The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 657
There let him stand and rave and cry for food.
If any one relieves or pities him,
For the offence he dies. This is our doom.
Some stay to see him fast'ned in the earth.
Bury him up to the chest in the earth, and starve him;
let him stand there and rave and cry for food.
If anyone helps or pities him
they shall die for it.This is my sentence.
Some of you stop here and make sure he is buried in the earth.
AARON.
Ah, why should wrath be mute and fury dumb?
I am no baby, I, that with base prayers
I should repent the evils I have done;
Ten thousand worse than ever yet I did
Would I perform, if I might have my will.
If one good deed in all my life I did,
I do repent it from my very soul.
Ah, why should my anger be quiet and my fury silent?
I am not some baby who will with groveling prayers
repent all the evils I have done;
If I had my way I'd do ten thousand more,
all worse than the ones I've already done.
If I ever did one good thing in my life
I'm sorry for it from the bottom of my soul.
LUCIUS.
Some loving friends convey the Emperor hence,
And give him burial in his father's grave.
My father and Lavinia shall forthwith
Be closed in our household's monument.
As for that ravenous tiger, Tamora,
No funeral rite, nor man in mourning weed,
No mournful bell shall ring her burial;
But throw her forth to beasts and birds to prey.
Her life was beastly and devoid of pity,
And being dead, let birds on her take pity.
Exeunt
Some loving friends carry the Emperor away,
and bury him in his father's grave.
My father and Lavinia shall be put at once
in our family mausoleum.
As for that vicious tiger, Tamora,
she shall have no funeral rites, no mourners,
no sad bell will toll for her burial;
throw her out to the animals and the birds of prey.
Her life was beastly and empty of pity,
so now she's dead, let the birds take pity on her.
PRIAM, King of Troy
His sons:
HECTOR
TROILUS
PARIS
DEIPHOBUS
HELENUS
MARGARELON, a bastard son of Priam
Trojan commanders:
AENEAS
ANTENOR
CALCHAS, a Trojan priest, taking part with the Greeks
PANDARUS, uncle to Cressida
AGAMEMNON, the Greek general
MENELAUS, his brother
Greek commanders:
ACHILLES
AJAX
ULYSSES
NESTOR
DIOMEDES
PATROCLUS
THERSITES, a deformed and scurrilous Greek
ALEXANDER, servant to Cressida
SERVANT to Troilus
SERVANT to Paris
SERVANT to Diomedes
HELEN, wife to Menelaus
ANDROMACHE, wife to Hector
CASSANDRA, daughter to Priam, a prophetess
CRESSIDA, daughter to Calchas
Trojan and Greek Soldiers, and Attendants
SCENE: Troy and the Greek camp before it
In Troy, there lies the scene. From isles of Greece
The princes orgillous, their high blood chaf'd,
Have to the port of Athens sent their ships
Fraught with the ministers and instruments
Of cruel war. Sixty and nine that wore
Their crownets regal from th' Athenian bay
Put forth toward Phrygia; and their vow is made
To ransack Troy, within whose strong immures
The ravish'd Helen, Menelaus' queen,
With wanton Paris sleeps-and that's the quarrel.
To Tenedos they come,
And the deep-drawing barks do there disgorge
Their war-like fraughtage. Now on Dardan plains
The fresh and yet unbruised Greeks do pitch
Their brave pavilions: Priam's six-gated city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien,
And Antenorides, with massy staples
And corresponsive and fulfilling bolts,
Sperr up the sons of Troy.
Now expectation, tickling skittish spirits
On one and other side, Troyan and Greek,
Sets all on hazard-and hither am I come
A Prologue arm'd, but not in confidence
Of author's pen or actor's voice, but suited
In like conditions as our argument,
To tell you, fair beholders, that our play
Leaps o'er the vaunt and firstlings of those broils,
Beginning in the middle; starting thence away,
To what may be digested in a play.
Like or find fault; do as your pleasures are;
Now good or bad, 'tis but the chance of war.
Troy is where our play starts.From the Greek islands
the proud princes, who have been angered,
have sent their ships to the port of Athens,
full of soldiers and weapons.
Sixty nine who wore
royal coronets sailed out from the bay of Athens
towards Phyriga; they have sworn
to destroy Troy, within whose strong walls
the kidnapped Helen, queen to Menelaus,
sleeps with lustful Paris - and that's what started the argument.
