The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 670
he was going to fly. He always smiles in welcome,
and sighs at those who leave. No, there's no point in virtue
wanting credit for the things it has done;
for beauty, wit, high birth, bodily strength, good service,
love, friendship, charity, they are all
gobbled up by jealous and slandering Time.
There is one human weakness that everybody has,
which is that everybody praises newly minted things,
even if they are made and moulded by past events,
and they give more praise to trivial things that glitter
than solid gold which has a little dust on it.
The most recent eye praises the most recent object.
So don't be surprised, you great and accomplished man,
that all the Greeks have begun to worship Ajax,
since things which are moving catch the eye better
than things which are still. They once gave you their praise,
and they might even now, yes, again,
if you wouldn't bury yourself alive
and imprison your reputation in your tent,
one whose glorious deeds on this battlefield just recently
made even the gods join in the war,
and even great Mars took a side.
ACHILLES.
Of this my privacy
I have strong reasons.
I have good reason
for my isolation.
ULYSSES.
But 'gainst your privacy
The reasons are more potent and heroical.
'Tis known, Achilles, that you are in love
With one of Priam's daughters.
But against your isolation
there are more powerful and heroic reasons.
It's known, Achilles, that you're in love
with one of Priam's daughters.
ACHILLES.
Ha! known!
Ha! known!
ULYSSES.
Is that a wonder?
The providence that's in a watchful state
Knows almost every grain of Plutus' gold;
Finds bottom in th' uncomprehensive deeps;
Keeps place with thought, and almost, like the gods,
Do thoughts unveil in their dumb cradles.
There is a mystery-with whom relation
Durst never meddle-in the soul of state,
Which hath an operation more divine
Than breath or pen can give expressure to.
All the commerce that you have had with Troy
As perfectly is ours as yours, my lord;
And better would it fit Achilles much
To throw down Hector than Polyxena.
But it must grieve young Pyrrhus now at home,
When fame shall in our island sound her trump,
And all the Greekish girls shall tripping sing
'Great Hector's sister did Achilles win;
But our great Ajax bravely beat down him.'
Farewell, my lord. I as your lover speak.
The fool slides o'er the ice that you should break.
Is it any surprise?
The prudent management of a watchful nation
knows every grain of gold it owns;
it reaches down to the bottom of the ocean;
it moves as rapidly as thought, and almost, like the gods,
knows your thoughts before they are spoken.
There is a mystery–which should not be
discussed–about the heart of a nation,
which works in a way which is more godlike
than speech or writing can express.
All the dealings you have had with Troy
are known to us as well as they are to yourself, my lord;
it would be more suitable for Achilles
to lay down Hector than Polyxena.
But your young son Pyrrhus who is now at home
will surely get upset when the rumours reach our islands
and all the Greek girls will dance and sing:
‘Achilles won great Hector's sister,
but it was our great Ajax who bravely beat Hector.’
Farewell, my lord. I'm speaking as your friend;
the fool can get away with things that will ruin you.
Exit
PATROCLUS.
To this effect, Achilles, have I mov'd you.
A woman impudent and mannish grown
Is not more loath'd than an effeminate man
In time of action. I stand condemn'd for this;
They think my little stomach to the war
And your great love to me restrains you thus.
Sweet, rouse yourself; and the weak wanton Cupid
Shall from your neck unloose his amorous fold,
And, like a dew-drop from the lion's mane,
Be shook to airy air.
This is what I have been telling you, Achilles.
A woman who has become shameless and manlike
isn't more horrible than a womanish man
when it's time for action. I am criticised for this;
they think my dislike of the war
and your great love for me is holding you back.
Dearest, rouse yourself; and the weak lusty Cupid
shall release his amorous hold on your neck,
and be shaken off into the empty air
like a dew drop from a lion's mane.
ACHILLES.
Shall Ajax fight with Hector?
Will Ajax fight with Hector?
PATROCLUS.
Ay, and perhaps receive much honour by him.
Yes, and maybe get great glory from it.
ACHILLES.
I see my reputation is at stake;
My fame is shrewdly gor'd.
I see my reputation is at stake;
my fame is badly wounded.
PATROCLUS.
