The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (726 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
3.4Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

and what happens to her, which is what is following,

is what Time wants to show you. Allow this, whether

or not you have ever spent time less agreeably,

Time only wishes with all his heart that you never will.

 

SCENE II. Bohemia. The palace of POLIXENES.

 

Enter POLIXENES and CAMILLO

 

POLIXENES

I pray thee, good Camillo, be no more importunate:

'tis a sickness denying thee any thing; a death to

grant this.

 

Please, good Camillo, stop asking me:

it makes me ill to deny you anything; it would kill me

to give you this.

 

CAMILLO

It is fifteen years since I saw my country: though

I have for the most part been aired abroad, I

desire to lay my bones there. Besides, the penitent

king, my master, hath sent for me; to whose feeling

sorrows I might be some allay, or I o'erween to

think so, which is another spur to my departure.

 

It is fifteen years since I saw my country: though

since then I have mostly been breathing foreign air, I

would like to be buried there. Besides, the penitent

king, my master, has sent for me; and I might be able

to give him some comfort in his sorrow, or I presume

I can, which is another reason to want to go.

 

POLIXENES

As thou lovest me, Camillo, wipe not out the rest of

thy services by leaving me now: the need I have of

thee thine own goodness hath made; better not to

have had thee than thus to want thee: thou, having

made me businesses which none without thee can

sufficiently manage, must either stay to execute

them thyself or take away with thee the very

services thou hast done; which if I have not enough

considered, as too much I cannot, to be more

thankful to thee shall be my study, and my profit

therein the heaping friendships. Of that fatal

country, Sicilia, prithee speak no more; whose very

naming punishes me with the remembrance of that

penitent, as thou callest him, and reconciled king,

my brother; whose loss of his most precious queen

and children are even now to be afresh lamented.

Say to me, when sawest thou the Prince Florizel, my

son? Kings are no less unhappy, their issue not

being gracious, than they are in losing them when

they have approved their virtues.

 

As you love me, Camillo, don't wipe out everything

you've done for me by leaving me now: you have

made me come to rely on you through your own goodness;

it would be better not to have had you, than to lose you:

you have started things for me which only you can finish,

you must either stay and do them yourself, or destroy

all the good things that you have done: if I haven't

rewarded you enough (I can never reward you enough), I shall

learn how to be more grateful; and the profit I get from that

would be more of your friendly services. Please don't speak any more

of that fateful country, Sicily; the very name of it

hurts me with the memory of that penitent

(as you call him) and reconciled King, my

brother; the loss of his most precious queen and

children are still being mourned. Tell

me, when did you last see Prince Florizel, my son?

Kings are just as unhappy when their children are not

good, as they are if they lose them when they

know that they are good.

 

CAMILLO

Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What

his happier affairs may be, are to me unknown: but I

have missingly noted, he is of late much retired

from court and is less frequent to his princely

exercises than formerly he hath appeared.

 

Sir, it is three days since I saw the prince. What

he has to do that is more important, I don't know:

but he has been conspicuous by his absence recently

from the court and does not undertake his princely

exercises as often as he used it.

 

POLIXENES

I have considered so much, Camillo, and with some

care; so far that I have eyes under my service which

look upon his removedness; from whom I have this

intelligence, that he is seldom from the house of a

most homely shepherd; a man, they say, that from

very nothing, and beyond the imagination of his

neighbours, is grown into an unspeakable estate.

 

I have thought about this, Camillo, and with some

care; so much so that I have spies watching

him when he is away; they have given me reports

that he is seldom away from the house of a

very lowly shepherd; a man, they say, that started

with absolutely nothing, and has acquired a vast

fortune, which his neighbours can't explain.

 

CAMILLO

I have heard, sir, of such a man, who hath a

daughter of most rare note: the report of her is

extended more than can be thought to begin from such a cottage.

 

I have heard about such a man, sir, who has a

quite remarkable daughter: the reports of her

would seem to indicate she is far more remarkable than one would expect from such a cottage.

 

POLIXENES

That's likewise part of my intelligence; but, I

fear, the angle that plucks our son thither. Thou

shalt accompany us to the place; where we will, not

appearing what we are, have some question with the

shepherd; from whose simplicity I think it not

uneasy to get the cause of my son's resort thither.

Prithee, be my present partner in this business, and

lay aside the thoughts of Sicilia.

 

That's what I've been told too; but, I

fear, she is the hook that draws my son there. You

will come with me to the place; there we will,

without revealing who we are, speak with the

shepherd; I think we should easily be able to

elicit from the simple fellow why my son goes there.

Please, help me manage this business, and

forget about Sicily.

 

CAMILLO

I willingly obey your command.

 

I willingly do as you say.

 

POLIXENES

My best Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.

 

Exeunt

 

My splendid Camillo! We must disguise ourselves.

 

SCENE III. A road near the Shepherd's cottage.

 

Enter AUTOLYCUS, singing

 

AUTOLYCUS

When daffodils begin to peer,

With heigh! the doxy over the dale,

Why, then comes in the sweet o' the year;

For the red blood reigns in the winter's pale.

The white sheet bleaching on the hedge,

With heigh! the sweet birds, O, how they sing!

Doth set my pugging tooth on edge;

For a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

The lark, that tirra-lyra chants,

With heigh! with heigh! the thrush and the jay,

Are summer songs for me and my aunts,

While we lie tumbling in the hay.

I have served Prince Florizel and in my time

wore three-pile; but now I am out of service:

But shall I go mourn for that, my dear?

The pale moon shines by night:

And when I wander here and there,

I then do most go right.

If tinkers may have leave to live,

And bear the sow-skin budget,

Then my account I well may, give,

And in the stocks avouch it.

My traffic is sheets; when the kite builds, look to

lesser linen. My father named me Autolycus; who

being, as I am, littered under Mercury, was likewise

a snapper-up of unconsidered trifles. With die and

drab I purchased this caparison, and my revenue is

the silly cheat. Gallows and knock are too powerful

on the highway: beating and hanging are terrors to

me: for the life to come, I sleep out the thought

of it. A prize! a prize!

 

Enter Clown

 

When daffodils begin to appear

the beggar woman comes over the fields

then comes the sweet time of the year

when red blood colours the white cheeks of winter.

 

White sheets drying on the hedge,  

hey, the sweet birds, how they sing!

Set my thieving teeth on edge;

a quart of ale is a dish for a king.

 

The lark that sings its warbling song,

hey! Hey! The thrush and the jay

sing the summer songs for me and my girls

as we lie tumbling in the hay.

 

I have been in the service of Prince Florizel, and in my time have worn

thick velvet, but now I have no job.

 

But shall I let that make me sad?

The pale moon shines at night:

and when I wander here and there

that's the life for me.

 

If tinkers are allowed to live

and carry their pigskin bags

then I will stand up for myself

even in the stocks.

 

My trade is stealing sheets; when the kite is building his nest

you must look out for your small linen. My father named me Autolycus;

being who I am, born under Mercury, I am also

a thief of neglected things. Through dice and women I got

this outfit, and I get my living through

petty trickery. The gallows and beatings are too common

on the highway: beating and hanging terrify me:

Other books

Scorpion's Advance by Ken McClure
Nowhere Girl by Ruth Dugdall
Lisístrata by Aristófanes
Guilt by Association by Marcia Clark
Candace Camp by A Dangerous Man
Before They Are Hanged by Joe Abercrombie
Betrayal by Healy, Nancy Ann
Baroness in Buckskin by Sheri Cobb South