They come to Tenedos,
and the great ships there unload
their military cargo.Now the fresh and yet to be
wounded Greeks set up their great tents on
the plains of Troy: the six gates of Priam's city,
Dardan, and Tymbria, Helias, Chetas, Troien
and Antenorides, with great bolts in matching
brackets, protect the sons of Troy.
Now anticipation stirs up the lively spirits
on both sides, Trojan and Greek,
putting everything to chance - and I have come here,
a Prologue armed not with the weapons
of an author's pen or actor's voice but dressed
in a costume which suits this story,
to tell you, dear audience, that our play
skips over the opening skirmishes,
beginning in the middle; it starts there,
telling everything a play can.
Like it or criticise, do as you will;
whatever happens, we see it as the fortunes of war.
Enter TROILUS armed, and PANDARUS
TROILUS.
Call here my varlet; I'll unarm again.
Why should I war without the walls of Troy
That find such cruel battle here within?
Each Troyan that is master of his heart,
Let him to field; Troilus, alas, hath none!
Call my page here; I'll disarm again.
Why should I make war outside the walls of Troy
when I have such a battle raging inside me?
Every Trojan who is the master of his heart,
let him go to battle;Troilus, alas, is not!
PANDARUS.
Will this gear ne'er be mended?
Will this business never be straightened out?
TROILUS.
The Greeks are strong, and skilful to their strength,
Fierce to their skill, and to their fierceness valiant;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
Tamer than sleep, fonder than ignorance,
Less valiant than the virgin in the night,
And skilless as unpractis'd infancy.
&n
bsp; The Greeks are strong, with a skill that matches their strength,
a fierceness which matches their skill, and a bravery which matches their ferocity;
But I am weaker than a woman's tear,
softer than sleep, more stupid than ignorance,
as timid as a young girl in the night,
and as lacking in skill as a child.
PANDARUS.
Well, I have told you enough of this; for my part,
I'll not meddle nor make no farther. He that will have a cake
out of the wheat must needs tarry the grinding.
Well, I've spoken to you enough about this; I shall
have nothing more to do with it.Someone who wants
a wheat cake must wait for the wheat to be ground.
TROILUS.
Have I not tarried?
Haven't I waited?
PANDARUS.
Ay, the grinding; but you must tarry the bolting.
Yes, for the grinding; but you must wait for the flour to be sifted.
TROILUS.
Have I not tarried?
Haven't I waited?
PANDARUS.
Ay, the bolting; but you must tarry the leavening.
Yes, for the sifting, but you must wait for the dough to rise.
TROILUS.
Still have I tarried.
I've still waited.
PANDARUS.
Ay, to the leavening; but here's yet in the word
'hereafter' the kneading, the making of the cake, the heating
of the oven, and the baking; nay, you must stay the cooling too,
or you may chance to burn your lips.
Yes, for the rising; but there's plenty that still comes after
that, the kneading, making the cake, heating the oven,
baking; and you must wait for it to cool too,
or you might burn your lips.
TROILUS.
Patience herself, what goddess e'er she be,
Doth lesser blench at suff'rance than I do.
At Priam's royal table do I sit;
And when fair Cressid comes into my thoughts-
So, traitor, then she comes when she is thence.
Whatever goddess Patience is,
she doesn't suffer like I do.
I sit at Priam's royal table;
and then fair Cressida comes into my mind -
so, traitor to love, she's there even when she's absent.
PANDARUS.
Well, she look'd yesternight fairer than ever I saw her
look, or any woman else.
Well, last night she looked more beautiful than I'd ever seen her,
and more than any other woman as well.
TROILUS.
I was about to tell thee: when my heart,
As wedged with a sigh, would rive in twain,
Lest Hector or my father should perceive me,
I have, as when the sun doth light a storm,
Buried this sigh in wrinkle of a smile.
But sorrow that is couch'd in seeming gladness
Is like that mirth fate turns to sudden sadness.
I was about to tell you:when my heart
felt like it would split from sighing,
I have covered up the sigh with a smile
like when the sun shines in a storm,
so that Hector or my father wouldn't notice.
But sorrow hidden by faked happiness
is like the laughter which fate will suddenly turn to sadness.
PANDARUS.
An her hair were not somewhat darker than Helen's-well,
go to- there were no more comparison between the women. But, for
my part, she is my kinswoman; I would not, as they term it,
praise her, but I would somebody had heard her talk yesterday, as
I did. I will not dispraise your sister Cassandra's wit; but-
If her hair wasn't a little darker than Helen's - well, enough
of that - nobody would think of comparing them.But, I must say,
she is related to me; I don't want people to say I'm biased,
but I wish people had heard her her talk yesterday, as I did.
