The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (348 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
9.58Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

and I smell somewhat of her displeasure.

 

Clown

Truly, fortune's displeasure is but sluttish, if it

smell so strongly as thou speakest of: I will

henceforth eat no fish of fortune's buttering.

Prithee, allow the wind.

 

Well, Fortune's displeasure is really pretty filthy,

if it smells as bad as you: I will not eat

any fish cooked by Fortune from now on.

Would you mind standing downwind of me?

 

PAROLLES

Nay, you need not to stop your nose, sir; I spake

but by a metaphor.

 

No, you needn't hold your nose, sir; I was speaking

metaphorically.

 

Clown

Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stink, I will stop my

nose; or against any man's metaphor. Prithee, get

thee further.

 

 Indeed, sir, if your metaphor stinks, I will hold

my nose; the same as against any man's metaphor. Please,

get further away.

 

PAROLLES

Pray you, sir, deliver me this paper.

 

Please sir, deliver this letter for me.

 

Clown

Foh! prithee, stand away: a paper from fortune's

close-stool to give to a nobleman! Look, here he

comes himself.

 

Enter LAFEU

 

Here is a purr of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's

cat,--but not a musk-cat,--that has fallen into the

unclean fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he

says, is muddied withal: pray you, sir, use the

carp as you may; for he looks like a poor, decayed,

ingenious, foolish, rascally knave. I do pity his

distress in my similes of comfort and leave him to

your lordship.

 

Exit

 

Pah! Stand further off, please; paper from fortune's

lavatory to give to a nobleman! Look, here he

comes himself.

Here's a plaything of fortune's, sir, or of fortune's

cat–not a sweet smelling cat–that has fallen into the

filthy fishpond of her displeasure, and, as he

says, he has been dirtied by it: please, sir, treat the

poor fish kindly; for he looks like a poor, decayed,

cunning, foolish, rascally knave. I feel sorry

for the distress he feels at my words of comfort

so I'll leave him to your lordship.

 

PAROLLES

My lord, I am a man whom fortune hath cruelly

scratched.

 

My lord, I am a man who has been cruelly scratched

by Fortune.

 

LAFEU

And what would you have me to do? 'Tis too late to

pare her nails now. Wherein have you played the

knave with fortune, that she should scratch you, who

of herself is a good lady and would not have knaves

thrive long under her? There's a quart d'ecu for

you: let the justices make you and fortune friends:

I am for other business.

 

What do you want me to do about it? It's too late

to trim her nails now. What have you been doing

to Fortune that has made her scratch you, for she

is a good lady and doesn't put up with knaves

for long? Here's sixpence for you:

apply to the magistrates for relief:

I've got other things to do.

 

PAROLLES

I beseech your honour to hear me one single word.

 

I beg your honor just to let me have a word.

 

LAFEU

You beg a single penny more: come, you shall ha't;

save your word.

 

I know, you just want another penny: alright, you shall have it;

don't bother with your word.

 

PAROLLES

My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

 

My name, my good lord, is Parolles.

 

LAFEU

You beg more than 'word,' then. Cox my passion!

give me your hand. How does your drum?

 

You want more than a word, then. Good heavens!

Give me your hand. How's your drum?

 

PAROLLES

O my good lord, you were the first that found me!

 

Oh my good lord, you were the first one to find me out!

 

LAFEU

Was I, in sooth? and I was the first that lost thee.

 

Was I, indeed? And I was the first one to lose you.

 

PAROLLES

It lies in you, my lord, to bring me in some grace,

for you did bring me out.

 

It's up to you, my lord, to show me some favor,

since you were the one who made me lose it.

 

LAFEU

Out upon thee, knave! dost thou put upon me at once

both the office of God and the devil? One brings

thee in grace and the other brings thee out.

 

Trumpets sound

 

The king's coming; I know by his trumpets. Sirrah,

inquire further after me; I had talk of you last

night: though you are a fool and a knave, you shall

eat; go to, follow.

 

Get lost, knave! Are you asking me to play

both God and the Devil? One brings

you grace and the other makes you lose it.

