Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
The moon shines so brightly tonight. On a night like this,
When the wind blows so gently in the treetops
They barely make noise—on a night just like this,
I think Troilus climbed the Troyan walls
And sighed toward the Grecian tents
Where his love Cressida slept.
JESSICA
In such a night
Did Thisbe fearfully o'ertrip the dew
And saw the lion's shadow ere himself
And ran dismay'd away.
On a night like this
Thisbe tripped over the dew
When he saw the lion’s shadow before him
And ran away in fear.
LORENZO
In such a night
Stood Dido with a willow in her hand
Upon the wild sea banks and waft her love
To come again to Carthage.
On a night like this,
Dido stood with a willow branch in her hand
On the wild seashore and signaled her lover
To come back to Carthage.
JESSICA
In such a night
Medea gather'd the enchanted herbs
That did renew old AEson.
On a night like this,
Medea gathered the magic herbs
That rejuvenated old Aeson.
LORENZO
In such a night
Did Jessica steal from the wealthy Jew
And with an unthrift love did run from Venice
As far as Belmont.
On a night like this,
Jessica stole from the wealthy Jew
And with her spendthrift lover
All the way to Belmont.
JESSICA
In such a night
Did young Lorenzo swear he loved her well,
Stealing her soul with many vows of faith
And ne'er a true one.
On a night like this
Young Lorenzo swore he loved Jessica very much
And won her soul with many vows of love,
But not one single vow was true.
LORENZO
In such a night
Did pretty Jessica, like a little shrew,
Slander her love, and he forgave it her.
On a night like this,
Pretty Jessica, like a troublesome person,
Said awful things about her lover, and he forgave her.
JESSICA
I would out-night you, did no body come;
But, hark, I hear the footing of a man.
I would outdo you if making references to the night if nobody came,
But, listen, I hear footsteps.
Enter STEPHANO
LORENZO
Who comes so fast in silence of the night?
Who comes so quickly in the quiet of night?
STEPHANO
A friend.
A friend.
LORENZO
A friend! what friend? your name, I pray you, friend?
A frined! What friend? What is your name, please, frined?
STEPHANO
Stephano is my name; and I bring word
My mistress will before the break of day
Be here at Belmont; she doth stray about
By holy crosses, where she kneels and prays
For happy wedlock hours.
My name is Stephano, and I am here to tell you
My mistress will be here before the sun rises,
Back in Belmont. She’s still among
The holy crosses at the monastary, where she’s on her knees praying
For a happy marriage.
LORENZO
Who comes with her?
Who is coming with her?
STEPHANO
None but a holy hermit and her maid.
I pray you, is my master yet return'd?
Just a holy hermit and her maid.
Tell me, has my master returned yet?
LORENZO
He is not, nor we have not heard from him.
But go we in, I pray thee, Jessica,
And ceremoniously let us prepare
Some welcome for the mistress of the house.
He’s not here, and we haven’t heard from him
But let’s go inside, Jessica,
And prepare a ceremony
To welcome the mistress back to her house.
Enter LAUNCELOT
LAUNCELOT
Sola, sola! wo ha, ho! sola, sola!
Hello! Hello! Wo, ha, ho! Hello! Hello!
LORENZO
Who calls?
Who’s shouting?
LAUNCELOT
Sola! did you see Master Lorenzo?
Master Lorenzo, sola, sola!
Hello! Did you see Master Lorenzo?
Master Lorenzo! Hello! Hello!
LORENZO
Leave hollaing, man: here.
Stop the hollering, man, I’m here.
LAUNCELOT
Sola! where? where?
Hello! Where? Where?
LORENZO
Here.
Here.
LAUNCELOT
Tell him there's a post come from my master, with
his horn full of good news: my master will be here
ere morning.
Tell him a message has arrived from my master, full
of very good news. My master will be here
before morning.
Exit
LORENZO
Sweet soul, let's in, and there expect their coming.
And yet no matter: why should we go in?
My friend Stephano, signify, I pray you,
Within the house, your mistress is at hand;
And bring your music forth into the air.
Sweethear, let’s go in and wait for them to arrive.