O, then, beware:
Those wounds heal ill that men do give themselves;
Omission to do what is necessary
Seals a commission to a blank of danger;
And danger, like an ague, subtly taints
Even then when they sit idly in the sun.
Well beware then;
self-inflicted wounds heal badly;
failing to do what is necessary
gives danger a blank cheque;
and danger, like a fever, creeps over us,
even when we are just sitting idly in the sun.
ACHILLES.
Go call Thersites hither, sweet Patroclus.
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and desire him
T' invite the Troyan lords, after the combat,
To see us here unarm'd. I have a woman's longing,
An appetite that I am sick withal,
To see great Hector in his weeds of peace;
To talk with him, and to behold his visage,
Even to my full of view.
Enter THERSITES
A labour sav'd!
Go and call Thersites here, sweet Patroclus.
I'll send the fool to Ajax, and ask him
to invite the Trojan Lords, after the combat,
to visit us here unarmed. I have a desperate longing,
like a woman, that's making me sick,
to see great Hector out of his armour;
to talk with him, and to see his face,
to get my fill of it.
There's a trouble saved.
THERSITES.
A wonder!
Amazing!
ACHILLES.
What?
What?
THERSITES.
Ajax goes up and down the field asking for himself.
Ajax is going up and down the field, calling for himself.
ACHILLES.
How so?
Want you mean?
THERSITES.
He must fight singly to-morrow with Hector, and is so
prophetically proud of an heroical cudgelling that he
raves in
saying nothing.
He is having a single combat tomorrow with Hector, and is so
certain that he is going to give him an heroic beating
that he raves incoherently.
ACHILLES.
How can that be?
What is he doing?
THERSITES.
Why, 'a stalks up and down like a peacock-a stride and a
stand; ruminaies like an hostess that hath no arithmetic but her
brain to set down her reckoning, bites his lip with a politic
regard, as who should say 'There were wit in this head, an
'twould out'; and so there is; but it lies as coldly in him as
fire in a flint, which will not show without knocking. The man's
undone for ever; for if Hector break not his neck i' th' combat,
he'll break't himself in vainglory. He knows not me. I said 'Good
morrow, Ajax'; and he replies 'Thanks, Agamemnon.' What think you
of this man that takes me for the general? He's grown a very land
fish, languageless, a monster. A plague of opinion! A man may
wear it on both sides, like leather jerkin.
Well, he marches up and down like a peacock, strutting and
standing. He stands thinking like a landlady who has to add up
the bill in her head, bites his lip with a wise look,
as if one should say, ‘there is intelligence in this head,
and we shall see it’; and there is too, but in him it's as cold as
fire in flint, you can't get it out without bashing it. The man is
lost for ever; because if Hector doesn't break his neck in the fight,
he'll break himself with vanity. He didn't recognise me. I said ‘good
day, Ajax’; and he replied ‘thanks, Agamemnon.’ What do you think
of this man who mistakes me for the general? He's a fish out of
water, a speechless monster. Damn this business of what men think of themselves!
A man can wear it whichever way he wants, like a jerkin.
ACHILLES.
Thou must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
You must be my ambassador to him, Thersites.
THERSITES.
Who, I? Why, he'll answer nobody; he professes not
answering. Speaking is for beggars: he wears his tongue in's
arms. I will put on his presence. Let Patroclus make his demands
to me, you shall see the pageant of Ajax.
Who, me? Why, he'll speak to nobody; he is determined he will not
answer. Speaking is for beggars, his way of speaking is with his
weapons. I'll show you what he looks like. Let Patroclus ask me
his questions, I'll give you a show of Ajax.
ACHILLES.
To him, Patroclus. Tell him I humbly desire the valiant
Ajax to invite the most valourous Hector to come unarm'd to my
tent; and to procure safe conduct for his person of the
magnanimous and most illustrious six-or-seven-times-honour'd
Captain General of the Grecian army, et cetera, Agamemnon. Do
this.
Speak to him, Patroclus. Tell him that I humbly request the brave
Ajax to invite the most courageous Hector to come unarmed to my
tent; and to get a guarantee of safe conduct for him from the
generous and most exalted many times honoured
Captain General of the Greek army, and so forth, Agamemnon. Do
this.
PATROCLUS.
Jove bless great Ajax!
Jove bless great Ajax!
THERSITES.
