The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (700 page)

Isn't he a fine young gentleman?

JAILER

’Tis, love.

He is, love.

JAILER BROTHER

By no mean cross her, she is then distemper’d

Far worse than now she shows.

On no account disagree with her, or she'll be

much madder than she looks now.

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

Yes, he’s a fine man.

Yes, he's a fine man.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

O, is he so? You have a sister?

Is he indeed? Have you a sister?

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

Yes.

Yes.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

But she shall never have him, tell her so,

For a trick that I know. Y’ had best look to her,

For if she see him once, she’s gone—she’s done,

And undone in an hour. All the young maids

Of our town are in love with him, but I laugh at ’em

And let ’em all alone. Is’t not a wise course?

But she will never have him, tell her so,

I have the skills. You'd best watch out for her,

for if she sees him one time, she's lost–she's lost,

an done within an hour. All young maids

in our town are in love with him, but I laugh at them

and don't let that bother me. Isn't that sensible?

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

Yes.

Yes.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

There is at least two hundred now with child by him—

There must be four. Yet I keep close for all this,

Close as a cockle. And all these must be boys,

He has the trick on’t; and at ten years old

They must be all gelt for musicians,

And sing the wars of Theseus.

There are at least two hundred now who are pregnant by him–

there must be four. But despite that I keep it secret,

closed up like a clam. And they must all be boys,

he knows how to do it; and at ten years old

they must all be castrated to make musicians

who will sing about the wars of Theseus.

SECOND FRIEND OF THE JAILER

This is strange.

This is strange.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

As ever you heard, but say nothing.

The strangest thing you ever heard, but don't say anything.

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

No.

No.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

They come from all parts of the dukedom to him.

I’ll warrant ye he had not so few last night

As twenty to dispatch. He’ll tickle’t up

In two hours, if his hand be in.

They'll come from all over the country to him.

I promise you he didn't have fewer than

twenty to deal with last night. He'll do the business

in two hours, if he's in good form.

JAILER

She’s lost

Past all cure.

She's gone

past curing.

JAILER BROTHER

Heaven forbid, man!

 Heaven forbid, man!

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

To the Jailer.

Come hither, you are a wise man.

Come here, you are wise man.

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

Does she know him?

Does she recognise him?

SECOND FRIEND OF THE JAILER

No, would she did!

No, I wish she did!

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

You are master of a ship?

Are you the captain of a ship?

JAILER

Yes.

Yes.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

Where’s your compass?

Where's your compass?

JAILER

Here.

Here.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

Set it to th’ north.

And now direct your course to th’ wood, where Palamon

Lies longing for me. For the tackling

Let me alone. Come weigh, my hearts, cheerly!

Point it North.

And now set your course for the wood, where Palamon

is lying waiting for me. For dealing with the tackle,

you can leave that to me. Pull away, brave lads, pull away!

ALL.

Owgh, owgh, owgh!

Oh, oh, oh!

JAILER'S DAUGHTER

’Tis up! The wind’s fair.

Top the bowling! Out with the mainsail!

Where’s your whistle, master?

The sail's up! The wind's in our favour.

Tie up the bowline! Out with the mainsail!

Where's your whistle, master?

JAILER BROTHER

Let’s get her in.

Let's get her indoors.

JAILER

Up to the top, boy!

Up to the crowsnest, boy!

JAILER BROTHER

Where’s the pilot?

Where's the pilot?

FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER

Here.

Here.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

What ken’st thou?

What can you see?

SECOND FRIEND OF THE JAILER

A fair wood.

A beautiful wood.

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

Bear for it, master.

Tack about!

Sings.

“When Cynthia with her borrowed light,” etc.

Exeunt.

Head for it, master.

Swing around!

[Sings]

“When Cynthia with her borrowed light [etc]”

A room in the palace.

(Emilia, Gentleman, Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Attendants, Messenger)

Enter Emilia alone, with two pictures.

EMILIA

Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open

And bleed to death for my sake else. I’ll choose,

And end their strife. Two such young handsome men

Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers,

Following the dead-cold ashes of their sons,

Shall never curse my cruelty. Good heaven,

What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise Nature,

With all her best endowments, all those beauties

She sows into the births of noble bodies,

Were here a mortal woman, and had in her

The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless

She would run mad for this man. What an eye,

Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness,

Has this young prince! Here Love himself sits smiling.

Just such another wanton Ganymede

Set Jove afire with, and enforc’d the god

Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him,

A shining constellation. What a brow,

Of what a spacious majesty, he carries,

Arch’d like the great-ey’d Juno’s, but far sweeter,

Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder! Fame and Honor

Methinks from hence, as from a promontory

Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings and sing

To all the under world the loves and fights

Of gods and such men near ’em. Palamon

Is but his foil, to him, a mere dull shadow;

He’s swarth and meagre, of an eye as heavy

As if he had lost his mother; a still temper,

No stirring in him, no alacrity,

Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile.

Yet these that we count errors may become him:

Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly.

O, who can find the bent of woman’s fancy?

I am a fool, my reason is lost in me;

I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly

That women ought to beat me. On my knees

I ask thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone

And only beautiful, and these the eyes,

These the bright lamps of beauty, that command

And threaten Love, and what young maid dare cross ’em?

What a bold gravity, and yet inviting,

Has this brown manly face! O Love, this only

From this hour is complexion. Lie there, Arcite,

Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy,

And this the noble body. I am sotted,

Utterly lost. My virgin’s faith has fled me;

For if my brother but even now had ask’d me

Whether I lov’d, I had run mad for Arcite;

Now if my sister—more for Palamon.

Stand both together: now, come ask me, brother—

Alas, I know not! Ask me now, sweet sister—

I may go look! What a mere child is fancy,

That having two fair gauds of equal sweetness,

Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both!

Enter Gentleman.

How now, sir?

But maybe I can bandage these wounds, that must open

and cause fatal bleeding for me otherwise.  I'll choose one

and end their fight.  I won't let two such handsome

young men die for me; their weeping mothers

will never curse my cruelty as they follow the

cold dead ashes of their sons.  Good heavens,

what a sweet face Arcite has!  If wise Nature,

with all her best qualities, all those accomplishments

she implants in noble people at birth,

was a mortal woman, and kept to

the coy rebuttals of young virgins, she would still

lose her head over this man.  What

a sweet and sparkling fiery look this young prince

has in his eyes!  He looks like love itself.

He looks just like Ganymede, who

inflamed Jove and made him kidnap

the handsome boy and place him at his side

in a shining constellation.  What a forehead,

how majestically broad, he has,

curved like great-eyed Juno's, but far sweeter,

smoother than Pelop's shoulder!  I think

Fame and Honour should sit there as if

it were a clifftop in heaven, and clap their wings

and sing to everyone below about the loves and fights

of gods and men who are almost gods.  Palamon

is just a pale copy of him, a dull shadow;

he's dark and feeble, with such a gloomy expression

you'd think his mother had just died; he's quiet,

there's no life or vigour to him, he doesn't show

any sort of spirit, not even a smile.

But what I call deficiencies might suit him;

Narcissus was a gloomy lad, but divine.

Oh, who knows what attracts a woman?

I am a fool, I've lost my mind;

I have no choice, and I've lied so lustfully

that women ought to beat me.  I beg for your pardon

on my knees: Palamon, you are unique and the only

beautiful one, and these are the eyes,

the bright lamps of beauty, that offer and

demand love, and what young girl can resist?

What strong seriousness, but still attractive,

this brown manly face has!  Oh love, from now on