The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (691 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
9.15Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

 

Oh you heavens, is there anyone who's guilty

who can look so noble? Nobody

except for Arcite; and so there's nobody but Arcite

who can be as bold as this.

 

ARCITE

Sweet Palamon—

 

Sweet Palamon–

 

PALAMON

I do embrace you and your offer. For

Your offer do’t I only, sir; your person

Without hypocrisy I may not wish

More than my sword’s edge on’t.

 

I embrace you and your offer. I'm

only doing it for your offer, sir; I would

be a hypocrite if I wished any more for your body

than to have it beneath the edge of my sword.

 

Wind horns off. Cornets.

 

ARCITE

You hear the horns:

Enter your musit, lest this match between ’s

Be cross’d ere met. Give me your hand, farewell.

I’ll bring you every needful thing. I pray you

Take comfort and be strong.

 

You hear the horns:

go back into your hiding place in case our battle

should be stopped before we've begun. Give me your hand, farewell.

I'll bring you everything you need. I ask you to

be hopeful and strong.

 

PALAMON

Pray hold your promise;

And do the deed with a bent brow. Most certain

You love me not; be rough with me, and pour

This oil out of your language. By this air,

I could for each word give a cuff, my stomach

Not reconcil’d by reason.

 

Please keep your promise;

and do the deed with a frown. It's certain

that you don't love me; be rude to me, and

stop using this sweet language. I swear,

I could give your belt for each word, if

my anger wasn't controlled by my common sense.

 

ARCITE

Plainly spoken,

Yet pardon me hard language. When I spur

My horse, I chide him not; content and anger

In me have but one face.

Wind horns within.

Hark, sir, they call

The scatter’d to the banquet. You must guess

I have an office there.

 

You speak plainly,

but you must allow me not to use rough language. When I urge on

my horse, I don't speak roughly to him; happiness and anger

look the same in me.

 

Listen, sir, they are calling

the scattered crowd to the banquet. You must know

that I am expected there.

 

PALAMON

Sir, your attendance

Cannot please heaven, and I know your office

Unjustly is achiev’d.

 

Sir, your attendance

will not be  smiled on by the gods, and I know your position

has been achieved through cheating.

 

ARCITE

I've a good title.

I am persuaded this question, sick between ’s,

By bleeding must be cur’d. I am a suitor

That to your sword you will bequeath this plea,

And talk of it no more.

 

I have every right to be there.

I see that the only way to solve

the argument between us is by spilling blood.

I must ask you to settle the matter with the sword,

and let's have no more talking.

 

PALAMON

But this one word:

You are going now to gaze upon my mistress,

For note you, mine she is—

 

I'll just say this:

you are now going to look at my mistress,

for you must know, she is mine–

 

ARCITE

Nay then—

 

No but-

 

PALAMON

Nay, pray you—

You talk of feeding me to breed me strength;

You are going now to look upon a sun

That strengthens what it looks on; there you have

A vantage o’er me, but enjoy’t till

I may enforce my remedy. Farewell.

 

No, please–

you talk of feeding me to make me strong;

you are now going to look at a sun

that strengthens everything it shines on; so you have

an advantage over me, but enjoy it until

I can make things right. Farewell.

 

Exeunt severally.

 

 

Another part of the forest near Athens.

 

(Jailer’s Daughter)

 

Enter Jailer’s Daughter alone.

 

JAILER’S DAUGHTER

He has mistook the brake I meant, is gone

After his fancy. ’Tis now well-nigh morning;

No matter, would it were perpetual night,

And darkness lord o’ th’ world! Hark, ’tis a wolf!

In me hath grief slain fear, and but for one thing,

I care for nothing, and that’s Palamon.

I reck not if the wolves would jaw me, so

He had this file. What if I hallow’d for him?

I cannot hallow. If I whoop’d, what then?

If he not answer’d, I should call a wolf,

And do him but that service. I have heard

Strange howls this livelong night; why may’t not be

They have made prey of him? He has no weapons,

He cannot run, the jingling of his gyves

Might call fell things to listen, who have in them

A sense to know a man unarm’d, and can

Smell where resistance is. I’ll set it down

He’s torn to pieces. They howl’d many together,

And then they fed on him. So much for that,

Be bold to ring the bell. How stand I then?

All’s char’d when he is gone. No, no, I lie:

My father’s to be hang’d for his escape,

Myself to beg, if I priz’d life so much

As to deny my act, but that I would not,

Should I try death by dozens. I am mop’d:

Food took I none these two days—

Sipp’d some water. I have not clos’d mine eyes

Save when my lids scour’d off their brine. Alas,

Dissolve, my life, let not my sense unsettle

Lest I should drown, or stab, or hang myself.

O state of nature, fail together in me,

Since thy best props are warp’d! So which way now?

The best way is, the next way to a grave;

Each errant step beside is torment. Lo

The moon is down, the crickets chirp, the screech owl

Calls in the dawn! All offices are done

Save what I fail in. But the point is this—

An end, and that is all.

Exit.

 

He's mistaken the thicket I meant, he's gone

following his imagination. It's now almost morning;

it wouldn't matter if night lasted forever,

and darkness ruled the world! Listen, it's a wolf!

Grief has killed my fear, and I only care

about one thing, and that's Palamon.

I don't care if the wolves chewed on me,

as long as he got this file. What if I shouted for him?

I cannot shout. If I did, what would happen?

If he didn't answer, it would call a wolf,

and that would only help him. I have heard

strange howling all through the night; maybe

they have killed him? He has no weapons,

he cannot run, the jingling of his chains

might give him away to evil things, they

can sense when a man is unarmed, and can

always tell whether he can fight back. I have to think

he's been torn to pieces. So many of them howled together,

and then they ate him. That's the end of that,

ring the funeral bell. So where do I stand?

Everything is finished now he's gone. No, no, I'm lying:

my father will be hanged for his escape,

I would beg for myself, if I cared enough about life

to deny my act, but I wouldn't, even if

I had to suffer a dozen deaths. I am dizzy:

I haven't eaten for two days–

I just sipped some water. I haven't closed my eyes

except to blink away the tears. Alas,

let my life end, don't let me go mad

and drown, or stab, or hang, myself.

Nature, let life slip away from me,

since all that supports it is broken! Which way now?

The best way is the way to the grave;

every step that doesn't lead there is torture.

Look, the moon is set, the crickets are chirping, the screech owl

welcomes the dawn! All jobs have been done

except mine, and I failed. In conclusion, all

I want is for everything to end.

 

 

Another part of the forest near Athens.

 

(Arcite, Palamon)

 

Enter Arcite with meat, wine, and files.

 

ARCITE

I should be near the place. Ho, cousin Palamon!

 

I should be near the place. Hello, cousin Palamon!

 

Enter Palamon.

PALAMON

Arcite?

 

Arcite?

 

ARCITE

The same. I have brought you food and files.

Come forth and fear not, here’s no Theseus.

 

It's me. I have brought you food and files.

Come out and don't be afraid, Theseus is not here.

 

PALAMON

Nor none so honest, Arcite.

 

Nobody as honest as him, Arcite.

 

ARCITE

That’s no matter,

We’ll argue that hereafter. Come, take courage,

You shall not die thus beastly. Here, sir, drink—

I know you are faint—then I’ll talk further with you.

 

That's not important,

we'll debate that afterwards. Come, take heart,

Other books

Brianna by Judy Mays - Celestial Passions 01
Deadly Attraction by Calista Fox
Duncton Stone by William Horwood
Further Under the Duvet by Marian Keyes
Corbin's Captive by Emma Paul
Beware of Pity by Stefan Zweig