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

by William Shakespeare

  ORLANDO

  You touch'd my vein at first: the thorny point

  Of bare distress hath ta'en from me the show

  Of smooth civility: yet am I inland bred

  And know some nurture. But forbear, I say:

  He dies that touches any of this fruit

  Till I and my affairs are answered.

  You had it right with the first guess. The thorn

  of my distress has taken from me my

  smooth manners. Yet, I was bred in the city

  and do know how to be civil. But stop, I say:

  Whoever touched this fruit

  until my affairs are answered will die.

  JAQUES

  An you will not be answered with reason, I must die.

  If these affairs will not be answered with reason, I will have to die.

  DUKE SENIOR

  What would you have? Your gentleness shall force

  More than your force move us to gentleness.

  What would you like? Being a gentleman would force

  more from us than your force would make us gentle.

  ORLANDO

  I almost die for food; and let me have it.

  I am dying from hunger – let me have it.

  DUKE SENIOR

  Sit down and feed, and welcome to our table.

  Sit down and eat, and welcome to our table.

  ORLANDO

  Speak you so gently? Pardon me, I pray you:

  I thought that all things had been savage here;

  And therefore put I on the countenance

  Of stern commandment. But whate'er you are

  That in this desert inaccessible,

  Under the shade of melancholy boughs,

  Lose and neglect the creeping hours of time

  If ever you have look'd on better days,

  If ever been where bells have knoll'd to church,

  If ever sat at any good man's feast,

  If ever from your eyelids wiped a tear

  And know what 'tis to pity and be pitied,

  Let gentleness my strong enforcement be:

  In the which hope I blush, and hide my sword.

  Why do you speak so nicely to me? Excuse me, please.

  I thought that everything here was savage,

  so I put on an act

  of sternness and strength. But whoever you are

  in this inaccessible and deserted place,

  where you sit under the shade of sad trees

  and lose track of the time,

  if you have ever known better days

  or have been to church where the bells rang,

  if you ever sat at a nobleman’s feast,

  or if you have ever wiped a tear from you eye

  and thus know what it is like to pity and be pitied,

  than let my manners be a strong persuader,

  and in that hope I will feel ashamed and put my sword away.

  DUKE SENIOR

  True is it that we have seen better days,

  And have with holy bell been knoll'd to church

  And sat at good men's feasts and wiped our eyes

  Of drops that sacred pity hath engender'd:

  And therefore sit you down in gentleness

  And take upon command what help we have

  That to your wanting may be minister'd.

  It is true that we have seen better days

  and have been to church where the bells rang

  and have sat at noblemen’s feasts and wiped our eyes

  of tears that came from holy pity.

  Therefore, sit down nicely

  and take whatever help we have

  that we can provide to your needs.

  ORLANDO

  Then but forbear your food a little while,

  Whiles, like a doe, I go to find my fawn

  And give it food. There is an old poor man,

  Who after me hath many a weary step

  Limp'd in pure love: till he be first sufficed,

  Oppress'd with two weak evils, age and hunger,

  I will not touch a bit.

  Then please stop eating for a moment

  while I, like a doe, find my fawn

  and give it food. A poor old man

  has followed me in every tired step

  and limped along from his love for me. Until he is satisfied,

  since he is afflicted by two weaknesses – age and hunger –

  I will not eat.

  DUKE SENIOR

  Go find him out,

  And we will nothing waste till you return.

  Go find him

  and we will not eat until you return.

  ORLANDO

  I thank ye; and be blest for your good comfort!

  Thank you, and bless you for your hospitality!

  Exit

  DUKE SENIOR

  Thou seest we are not all alone unhappy:

  This wide and universal theatre

  Presents more woeful pageants than the scene

  Wherein we play in.

  You see, we are not all unhappy and alone:

  this wide and universal theater

  has more sad plays than only the scene

  that we are in.

  JAQUES

  All the world's a stage,

  And all the men and women merely players:

  They have their exits and their entrances;

  And one man in his time plays many parts,

  His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,

  Mewling and puking in the nurse's arms.

