The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 693
If it be not, then love doth well denote
Love's eye is not so true as all men's 'No.'
How can it? O, how can Love's eye be true,
That is so vex'd with watching and with tears?
No marvel then, though I mistake my view;
The sun itself sees not till heaven clears.
O cunning Love! with tears thou keep'st me blind,
Lest eyes well-seeing thy foul faults should find.
Oh my, what eyes has Love put into my head,
Which have no correspondence with true sight!
Or, if they have, where has my judgment gone,
That wrongly judges what they see right?
If what my eyes dote on looks beautiful to me,
What does it mean when the world says that’s not the case?
If it’s not, then love would do well to distinguish
That Love’s eye is not as accurate as all men’s ‘No.’
How can it be? Oh, how can Love’s eye be true,
When it is so troubled with watching and with tears?
It’s no wonder, then, that I mistake my view;
The sun itself does not see until the skies clear.
Oh, cunning Love! With tears you keep me blind,
Because well-seeing eyes would find your ugly faults.
Canst thou, O cruel! say I love thee not,
When I against myself with thee partake?
Do I not think on thee, when I forgot
Am of myself, all tyrant, for thy sake?
Who hateth thee that I do call my friend?
On whom frown'st thou that I do fawn upon?
Nay, if thou lour'st on me, do I not spend
Revenge upon myself with present moan?
What merit do I in myself respect,
That is so proud thy service to despise,
When all my best doth worship thy defect,
Commanded by the motion of thine eyes?
But, love, hate on, for now I know thy mind;
Those that can see thou lovest, and I am blind.
Can you, oh cruel woman, say that I don’t love you
When I take sides with you against myself?
Don’t I think about you, even when I forgetTo think about myself for your sake, you tyrant?
Who hates you that I would call my friend?
Is there anyone I delight in that you frown upon?
No, if you scowl at me, don’t I expend
Revenge upon myself with moaning?
What quality do I respect in myself,
That would make me so proud to despise being your servant,
When all of the best of me worships your worst,
And you can command me with a simple motion of your eyes?
But, love, go ahead and hate me, because now I know your mind;
You love those who can see, and I am blind.
O, from what power hast thou this powerful might
With insufficiency my heart to sway?
To make me give the lie to my true sight,
And swear that brightness doth not grace the day?
Whence hast thou this becoming of things ill,
That in the very refuse of thy deeds
There is such strength and warrantize of skill
That, in my mind, thy worst all best exceeds?
Who taught thee how to make me love thee more
The more I hear and see just cause of hate?
O, though I love what others do abhor,
With others thou shouldst not abhor my state:
If thy unworthiness raised love in me,
More worthy I to be beloved of thee.
What power gives you the powerful ability you have
To be able to control my heart even though you are so inadequate?
To make me lie about what I really see,
And swear that the day is not bright when it is?
Where did you get this ability to make bad things look good,
So that even in the very worst of your actions,
You guarantee so much strength and skill
That, in my mind, your worst is better than all the best?
Who taught you how to make me love you more
The more I hear and see good reason to hate you?
Oh, even though I love what others despise,
You shouldn’t despise my love for you the way others do:
Since your unworthiness makes me love you,
Then I’m the one who is most deserving of your love.
Love is too young to know what conscience is;
Yet who knows not conscience is born of love?
Then, gentle cheater, urge not my amiss,
Lest guilty of my faults thy sweet self prove:
For, thou betraying me, I do betray
My nobler part to my gross body's treason;
My soul doth tell my body that he may
Triumph in love; flesh stays no father reason;
But, rising at thy name, doth point out thee
As his triumphant prize. Proud of this pride,
He is contented thy poor drudge to be,
To stand in thy affairs, fall by thy side.
No want of conscience hold it that I call
Her 'love' for whose dear love I rise and fall.
Love is too young to know right from wrong,
But doesn’t everyone know that love gives you a conscience?
So, gentle cheater, don’t go on too much about what I’ve done wrong,
In case your sweet self turns out to be guilty of the same faults:
Because you have betrayed me, I, in turn, betray
My higher self to my lowly body’s needs.
My soul tells my body that it may
Find joy in sex; my flesh doesn’t wait to hear any more reasons;
At the sound of your name, flesh rises and points you out
As his glorious prize. Swollen with pride
He is happy to be your poor worker,
And to stand up to tend to your business and then fall down by your side.
It is not necessarily due to lack of conscience that I call
The woman whose love makes me rise and fall ‘Love.’
In loving thee thou know'st I am forsworn,
But thou art twice forsworn, to me love swearing,
In act thy bed-vow broke and new faith torn,
In vowing new hate after new love bearing.
But why of two oaths' breach do I accuse thee,
When I break twenty? I am perjured most;
For all my vows are oaths but to misuse thee
And all my honest faith in thee is lost,
For I have sworn deep oaths of thy deep kindness,
Oaths of thy love, thy truth, thy constancy,
And, to enlighten thee, gave eyes to blindness,
Or made them swear against the thing they see;
For I have sworn thee fair; more perjured I,
To swear against the truth so foul a lie!
By loving you I know I am breaking a promise I made,
But you, in swearing to love me, are breaking two promises:
You are breaking your wedding vows by cheating and your promise
Of love to your new lover by swearing to hate him.