The King's coming; I recognise his trumpets. Sir,

you may ask for me later; I heard talk of you

last night: although you are a fool and a knave, you shall

eat; come on, follow me.

 

PAROLLES

I praise God for you.

 

Exeunt

 

I thank God for your kindness.

 

 

Flourish. Enter KING, COUNTESS, LAFEU, the two French Lords, with Attendants

 

KING

We lost a jewel of her; and our esteem

Was made much poorer by it: but your son,

As mad in folly, lack'd the sense to know

Her estimation home.

 

We lost a jewel in her, and our wealth

was greatly reduced because of it: but your son,

completely madly, didn't have the sense to know

her true worth.

 

COUNTESS

'Tis past, my liege;

And I beseech your majesty to make it

Natural rebellion, done i' the blaze of youth;

When oil and fire, too strong for reason's force,

O'erbears it and burns on.

 

That is the past, my lord;

I beg your Majesty to see it

as a natural rebellion, caused by the hot headedness of youth;

that raging fire can be too strong for the force of reason,

it swamps it and roars on.

 

KING

My honour'd lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten all;

Though my revenges were high bent upon him,

And watch'd the time to shoot.

 

My dear lady,

I have forgiven and forgotten everything;

although I did have my revenge prepared

and was waiting for a time to attack.

 

LAFEU

This I must say,

But first I beg my pardon, the young lord

Did to his majesty, his mother and his lady

Offence of mighty note; but to himself

The greatest wrong of all. He lost a wife

Whose beauty did astonish the survey

Of richest eyes, whose words all ears took captive,

Whose dear perfection hearts that scorn'd to serve

Humbly call'd mistress.

 

I have to say this,

asking you to excuse me, the young lord

did a great wrong to his Majesty, his mother

and his lady; but he did the greatest wrong of all

to himself. He lost a wife

whose beauty astonished the eyes of those

who have seen many beauties, whose words captivated all listeners,

whose absolute perfection made humble servants

out of the proudest hearts.

 

KING

Praising what is lost

Makes the remembrance dear. Well, call him hither;

We are reconciled, and the first view shall kill

All repetition: let him not ask our pardon;

The nature of his great offence is dead,

And deeper than oblivion we do bury

The incensing relics of it: let him approach,

A stranger, no offender; and inform him

So 'tis our will he should.

 

Praising what has been lost

renews sweet memories. Well, call him here;

we have made up, and our first meeting

will stop any mention of the past: he doesn't have to ask for pardon;

the details of his great offence are forgotten

and we have buried the unhappy memories of it

beyond recovery: let him come in

with a clean slate; tell him

that I invite him to do so.

 

Gentleman

I shall, my liege.

 

Exit

 

I shall, my lord.

 

KING

What says he to your daughter? have you spoke?

 

What has he said to your daughter? Have you spoken to him?

 

LAFEU

All that he is hath reference to your highness.

 

He will do whatever your Highness wishes.

 

KING

Then shall we have a match. I have letters sent me

That set him high in fame.

 

Enter BERTRAM

 

In that case we shall have a marriage. I have received letters

which speak very well of him.

 

LAFEU

He looks well on't.

 

He looks well.

 

KING

I am not a day of season,

For thou mayst see a sunshine and a hail

In me at once: but to the brightest beams

Distracted clouds give way; so stand thou forth;

The time is fair again.

 

I am not always one thing nor the other

you might see sunshine and hail

coming from me at the same time: but the darkest clouds

give way to the brightest sunbeams; so come here,

good times have returned.

 

BERTRAM

My high-repented blames,

Dear sovereign, pardon to me.

 

Dear King, please forgive me

my sins, which I greatly repent.

 

KING

Other books

1 3 7 – ZOË by De Melo, C.
An Oxford Tragedy by J. C. Masterman
Theresa Monsour by Cold Blood
The Apparition by Wayne Greenough
Fragile Cord by Emma Salisbury
When Last I Died by Gladys Mitchell
The Korean Intercept by Stephen Mertz