The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (851 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
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He leaves me, scorns me. Briefly die their joys

That place them on the truth of girls and boys.

Why stands he so perplex'd?

 

The boy rejects me,

he leaves me, he spurns me.They will soon lose their happiness

who rely on the loyalty of girls and boys.

Why is he so confused?

 

CYMBELINE.

What wouldst thou, boy?

I love thee more and more; think more and more

What's best to ask. Know'st him thou look'st on? Speak,

Wilt have him live? Is he thy kin? thy friend?

 

What do you want, boy?

I love you more and more;think more and more

what the best thing to ask is.Do you know the one you're looking at?Say,

do you want him to live?Is he your family?Your friend?

 

IMOGEN.

He is a Roman, no more kin to me

Than I to your Highness; who, being born your vassal,

Am something nearer.

 

He is a Roman, no more related to me

than I am to your Highness; as I was born your subject

I am actually closer to you.

 

CYMBELINE.

Wherefore ey'st him so?

 

Why are you eying him like that?

 

IMOGEN.

I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you please

To give me hearing.

 

I'll tell you, sir, in private, if you'd be kind enough

to listen to me.

 

CYMBELINE.

Ay, with all my heart,

And lend my best attention. What's thy name?

 

Certainly, and I'll give you my best

attention.What's your name?

 

IMOGEN.

Fidele, sir.

 

Fidele, sir.

 

CYMBELINE.

Thou'rt my good youth, my page;

I'll be thy master. Walk with me; speak freely.

 [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN converse apart]

 

You are my good boy, my page;

I'll be your master.Walk with me, say what you want.

 

BELARIUS.

Is not this boy reviv'd from death?

 

Hasn't this boy come back from the dead?

 

ARVIRAGUS.

One sand another

Not more resembles- that sweet rosy lad

Who died and was Fidele. What think you?

 

They're as alike as two

grains of sand - that sweet rosy lad who died

and was Fidele.What do you think?

 

GUIDERIUS.

The same dead thing alive.

 

The same thing that was dead is alive.

 

BELARIUS.

Peace, peace! see further. He eyes us not; forbear.

Creatures may be alike; were't he, I am sure

He would have spoke to us.

 

Be quiet!Think about it, he doesn't look at us.Stop it.

Men can look the same; if it was him, I am sure

he would have spoken to us.

 

GUIDERIUS.

But we saw him dead.

 

But we saw him dead.

 

BELARIUS.

Be silent; let's see further.

 

Be quiet; let's see what develops.

 

PISANIO.

[Aside] It is my mistress.

Since she is living, let the time run on

To good or bad. [CYMBELINE and IMOGEN advance]

 

It is my mistress.

Since she is alive, let time run on,

to good or bad.

 

CYMBELINE.

Come, stand thou by our side;

Make thy demand aloud. [To IACHIMO] Sir, step you forth;

Give answer to this boy, and do it freely,

Or, by our greatness and the grace of it,

Which is our honour, bitter torture shall

Winnow the truth from falsehood. On, speak to him.

 

Come and stand by my side;

speak your demand out loud.[To Iachimo] Sir, step forward;

answer this boy, and do so fully,

or I swear by my greatness and the grace of it,

which is my honour, bitter torture will

get the truth out of you.Go on, speak to him.

 

IMOGEN.

My boon is that this gentleman may render

Of whom he had this ring.

 

My request is that this gentleman tells me

where he got this ring from.

 

POSTHUMUS.

[Aside] What's that to him?

 

Why does he care?

 

CYMBELINE.

That diamond upon your finger, say

How came it yours?

 

That diamond on your finger, how

did you come by it?

 

IACHIMO.

Thou'lt torture me to leave unspoken that

Which to be spoke would torture thee.

 

You would torture me to stop me saying

something that it would torture you to hear.

 

CYMBELINE.

How? me?

 

What?Me?

 

IACHIMO.

I am glad to be constrain'd to utter that

Which torments me to conceal. By villainy

I got this ring; 'twas Leonatus' jewel,

Whom thou didst banish; and- which more may grieve thee,

As it doth me- a nobler sir ne'er liv'd

'Twixt sky and ground. Wilt thou hear more, my lord?

 

I am glad to be forced to say something

which it torments me to conceal.I got this ring

through villainy; it belonged to Leonatus,

whom you exiled; and - which may grieve you more,

as it does me, a nobler gentleman never

lived on earth.Do you want to hear more, my lord?

