The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (359 page)

DUKE SENIOR

Now, my co-mates and brothers in exile,

Hath not old custom made this life more sweet

Than that of painted pomp? Are not these woods

More free from peril than the envious court?

Here feel we but the penalty of Adam,

The seasons' difference, as the icy fang

And churlish chiding of the winter's wind,

Which, when it bites and blows upon my body,

Even till I shrink with cold, I smile and say

'This is no flattery: these are counsellors

That feelingly persuade me what I am.'

Sweet are the uses of adversity,

Which, like the toad, ugly and venomous,

Wears yet a precious jewel in his head;

And this our life exempt from public haunt

Finds tongues in trees, books in the running brooks,

Sermons in stones and good in every thing.

I would not change it.

Now, my friends and brothers in exile with me,

hasn’t the comparison with our old life made this one even better

than that in the royal courts? Aren’t these woods

safer and freer than life was there, where everyone was jealous?

Here, we only face the consequences from Adam’s sin:

the changing seasons, the coldness

and the icy cruelty of winter’s wind.

The wind blows and bites our bodies

until we hunch over to protect against the cold, but even then, I must smile and think,

“This is much different than the flattery of the courts: this wind is an advisor

that tells me exactly who I am.”

Adversity and hardship can have positives,

like an ugly, venomous toad

who is still fabled to have a jewel in his head.

Our life here is free from the public needs

and instead we can listen to trees, read the streams,

listen to sermons from stones, and find the good in everything.

I would not change our situation.

AMIENS

Happy is your grace,

That can translate the stubbornness of fortune

Into so quiet and so sweet a style.

You grace is blessed

that you can turn such bad fortune

into such a quiet and sweet lifestyle.

DUKE SENIOR

Come, shall we go and kill us venison?

And yet it irks me the poor dappled fools,

Being native burghers of this desert city,

Should in their own confines with forked heads

Have their round haunches gored.

Should we go and hunt some deer?

Still, it does upset me that those poor spotted fools

who are the native citizens of this deserted city

should in their own homes

be gored with arrows in their sides.

First Lord

Indeed, my lord,

The melancholy Jaques grieves at that,

And, in that kind, swears you do more usurp

Than doth your brother that hath banish'd you.

To-day my Lord of Amiens and myself

Did steal behind him as he lay along

Under an oak whose antique root peeps out

Upon the brook that brawls along this wood:

To the which place a poor sequester'd stag,

That from the hunter's aim had ta'en a hurt,

Did come to languish, and indeed, my lord,

The wretched animal heaved forth such groans

That their discharge did stretch his leathern coat

Almost to bursting, and the big round tears

Coursed one another down his innocent nose

In piteous chase; and thus the hairy fool

Much marked of the melancholy Jaques,

Stood on the extremest verge of the swift brook,

Augmenting it with tears.

Yes, my lord,

and sad Jacques cries over it.

He even swears that you do more usurping here

than your brother did when he banished you.

Today, the Lord of Amiens and myself

quietly came up behind him as he was laying

beneath an oak tree whose old root sticks out of the ground

near a stream that runs along the forest.

There, a poor, cornered stag,

hurt from a hunter’s bow and arrow,

had come to lay in pain – truly, my lord,

the damned animal groaned so loudly and heavily

that when it groaned, it stretched its body

almost until it burst. Big round tears

fell down his innocent nose,

chasing after each other, as the hairy beast,

watched closely by sad Jacques,

stood close the edge of the stream

and filled it with its own tears.

DUKE SENIOR

But what said Jaques?

Did he not moralize this spectacle?

But did Jacques said anything?

He must have made a moral of the scene.

First Lord

O, yes, into a thousand similes.

First, for his weeping into the needless stream;

'Poor deer,' quoth he, 'thou makest a testament

As worldlings do, giving thy sum of more

To that which had too much:' then, being there alone,

Left and abandon'd of his velvet friends,

''Tis right:' quoth he; 'thus misery doth part

The flux of company:' anon a careless herd,

Full of the pasture, jumps along by him

And never stays to greet him; 'Ay' quoth Jaques,

'Sweep on, you fat and greasy citizens;

'Tis just the fashion: wherefore do you look

Upon that poor and broken bankrupt there?'

Thus most invectively he pierceth through

The body of the country, city, court,

Yea, and of this our life, swearing that we

Are mere usurpers, tyrants and what's worse,

To fright the animals and to kill them up

In their assign'd and native dwelling-place.

O yes, and he compared it to a thousand other things.

First he talked about the deer weeping into the stream

and said, “Poor deer, you testify

just like a human, giving more

to that which already has too much.” Then, on the deer being alone

and abandoned by his velvet furred friends,

said, “It is right for a miserable creature

to leave the company of its friends.” Immediately then a careless herd,

filled with pasture grass, jumped by him

but did not stop at all, and Jacques said, “Yes,

run on, you fat and ugly citizens:

that’s exactly what happens – why would you stop and look

at this poor and broken one here?”

In this way he angrily pierced

the body of the country, city, court,

and even our very lives by swearing that we

are usurpers and tryants

that frighten the animals and seek to kill them

in their own, native homes.

DUKE SENIOR

And did you leave him in this contemplation?

Did you leave him as he was thinking this?

Second Lord

We did, my lord, weeping and commenting

Upon the sobbing deer.

We did, my lord. We left as he was weeping and talking

about the also-crying deer.

DUKE SENIOR

Show me the place:

I love to cope him in these sullen fits,

For then he's full of matter.

Show me where he is.

I love to talk with him when he is sad like this

because he is full of things to say.

First Lord

I'll bring you to him straight.

I’ll bring you right to him.

Exeunt

`Enter DUKE FREDERICK, with Lords

DUKE FREDERICK

Can it be possible that no man saw them?

It cannot be: some villains of my court

Are of consent and sufferance in this.

Is it possible that no one saw them?

That can’t be: some scoundrels in the court

must have consented to their plan and let it happen.

First Lord

I cannot hear of any that did see her.

The ladies, her attendants of her chamber,

Saw her abed, and in the morning early

They found the bed untreasured of their mistress.

I haven’t heard of anyone who saw her.

Her bedroom attendants

saw her go to bed, and early this morning

they found the bed empty, without their mistress in it.

Second Lord

My lord, the roynish clown, at whom so oft

Your grace was wont to laugh, is also missing.

Hisperia, the princess' gentlewoman,

Confesses that she secretly o'erheard

Your daughter and her cousin much commend

The parts and graces of the wrestler

That did but lately foil the sinewy Charles;

And she believes, wherever they are gone,

That youth is surely in their company.

My lord, that mangy clown, whom so often

you laughed at, is also gone.

Hisperia, the princess’ gentlewoman,

has confessed that she secretly overheard

your daughter and her cousin praise

the appearance and the movements of the wrestler

who recently overthrew the strong Charles.

She believes that wherever they have gone,

the young wrestler is in their company.

DUKE FREDERICK

Send to his brother; fetch that gallant hither;

If he be absent, bring his brother to me;

I'll make him find him: do this suddenly,

And let not search and inquisition quail

To bring again these foolish runaways.

Send someone to his brother and fetch that dandy Orlando here –

and if he is gone, bring Oliver to me.

I’ll make him find Orlando. Do this quickly,

and do not stop searching and investigating

until you bring back these foolish runaways.

Exeunt