your toil in war; Yet never have you tasted our reward, Or been reguerdon'd with so much as thanks. Because till now we never saw your face: Now, sir, to you, that were so hot at sea, Disgracing of these colors that I wear In honor of my noble Lord of York: Yes, sir; as well as you dare patronage The envious barking of your saucy tongue Against my lord the Duke of Somerset.

Sirrah, thy lord I honor as he is. Why, what is he? Hark ye; not so: Villain, thou know'st the law of arms is such That whoso draws a sword, 'tis present death, Or else this blow should broach thy dearest blood. But I 'll unto his majesty, and crave I may have liberty to venge this wrong; When thou shalt see I 'll meet thee to thy cost.

Well, miscreant, I 'll be there as soon as you; And, after, meet you sooner than you would. Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head. God save King Henry, of that name the sixth! Now, Governor of Paris, take your oath, That you elect no other king but him; Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, And none your foes but such as shall pretend Malicious practices against his state: This shall ye do, so help you righteous God! My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To haste unto your coronation, A letter was deliver'd to my hands, Writ to your Grace from the Duke of Burgundy.

Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! I vow'd, base knight, when I did meet thee next, To tear the garter from thy craven's leg, [Plucking it off. Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest: This dastard, at the battle of Patay, When but in all I was six thousand strong And that the French were almost ten to one, Before we met or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire did run away: In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; Myself and divers gentlemen beside Were there surprised and taken prisoners.

Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood, yea or no. To say the truth, this fact was infamous And ill beseeming any common man, Much more a knight, a captain, and a leader. When first this order was ordain'd, my lords, Knights of the garter were of noble birth, German battle: Richter, beurteilen, urteilen, richten, Preisrichter. He then that is not furnish'd in this sort Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, Profaning this most honorable order, And should, if I were worthy to be judge, Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.

Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear'st thy doom! Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight; Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death. What means his grace, that he hath changed his style? No more but, plain and bluntly, 'To the King! Or doth this churlish superscription Pretend some alteration in good will? He doth, my lord, and is become your foe. Is that the worst this letter doth contain? It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes. Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him, And give him chastisement for this abuse.

How say you, my lord? Then gather strength, and march unto him straight: Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason. And what offence it is to flout his friends. I go, my lord, in heart desiring still You may behold confusion of your foes. Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign. And me, my lord, grant me the combat too. This is my servant: And this is mine: Be patient, lords, and give them leave to speak. Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim?

And wherefore crave you combat?

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With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong. And I with him; for he hath done me wrong. What is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me know, and then I'll answer you. Crossing the sea from England into France, This fellow here, with envious carping tongue, Upbraided me about the rose I wear; Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves Did represent my master's blushing cheeks, When stubbornly he did repugn the truth About a certain question in the law Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him; With other vile and ignominious terms: In confutation of which rude reproach, And in defence of my lord's worthiness, I crave the benefit of law of arms.

And that is my petition, noble lord: But what the gods give they quickly take away. You have only a few years in which to live really, perfectly, and fully. When your youth goes, your beauty will go with it, and then you will suddenly discover that there are no triumphs left for you, or have to content yourself with those mean triumphs that the memory of your past will make more bitter than defeats. Every month as it wanes brings you nearer to something dreadful.

Time is jealous of you, and wars against your lilies and your roses. You will become sallow, and hollow-cheeked, and dull-eyed. You will suffer horribly Don't squander the gold of your days, listening to the tedious, trying to improve the hopeless failure, or giving away your life to the ignorant, the common, and the vulgar. These are the sickly aims, the false ideals, of our age. Live the wonderful life that is in you! Let nothing be lost upon you. Be always searching for new sensations. Be afraid of nothing. A new Hedonism-- that is what our century wants.

You might be its visible symbol. With your personality there is nothing you could not do. The world belongs to you for a season. The moment I met you I saw that you were quite unconscious of what you really are, of what you really might be. There was so much in you that charmed me that I felt I must tell German belongs: I thought how tragic it would be if you were wasted.

For there is such a little time that your youth will last--such a little time. The common hill-flowers wither, but they blossom again. The laburnum will be as yellow next June as it is now. In a month there will be purple stars on the clematis, and year after year the green night of its leaves will hold its purple stars. But we never get back our youth. The pulse of joy that beats in us at twenty becomes sluggish. Our limbs fail, our senses rot. We degenerate into hideous puppets, haunted by the memory of the passions of which we were too much afraid, and the exquisite temptations that we had not the courage to yield to.