 

CYMBELINE.

All that belongs to this.

 

Everything about it.

 

IACHIMO.

That paragon, thy daughter,

For whom my heart drops blood and my false spirits

Quail to remember- Give me leave, I faint.

 

That perfect girl, your daughter,

the thought of whom makes my heart bleed and my false spirits

quiver to remember - excuse me, I'm faint.

 

CYMBELINE.

My daughter? What of her? Renew thy strength;

I had rather thou shouldst live while nature will

Than die ere I hear more. Strive, man, and speak.

 

My daughter?What about her?Pull yourself together;

I would rather you lived forever rather than

die before I hear more.Try, man, speak.

 

IACHIMO.

Upon a time- unhappy was the clock

That struck the hour!- was in Rome- accurs'd

The mansion where!- 'twas at a feast- O, would

Our viands had been poison'd, or at least

Those which I heav'd to head!- the good Posthumus-

What should I say? he was too good to be

Where ill men were, and was the best of all

Amongst the rar'st of good ones- sitting sadly

Hearing us praise our loves of Italy

For beauty that made barren the swell'd boast

Of him that best could speak; for feature, laming

The shrine of Venus or straight-pight Minerva,

Postures beyond brief nature; for condition,

A shop of all the qualities that man

Loves woman for; besides that hook of wiving,

Fairness which strikes the eye-

 

Once upon a time - what an unhappy time it was!-

I was in Rome - curse the mansion I was in!- at a feast -

oh, I wish our food had been poisoned, or at least

the ones I ate! - the good Posthumus -

what should I say?He was too good to be

where bad men were, and was the very best

of the best - sat sadly

hearing us praise our Italian mistresses

for a beauty which could completely

outstrip that of his; for looks better

than the statues of Venus of straight backed Minerva,

holding themselves like goddesses; their personalities

a compendium of all the qualities that men

love women for; besides that wifely winning quality,

beauty which strikes the eye -

 

CYMBELINE.

I stand on fire.

Come to the matter.

 

I'm on fire.

Get to the point.

 

IACHIMO.

All too soon I shall,

Unless thou wouldst grieve quickly. This Posthumus,

Most like a noble lord in love and one

That had a royal lover, took his hint;

And not dispraising whom we prais'd- therein

He was as calm as virtue- he began

His mistress' picture; which by his tongue being made,

And then a mind put in't, either our brags

Were crack'd of kitchen trulls, or his description

Prov'd us unspeaking sots.

 

I shall, all too soon,

unless you want to grieve at once.This Posthumus,

who was very like a noble lord in love and one

who had a royal lover, took his cue;

he didn't criticise those we praised - he was

as calm as he was virtuous - he began

to describe his mistress; when he'd described her,

and then said what her mind was like, it seemed our boasts

were about kitchen sluts, or else his description

showed we were drunken idiots who couldn't describe anything.

 

CYMBELINE.

Nay, nay, to th' purpose.

 

Come on, to the point.

 

IACHIMO.

Your daughter's chastity- there it begins.

He spake of her as Dian had hot dreams

And she alone were cold; whereat I, wretch,

Made scruple of his praise, and wager'd with him

Pieces of gold 'gainst this which then he wore

Upon his honour'd finger, to attain

In suit the place of's bed, and win this ring

By hers and mine adultery. He, true knight,

No lesser of her honour confident

Than I did truly find her, stakes this ring;

And would so, had it been a carbuncle

Of Phoebus' wheel; and might so safely, had it

Been all the worth of's car. Away to Britain

Post I in this design. Well may you, sir,

Remember me at court, where I was taught

Of your chaste daughter the wide difference

'Twixt amorous and villainous. Being thus quench'd

Of hope, not longing, mine Italian brain

Gan in your duller Britain operate

Most vilely; for my vantage, excellent;

And, to be brief, my practice so prevail'd

That I return'd with simular proof enough

To make the noble Leonatus mad,

By wounding his belief in her renown

With tokens thus and thus; averring notes

Of chamber-hanging, pictures, this her bracelet-

O cunning, how I got it!- nay, some marks

Of secret on her person, that he could not

But think her bond of chastity quite crack'd,

I having ta'en the forfeit. Whereupon-

Methinks I see him now-

 

Your daughter's chastity - that's where it starts.

He spoke of her as if Diana was lusty and only she was pure; so I, wretch,

doubted his praise, and bet him

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