"George Gordon, Lord Byron. The deformed transformed " - читать интересную книгу автора

Stran.
Your thoughts
Are not far from me. Do not send me back:
I'm not so easily recalled to do
Good service.

Arn.
What wilt thou do for me?

Stran.
Change
Shapes with you, if you will, since yours so irks you;
Or form you to your wish in any shape.

Arn.
Oh! then you are indeed the Demon, for
Nought else would wittingly wear mine.

Stran.
I'll show thee
The brightest which the world e'er bore, and give thee
Thy choice.

Arn.
On what condition?

Stran.
There's a question!
An hour ago you would have given your soul
To look like other men, and now you pause
To wear the form of heroes.

Arn.
No; I will not.
I must not compromise my soul.

Stran.
What soul,
Worth naming so, would dwell in such a carcase?

Arn.
'Tis an aspiring one, whate'er the tenement
In which it is mislodged. But name your compact:
Must it be signed in blood?

Stran.
Not in your own.

Arn.
Whose blood then?