There is absolutely nothing in the world but youth! The spray of lilac fell from his hand upon the gravel. A furry bee came and buzzed round it for a moment. Then it began to scramble all over the oval stellated globe of the tiny blossoms. He watched it with that strange interest in trivial things that we try to develop when things of high import make us afraid, or when we are stirred by some new emotion for which we cannot find expression, or when some thought that terrifies us lays sudden siege to the brain and calls on us to yield.

After a time the bee flew away. He saw it creeping into the stained trumpet of a Tyrian convolvulus. The flower seemed to quiver, and then swayed gently to and fro. Suddenly the painter appeared at the door of the studio and made staccato signs for them to come in. They turned to each other and smiled. The light is quite perfect, and you can bring your drinks.

Two green-and-white butterflies fluttered past them, and in the pear-tree at the corner of the garden a thrush began to sing. Gray," said Lord Henry, looking at him. I wonder shall I always be glad? That is a dreadful word. It makes me shudder when I hear it. Women are so fond of using it. They spoil every romance by trying to make it German beats: Oscar Wilde 25 last for ever. It is a meaningless word, too. The only difference between a caprice and a lifelong passion is that the caprice lasts a little longer. The sweep and dash of the brush on the canvas made the only sound that broke the stillness, except when, now and then, Hallward stepped back to look at his work from a distance.

In the slanting beams that streamed through the open doorway the dust danced and was golden. The heavy scent of the roses seemed to brood over everything. After about a quarter of an hour Hallward stopped painting, looked for a long time at Dorian Gray, and then for a long time at the picture, biting the end of one of his huge brushes and frowning. Lord Henry came over and examined the picture. It was certainly a "My dear fellow, I congratulate you most warmly," he said. Gray, come over and look at yourself.

I am awfully obliged to you. When he saw it he drew back, and his cheeks flushed for a moment with pleasure. A look of joy came into his eyes, as if he had recognized himself for the first time. He stood there motionless and in wonder, dimly German beams: The sense of his own beauty came on him like a revelation.

He had never felt it before. Basil Hallward's compliments had seemed to him to be merely the charming exaggeration of friendship. He had listened to them, laughed at them, forgotten them. They had not influenced his nature. Then had come Lord Henry Wotton with his strange panegyric on youth, his terrible warning of its brevity. That had stirred him at the time, and now, as he stood gazing at the shadow of his own loveliness, the full reality of the description flashed across him.

Yes, there would be a day when his face would be wrinkled and wizen, his eyes dim and colourless, the grace of his figure broken and deformed. The scarlet would pass away from his lips and the gold steal from his hair. The life that was to make his soul would mar his body. He would become dreadful, hideous, and uncouth. His eyes deepened into amethyst, and across them came a mist of tears.

He felt as if a hand of ice had been laid upon his heart. It is one of the greatest things in modern art. I will give you anything you like to ask for it. I must have it. I shall grow old, and horrible, and dreadful. But this picture will remain always young. It will never be older than this particular day of June. If it were only the other way! If it were I who was to be always German amethyst: Nebel, Dunst, Dampf, Qualm, Schleier. Oscar Wilde 27 young, and the picture that was to grow old! For that--for that--I would give everything!

Yes, there is nothing in the whole world I would not give! I would give my soul for that! You like your art better than your friends. I am no more to you than a green bronze figure. Hardly as much, I dare say. It was so unlike Dorian to speak like that. He seemed quite angry. His face was flushed and his cheeks burning. You will like them always. How long will you like me? Till I have my first wrinkle, I suppose. I know, now, that when one loses one's good looks, whatever they may be, one loses everything. Your picture has taught me that. Lord Henry Wotton is perfectly right.

Youth is the only thing worth having. When I find that I am growing old, I shall kill myself. I have never had such a friend as you, and I shall never have such another. You are not jealous of material things, are you? I am jealous of the portrait you have painted of me. Why should it keep what I must lose? Every moment that passes takes something from me and gives something to it. Oh, if it were only the other way!

If the picture could change, and I could be always what I am now! Why did you paint it? It will mock me some day--mock me horribly! Elfenbein, Elfenbeinern, Aus Elfenbein, Elfenbeinartig.

