Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
He won't let us cremate them,
to put their ashes in an urn, or to take the horrible sight
of rotting corpses away from the blessed sight
of the holy sun, but lets the stench of our dead husbands
reek through the air. Pity us, Duke,
you who has cleaned the earth, draw your fearsome sword
that does good deeds for the world; get the bones
of our dead kings for us so we can have a proper funeral;
and in your infinite goodness please note
that we have no roof over our royal heads,
apart from this sky which we share with
the lion, the bear and everything!
THESEUS
Pray you kneel not;
I was transported with your speech, and suffer’d
Your knees to wrong themselves. I have heard the fortunes
Of your dead lords, which gives me such lamenting
As wakes my vengeance and revenge for ’em.
King Capaneus was your lord. The day
That he should marry you, at such a season
As now it is with me, I met your groom
By Mars’s altar. You were that time fair;
Not Juno’s mantle fairer than your tresses,
Nor in more bounty spread her. Your wheaten wreath
Was then nor thresh’d nor blasted; Fortune at you
Dimpled her cheek with smiles. Hercules our kinsman
(Then weaker than your eyes) laid by his club;
He tumbled down upon his Nemean hide,
And swore his sinews thaw’d. O grief and time,
Fearful consumers, you will all devour!
Please don't kneel;
I was absorbed in what you said, and wrongly allowed
you to stay on your knees. I have heard about the fates
of your dead husbands, and it makes me so sad
that it inspires me to take revenge for them.
Your husband was King Capaneus. On your
wedding day, on the same occasion I am now
enjoying, I met your groom at
the altar of Mars. You were lovely at that time;
Juno's cloak was not more lovely than your hair,
nor more plentiful. Your golden locks
hadn't been torn or windblown; Fortune
smiled upon you. Our kinsman Hercules
(who then had less power than your eyes) put down his club;
he tumbled down on his Nemean hide,
and swore he had become weak. Oh grief and time,
with your terrible greed, you will devour everything!
FIRST QUEEN.
O, I hope some god,
Some god hath put his mercy in your manhood,
Whereto he’ll infuse pow’r, and press you forth
Our undertaker.
Oh, I hope some god
has added mercy to your manly virtues,
which he will make work and employ you
to do this service for us.
THESEUS
O, no knees, none, widow!
Unto the helmeted Bellona use them,
And pray for me your soldier.
Troubled I am.
Oh, no kneeling, widow!
Use your knees to pray to the goddess of war,
and pray for me as your soldier.
I am troubled.
Turns away.
SECOND QUEEN.
Honored Hippolyta,
Most dreaded Amazonian, that hast slain
The scythe-tusk’d boar; that with thy arm, as strong
As it is white, wast near to make the male
To thy sex captive, but that this thy lord,
Born to uphold creation in that honor
First Nature styl’d it in, shrunk thee into
The bound thou wast o’erflowing, at once subduing
Thy force and thy affection; soldieress
That equally canst poise sternness with pity,
Whom now I know hast much more power on him
Than ever he had on thee, who ow’st his strength,
And his love too, who is a servant for
The tenor of thy speech; dear glass of ladies,
Bid him that we, whom flaming war doth scorch,
Under the shadow of his sword may cool us;
Require him he advance it o’er our heads;
Speak’t in a woman’s key—like such a woman
As any of us three; weep ere you fail;
Lend us a knee;
But touch the ground for us no longer time
Than a dove’s motion when the head’s pluck’d off;
Tell him, if he i’ th’ blood-siz’d field lay swoll’n,
Showing the sun his teeth, grinning at the moon,
What you would do.
Respected Hippolyta,
Most feared Amazonian, who has killed
the sharp-tusked boar; you who almost,
with your strong white arm, subdued
the male sex, until your lord here,
this perfect specimen
of Nature, pushed your advances
back, capturing your force and your love;
as a soldier you can show both sternness and pity,
and I now know you have much more power over him
than he ever had over you, you have captured his force
and his love too, he will do
anything you say; dear perfect lady,
tell him that we, burned by flaming war,
want to be cooled in the shade of his sword;
tell him to hold it over our heads;
speak to him as a woman - a woman like any of us;
weep before you admit defeat;
kneel to him;
but don't do so for longer
than a dove keeps moving when its head is cut off;
tell him what you would do if he lay rotting
on a blood-soaked battlefield, turning into a skeleton
beneath the open skies.