  And then the whining school-boy, with his satchel

  And shining morning face, creeping like snail

  Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,

  Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad

  Made to his mistress' eyebrow. Then a soldier,

  Full of strange oaths and bearded like the pard,

  Jealous in honour, sudden and quick in quarrel,

  Seeking the bubble reputation

  Even in the cannon's mouth. And then the justice,

  In fair round belly with good capon lined,

  With eyes severe and beard of formal cut,

  Full of wise saws and modern instances;

  And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts

  Into the lean and slipper'd pantaloon,

  With spectacles on nose and pouch on side,

  His youthful hose, well saved, a world too wide

  For his shrunk shank; and his big manly voice,

  Turning again toward childish treble, pipes

  And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,

  That ends this strange eventful history,

  Is second childishness and mere oblivion,

  Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

  The whole world is a stage

  and men and women are just players.

  They have their exits and entrances,

  and one man plays many parts in his time,

  seven different acts of live. First he is an infant,

  crying and puking in the nurse’s arms,

  and then he is a whining schoolboy, with his bag

  and his shining morning face, going as slow as a snail

  to school, unwillingly. Then he is a lover,

  sighing like a furnace and singing sad songs

  about his mistress’s eyebrow. Then he is a soldier,

  swearing strangely and bearded like a panther,

  jealous of his honor and quick to fight,

  looking for his reputation, as fragile as a bubble,

  even looking in the mouth of a cannon. Then he is a judge,

  with a fat belly full of chicken,

  and serious eyes, and a formally trimmed beard,

  full of wise sayings and relevant stories –

  that’s how he plays this part. In the sixth part,

  he is a thin and slipper-wearing old fool,

  with glasses on his nose and a bag at his side,
<
br />   his stockings from his youth, still saved, droop

  on his shrunken legs and his formerly manly voice

  returns to childish sounds and whistles. Finally,

  the scene that ends this strange and storied history,

  is a second childhood, one he doesn’t even know about,

  without teeth or eyes or taste, without anything.

  Re-enter ORLANDO, with ADAM

  DUKE SENIOR

  Welcome. Set down your venerable burthen,

  And let him feed.

  Welcome. Sit down your respectable burden

  and let him eat.

  ORLANDO

  I thank you most for him.

  I will thank you for him.

  ADAM

  So had you need:

  I scarce can speak to thank you for myself.

  You must –

  I can barely speak to thank you for myself.

  DUKE SENIOR

  Welcome; fall to: I will not trouble you

  As yet, to question you about your fortunes.

  Give us some music; and, good cousin, sing.

  Welcome, and go ahead. I will not bother you

  yet and question how you came here.

  Someone play some music, and good cousin, please sing.

  AMIENS

  singing

  Blow, blow, thou winter wind.

  Thou art not so unkind

  As man's ingratitude;

  Thy tooth is not so keen,

  Because thou art not seen,

  Although thy breath be rude.

  Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

  Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

  Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

  This life is most jolly.

  Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,

  That dost not bite so nigh

  As benefits forgot:

  Though thou the waters warp,

  Thy sting is not so sharp

  As friend remember'd not.

  Heigh-ho! sing, heigh-ho! unto the green holly:

  Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly:

  Then, heigh-ho, the holly!

  Blow, blow, you winter wind.

  You are not as mean

  as men’s ingratitude,

  and your teeth aren’t as sharp

  since you are invisible –

  though your breath is rude and harsh.

  Sing, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho! to the green holly.

  Most friendship is fake, most love is a joke.

  Sing, Heigh-ho, the holly!

  This life is very happy.

  Freeze, freeze, you bitter sky,

  your bite is not as bad

  as forgotten good deeds.

  Though you can shape water by freezing it,

  your sting is not as bad

  as friend who is not remembered.

  Sing, Heigh-ho, Heigh-ho! to the green holly.

  Most friendship is fake, most love is a joke.

  Sing, Heigh-ho, the holly!

  DUKE SENIOR

  If that you were the good Sir Rowland's son,

  As you have whisper'd faithfully you were,

  And as mine eye doth his effigies witness

  Most truly limn'd and living in your face,

  Be truly welcome hither: I am the duke

  That loved your father: the residue of your fortune,

  Go to my cave and tell me. Good old man,

  Thou art right welcome as thy master is.

  Support him by the arm. Give me your hand,

  And let me all your fortunes understand.

  If you are really Sir Rowland’s son –

  as you have faithfully whispered to me,

  and as I witness in your physical likeness to him

  most obviously in your facial details –

  you truly are welcome here. I am the duke

  who loved your father, the relation to your fortune.

  Come to my cave and talk to me. Good old man,

  you are just as welcome as your master.

  Hold onto him by the arm. Give me your hand

  and tell me everything that has happened to you.