Dimitri Verhulst

Silber, silbern, versilbern, silbrig, das Silber. Lord Henry shrugged his shoulders. What is it but canvas and colour? I will not let it come across our three lives and mar them. What was he doing there? His fingers were straying about among the litter of tin tubes and dry brushes, seeking for something. Yes, it was for the long palette-knife, with its thin blade of lithe steel. He had found it at last. He was going to rip up the canvas. With a stifled sob the lad leaped from the couch, and, rushing over to Hallward, tore the knife out of his hand, and flung it to the end of the studio.

I am in love with it, Basil. It is part of myself. Then you can do what you like with yourself. And so will you, Harry? Or do you object to such simple pleasures? But I don't like scenes, except on the stage. What absurd fellows you are, both of you! I wonder who it was defined man as a rational animal. It was German adore: Kopfkissen, Kissen, Polster, das Kissen. Man is many things, but he is not rational. I am glad he is not, after all-- though I wish you chaps would not squabble over the picture. You had much better let me have it, Basil.

This silly boy doesn't really want it, and I really do. I gave it to you before it existed. Gray, and that you don't really object to being reminded that you are extremely young. You have lived since then. There was a rattle of cups and saucers and the hissing of a fluted Georgian urn. Two globe-shaped china dishes were brought in by a page. Dorian Gray went over and poured out the tea. The two men sauntered languidly to the table and examined what was under the covers. I have promised to dine at White's, but it is only with an old friend, so I can send him a wire to say that I am ill, or that I am prevented from coming in consequence of a subsequent engagement.

I think that would be a rather nice excuse: It is so sombre, so depressing. Sin is the only real colourelement left in modern life. Verlobung, Verpflichtung, Verbindung, Verabredung, Einstellung. The one who is pouring out tea for us, or the one in the picture? I would sooner not. I have a lot of work to do. It has nothing to do with our own will. Young men want to be faithful, and are not; old men want to be faithless, and cannot: He always breaks his own. I beg you not to go. Oscar Wilde 31 "I entreat you. Come and see me soon.

Gray, my hansom is outside, and I can drop you at your own place. It has been a most interesting afternoon. Kleid, anziehen, ankleiden, kleiden, bekleiden, verbinden, Kleidung, sichanziehen, das Kleid, Robe, anlegen. Tropfen, Fallen, fallen lassen, Abfall, Schnaps, sickern, sausen, senken, sinken, aus Zink, zinken.

His father had been our ambassador at Madrid when Isabella was young and Prim unthought of, but had retired from the diplomatic service in a capricious moment of annoyance on not being offered the Embassy at Paris, a post to which he considered that he was fully entitled by reason of his birth, his indolence, the good English of his dispatches, and his inordinate passion for pleasure.

The son, who had been his father's secretary, had resigned along with his chief, somewhat foolishly as was thought at the time, and on succeeding some months later to the title, had set himself to the serious study of the great aristocratic art of doing absolutely nothing.

He had two large town houses, but preferred to live in chambers as it was less trouble, and took most of his meals at his club. He paid some attention to the management of his collieries in the Midland counties, excusing himself for this taint of industry on the ground that the one advantage of having coal was that it enabled a gentleman to afford the decency of burning wood on his own hearth.

In politics he was a Tory, except when the Tories were in office, during which period he roundly abused them for being a pack of Radicals. He was a hero to his valet, who bullied him, and a terror to most of his relations, whom he German abused: Herd, Kamin, Feuerstelle, Esse. Oscar Wilde 33 bullied in turn. Only England could have produced him, and he always said that the country was going to the dogs. His principles were out of date, but there was a good deal to be said for his prejudices.

I thought you dandies never got up till two, and were not visible till five. I want to get something out of you. Young people, nowadays, imagine that money is everything. But I don't want money. It is only people who pay their bills who want that, Uncle George, and I never pay mine.

Credit is the capital of a younger son, and one lives charmingly upon it. Besides, I always deal with Dartmoor's tradesmen, and consequently they never bother me. What I want is information: When I was in the Diplomatic, things were much better. But I hear they let them in now by examination. What can you expect? Examinations, sir, are pure humbug from beginning to end. If a man is a gentleman, he knows quite enough, and if he is not a gentleman, whatever he knows is bad for him.

