Det finns lite småsmygiga idéer om att Marlowe och Shakespeare egentligen var samma person. Jag har svårt att tro det för jag släääääpade mig igenom Marlowes Edward II, jag höll på att DÖ av uttråkning. Det gjorde jag inte med någon av Shakespeares pjäser.
Men – denna dikten dök upp i en kurs jag läste innan jag ens läste Edward II – så där har vi den. Ni har säkert läst den förut!
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Come live with me and be my love,
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And we will all the pleasures prove
That valleys, groves, hills, and fields,
Woods, or steepy mountain yields.
And we will sit upon rocks,
Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks,
By shallow rivers to whose falls
Melodious birds sing madrigals.
And I will make thee beds of roses
And a thousand fragrant poises,
A cap of flowers, and a kirtle
Embroidered all with leaves of myrtle;
A gown made of the finest wool
Which from our pretty lambs we pull;
Fair lined slippers for the cold,
With buckles of the purest gold;
A belt of straw and ivy buds,
With coral clasps and amber studs;
And if these pleasures may thee move,
Come live with me, and be my love.
The shepherds’s swains shall dance and sing
For thy delight each May morning:
If these delights thy mind may move,
Then live with me and be my love.
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Stories from the city, stories from the sea 