The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (363 page)

and cursed Lady Fortune jokingly,

in clever words, though still surely a clown.

“Good day, fool,” I said. “No, sir,” he replied,

“Do not call me a fool until heaven has sent me a fortune.”

Then he pulled a watch from his bag

and, looking on it with a dim eye,

said wisely, “It is ten o’clock:

and thus we can see how the world moves.

Only an hour ago it was nine,

and an hour later it will be eleven.

And so on, from hour to hour, we grow and we ripen,

and then, from hour to hour, we get old, and we rot,

and there is a story to that.” When I heard

this motley wearing fool moralize time,

I crowed and laughed like a rooster,

that clowns should be so contemplative.

I laughed without pause

an hour by his watch. O noble fool!

A worthy clown! Motley is the only thing he should wear.

DUKE SENIOR

What fool is this?

What fool is this?

JAQUES

O worthy fool! One that hath been a courtier,

And says, if ladies be but young and fair,

They have the gift to know it: and in his brain,

Which is as dry as the remainder biscuit

After a voyage, he hath strange places cramm'd

With observation, the which he vents

In mangled forms. O that I were a fool!

I am ambitious for a motley coat.

A worthy one! He used to be a courtier

and said “If ladies are young and beautiful,

they always know it.” In his brain,

which is dry like a biscuit

on a ship and thus not impressed by much, are strange facts

and crammed in observations, which he speaks

in twisted ways. O if I were a clown!

DUKE SENIOR

Thou shalt have one.

You could be one.

JAQUES

It is my only suit;

Provided that you weed your better judgments

Of all opinion that grows rank in them

That I am wise. I must have liberty

Withal, as large a charter as the wind,

To blow on whom I please; for so fools have;

And they that are most galled with my folly,

They most must laugh. And why, sir, must they so?

The 'why' is plain as way to parish church:

He that a fool doth very wisely hit

Doth very foolishly, although he smart,

Not to seem senseless of the bob: if not,

The wise man's folly is anatomized

Even by the squandering glances of the fool.

Invest me in my motley; give me leave

To speak my mind, and I will through and through

Cleanse the foul body of the infected world,

If they will patiently receive my medicine.

That is my only case,

as long as then you remove any judgments

and opinions that you have

that I am wise. I must have freedom,

as much as the wind gets,

to blow on and mock whomever I please, just as clowns may.

They that are most offended by my jokes

must laugh hardest. And why is that?

Well that is as plain as the path to a small country church:

whoever a fool wisely makes fun of

would be acting very foolishly, though otherwise smart,

if he didn’t act like the joke didn’t affect him. If he didn’t,

then the foolish action of the wise man would be seen and scrutinized

by even the silly work of the clown.

Give me a motley costume, and give me permission

to speak my mind, and I will, through and through

clean the sick body of the infections surrounding it,

as long as my patients will patiently take the medicine I give them.

DUKE SENIOR

Fie on thee! I can tell what thou wouldst do.

Curse you! I know what you would do.

JAQUES

What, for a counter, would I do but good?

What would I do except good things?

DUKE SENIOR

Most mischievous foul sin, in chiding sin:

For thou thyself hast been a libertine,

As sensual as the brutish sting itself;

And all the embossed sores and headed evils,

That thou with licence of free foot hast caught,

Wouldst thou disgorge into the general world.

A most evil, disgusting sin, by rebuking sin.

You yourself have been a rake and a lecher,

as lustful as the sting of lust itself.

And now, all of the diseased sores and evils

that you in your freedom caught,

you want to find in others in the whole world.

JAQUES

Why, who cries out on pride,

That can therein tax any private party?

Doth it not flow as hugely as the sea,

Till that the weary very means do ebb?

What woman in the city do I name,

When that I say the city-woman bears

The cost of princes on unworthy shoulders?

Who can come in and say that I mean her,

When such a one as she such is her neighbour?

Or what is he of basest function

That says his bravery is not of my cost,

Thinking that I mean him, but therein suits

His folly to the mettle of my speech?

There then; how then? what then? Let me see wherein

My tongue hath wrong'd him: if it do him right,

Then he hath wrong'd himself; if he be free,

Why then my taxing like a wild-goose flies,

Unclaim'd of any man. But who comes here?

But, if I speak out against pride,

am I singling out some individual?

Or rather does pride flow as greatly as the sea itself,

until it wearily reaches the very edges of the sea?

What woman in the city have I named

when I say that the city-woman wears

clothes that cost princely amounts on her unworthy shoulders?

Who can come to me and say that I am talking about her

when her neighbors are just like she is?

And who is that base coward

who says that his bravery is not my concern,

thinking that I talk about him: doesn’t he claim

his own foolishness by thinking that I do?

Well, then how? And now what? Show me where

I have spoken wrong of him. If my words end up rebuking him,

then he was wrong in the first place, and if he is free from such rebuke,

then my words fly away like wild geese,

owned by no man. Who is it that is coming?

Enter ORLANDO, with his sword drawn

ORLANDO

Forbear, and eat no more.

Stop, and don’t eat anything more.

JAQUES

Why, I have eat none yet.

But I have not eaten anything yet.

ORLANDO

Nor shalt not, till necessity be served.

And you won’t, until what I need is served.

JAQUES

Of what kind should this cock come of?

What kind of fighting rooster is this?

DUKE SENIOR

Art thou thus bolden'd, man, by thy distress,

Or else a rude despiser of good manners,

That in civility thou seem'st so empty?

Is your boldness from distress

or because you are a rude man who despises good manners,

that you seem so lacking of politeness.

ORLANDO

You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point

Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show

Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred

And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:

He dies that touches any of this fruit

Till I and my affairs are answered.

You had it right with the first guess. The thorn

of my distress has taken from me my

smooth manners. Yet, I was bred in the city

and do know how to be civil. But stop, I say:

Whoever touched this fruit

until my affairs are answered will die.

JAQUES

An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.

If these affairs will not be answered with reason, I will have to die.

DUKE SENIOR

What would you have? Your gentleness shall force

More than your force move us to gentleness.

What would you like? Being a gentleman would force

more from us than your force would make us gentle.

ORLANDO

I almost die for food; and let me have it.

I am dying from hunger – let me have it.

DUKE SENIOR

Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

Sit down and eat, and welcome to our table.

ORLANDO

Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:

I thought that all things had been savage here;

And therefore put I on the countenance

Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are

That in this desert inaccessible,

Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time

If ever you have look'd on better days,

If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,

If ever sat at any good man's feast,

If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear

And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied,

Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:

In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

Why do you speak so nicely to me? Excuse me, please.

I thought that everything here was savage,

so I put on an act

of sternness and strength. But whoever you are

in this inaccessible and deserted place,

where you sit under the shade of sad trees

and lose track of the time,

if you have ever known better days

or have been to church where the bells rang,

if you ever sat at a nobleman’s feast,

or if you have ever wiped a tear from you eye

and thus know what it is like to pity and be pitied,

than let my manners be a strong persuader,

and in that hope I will feel ashamed and put my sword away.

DUKE SENIOR

True is it that we have seen better days,

And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church

And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes

Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:

And therefore sit you down in gentleness

And take upon command what help we have

That to your wanting may be minister'd.

It is true that we have seen better days

and have been to church where the bells rang

and have sat at noblemen’s feasts and wiped our eyes

of tears that came from holy pity.

Therefore, sit down nicely

and take whatever help we have

that we can provide to your needs.

ORLANDO

Then but forbear your food a little while,

Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn

And give it food. There is an old poor man,

Who after me hath many a weary step