The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 427
Are you the captain of a ship?
JAILER
Yes.
Yes.
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
Where’s your compass?
Where's your compass?
JAILER
Here.
Here.
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
Set it to th’ north.
And now direct your course to th’ wood, where Palamon
Lies longing for me. For the tackling
Let me alone. Come weigh, my hearts, cheerly!
Point it North.
And now set your course for the wood, where Palamon
is lying waiting for me. For dealing with the tackle,
you can leave that to me. Pull away, brave lads, pull away!
ALL.
Owgh, owgh, owgh!
Oh, oh, oh!
JAILER'S DAUGHTER
’Tis up! The wind’s fair.
Top the bowling! Out with the mainsail!
Where’s your whistle, master?
The sail's up! The wind's in our favour.
Tie up the bowline! Out with the mainsail!
Where's your whistle, master?
JAILER BROTHER
Let’s get her in.
Let's get her indoors.
JAILER
Up to the top, boy!
Up to the crowsnest, boy!
JAILER BROTHER
Where’s the pilot?
Where's the pilot?
FIRST FRIEND OF THE JAILER
Here.
Here.
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
What ken’st thou?
What can you see?
SECOND FRIEND OF THE JAILER
A fair wood.
A beautiful wood.
JAILER’S DAUGHTER
Bear for it, master.
Tack about!
Sings.
“When Cynthia with her borrowed light,” etc.
Exeunt.
Head for it, master.
Swing around!
[Sings]
“When Cynthia with her borrowed light [etc]”
A room in the palace.
(Emilia, Gentleman, Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, Attendants, Messenger)
Enter Emilia alone, with two pictures.
EMILIA
Yet I may bind those wounds up, that must open
And bleed to death for my sake else. I’ll choose,
And end their strife. Two such young handsome men
Shall never fall for me; their weeping mothers,
Following the dead-cold ashes of their sons,
Shall never curse my cruelty. Good heaven,
What a sweet face has Arcite! If wise Nature,
With all her best endowments, all those beauties
She sows into the births of noble bodies,
Were here a mortal woman, and had in her
The coy denials of young maids, yet doubtless
She would run mad for this man. What an eye,
Of what a fiery sparkle and quick sweetness,
Has this young prince! Here Love himself sits smiling.
Just such another wanton Ganymede
Set Jove afire with, and enforc’d the god
Snatch up the goodly boy and set him by him,
A shining constellation. What a brow,
Of what a spacious majesty, he carries,
Arch’d like the great-ey’d Juno’s, but far sweeter,
Smoother than Pelops’ shoulder! Fame and Honor
Methinks from hence, as from a promontory
Pointed in heaven, should clap their wings and sing
To all the under world the loves and fights
Of gods and such men near ’em. Palamon
Is but his foil, to him, a mere dull shadow;
He’s swarth and meagre, of an eye as heavy
As if he had lost his mother; a still temper,
No stirring in him, no alacrity,
Of all this sprightly sharpness, not a smile.
Yet these that we count errors may become him:
Narcissus was a sad boy, but a heavenly.
O, who can find the bent of woman’s fancy?
I am a fool, my reason is lost in me;
I have no choice, and I have lied so lewdly
That women ought to beat me. On my knees
I ask thy pardon: Palamon, thou art alone
And only beautiful, and these the eyes,
These the bright lamps of beauty, that command
And threaten Love, and what young maid dare cross ’em?
What a bold gravity, and yet inviting,
Has this brown manly face! O Love, this only
From this hour is complexion. Lie there, Arcite,
Thou art a changeling to him, a mere gypsy,
And this the noble body. I am sotted,
Utterly lost. My virgin’s faith has fled me;
For if my brother but even now had ask’d me
Whether I lov’d, I had run mad for Arcite;
Now if my sister—more for Palamon.
Stand both together: now, come ask me, brother—
Alas, I know not! Ask me now, sweet sister—
I may go look! What a mere child is fancy,
That having two fair gauds of equal sweetness,
Cannot distinguish, but must cry for both!
Enter Gentleman.
How now, sir?
