The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (364 page)

Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed,

Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,

I will not touch a bit.

Then please stop eating for a moment

while I, like a doe, find my fawn

and give it food. A poor old man

has followed me in every tired step

and limped along from his love for me. Until he is satisfied,

since he is afflicted by two weaknesses – age and hunger –

I will not eat.

DUKE SENIOR

Go find him out,

And we will nothing waste till you return.

Go find him

and we will not eat until you return.

ORLANDO

I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!

Thank you, and bless you for your hospitality!

Exit

DUKE SENIOR

Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:

This wide and universal theatre

Presents more woeful pageants than the scene

Wherein we play in.

You see, we are not all unhappy and alone:

this wide and universal theater

has more sad plays than only the scene

that we are in.

JAQUES

All the world's a stage,

And all the men and women merely players:

They have their exits and their entrances;

And one man in his time plays many parts,

His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

And shining morning face, creeping like snail

Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,

Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

Seeking the bubble reputation

Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

In fair round belly with good capon lined,

With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

Full of wise saws and modern instances;

And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,

His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

That ends this strange eventful history,

Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

The whole world is a stage

and men and women are just players.

They have their exits and entrances,

and one man plays many parts in his time,

seven different acts of live. First he is an infant,

crying and puking in the nurse’s arms,

and then he is a whining schoolboy, with his bag

and his shining morning face, going as slow as a snail

to school, unwillingly. Then he is a lover,

sighing like a furnace and singing sad songs

about his mistress’s eyebrow. Then he is a soldier,

swearing strangely and bearded like a panther,

jealous of his honor and quick to fight,

looking for his reputation, as fragile as a bubble,

even looking in the mouth of a cannon. Then he is a judge,

with a fat belly full of chicken,

and serious eyes, and a formally trimmed beard,

full of wise sayings and relevant stories –

that’s how he plays this part. In the sixth part,

he is a thin and slipper-wearing old fool,

with glasses on his nose and a bag at his side,

his stockings from his youth, still saved, droop

on his shrunken legs and his formerly manly voice

returns to childish sounds and whistles. Finally,

the scene that ends this strange and storied history,

is a second childhood, one he doesn’t even know about,

without teeth or eyes or taste, without anything.

Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM

DUKE SENIOR

Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen,

And let him feed.

Welcome. Sit down your respectable burden

and let him eat.

ORLANDO

I thank you most for him.

I will thank you for him.

ADAM

So had you need:

I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

You must –

I can barely speak to thank you for myself.

DUKE SENIOR

Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you

As yet, to question you about your fortunes.

Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

Welcome, and go ahead. I will not bother you

yet and question how you came here.

Someone play some music, and good cousin, please sing.

AMIENS

singing

Blow, blow, thou winter wind.

Thou art not so unkind

As man's ingratitude;

Thy tooth is not so keen,

Because thou art not seen,

Although thy breath be rude.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is most jolly.

Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

That dost not bite so nigh

As benefits forgot:

Though thou the waters warp,

Thy sting is not so sharp

As friend remember'd not.

Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

Blow, blow, you winter wind.

You are not as mean

as men’s ingratitude,

and your teeth aren’t as sharp

since you are invisible –

though your breath is rude and harsh.

Sing, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho! to the green holly.

Most friendship is fake, most love is a joke.

Sing, Heigh-ho, the holly!

This life is very happy.

Freeze, freeze, you bitter sky,

your bite is not as bad

as forgotten good deeds.

Though you can shape water by freezing it,

your sting is not as bad

as friend who is not remembered.

Sing, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho! to the green holly.

Most friendship is fake, most love is a joke.

Sing, Heigh-ho, the holly!

DUKE SENIOR

If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,

As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,

And as mine eye doth his effigies witness

Most truly limn'd and living in your face,

Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke

That loved your father: the residue of your fortune,

Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,

Thou art right welcome as thy master is.

Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,

And let me all your fortunes understand.

If you are really Sir Rowland’s son –

as you have faithfully whispered to me,

and as I witness in your physical likeness to him

most obviously in your facial details –

you truly are welcome here. I am the duke

who loved your father, the relation to your fortune.

Come to my cave and talk to me. Good old man,

you are just as welcome as your master.

 Hold onto him by the arm. Give me your hand

and tell me everything that has happened to you.

Exeunt

Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER

DUKE FREDERICK

Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be:

But were I not the better part made mercy,

I should not seek an absent argument

Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it:

Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is;

Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living

Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more

To seek a living in our territory.

Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine

Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,

Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother’s mouth

Of what we think against thee.

You haven’t seen him since? Sir, that can’t be.

If I were not made mostly of mercy,

then I would not carry out my argument against someone who is absent

but would take my revenge on you, being present. See to it:

find out wherever your brother is,

look for him even by night with a candle, and bring him dead or alive

within the next year, or do not return

to live in this country.

Your lands, and everything you call your own

that is valuable, we will seize

until by your brother’s testimony you are removed

from the guilt I think you have.

OLIVER

O that your highness knew my heart in this!

I never loved my brother in my life.

O if only your highness knew how I thought about this in my heart!

I have never loved my brother in my whole life.

DUKE FREDERICK

More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors;

And let my officers of such a nature

Make an extent upon his house and lands:

Do this expediently and turn him going.

You are a bigger villain then. Push him through the doors