Hum!
Hum!
PATROCLUS.
I come from the worthy Achilles-
I have come from the good Achilles–
THERSITES.
Ha!
Ha!
PATROCLUS.
Who most humbly desires you to invite Hector to his
tent-
Who most humbly requests that you invite Hector to his
tent-
THERSITES.
Hum!
Hum!
PATROCLUS.
And to procure safe conduct from Agamemnon.
And that you obtain a safe conduct from Agamemnon.
THERSITES.
Agamemnon!
Agamemnon!
PATROCLUS.
Ay, my lord.
Yes, my lord.
THERSITES.
Ha!
Ha!
PATROCLUS.
What you say to't?
What's your answer?
THERSITES.
God buy you, with all my heart.
With all my heart, goodbye.
PATROCLUS.
Your answer, sir.
What is your answer, sir?
THERSITES.
If to-morrow be a fair day, by eleven of the clock it
will go one way or other. Howsoever, he shall pay for me ere he
has me.
If there is good weather tomorrow, by eleven o'clock it
will have been decided one way or the other. Whatever happens
he's going to have to suffer to beat me.
PATROCLUS.
Your answer, sir.
Give me your answer, sir.
THERSITES.
Fare ye well, with all my heart.
With all my heart, farewell.
ACHILLES.
Why, but he is not in this tune, is he?
He isn't really singing this tune, is he?
THERSITES.
No, but he's out a tune thus. What music will be in him
when Hector has knock'd out his brains I know not; but, I am sure,
none; unless the fiddler Apollo get his sinews to make callings
on.
No, but this is what he's singing out of tune. What music he'll have left
when Hector has knocked his brains out I don't know; but, I am certain,
there won't be any; unless Apollo takes his sinews and makes strings out of them.
ACHILLES.
Come, thou shalt bear a letter to him straight.
Come on, you shall take him a letter at once.
THERSITES.
Let me carry another to his horse; for that's the more
capable creature.
Give me another one to take to his horse; that's the one
with more brains.
ACHILLES.
My mind is troubled, like a fountain stirr'd;
And I myself see not the bottom of it.
Exeunt ACHILLES and PATROCLUS
My mind is troubled, like a stream that has been stirred up;
I can't see to the bottom of it.
THERSITES.
Would the fountain of your mind were clear again, that I
might water an ass at it. I had rather be a tick in a sheep than
such a valiant ignorance.
I wish the stream of your mind was running clear again, so I
could bring an ass to drink at it. I'd rather be a tick on a sheep than
have such brave stupidity.
Exit
Enter, at one side, AENEAS, and serva, and servant with a torch; at another, PARIS, DEIPHOBUS, ANTENOR, DIOMEDES the Grecian, and others, with torches
PARIS.
See, ho! Who is that there?
Hello! Who's that over there?
DEIPHOBUS.
It is the Lord Aeneas.
It is the Lord Aeneas.
AENEAS.
Is the Prince there in person?
Had I so good occasion to lie long
As you, Prince Paris, nothing but heavenly business
Should rob my bed-mate of my company.
Is that the Prince himself?
If I had such a good reason to stay in bed late
as you, Prince Paris, nothing but business with the gods
DIOMEDES.
That's my mind too. Good morrow, Lord Aeneas.
That's what I think. Good day, Lord Aeneas.
PARIS.
A valiant Greek, Aeneas -take his hand:
Witness the process of your speech, wherein
You told how Diomed, a whole week by days,
Did haunt you in the field.
A brave Greek, Aeneas–take his hand:
remember what you yourself said, when
you told us how Diomedes followed you around
the battlefield every day for a week.
AENEAS.
Health to you, valiant sir,
During all question of the gentle truce;
But when I meet you arm'd, as black defiance
As heart can think or courage execute.
I wish you good health, brave Sir,
during this time of peaceful truce;
but when I meet you on the battlefield, I offer the sternest defiance
the heart can imagine or courage enact.
DIOMEDES.
The one and other Diomed embraces.
Our bloods are now in calm; and so long health!
But when contention and occasion meet,
By Jove, I'll play the hunter for thy life
With all my force, pursuit, and policy.
Diomedes welcomes both.
Everything is peaceful now, and so good health to you!
But come the time we meet on the battlefield,