But maybe I can bandage these wounds, that must open
and cause fatal bleeding for me otherwise. I'll choose one
and end their fight. I won't let two such handsome
young men die for me; their weeping mothers
will never curse my cruelty as they follow the
cold dead ashes of their sons. Good heavens,
what a sweet face Arcite has! If wise Nature,
with all her best qualities, all those accomplishments
she implants in noble people at birth,
was a mortal woman, and kept to
the coy rebuttals of young virgins, she would still
lose her head over this man. What
a sweet and sparkling fiery look this young prince
has in his eyes! He looks like love itself.
He looks just like Ganymede, who
inflamed Jove and made him kidnap
the handsome boy and place him at his side
in a shining constellation. What a forehead,
how majestically broad, he has,
curved like great-eyed Juno's, but far sweeter,
smoother than Pelop's shoulder! I think
Fame and Honour should sit there as if
it were a clifftop in heaven, and clap their wings
and sing to everyone below about the loves and fights
of gods and men who are almost gods. Palamon
is just a pale copy of him, a dull shadow;
he's dark and feeble, with such a gloomy expression
you'd think his mother had just died; he's quiet,
there's no life or vigour to him, he doesn't show
any sort of spirit, not even a smile.
But what I call deficiencies might suit him;
Narcissus was a gloomy lad, but divine.
Oh, who knows what attracts a woman?
I am a fool, I've lost my mind;
I have no choice, and I've lied so lustfully
that women ought to beat me. I beg for your pardon
on my knees: Palamon, you are unique and the only
beautiful one, and these are the eyes,
the bright lamps of beauty, that offer and
demand love, and what young girl can resist?
What strong seriousness, but still attractive,
this brown manly face has! Oh love, from now on
this is the only colour for me. Stay there, Arcite,
you are a substitute for him, just a gypsy boy,
and this is the true nobleman. I am besotted,
&nbs
p; utterly lost. My maidenly confidence has deserted me;
if my brother had asked me just now
if I was in love, I would have been dizzy for Arcite;
if my sister asked, I would have been for Palamon.
Put them both together; now, ask me brother -
alas, I don't know! Ask me now, sweet sister-
I'll have to look! Attraction is like a child,
that won't choose between two toys of equal
value, but cries to have them both!
What is it, sir?
GENTLEMAN
From the noble Duke your brother,
Madam, I bring you news. The knights are come.
I bring you news, madam, from
your brother, the noble Duke. The knights have come.
EMILIA
To end the quarrel?
To end their argument?
GENTLEMAN
Yes.
Yes.
EMILIA
Would I might end first!
What sins have I committed, chaste Diana,
That my unspotted youth must now be soil’d
With blood of princes? And my chastity
Be made the altar where the lives of lovers—
Two greater and two better never yet
Made mothers joy—must be the sacrifice
To my unhappy beauty?
I wish I could die first!
What sins have I committed, pure Diana,
that my blameless youth must be stained
with the blood of princes? And my chastity
turned into an altar where the lives of two lovers-
the greatest and best ones that ever gave
their mothers joy- must be sacrificed
to my unhappy beauty?
Enter Theseus, Hippolyta, Pirithous, and Attendants.
THESEUS
Bring ’em in
Quickly, by any means, I long to see ’em.—
Your two contending lovers are return’d,
And with them their fair knights. Now, my fair sister,
You must love one of them.
Bring them in
as quickly as you like, I'm longing to see them.
Your two competing lovers have returned,
bringing their fair knights with them. Now, my fair sister,
you must choose one of them.
EMILIA
I had rather both,
So neither for my sake should fall untimely.
I would rather have both,
so that neither would die an early death for me.
THESEUS
Who saw ’em?
Who saw them?
PIRITHOUS
I a while.
I did, a while ago.
GENTLEMAN
And I.
And I.
Enter First Messenger.
THESEUS
From whence come you, sir?
Where have you come from, sir?
1. MESSENGER
From the knights.
From the knights.
THESEUS
Pray speak,
You that have seen them, what they are.
You've seen them,
please tell us who they are.
1. MESSENGER
I will, sir,
And truly what I think. Six braver spirits
Than these they have brought (if we judge by the outside)
I never saw nor read of. He that stands
In the first place with Arcite, by his seeming
Should be a stout man, by his face a prince
(His very looks so say him), his complexion
Nearer a brown than black; stern, and yet noble,
Which shows him hardy, fearless, proud of dangers.
