The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (848 page)

by the great doctor, death, who is the one

who will free me from these chains.My conscience

is more in chains than my arms and legs; you good gods,

give me death as the key to ease that pain,

then I can be free forever!Is it enough to say I'm sorry?

That's the way children appease their earthly fathers.

Gods are more merciful.If I must repent,

I can't do it better than by accepting these

chains, which are more welcome than a punishment.

If I can choose the way I make my payment,

take nothing more from me than my life.

I know you are kinder than vile men,

who take a third, a sixth, a tenth from their

poor debtors, letting them live again

when they've paid; that's not what I want.

Take my life in payment for Imogen's dear one; and though

it's not worth as much, it's still a life; you made it.

Not every man is made worth the same;

though I'm not much, take me as a man;

more so as you made me.And so, great powers,

if you accept my deal, take my life,

and throw off these cold chains.Oh Imogen!

I'll commune with you in silence.

SICILIUS.

No more, thou thunder-master, show

Thy spite on mortal flies.

With Mars fall out, with Juno chide,

That thy adulteries

Rates and revenges.

Hath my poor boy done aught but well,

Whose face I never saw?

I died whilst in the womb he stay'd

Attending nature's law;

Whose father then, as men report

Thou orphans' father art,

Thou shouldst have been, and shielded him

From this earth-vexing smart.

You master of the thunder, no longer

take out your anger on lowly mortals.

Leave Mars, reprove Juno,

so your interventions

put a stop to the slaughter.

Has my poor boy, whose

face I never saw, done anything but good?

I died while he was in the womb,

waiting for the end of his term;

men say that you are

the father to orphans,

and you should have been a father to him,

and protected him from this terrible injury.

MOTHER.

Lucina lent not me her aid,

But took me in my throes,

That from me was Posthumus ripp'd,

Came crying 'mongst his foes,

A thing of pity.

Lucina did not help me,

but took me in my labour,

so that Posthumus was torn from me,

crying amongst his enemies,

a thing of pity.

SICILIUS.

Great Nature like his ancestry

Moulded the stuff so fair

That he deserv'd the praise o' th' world

As great Sicilius' heir.

Great nature shaped him so well,

copying his ancestors,

that he deserved to be praised by the world

as the heir of great Sicilius.

FIRST BROTHER.

When once he was mature for man,

In Britain where was he

That could stand up his parallel,

Or fruitful object be

In eye of Imogen, that best

Could deem his dignity?

Once he became a man,

who was there in Britain

that could be called his equal,

or be as desirable

in Imogen's eyes,

who could match him?

MOTHER.

With marriage wherefore was he mock'd,

To be exil'd and thrown

From Leonati seat and cast

From her his dearest one,

Sweet Imogen?

Why was he treated so badly in his marriage,

exiled and thrown out

from the home of the Leonati

and taken away from his dear love,

sweet Imogen.

SICILIUS.

Why did you suffer Iachimo,

Slight thing of Italy,

To taint his nobler heart and brain

With needless jealousy,

And to become the geck and scorn

O' th' other's villainy?

Why did you allow Iachimo,

an insignificant Italian,

to stain his nobler heart and mind

with needless jealousy,

making him the dupe and mockery

of the other's villainy?

SECOND BROTHER.

For this from stiller seats we came,

Our parents and us twain,

That, striking in our country's cause,

Fell bravely and were slain,

Our fealty and Tenantius' right

With honour to maintain.

We came from quieter places for this,

our parents and we two,

who, fighting for our country,

fell and were killed nobly,

to uphold with honour

our loyalty and Tenatius' rights.

FIRST BROTHER.

Like hardiment Posthumus hath

To Cymbeline perform'd.

Then, Jupiter, thou king of gods,

Why hast thou thus adjourn'd

The graces for his merits due,

Being all to dolours turn'd?

Posthumus has done similar

service for Cymbeline.

So, Jupiter, you king of gods,

why have you witheld

the rewards his merits deserve,

giving nothing but sorrow?

SICILIUS.

Thy crystal window ope; look out;

No longer exercise

Upon a valiant race thy harsh

And potent injuries.

Look down from your home in the sky;

stop inflicting these harsh

and powerful injuries

upon a brave race.

