The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 500
How swift his ship.
No, madam; for as long
as he could make me out, or I
could pick him out from the crowd, he stayed
on deck, still waving with his gloves, or his hat,
or his handkerchief, as if he wanted to show how
slowly and reluctantly his soul was going away,
compared to the speed of his ship.
IMOGEN.
Thou shouldst have made him
As little as a crow, or less, ere left
To after-eye him.
You should have waited until
he was as small as a crow, or smaller, before
you walked away.
PISANIO.
Madam, so I did.
Madam, that's what I did.
IMOGEN.
I would have broke mine eyestrings, crack'd them but
To look upon him, till the diminution
Of space had pointed him sharp as my needle;
Nay, followed him till he had melted from
The smallness of a gnat to air, and then
Have turn'd mine eye and wept. But, good Pisanio,
When shall we hear from him?
I would have strained my eyes to breaking point, broken them
just look at him, until the shrinking
of perspective had made him as small as a needlepoint;
no, I would have kept on watching until he had shrunk
from the size of a gnat to visibility, and then
I would have turned my eyes away and wept. But, good Pisanio,
when shall we hear from him?
PISANIO.
Be assur'd, madam,
With his next vantage.
You can be sure, madam,
at his earliest opportunity.
IMOGEN.
I did not take my leave of him, but had
Most pretty things to say. Ere I could tell him
How I would think on him at certain hours
Such thoughts and such; or I could make him swear
The shes of Italy should not betray
Mine interest and his honour; or have charg'd him,
At the sixth hour of morn, at noon, at midnight,
T' encounter me with orisons, for then
I am in heaven for him; or ere I could
Give him that parting kiss which I had set
Betwixt two charming words, comes in my father,
And like the tyrannous breathing of the north
Shakes all our buds from growing.
I didn't say a proper goodbye, I had
very sweet things to say. Before I could tell him
how I would think different thoughts of him
at different times; or I could make him swear
that the women of Italy wouldn't
turn his head; or have ordered him,
at six in the morning, at noon, at midnight,
to pray at the same time as me, for then
I would be in heaven with him; before I could
give him that parting kiss, which I meant to come
between two charming words, in comes my father,
and like the chilly north wind
stopped our buds from flowering.
Enter a LADY
LADY.
The Queen, madam,
Desires your Highness' company.
The Queen, madam,
wants to see your Highness.
IMOGEN.
Those things I bid you do, get them dispatch'd.
I will attend the Queen.
Attend to those things I told you to do.
I will wait on the Queen.
PISANIO.
Madam, I shall.
Exeunt
Madam, I shall.
Enter PHILARIO, IACHIMO, a FRENCHMAN, a DUTCHMAN, and a SPANIARD
IACHIMO.
Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. He was
then
of a crescent note, expected to prove so worthy as since he
hath
been allowed the name of. But I could then have look'd on him
without the help of admiration, though the catalogue of his
endowments had been tabled by his side, and I to peruse him
by
items.
Believe it, sir, I have seen him in Britain. At that time he was
on the rise, expected to show himself as good as he has
since proved. But I could have looked at him without
everyone praising him, as if there was a catalogue of accomplishments
by his side, and I had to tick them off one by one.
PHILARIO.
You speak of him when he was less furnish'd than now
he
is with that which makes him both without and within.
You're speaking of the time when he was less equipped
with those qualities which make him, both internal and external.
FRENCHMAN.
I have seen him in France; we had very many there
could
behold the sun with as firm eyes as he.
I have seen him in France; we have very many
good strong men like him there.
IACHIMO.
This matter of marrying his king's daughter, wherein
he
must be weighed rather by her value than his own, words him,
I
doubt not, a great deal from the matter.
This business of marrying his king's daughter, in which
he must be judged according to her value, not his own,
gives him, I think, a far greater reputation than he deserves.
FRENCHMAN.
And then his banishment.
And then his exile -
IACHIMO.
Ay, and the approbation of those that weep this
lamentable
divorce under her colours are wonderfully to extend him, be
it
but to fortify her judgment, which else an easy battery might
lay
flat, for taking a beggar, without less quality. But how
comes it
he is to sojourn with you? How creeps acquaintance?
