* chap-

отвисший, болтающийся

(пр. непереходной ф.) (о коже или губах), чтобы стать грубой, сухой или безжизненной, особенно из-за ветра или холодной погоды.

Например:

His skin is very dry and chaps easily.

Его кожа очень сухая и легко болтается.

Оксфордский Большой словарь в 12-ти томах изд.1928 (Oxford English Dictionary, OED).

 — Confer! С фрагментом перевода встречи Ричарда III с леди Энн на могиле её мужа, где она прощает его за убийство отца, мужа сына Эдуарда и самого Эдуарда, заключённого в темнице. Выразительно яркий образ всепрощающей силы любви леди Энн, которую коварный Ричард III воспринимает за простодушие и наивность.

________________

Original text by William Shakespeare «History of Richard III»: Act I, Scene 2.

Lady Anne.

I would I were, to be revenged on thee.

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester).

It is a quarrel most unnatural

To be revenged on him that loveth thee.

Lady Anne.

It is a quarrel just and reasonable

To be revenged on him that killed my husband.

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester).

He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband

Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Lady Anne.

His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester).

He lives that loves thee better than he could.

Lady Anne.

Name him.

.....

.....

.....

Richard III (Duke of Gloucester).

No, to Whitefriars. There attend my coming.

Was ever woman in this humor wooed?

Was ever woman in this humor won?

I’ll have her, but I will not keep her long.

What, I that killed her husband and his father,

To take her in her heart’s extremest hate,

With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,

The bleeding witness of my hatred by,

Having God, her conscience, and these bars against

me,

And I no friends to back my suit at all

But the plain devil and dissembling looks?

And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!

Ha!

Hath she forgot already that brave prince,

Edward, her lord, whom I some three months since

Stabbed in my angry mood at Tewkesbury?

A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman,

Framed in the prodigality of nature,

Young, valiant, wise, and, no doubt, right royal,

The spacious world cannot again afford.

And will she yet abase her eyes on me,

That cropped the golden prime of this sweet prince

And made her widow to a woeful bed?

On me, whose all not equals Edward’s moiety?

On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?

My dukedom to a beggarly denier,

I do mistake my person all this while!

Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,

Myself to be a marv’lous proper man.

I’ll be at charges for a looking glass

And entertain a score or two of tailors

To study fashions to adorn my body.

Since I am crept in favor with myself,