"Stoppard, Tom - Rosencrantz & Guildenstern Are Dead v0.5" - читать интересную книгу автора (Stoppard Tom)

GUIL: Not a flicker of doubt?

ROS (aggrieved, aggressive): Well, I won----didn't I?

GUIL (approaches him---quieter): And if you'd lost? If they'd come down against you, eighty-five times, one after another, just like that?

ROS (dumbly): Eighty-five in a row? Tails?

GUIL: Yes! What would you think?

ROS (doubtfully): Well .... (Jocularly.) Well, I'd have a good look at your coins for a start!

GUIL (retiring): I'm relieved. At least we can still count on self-interest as a predictable factor. . . . I suppose it's the last to go. Your capacity for trust made me wonder if perhaps ... you, alone ... (He turns on him suddenly, reaches out a hand.) Touch.

ROS clasps his hand. GUIL pulls him up to him.

GUIL (more intensely): We have been spinning coins together since--- (He releases him almost as violently.) This is not the first time we have spun coins!

ROS: Oh no---we've been spinning coins for as long as I remember.

GUIL: How long is that?

ROS: I forget. Mind you---eighty-five times!

GUIL: Yes?

ROS: It'll take some beating, I imagine.

GUIL: Is that what you imagine? Is that it? No fear?

ROS: Fear?

GUIL (in fury----flings a coin on the ground): Fear! The crack 4 might flood your brain with light!

ROS: Heads.... (He puts it in his bag.)

GUIL sits despondently. He takes a coin, spins it, lets it fall between his feet. He looks at it, picks it up, throws it to ROS who puts it in his bag. GUIL takes another coin, spins it, catches it, turns it over to his other hand, looks at it, and throws it to ROS, who pun in his bag. GUIL takes a third coin, spins it, catches it in his right hat turns it over onto his left wrist, lobs it in the air, catches it with his left hand, raises his left leg, throws the coil? up under it, catches it and turns it over on the top of his head, where it sits. ROS comes, looks at it, puts it in his bag.

ROS: I'm afraid

GUIL: So am I.

ROS: I'm afraid it isn't your day.

GUIL: I'm afraid it is.

Small pause.

ROS: Eighty-nine.