I won't put down your sister Cassandra's intelligence; but -
TROILUS.
O Pandarus! I tell thee, Pandarus-
When I do tell thee there my hopes lie drown'd,
Reply not in how many fathoms deep
They lie indrench'd. I tell thee I am mad
In Cressid's love. Thou answer'st 'She is fair'-
Pourest in the open ulcer of my heart-
Her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
Handlest in thy discourse. O, that her hand,
In whose comparison all whites are ink
Writing their own reproach; to whose soft seizure
The cygnet's down is harsh, and spirit of sense
Hard as the palm of ploughman! This thou tell'st me,
As true thou tell'st me, when I say I love her;
But, saying thus, instead of oil and balm,
Thou lay'st in every gash that love hath given me
The knife that made it.
Oh, Pandarus!I'm telling you, Pandarus -
when I tell you that all my hopes are drowned there,
don't tell me how many fathoms down
they've sunk.I'm telling you that love
of Cressida drives me mad.You say, 'She is beautiful'-
you push it into my broken heart -
her eyes, her hair, her cheek, her gait, her voice,
are all subjects of your talk.Oh, her hand
which makes all other white seem black,
its soft touch makes cygnet's feathers seem harsh,
makes the most delicate material
as hard as a ploughman's palm!You tell me this,
and you speak the truth, when I say I love her;
but, when you say this, it's not a sweet medicine,
you're twisting the knife of love in the wound.
PANDARUS.
I speak no more than truth.
I'm only speaking the truth.
TROILUS.
Thou dost not speak so much.
You're not saying half of it.
PANDARUS.
Faith, I'll not meddle in it. Let her be as she is: if
she be fair, 'tis the better for her; an she be not, she has the
mends in her own hands.
I swear I won't interfere.Let her be what she is:
if she's beautiful, good for her; if she's not, she can
make herself so.
TROILUS.
Good Pandarus! How now, Pandarus!
Good Pandarus!What do you mean, Pandarus!
PANDARUS.
I have had my labour for my travail, ill thought on of
her and ill thought on of you; gone between and between, but
small thanks for my labour.
I've had to work at the job, with both you and her
thinking badly of my efforts; I've been the go-between, but
got precious little thanks for my efforts.
TROILUS.
What, art thou angry, Pandarus? What, with me?
What, are you angry, Pandarus?What, with me?
PANDARUS.
Because she's kin to me, therefore she's not so fair as
Helen. An she were not kin to me, she would be as fair a Friday
as Helen is on Sunday. But what care I? I care not an she were a
blackamoor; 'tis all one to me.
Because I'm related to her, I can't say she's as beautiful as Helen.
If she wasn't, I'd say I think she's as lovely in her normal clothes
as Helen in her Sunday best.But what do I care?I wouldn't care
if she was black, it's all the same to me.
TROILUS.
Say I she is not fair?
Did I say she isn't beautiful?
PANDARUS.
I do not
care whether you do or no. She's a fool to stay
behind her father. Let her to the Greeks; and so I'll tell her
the next time I see her. For my part, I'll meddle nor make no
more i' th' matter.
I don't care whether you did or not. She's a fool to stay
with her father. Let her go to the Greeks; and that's what I'll tell her
the next time I see her. For my part, I'll have nothing more to do with the matter.
TROILUS.
Pandarus!
Pandarus!
PANDARUS.
Not I.
Not me.
TROILUS.
Sweet Pandarus!
Sweet Pandarus!
PANDARUS.
Pray you, speak no more to me: I will leave all
as I found it, and there an end.
Exit. Sound alarum
Please, no longer speak to me: I will leave everything
as I found it, and that's the end of it.
TROILUS.
Peace, you ungracious clamours! Peace, rude sounds!
Fools on both sides! Helen must needs be fair,
When with your blood you daily paint her thus.
I cannot fight upon this argument;
It is too starv'd a subject for my sword.
But Pandarus-O gods, how do you plague me!
I cannot come to Cressid but by Pandar;
And he's as tetchy to be woo'd to woo
As she is stubborn-chaste against all suit.
Tell me, Apollo, for thy Daphne's love,
What Cressid is, what Pandar, and what we?
Her bed is India; there she lies, a pearl;
Between our Ilium and where she resides
Let it be call'd the wild and wand'ring flood;
Ourself the merchant, and this sailing Pandar