The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (1047 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
7.43Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

Let me behold thy face. Surely, this man

Was born of woman.

Forgive my general and exceptless rashness,

You perpetual-sober gods! I do proclaim

One honest man--mistake me not--but one;

No more, I pray,--and he's a steward.

How fain would I have hated all mankind!

And thou redeem'st thyself: but all, save thee,

I fell with curses.

Methinks thou art more honest now than wise;

For, by oppressing and betraying me,

Thou mightst have sooner got another service:

For many so arrive at second masters,

Upon their first lord's neck. But tell me true--

For I must ever doubt, though ne'er so sure--

Is not thy kindness subtle, covetous,

If not a usuring kindness, and, as rich men deal gifts,

Expecting in return twenty for one?

 

Did I have a steward

who was so true, so just, and is now so comforting?

This almost calms my anger.

Let me see your face. Surely, this is a man

born of a woman.

Forgive my indiscriminate anger,

you always sensible gods! I announce that there is

one honest man–don't misunderstand me–there's only one;

no more, I hope–and he's a steward.

How much I wanted to hate all mankind!

You have redeemed yourself, but I strike all the rest

with curses.

I think you've got more honesty than sense now;

for, by oppressing and betraying me,

you might soon have got another job:

so many get service with their second masters

by betraying their first lords. But tell me truthfully–

for I must always doubt, however sure I am–

isn't your kindness cunning, greedy,

the kindness of a moneylender, given as rich men give gifts,

expecting twenty in return for one?

 

FLAVIUS

No, my most worthy master; in whose breast

Doubt and suspect, alas, are placed too late:

You should have fear'd false times when you did feast:

Suspect still comes where an estate is least.

That which I show, heaven knows, is merely love,

Duty and zeal to your unmatched mind,

Care of your food and living; and, believe it,

My most honour'd lord,

For any benefit that points to me,

Either in hope or present, I'ld exchange

For this one wish, that you had power and wealth

To requite me, by making rich yourself.

 

No, my most worthy master; in whose heart

doubt and suspicion have, alas, come too late:

you should have feared betrayal when you were feasting:

men are always suspicious when they are lowest.

What I'm showing, heaven knows, is only love,

duty and loyalty to your noble mind,

taking care of your food and your needs; and believe me,

my most honoured lord,

if there were any benefits which I could get,

either now or in the future, I'd exchange them

for one wish, which would be that you had the power and wealth

to repay me, because you were rich yourself.

 

TIMON

Look thee, 'tis so! Thou singly honest man,

Here, take: the gods out of my misery

Have sent thee treasure. Go, live rich and happy;

But thus condition'd: thou shalt build from men;

Hate all, curse all, show charity to none,

But let the famish'd flesh slide from the bone,

Ere thou relieve the beggar; give to dogs

What thou deny'st to men; let prisons swallow 'em,

Debts wither 'em to nothing; be men like

blasted woods,

And may diseases lick up their false bloods!

And so farewell and thrive.

 

You see, it's so! You one honest man,

here, take this: through my misery the gods

have sent you treasure. Go, live a rich and happy life;

but on this condition: that you live away from men;

hate them all, curse them all, don't give any charity to anyone,

let the starving flesh fall off the bone

before you help the beggar; give dogs

things that you won't give to men; let the prisons swallow them,

debts starve them down to nothing; let them be like

dead woods,

and may diseases consume their false blood!

And so farewell, good luck.

 

FLAVIUS

O, let me stay,

And comfort you, my master.

 

O, let me stay,

and comfort you, my master.

 

TIMON

If thou hatest curses,

Stay not; fly, whilst thou art blest and free:

Ne'er see thou man, and let me ne'er see thee.

 

If you hate being cursed,

don't stay here; run, while you are blessed and free:

don't associate with any men, and don't let me see you again.

 

Exit FLAVIUS. TIMON retires to his cave

 

 

 

Enter Poet and Painter; TIMON watching them from his cave

 

Painter

As I took note of the place, it cannot be far where

he abides.

 

As far as I remember, his place can't be far

from here.

 

Poet

What's to be thought of him? does the rumour hold

for true, that he's so full of gold?

 

What should we think of him? Is the rumour true,

that he is stuffed with gold?

 

Painter

Certain: Alcibiades reports it; Phrynia and

Timandra had gold of him: he likewise enriched poor

straggling soldiers with great quantity: 'tis said

he gave unto his steward a mighty sum.

 

It's certain: Alcibiades says so; Phrynia and

Timandra had gold from him: he also gave

a large amount to some  vagabond soldiers: it's said

he gave a huge sum to his steward.

 

Poet

Then this breaking of his has been but a try for his friends.

 

Then this bankruptcy of his has just been a test for his friends.

 

Painter

Nothing else: you shall see him a palm in Athens

again, and flourish with the highest. Therefore

'tis not amiss we tender our loves to him, in this

supposed distress of his: it will show honestly in

us; and is very likely to load our purposes with

what they travail for, if it be a just true report

that goes of his having.

 

That's all: you'll see him standing tall in Athens

again, and succeeding with the highest. So

it's not a bad thing to offer him our love, in this

faked distress of his: it will make us look loyal;

it will very likely help us to get the rewards

we want, if what they say about him having

a fortune still is true.

 

Poet

What have you now to present unto him?

 

What have you got to give to him?

 

Painter

Nothing at this time but my visitation: only I will

promise him an excellent piece.

 

Only my company at this time: but I will

promise to do him an excellent painting.

 

Poet

I must serve him so too, tell him of an intent

that's coming toward him.

 

I must do the same, tell him of something

I mean to do for him in the future.

 

Painter

Good as the best. Promising is the very air o' the

time: it opens the eyes of expectation:

performance is ever the duller for his act; and,

but in the plainer and simpler kind of people, the

deed of saying is quite out of use. To promise is

most courtly and fashionable: performance is a kind

of will or testament which argues a great sickness

in his judgment that makes it.

 

That's as good as the best thing you could give him.

Making promises is what it's all about these days: it

gets people expectant. Doing something seems dull; and,

except for plain and simple people, doing what one says

one will is quite out of fashion. Promising is very

posh and fashionable: actually doing is like making

a will, a thing which is only done by people who

are very sick.

 

TIMON comes from his cave, behind

 

TIMON

[Aside] Excellent workman! thou canst not paint a

man so bad as is thyself.

 

Excellent workman! You can't paint a

man as bad as you are yourself.

 

Poet

I am thinking what I shall say I have provided for

him: it must be a personating of himself; a satire

against the softness of prosperity, with a discovery

of the infinite flatteries that follow youth and opulency.

 

I am thinking of what I will say I have ready for

him: it must be a picture of himself; a satire

against the softness of wealth, showing

all the flatteries that go with youth and riches.

 

TIMON

[Aside] Must thou needs stand for a villain in

thine own work? wilt thou whip thine own faults in

other men? Do so, I have gold for thee.

 

Do you need to show yourself as a villain in

your own work? Will you castigate other men

for your own faults? Do so, I have gold for you.

 

Poet

Nay, let's seek him:

Then do we sin against our own estate,

When we may profit meet, and come too late.

Other books

Sacrificing Virgins by John Everson
The Copper City by Chris Scott Wilson
A Tiny Bit Marvellous by French, Dawn
The Sweetheart Rules by Shirley Jump
The Odyssey of Ben O'Neal by Theodore Taylor
The Island House by Posie Graeme-Evans
Bohanin's Last Days by Randy D. Smith
By Private Invitation by Stephanie Julian