MOTHER.

Since, Jupiter, our son is good,

Take off his miseries.

Jupiter, as our son is good,

end his misery.

SICILIUS.

Peep through thy marble mansion. Help!

Or we poor ghosts will cry

To th' shining synod of the rest

Against thy deity.

Look down from the clouds.Help!

or we poor ghosts will call out

to all the shining host,

against your godliness.

BROTHERS.

Help, Jupiter! or we appeal,

And from thy justice fly.

Help, Jupiter!Or we will rebel

and fly from your justice.

JUPITER

descends-in thunder and lightning, sitting

upon an eagle. He throws a thunderbolt. The GHOSTS

fall on their knees

JUPITER.

No more, you petty spirits of region low,

Offend our hearing; hush! How dare you ghosts

Accuse the Thunderer whose bolt, you know,

Sky-planted, batters all rebelling coasts?

Poor shadows of Elysium, hence and rest

Upon your never-withering banks of flow'rs.

Be not with mortal accidents opprest:

No care of yours it is; you know 'tis ours.

Whom best I love I cross; to make my gift,

The more delay'd, delighted. Be content;

Your low-laid son our godhead will uplift;

His comforts thrive, his trials well are spent.

Our Jovial star reign'd at his birth, and in

Our temple was he married. Rise and fade!

He shall be lord of Lady Imogen,

And happier much by his affliction made.

This tablet lay upon his breast, wherein

Our pleasure his full fortune doth confine;

And so, away; no farther with your din

Express impatience, lest you stir up mine.

Mount, eagle, to my palace crystalline.

[Ascends]

You lowly mortals, stop

offending my hearing; hush!How dare you ghosts

accuse the Thunderer, whose bolts, you know,

crash from the sky and batter all rebels?

Poor shades from Elysium, go away and rest

on your banks of eternal flowers.

Don't get involved with the affairs of men,

which are none of your concern; you know they're mine.

I cause pain to the ones I love best, so that they will

enjoy my gifts all the more.Be happy;

your reduced son will be lifted up by my godliness;

his happiness is coming, his trials are over.

The star of Jupiter ruled over his birth, and

he was married in my temple.Rise and fall!

He shall be Lady Imogen's husband,

and be much happier due to his suffering.

Place this tablet on his breast, which

details the great good fortune I am giving him;

and so, go; don't express your discontent

any longer, in case you stir up mine.

Climb, eagle, up to my palace in the sky.

SICILIUS.

He came in thunder; his celestial breath

Was sulpherous to smell; the holy eagle

Stoop'd as to foot us. His ascension is

More sweet than our blest fields. His royal bird

Prunes the immortal wing, and cloys his beak,

As when his god is pleas'd.

He came with thunder; his heavenly breath

smelt of sulphur; the holy eagle swooped

as if it was going to seize us.His climbing away

is even sweeter than our blessed fields.His royal bird

folds his immortal wings and tucks away his beak,

showing his god is happy.

ALL.

Thanks, Jupiter!

Our thanks, Jupiter!

SICILIUS.

The marble pavement closes, he is enter'd

His radiant roof. Away! and, to be blest,

Let us with care perform his great behest.

[GHOSTS vanish]

The clouds close, he has gone

back into heaven.Let's go!And, to have his blessing,

let's follow his great orders to the letter.

POSTHUMUS.

[Waking] Sleep, thou has been a grandsire and begot

A father to me; and thou hast created

A mother and two brothers. But, O scorn,

Gone! They went hence so soon as they were born.

And so I am awake. Poor wretches, that depend

On greatness' favour, dream as I have done;

Wake and find nothing. But, alas, I swerve;

Many dream not to find, neither deserve,

And yet are steep'd in favours; so am I,

That have this golden chance, and know not why.

What fairies haunt this ground? A book? O rare one!

Be not, as is our fangled world, a garment

Nobler than that it covers. Let thy effects

So follow to be most unlike our courtiers,

As good as promise.

[Reads] 'When as a lion's whelp shall, to himself unknown,

without seeking find, and be embrac'd by a piece of tender

air;

and when from a stately cedar shall be lopp'd branches which,

being dead many years, shall after revive, be jointed to the

old