But, waiy, it doesn’t matter—why should we go in?
Friend Stephano, please make it known
Inside the house that your mistress is coming,
And bring muscians out here.
Exit Stephano
How sweet the moonlight sleeps upon this bank!
Here will we sit and let the sounds of music
Creep in our ears: soft stillness and the night
Become the touches of sweet harmony.
Sit, Jessica. Look how the floor of heaven
Is thick inlaid with patines of bright gold:
There's not the smallest orb which thou behold'st
But in his motion like an angel sings,
Still quiring to the young-eyed cherubins;
Such harmony is in immortal souls;
But whilst this muddy vesture of decay
Doth grossly close it in, we cannot hear it.
See how lovely the moonlight looks on the bank!
Let’s sit here and let the sounds of music
Creep into our ears. The stillness of nightime
Makes the music all the more sweet sounding.
Sit down, Jessica. Look at how the floor of heaven
Is inlaid with a thin layer of bright gold:
Even the smallest star that you can see
Sings like an angel in its motion,
Silently choiring to the youthful cherubs.
Immortal beings can hear the songs,
But we who live here on earth
And live in earthly bodies cannot hear it.
Enter Musicians
Come, ho! and wake Diana with a hymn!
With sweetest touches pierce your mistress' ear,
And draw her home with music.
Come on! Wake Diana with a song!
With the sweetest touches play your instruments so your mistress can hear
And bring her home with music.
Music
JESSICA
I am never merry when I hear sweet music.
I never feel like laughing when I hear sweet music.
LORENZO
The reason is, your spirits are attentive:
For do but note a wild and wanton herd,
Or race of youthful and unhandled colts,
Fetching mad bounds, bellowing and neighing loud,
Which is the hot condition of their blood;
If they but hear perchance a trumpet sound,
Or any air of music touch their ears,
You shall perceive them make a mutual stand,
Their savage eyes turn'd to a modest gaze
By the sweet power of music: therefore the poet
Did feign that Orpheus drew trees, stones and floods;
Since nought so stockish, hard and full of rage,
But music for the time doth change his nature.
The man that hath no music in himself,
Nor is not moved with concord of sweet sounds,
Is fit for treasons, stratagems and spoils;
The motions of his spirit are dull as night
And his affections dark as Erebus:
Let no such man be trusted. Mark the music.
That’s because your feelings are paying attention to the music.
Think about a frolicking herd of wild animals,
Or a herd of young and untrained colts,
Jumping around like crazy, bellowing and neighing loudly,
Which is how they are naturally,
But if they happen to hear the sound of a trumpet,
Or if the sound of soft music touches their ears,
You will see them all stop and stand still—
Their wild eyes calming
From the power of the music. That is why the poet
Wrote how Orpheus could bring trees, stones and rivers to him with music,
There is not much in the world too stupid, hard or full of anger
That can not be changed by music.
The man that has no music in him—
Who is not moved by the harmony of sweet sounds—
Is only good for betrayal, schemes and ruin.
His soul is as dull as the night,
And his emotions are dark as the son of Chaos.
A man like that can not be trusted. Listen to the music.
Enter PORTIA and NERISSA
PORTIA
That light we see is burning in my hall.
How far that little candle throws his beams!
So shines a good deed in a naughty world.
That light we see in burning in my house.
Look how far that candle throws its beams!
That’s how a good deed shines in an evil world.
NERISSA
When the moon shone, we did not see the candle.
When the moon was shining, we did not see the candle.
PORTIA
So doth the greater glory dim the less:
A substitute shines brightly as a king
Unto the king be by, and then his state
Empties itself, as doth an inland brook
Into the main of waters. Music! hark!
Brighter lights always dim the less.
Antoher light shines as brightly as a king
Until the king comes along, and then the other light
Suddenly becomes less, in the same way an inland stream
Empties into the sea. Music! Listen!
NERISSA
It is your music, madam, of the house.
It is your music, madam, coming from your house.
PORTIA
Nothing is good, I see, without respect:
Methinks it sounds much sweeter than by day.
I see now that you can’t consider anything good without comparison.