The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (361 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
2.01Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

CORIN

That is the way to make her scorn you still.

 

But doing that is how you will make her continue to dislike you.

 

SILVIUS

O Corin, that thou knew'st how I do love her!

 

O Corin, if only you knew how much I love her!

 

CORIN

I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.

 

I can guess, since I used to be in love once.

 

SILVIUS

No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess,

Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover

As ever sigh'd upon a midnight pillow:

But if thy love were ever like to mine--

As sure I think did never man love so--

How many actions most ridiculous

Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?

 

No, Corin, you are old and so you can’t really guess.

If in your youth you were as in love as a lover

who cries into his pillow late at night,

and if your love was ever as strong as mine –

which I think no love ever was –

then how many ridiculous actions

did you do out of your fantasies?

 

CORIN

Into a thousand that I have forgotten.

 

Thousands that I have forgotten.

 

SILVIUS

O, thou didst then ne'er love so heartily!

If thou remember'st not the slightest folly

That ever love did make thee run into,

Thou hast not loved:

Or if thou hast not sat as I do now,

Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress' praise,

Thou hast not loved:

Or if thou hast not broke from company

Abruptly, as my passion now makes me,

Thou hast not loved.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

 

Then you never loved as strong as I do!

If you do not remember the slightest foolish action

that you ever did because of your love,

than you have not truly loved.

Or, if you have not sat like this,

tiring your listener with praise for your mistress,

than you have not truly loved.

Or if you have not left the company of others

abruptly, as my feelings made me do,

than you have not truly loved.

O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!

 

Exit

 

ROSALIND

Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound,

I have by hard adventure found mine own.

 

O, poor shepherd! What you have said about your heartache

reminds me of my own.

 

TOUCHSTONE

And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke

my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for

coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the

kissing of her batlet and the cow's dugs that her

pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the

wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took

two cods and, giving her them again, said with

weeping tears 'Wear these for my sake.' We that are

true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is

mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.

 

It reminds me of mine, too. I remember when I was in love, and I broke

my sword on a stone and told it, “Take that!” for

seeing my love, Jane Smile, at night. I also

kissed both her laundry washing stick and the cow udders, which

she touched with her pretty hands. And I remember

wooing a pea plant in her name, and then taking

two pea pods and giving them to her, begging

while crying, “Wear these for my sake.” We who are

true lovers will do strange things – but everything

is mortal, even the foolishness of love.

 

ROSALIND

Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.

 

You are saying wiser things than you know.

 

TOUCHSTONE

Nay, I shall ne'er be ware of mine own wit till I

break my shins against it.

 

I’ll never know my own wit until I

break my shins against it.

 

ROSALIND

Jove, Jove! this shepherd's passion

Is much upon my fashion.

 

Oh, God! This shepherd’s love

is very much like my own state.

 

TOUCHSTONE

And mine; but it grows something stale with me.

 

And mine – but I am beginning to get over it.

 

CELIA

I pray you, one of you question yond man

If he for gold will give us any food:

I faint almost to death.

 

Please, one of you ask that man

if he will sell us any food:

I feel like I will faint.

 

TOUCHSTONE

Holla, you clown!

 

Hello! You clown!

 

ROSALIND

Peace, fool: he's not thy kinsman.

 

Be quiet, you fool: he is not related to you.

 

CORIN

Who calls?

 

Who is calling?

 

TOUCHSTONE

Your betters, sir.

 

Those better than you, sir.

 

CORIN

Else are they very wretched.

 

If they weren’t, they would be very wretched.

 

ROSALIND

Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.

 

Be quiet, Touchstone. Good evening, friend.

 

CORIN

And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.

 

And to you, gentle sir, and all of you.

 

ROSALIND

I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold

Can in this desert place buy entertainment,

Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed:

Here's a young maid with travel much oppress'd

And faints for succor.

 

Please, shepherd, I would like to know if love or money

can in this foreign and deserted place get us anything here.

If so, take us to where we can rest and find food –

this young lady is tired from a lot of traveling

and is faint with hunger.

 

CORIN

Fair sir, I pity her

And wish, for her sake more than for mine own,

My fortunes were more able to relieve her;

But I am shepherd to another man

And do not shear the fleeces that I graze:

My master is of churlish disposition

And little recks to find the way to heaven

By doing deeds of hospitality:

Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed

Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now,

By reason of his absence, there is nothing

That you will feed on; but what is, come see.

And in my voice most welcome shall you be.

 

Good sir, I pity her

and wish for her sake, not for my own benefit,

that I was fortunate enough to be able to help her.

But I am a shepherd, hired by another man,

and I do not profit from the sheep that I watch.

My master is a mean-spirited man

and does not care about finding a path to heaven

through good works of hospitality.

Besides, his house, his flocks, and his feed for the sheep

are all on sale, and so at the cottage,

since he is gone, there is nothing

to eat. But whatever is there you can have, come and see what is left.

You are most welcome.

 

ROSALIND

What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?

 

Who is buying his flock and pasture?

 

CORIN

That young swain that you saw here but erewhile,

That little cares for buying any thing.

 

The young man whom you saw here a moment ago,

though he doesn’t really about buying anything.

 

ROSALIND

I pray thee, if it stand with honesty,

Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock,

And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.

 

Please, if it can be done honestly,

buy the cottage, pasture, and flock for us,

and we will pay you for it.

 

CELIA

And we will mend thy wages. I like this place.

And willingly could waste my time in it.

 

We will also increase your wages. I like it this place

and can would like to waste my time here.

 

CORIN

Assuredly the thing is to be sold:

Go with me: if you like upon report

The soil, the profit and this kind of life,

I will your very faithful feeder be

And buy it with your gold right suddenly.

 

Truly, the place is going to be sold.

Come with me and if you like how

the soil looks, and the profit you think can be had, and this way of life,

then I will be a faithful servant

and will buy it with your money right away.

 

Exeunt

 

 

Enter AMIENS, JAQUES, and others.

 

AMIENS

singing

Under the greenwood tree

Who loves to lie with me,

And turn his merry note

Unto the sweet bird's throat,

Come hither, come hither, come hither:

Here shall he see No enemy

But winter and rough weather.

 

Under the greenwood tree

whoever wants to lie with me

and sing the song

that comes from the sweet bird’s throat,

come here, come here, come here.

Here there will be no enemy

except winter and rough weather.

 

JAQUES

More, more, I prithee, more.

 

More, more, please, sing more.

 

AMIENS

It will make you melancholy, Monsieur Jaques.

 

It will make you sad, Mister Jacques.

 

JAQUES

I thank it. More, I prithee, more. I can suck

melancholy out of a song, as a weasel sucks eggs.

More, I prithee, more.

 

I welcome it. Please, sing more. I can suck

sadness from a song like a weasel can suck eggs.

Sing more, please.

 

AMIENS

My voice is ragged: I know I cannot please you.

Other books

Darkness at Noon by Arthur Koestler, Daphne Hardy
Calico Pennants by David A. Ross
World of Ashes by Robinson, J.K.
A Deadly Compulsion by Michael Kerr
What He Craves by Tawny Taylor
The Magicians' Guild by Canavan, Trudi
A Dark and Twisted Tide by Sharon Bolton
Get Out or Die by Jane Finnis
Lady Lavender by Lynna Banning