Or rather, I know who he is. He is the last Lord Kelso's grandson. His mother was a Devereux, Lady German affection: Besiedelnd, Beseitigung, Abwickeln, beilegend, Abrechnen, Erledigen. I want you to tell me about his mother. What was she like? Whom did she marry? You have known nearly everybody in your time, so you might have known her.

I am very much interested in Mr. I have only just met him. I knew his mother intimately. I believe I was at her christening. She was an extraordinarily beautiful girl, Margaret Devereux, and made all the men frantic by running away with a penniless young fellow-- a mere nobody, sir, a subaltern in a foot regiment, or something of that kind. I remember the whole thing as if it happened yesterday. The poor chap was killed in a duel at Spa a few months after the marriage. There was an ugly story about it.

They said Kelso got some rascally adventurer, some Belgian brute, to insult his sonin-law in public--paid him, sir, to do it, paid him-- and that the fellow spitted his man as if he had been a pigeon. The thing was hushed up, but, egad, Kelso ate his chop alone at the club for some time afterwards. He brought his daughter back with him, I was told, and she never spoke to him again. Oh, yes; it was a bad business. The girl died, too, died within a year.

So she left a son, did she? I had forgotten that. What sort of boy is he? If he is like his mother, he must be a good-looking chap. His mother had money, too. All the Selby property came to her, through her grandfather. Her grandfather hated Kelso, thought him a mean dog. Came to Madrid once when I was there.

Egad, I was ashamed of him. The Queen used to ask me about the English noble who was always quarrelling with the cabmen about their fares. They made quite a story of it. I didn't dare show my face at Court for a month. I hope he treated his grandson better than he did the jarvies. Oscar Wilde 35 "I don't know," answered Lord Henry. He is not of age yet. He has Selby, I know. He told me so. What on earth induced her to behave as she did, I never could understand. She could have married anybody she chose. Carlington was mad after her. She was romantic, though.

All the women of that family were. The men were a poor lot, but, egad! Carlington went on his knees to her. Told me so himself. She laughed at him, and there wasn't a girl in London at the time who wasn't after him. And by the way, Harry, talking about silly marriages, what is this humbug your father tells me about Dartmoor wanting to marry an American?

Ain't English girls good enough for him? They take things flying. I don't think Dartmoor has a chance. I am told that pork-packing is the most lucrative profession in America, after politics. Most American women do. It is the secret of their charm. They are always telling us that it is the paradise for women. That is the reason why, like Eve, they are so excessively anxious to get out of it," said Lord Henry. I shall be late for lunch, if I stop any longer. Thanks for giving me the information I wanted. I always like to know everything about my new friends, and nothing about my old ones.

I have asked myself and Mr. He is her latest protege. I am sick of them. Why, the good woman thinks that I have nothing to do but to write cheques for her silly fads. Philanthropic people lose all sense of humanity. It is their distinguishing characteristic. Lord Henry passed up the low arcade into Burlington Street and turned his steps in the direction of Berkeley Square. So that was the story of Dorian Gray's parentage. Crudely as it had been told to him, it had yet stirred him by its suggestion of a strange, almost modern romance.

A beautiful woman risking everything for a mad passion. A few wild weeks of happiness cut short by a hideous, treacherous crime. Months of voiceless agony, and then a child born in pain. The mother snatched away by death, the boy left to solitude and the tyranny of an old and loveless man. Yes; it was an interesting background. It posed the lad, made him more perfect, as it were. Behind every exquisite thing that existed, there was something tragic.

Worlds had to be in travail, that the meanest flower might blow. And how charming he had been at dinner the night before, as with startled eyes and lips parted in frightened pleasure he had sat opposite to him at the club, the red candleshades staining to a richer rose the wakening wonder of his face. He answered to every touch and thrill of the bow.

There was something terribly enthralling in the exercise of influence. No other activity was like it. To project one's soul into some gracious form, and let it tarry there for a moment; to hear one's own intellectual views echoed back to one with all the added music of passion and youth; to convey one's temperament into another as though it were a subtle fluid or a strange perfume: He was a marvellous type, too, this lad, whom by so curious a chance he had met in Basil's studio, or could be fashioned into a marvellous type, at any rate.