  Exeunt

  Enter DUKE FREDERICK, Lords, and OLIVER

  DUKE FREDERICK

  Not see him since? Sir, sir, that cannot be:

  But were I not the better part made mercy,

  I should not seek an absent argument

  Of my revenge, thou present. But look to it:

  Find out thy brother, wheresoe'er he is;

  Seek him with candle; bring him dead or living

  Within this twelvemonth, or turn thou no more

  To seek a living in our territory.

  Thy lands and all things that thou dost call thine

  Worth seizure do we seize into our hands,

  Till thou canst quit thee by thy brother’s mouth

  Of what we think against thee.

  You haven’t seen him since? Sir, that can’t be.

  If I were not made mostly of mercy,

  then I would not carry out my argument against someone who is absent

  but would take my revenge on you, being present. See to it:

  find out wherever your brother is,

  look for him even by night with a candle, and bring him dead or alive

  within the next year, or do not return

  to live in this country.

  Your lands, and everything you call your own

  that is valuable, we will seize

  until by your brother’s testimony you are removed

  from the guilt I think you have.

  OLIVER

  O that your highness knew my heart in this!

  I never loved my brother in my life.

  O if only your highness knew how I thought about this in my heart!

  I have never loved my brother in my whole life.

  DUKE FREDERICK

  More villain thou. Well, push him out of doors;

  And let my officers of such a nature

  Make an extent upon his house and lands:

  Do this expediently and turn him going.

  You are a bigger villain then. Push him through the doors

  and let my officers

  seize his house and lands.

  Do this quickly and make him leave.

  Exeunt

  Enter ORLANDO, with a paper

  ORLANDO

  Hang there, my verse, in witness of my love:

  And thou, thrice-crowned queen of night, survey

  With thy chaste eye, from thy pale sphere above,

  Thy huntress' name that my full life doth sway.

  O Rosalind! these trees shall be my books

  And in their barks my thoughts I'll character;

  That every eye which in this forest looks

  Shall see thy virtue witness'd every where.

  Run, run, Orlando; carve on every tree

  The fair, the chaste and unexpressive she.

  Sit here on this tree, you lines of poetry, to witness to my love.

  And you, Diana, queen of the night, watch

  with your pure eye from the pale moon above

  and keep track of the huntress who has power over my life.

  O Rosalind! These trees will be my books

  and I will write my thoughts for you on their bark;

  thus, everyone who looks in this forest

  will see your virtues written everywhere.

  Run, Orlando, and carve lines on every tree

  that talk about her beauty, chastity, and her inexpressible character.

  Exit

  Enter CORIN and TOUCHSTONE

  CORIN

  And how like you this shepherd's life, Master Touchstone?

  How do you like living as a shepherd, Master Touchstone?

  TOUCHSTONE

  Truly, shepherd, in respect of itself, it is a good

  life, but in respect that it is a shepherd's life,
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br />   it is naught. In respect that it is solitary, I

  like it very well; but in respect that it is

  private, it is a very vile life. Now, in respect it

  is in the fields, it pleaseth me well; but in

  respect it is not in the court, it is tedious. As

  is it a spare life, look you, it fits my humour well;

  but as there is no more plenty in it, it goes much

  against my stomach. Hast any philosophy in thee, shepherd?

  Well, shepherd, compared to itself alone, it is a good

  life, but since it is a shepherd’s life,

  it is nothing. In respect of its solitary lifestyle, I

  like it a lot, but in respect of its

  private lifestyle, it is awful. Now,

  it is pleasing to live in the fields, but

  it is very boring and tedious to not be living in the courts.

  And with its minimal needs, it is very fitting to my personality,

  but because there is no extravagance, the lifestyle

  goes against my palate and dietary desires. Are you a philosopher, shepherd?

  CORIN

  No more but that I know the more one sickens the

  worse at ease he is; and that he that wants money,

  means and content is without three good friends;

  that the property of rain is to wet and fire to

  burn; that good pasture makes fat sheep, and that a

  great cause of the night is lack of the sun; that

  he that hath learned no wit by nature nor art may

  complain of good breeding or comes of a very dull kindred.

  Only insofar as I know that the sicker one gets, the

  more uncomfortable he is, and that if someone does not have money,

  means of employment, or happiness is lacking three good friends.

  I know that rain gets things wet, and fire

  burns, that good fields make fat sheep, and that

  the great work of the night is to be without sun. I know that

  he who has learned nothing, either from nature or schooling,

  is either poorly bred or has come from a dull family.