Yes, and her followers who lament this separation
are very keen to give him their approval, so that
it justifies her choice, which otherwise one might
say was very questionable. But why is he
coming to stay with you? How has he wangled an introduction?
PHILARIO.
His father and I were soldiers together, to whom I
have
been often bound for no less than my life.
Enter POSTHUMUS
Here comes the Briton. Let him be so entertained amongst you as suits with gentlemen of your knowing to a stranger of his quality. I beseech you all be better known to this gentleman, whom I commend to you as a noble friend of mine. How worthy he is I will leave to appear hereafter, rather than story him in his own hearing.
His father and I were soldiers together, and I
have often owed him my life.
Here comes the Briton. Give him a welcome
suitable from gentlemen of your
experience to a foreigner of his class. I would like you
all to get to know this gentleman, whom I
recommend to you as a noble friend of mine.
I'll leave you to find out how good he is,
rather than embarrass him by telling you about him now.
FRENCHMAN.
Sir, we have known together in Orleans.
Sir, we knew each other in Orleans.
POSTHUMUS.
Since when I have been debtor to you for courtesies, which I will be ever to pay and yet pay still.
Since when I have been in debt to
you for your kindness, which I will always be paying and will never have settled the debt.
FRENCHMAN.
Sir, you o'errate my poor k
indness. I was glad I did atone my countryman and you; it had been pity you should have been put together with so mortal a purpose as then each bore, upon importance of so slight and trivial a nature.
Sir, you overrate my poor services.
I was glad I could reconcile you and my countryman; it
would have been a shame if you had come together
in such a deadly fight as you both intended, for
a matter of such little importance.
POSTHUMUS.
By your pardon, sir. I was then a young traveller; rather shunn'd to go even with what I heard than in my every action to be guided by others' experiences; but upon my mended judgment- if I offend not to say it is mended- my quarrel was not altogether slight.
You must excuse me, sir. I was a young
traveller then; I didn't want to look
as if I was being guided by others, so I
rejected everything I was told; but in my now better
judgement–if it's not boasting to say that it is better–my
grievance wasn't absolutely nothing.
FRENCHMAN.
Faith, yes, to be put to the arbitrement of swords, and by such two that would by all likelihood have confounded one the other or have fall'n both.
Well, yes it was, to put it to the test of
a duel, and by two such men who would probably
have fought it out to the death.
IACHIMO.
Can we, with manners, ask what was the difference?
Would it be rude to ask what caused the quarrel?
FRENCHMAN.
Safely, I think. 'Twas a contention in public, which may, without contradiction, suffer the report. It was much like an argument that fell out last night, where each of us fell in praise of our country mistresses; this gentleman at that time vouching- and upon warrant of bloody affirmation- his to be more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, constant, qualified, and less attemptable, than any the rarest of our ladies in France.
I think you can ask. It was a public argument,
which can be reported without further conflict. It was
very like an argument we had last night, where each of us
started praising the ladies of his country; this gentleman at that
time swore–and promised to prove it in a fight–that his
was more fair, virtuous, wise, chaste, loyal, accomplished and less
likely to be seduced, than any of the best ladies in France.
IACHIMO.
That lady is not now living, or this gentleman's opinion, by this, worn out.
That lady must be dead, or this gentleman must have
changed his opinion by now.
POSTHUMUS.
She holds her virtue still, and I my mind.
She hasn't changed, and I haven't changed my mind.
IACHIMO.
You must not so far prefer her fore ours of Italy.
You mustn't prefer her like that above our Italian ladies.
POSTHUMUS.
Being so far provok'd as I was in France, I would abate her nothing, though I profess myself her adorer, not her friend.
If I was provoked the same way I was in France, I
wouldn't change anything, although I will say I am her
honourable worshipper, not a cheap lover.
IACHIMO.
As fair and as good- a kind of hand-in-hand comparison- had been something too fair and too good for any lady in Britain. If she went before others I have seen as that diamond of yours outlustres many I have beheld, I could not but believe she excelled many; but I have not seen the most precious diamond that is, nor you the lady.
As fair and as good–a kind of like-for-like
comparison–would make her too fair and too good for any
lady in Britain. If she was as far ahead of othersI have seen as
that diamond of yours outshines many I have seen, I would
have to believe she was above many; but I haven't seen the most
valuable diamond there is, and you haven't seen the lady.