Grace was his, and the white purity of boyhood, and beauty such as old Greek marbles kept for us. There was nothing that one could not do with him. He could be made a Titan or a toy. What a pity it was that such beauty was destined to fade! From a psychological point of view, how interesting he was! The new manner in art, the fresh mode of looking at life, suggested so strangely by the merely visible presence of one who was unconscious of it all; the silent spirit that dwelt in dim woodland, and walked unseen in open field, suddenly showing herself, Dryadlike and not afraid, because in his soul who sought for her there had been wakened that wonderful vision to which alone are wonderful things revealed; the mere shapes and patterns of things becoming, as it were, refined, and gaining a kind of symbolical value, as though they were themselves patterns of some other and more perfect form whose shadow they made real: He remembered something like it in history.

Was it not Plato, that artist in thought, who had first analyzed it? Was it not Buonarotti who had carved it in the coloured marbles of a sonnet-sequence? But in our own century it was strange. Yes; he would try to be to Dorian Gray what, without knowing it, the lad was to the painter who had fashioned the wonderful portrait. He would seek to dominate him--had already, indeed, half done so. He would make that wonderful spirit his own. There was something fascinating in this son of love and death. Murmel, Marmoriert, Marmor, Marmore. Temperament, Feurigkeit, Lebhaftigkeit, Temprament.

He found that he had passed his aunt's some distance, and, smiling to himself, turned back. When he entered the somewhat sombre hall, the butler told him that they had gone in to lunch. He gave one of the footmen his hat and stick and passed into the diningroom. He invented a facile excuse, and having taken the vacant seat next to her, looked round to see who was there.

Dorian bowed to him shyly from the end of the table, a flush of pleasure stealing into his cheek. Opposite was the Duchess of Harley, a lady of admirable good-nature and good temper, much liked by every one who knew her, and of those ample architectural proportions that in women who are not duchesses are described by contemporary historians as stoutness. Next to her sat, on her right, Sir Thomas Burdon, a Radical member of Parliament, who followed his leader in public life and in private life followed the best cooks, dining with the Tories and thinking with the Liberals, in accordance with a wise and well-known rule.

The post on her left was occupied by Mr. Erskine of Treadley, an old gentleman of considerable charm and culture, who had fallen, however, into bad habits of silence, having, as he explained once to Lady Agatha, said everything that he had to say before he was thirty. His own neighbour was Mrs. Vandeleur, one of his aunt's oldest friends, a perfect saint amongst women, but so dreadfully dowdy that she reminded one of a badly bound hymn-book.

Fortunately for him she had on the other side Lord Faudel, a most intelligent middle-aged mediocrity, as bald as a ministerial statement in the House of Commons, with whom she was conversing in that intensely earnest manner which is the one unpardonable error, as he remarked once himself, that all really good people fall into, and from which none of them ever quite escape.

Oscar Wilde "How dreadful! What are American dry-goods? The duchess looked puzzled. Like all people who try to exhaust a subject, he exhausted his listeners. The duchess sighed and exercised her privilege of interruption. It is most unfair. Erskine; "I myself would say that it had merely been detected. And they dress well, too.

They get all their dresses in Paris. I wish I could afford to do the same. And where do bad Americans go to when they die? I assure you that it is an education to visit it. Erskine of Treadley has the world on his shelves. We practical men like to see things, not to read about them. The Americans are an extremely interesting people. They are absolutely reasonable. I think that is their distinguishing characteristic. Erskine, an absolutely reasonable people. I assure you there is no nonsense about the Americans.

There is something unfair about its use. It is hitting below the intellect. Erskine, with a smile. Well, the way of paradoxes is the way of truth. To test reality we must see it on the tight rope. When the verities become acrobats, we can judge them. I am sure I never can make out what you are talking about.

Harry, I am quite vexed with you. Why do you try to persuade our nice Mr. Dorian Gray to give up the East End? I assure you he would be quite invaluable. They would love his playing. It is too ugly, too horrible, too distressing. There is something terribly morbid in the modern German acrobats: Oscar Wilde 41 sympathy with pain.

One should sympathize with the colour, the beauty, the joy of life. The less said about life's sores, the better. But, as the nineteenth century has gone bankrupt through an over-expenditure of sympathy, I would suggest that we should appeal to science to put us straight. The advantage of the emotions is that they lead us astray, and the advantage of science is that it is not emotional. Lord Henry looked over at Mr. It is the world's original sin.

If the caveman had known how to laugh, history would have been different.

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