The circles of his eyes show fire within him,
And as a heated lion, so he looks;
His hair hangs long behind him, black and shining
Like ravens’ wings; his shoulders broad and strong,
Arm’d long and round, and on his thigh a sword
Hung by a curious baldrick, when he frowns
To seal his will with. Better, o’ my conscience,
Was never soldier’s friend.
I will, sir,
and give you my honest opinion. I have never heard of
or read about six better men than the ones they have
brought, if we judge by appearances. He that stands
next to Arcite looks like a very sound man, his looks
show him to be a prince, his complexion is nearer
to brown than black; stern, and yet noble,
he looks strong, fearless, indifferent to danger.
his eyes show he has a fire within him,
he resembles a rampant lion;
his hair hangs down his back, black and shining
like ravens' wings; his shoulders are broad and strong,
his arms long and muscular, and at his waist he has
a sword hung on a strange sash, to reinforce his
will when he is angry. I swear you could never
see a better friend for a soldier.
THESEUS
Thou hast well describ’d him.
You have described him well.
PIRITHOUS
Yet a great deal short,
Methinks, of him that’s first with Palamon.
But he doesn't match up, I think,
to the one by Palamon's side.
THESEUS
Pray speak him, friend.
Please tell us about him, friend.
PIRITHOUS
I guess he is a prince too,
And if it may be, greater; for his show
Has all the ornament of honor in’t.
He’s somewhat bigger than the knight he spoke of,
But of a face far sweeter; his complexion
Is, as a ripe grape, ruddy. He has felt
Without doubt what he fights for, and so apter
To make this cause his own. In ’s face appears
All the fair hopes of what he undertakes,
And when he’s angry, then a settled valor
(Not tainted with extremes) runs through his body,
And guides his arm to brave things. Fear he cannot,
He shows no such soft temper. His head’s yellow,
Hard-hair’d, and curl’d, thick twin’d like ivy-tods,
Not to undo with thunder. In his face
The livery of the warlike maid appears,
Pure red and white, for yet no beard has blest him;
And in his rolling eyes sits victory,
As if she ever meant to crown his valor.
His nose stands high, a character of honor;
His red lips, after fights, are fit for ladies.
I guess he is a prince as well,
and if possible a greater one; his appearance
has all the signs of greatness.
He's rather bigger than the knight he spoke of,
but with a much sweeter face; his complexion
is as red as a ripe grape. He has obviously been in love,
and this makes him more likely
to join in this fight. In his face one can see
all the sweet hopes of what he's doing,
and when he's angry, then a calm bravery
(not spoilt with temper) runs through his body
which guides his hand to great deeds. He knows no fear,
he's a stranger to such weak emotions. His hair
is blond, with thick curly hair like ivy,
that couldn't be parted by thunder. Facially
he looks like a soldierly girl,
pure red and white, for he has no beard;
Victory shows in his roving eye, as if
she meant to reward his bravery.
he has a noble high arched nose;
his red lips would suit the ladies, after battle.
EMILIA
Must these men die too?
Are these men going to have to die too?
PIRITHOUS
When he speaks, his tongue
Sounds like a trumpet. All his lineaments
Are as a man would wish ’em, strong and clean.
He wears a well-steel’d axe, the staff of gold.
His age some five and twenty.
When he speaks, his tongue
Rings out like a trumpet. All the lines of his body
are just as a man would wish, strong and clean.
He carries sharp axe with a golden shaft.
He is around twenty five years old.
1. MESSENGER
There’s another,
A little man, but of a tough soul, seeming
As great as any. Fairer promises
In such a body yet I never look’d on.
There's another,
a little man, but hardy, who seems
as great as any of them. I never saw
anyone who showed such promise.
PIRITHOUS
O, he that’s freckle-fac’d?
Oh, the one with freckles?
1. MESSENGER
The same, my lord.
Are they not sweet ones?
The same one, my lord.
They look good, don't they?
PIRITHOUS
Yes, they are well.
They certainly do.
1. MESSENGER
Methinks,
Being so few and well dispos’d, they show
Great and fine art in nature. He’s white-hair’d,
Not wanton white, but such a manly color
Next to an auburn; tough and nimble set,
Which shows an active soul; his arms are brawny,
Lin’d with strong sinews; to the shoulder-piece
Gently they swell, like women new conceiv’d,
Which speaks him prone to labor, never fainting
Under the weight of arms; stout-hearted, still,
But when he stirs, a tiger. He’s grey-ey’d,