POSTHUMUS.
I prais'd her as I rated her. So do I my stone.
I gave her the praise I think she's worth. I do the same with my stone.
IACHIMO.
What do you esteem it at?
And what value do you give it?
POSTHUMUS.
More than the world enjoys.
Above than anything in the world.
IACHIMO.
Either your unparagon'd mistress is dead, or she's outpriz'd by a trifle.
Either your matchless mistress is dead, or she's
been beaten by a trinket.
POSTHUMUS.
You are mistaken: the one may be sold or given, if there were wealth enough for the purchase or merit for the gift; the other is not a thing for sale, and only the gift of the gods.
You are mistaken: one may be sold or
given, if you have enough money to buy it or you deserve
the gift; the other is not a thing which can be bought, and
can only be given by the gods.
IACHIMO.
Which the gods have given you?
Which one have the gods given you?
POSTHUMUS.
Which by their graces I will keep.
The thing that with their blessings I will keep.
IACHIMO.
You may wear her in title yours; but you know strange fowl light upon neighbouring ponds. Your ring may be stol'n too. So your brace of unprizable estimations, the one is but frail and the other casual; a cunning thief, or a that-way-accomplish'd courtier, would hazard the winning both of first and last.
She can be yours in name; but you know
women can entertain some strange visitors. Your ring could also
be stolen. So these two things you think are priceless, one is
weak and the other can be lost; a cunning thief, or a
amorous courtier, would back themselves to win
the pair of them.
POSTHUMUS.
Your Italy contains none so accomplish'd a courtier to convince the honour of my mistress, if in the holding or loss of that you term her frail. I do nothing doubt you have store of thieves; notwithstanding, I fear not my ring.
The whole of Italy doesn't contain such a skilful
courtier to lead my mistress astray, if that's what
you're implying by calling her frail. I've no doubt you have
plenty of thieves here; despite that, I'm not worried about my ring.
PHILARIO.
Let us leave here, gentlemen.
Let's go from here, gentlemen.
POSTHUMUS.
Sir, with all my heart. This worthy signior, I thank him, makes no stranger of me; we are familiar at first.
Sir, certainly. This worthy gentleman,
I thank him, doesn't treat me like a stranger; he's familiar from the start.
IACHIMO.
With five times so much conversation I should get ground of your fair mistress; make her go back even to the yielding, had I admittance and opportunity to friend.
With five times as much talk I could press home
my advantage on your fair mistress; I could make her retreat
until she gave up, if I only got a chance to talk to her.
POSTHUMUS.
No, no.
No, no.
IACHIMO.
I dare thereupon pawn the moiety of my estate to your ring, which, in my opinion, o'ervalues it something. But I make my wager rather against your confidence than her reputation; and, to bar your offence herein too, I durst attempt it against any lady in the world.
I would bet my inheritance against your ring on this,
which in my opinion rather overvalues it. But I
am making the bet against your confidence, meaning
no insult to her reputation; and to save you being offended
also, I would back myself to do this with any lady in th
e world.
POSTHUMUS.
You are a great deal abus'd in too bold a persuasion, and I doubt not you sustain what y'are worthy of by your attempt.
You are deluding yourself in thinking you
could manage this, and I'm sure if you tried
you would get what you deserve.
IACHIMO.
What's that?
What's that?
POSTHUMUS.
A repulse; though your attempt, as you call it, deserve more- a punishment too.
Rejection; though your attempt, as you call it,
would deserve more–a punishment too.
PHILARIO.
Gentlemen, enough of this. It came in too suddenly; let it die as it was born, and I pray you be better acquainted.
Gentlemen, that's enough. You flared up too
quickly; let the quarrel vanish as quickly, and I beg you to
get to know each other better.
IACHIMO.
Would I had put my estate and my neighbour's on th' approbation of what I have spoke!
I wish I'd bet my estate and my neighbour's on
my being able to do what I said!
POSTHUMUS.
What lady would you choose to assail?
What lady would you make your attempt on?
IACHIMO.
Yours, whom in constancy you think stands so safe. I will lay you ten thousand ducats to your ring that, commend me to the court where your lady is, with no more advantage than the opportunity of a second conference, and I will bring from thence that honour of hers which you imagine so reserv'd.