HIPPOLYTA
Poor lady, say no more:
I had as lief trace this good action with you
As that whereto I am going, and never yet
Went I so willing way. My lord is taken
Heart-deep with your distress. Let him consider.
I’ll speak anon.
Poor lady, say no more:
I'm as happy to help you
as I am to be married, and I was never
happier about anything than that. My lord
feels your distress deep in his heart. Let him think.
I'll speak to him soon.
THIRD QUEEN.
O, my petition was
Kneel to Emilia.
Set down in ice, which by hot grief uncandied
Melts into drops; so sorrow wanting form
Is press’d with deeper matter.
Oh, my request was
written on ice, which was melted by
bitter hot grief; so sorrow cannot show itself
when faced with such a great evil.
EMILIA
Pray stand up,
Your grief is written in your cheek.
Please stand up,
your grief is obvious from your face.
THIRD QUEEN.
O, woe,
You cannot read it there. There, through my tears,
Like wrinkled pebbles in a glassy stream,
You may behold ’em. Lady, lady, alack!
He that will all the treasure know o’ th’ earth
Must know the centre too; he that will fish
For my least minnow, let him lead his line
To catch one at my heart. O, pardon me,
Extremity, that sharpens sundry wits,
Makes me a fool.
Oh, you cannot
see my sorrow there. You can see my cheeks under my tears
like wrinkled pebbles in a watery stream.
Alas, lady!
Someone who wants the treasure of the earth must dig into it;
if you want to know any part of my grief
you have to look deep into my heart. Oh, pardon me,
extreme suffering, that makes some people sharper,
makes me a fool.
EMILIA
Pray you say nothing, pray you.
Who cannot feel nor see the rain, being in’t,
Knows neither wet nor dry. If that you were
The ground-piece of some painter, I would buy you
T’ instruct me ’gainst a capital grief indeed—
Such heart-pierc’d demonstration! But alas,
Being a natural sister of our sex,
Your sorrow beats so ardently upon me
That it shall make a counter-reflect ’gainst
My brother’s heart, and warm it to some pity,
Though it were made of stone. Pray have good comfort.
Please, I beg you, say nothing.
Someone who can't see or feel the rain,
when they're in it,
knows nothing. If you were
a painting, I would buy you
to keep as an example of the greatest sorrow-
such a heartrending example! But alas,
as all we women are sisters,
your sorrow affects me so deeply
that it will reflect off me into
my brother's heart, and kindle pity there
even if it were made of stone. Please be sure of that.
THESEUS
Forward to th’ temple. Leave not out a jot
O’ th’ sacred ceremony.
Onward to the temple. Don't leave out a word
of the sacred ceremony.
FIRST QUEEN.
O, this celebration
Will long last and be more costly than
Your suppliants’ war! Remember that your fame
Knolls in the ear o’ th’ world; what you do quickly
Is not done rashly; your first thought is more
Than others’ labored meditance; your premeditating
More than their actions. But, O Jove, your actions,
Soon as they move, as asprays do the fish,
Subdue before they touch. Think, dear Duke, think
What beds our slain kings have!
Oh, this celebration
will last a long time and cost more
than the war we have been in! Remember that you
are famous throughout the world; what you do quickly
is not done hotheadedly; your initial thought is worth more
than the long contemplation of others; your plans
are worth more than their actions. But, by god,
once you start moving your actions subdue men
before they even begin, as the shadow of the osprey
scares the fish. Think, dear Duke, think
of where our dead kings are lying!
SECOND QUEEN.
What griefs our beds
That our dear lords have none!
How sad we are in our beds,
knowing our dear lords have none!
THIRD QUEEN.
None fit for th’ dead:
Those that with cords, knives, drams, precipitance,
Weary of this world’s light, have to themselves
Been death’s most horrid agents, humane grace
Affords them dust and shadow.
None that are fit for the dead:
those who have brought death upon themselves,
tired of living, in the most horrible ways,
with hanging, stabbing, poison, leaping from heights,
the kindness of humanity allows them a decent burial.
FIRST QUEEN.
But our lords
Lie blist’ring ’fore the visitating sun,
And were good kings when living.
But our lords
are lying burning under the hot sun,
and they were good kings when they were alive.