But how can I accuse you of breaking two promises,
When I break twenty? I perjure the most,
Because all of my promises are only told to deceive you.
All of my real trust in you is gone,
Because I have sworn deeply that you are so kind,
And have sworn of your love, your faithfulness, and you constancy,
And, to make you look better, I blinded myself to your faults
And made my eyes swear they did not see what they saw;
Because I have sworn you are beautiful, I am more of a liar,
And have sworn against what is true after telling such an awful lie!
Cupid laid by his brand, and fell asleep:
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A maid of Dian's this advantage found,
And his love-kindling fire did quickly steep
In a cold valley-fountain of that ground;
Which borrow'd from this holy fire of Love
A dateless lively heat, still to endure,
And grew a seething bath, which yet men prove
Against strange maladies a sovereign cure.
But at my mistress' eye Love's brand new-fired,
The boy for trial needs would touch my breast;
I, sick withal, the help of bath desired,
And thither hied, a sad distemper'd guest,
But found no cure: the bath for my help lies
Where Cupid got new fire--my mistress' eyes.
Cupid set down his flaming torch and fell asleep:
A maiden of Diana’s took advantage of the situation
And soaked his love-igniting fire
In a cold mountain stream that was nearby.
The stream borrowed from the holy fire of Love
A live-giving heat that is eternal, and so still endures,
And the stream became a bubbling bath, which men still find
Offers an outstanding cure against strange diseases.
But at a glance from my mistress, Love’s flaming torch fired up again,
And, to test it out, Love touched it against my breast;
I was made sick by this, and desired the help of the stream’s bath,
And I hurried into it as a sad and sick guest,
But I found no cure there: the cure for my distress lies
Only in the place where Love got his new fire: my mistress’s eyes.
The little Love-god lying once asleep
Laid by his side his heart-inflaming brand,
Whilst many nymphs that vow'd chaste life to keep
Came tripping by; but in her maiden hand
The fairest votary took up that fire
Which many legions of true hearts had warm'd;
And so the general of hot desire
Was sleeping by a virgin hand disarm'd.
This brand she quenched in a cool well by,
Which from Love's fire took heat perpetual,
Growing a bath and healthful remedy
For men diseased; but I, my mistress' thrall,
Came there for cure, and this by that I prove,
Love's fire heats water, water cools not love.
The little Love-God Cupid once fell asleep
After placing his heart-inflaming torch by his side.
Several nymphs that had vowed to remain chaste for life
Came skipping by, and one of them,
Who was the most beautiful, picked up the fire
Which had warmed the hearts of armies of true lovers;
And so the leader of hot desire
Was asleep when a virgin disarmed him.
She extinguished the torch in a cool pool water nearby,
Which absorbed the perpetual heat of Cupid’s fire
And became a bath that provides a healthy remedy
For men who are diseased; but I, enslaved to my mistress,
Came there for the cure and tested the waters to find:
Love’s fire heats water, but water does not cool love.
Table of Contents
About This Series
Histories
King John
Characters
Act I
SCENE 1
Act II.
SCENE 1
Act III
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
Act IV.
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
Act V
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
SCENE 5.
SCENE 6.
SCENE 7.
King Richard the Second
Characters
Act I
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
SCENE IV.
ACT II.
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
SCENE IV.
ACT III.
SCENE I.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
SCENE IV.
ACT IV.
SCENE I.
ACT V.
SCENE 1.
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
SCENE IV.
SCENE V.
SCENE VI.
King Richard III
Characters
ACT I
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
ACT II
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
ACT III
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
SCENE 5.
SCENE 6.
SCENE 7.
ACT IV.
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
SCENE 5.
ACT V.
SCENE 1.
SCENE 2.
SCENE 3.
SCENE 4.
SCENE 5.
Henry IV: Part One
Characters
Act I
Scene I.
Scene II. The same. An Apartment of Prince Henry's.
Scene III. The Same.A Room in the Palace.
Act II
Scene I. Rochester. An Inn-Yard.
Scene II. The Road by Gads-hill.
Scene III. Warkworth.A Room in the Castle.
Scene IV. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's-Head Tavern.
Act III
Scene I. Bangor. A Room in the Archdeacon's House.
Scene II. London. A Room in the Palace.
Scene III. Eastcheap. A Room in the Boar's-Head Tavern.
Act IV
Scene I. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene II. A public Road near Coventry.
Scene III. The Rebel Camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene IV. York.A Room in the Archbishop's Palace.
Act V
Scene I. The King's Camp near Shrewsbury.
Scene II. The Rebel Camp.
Scene III. Plain between the Camps.
Scene IV. Another Part of the Field.
Scene V. Another Part of the Field.
Henry IV, Part Two
CHARACTERS
INDUCTION
ACT I
SCENE 1. The same.
SCENE II. London. A street.
SCENE III. York. The Archbishop's palace.
ACT II
SCENE I. London. A street.
SCENE II. London. Another street.
SCENE III. Warkworth. Before the castle.
SCENE IV. London. The Boar's-head Tavern in Eastcheap.
ACT III
SCENE I. Westminster. The palace.
SCENE II. Gloucestershire. Before Justice Shallow's house.
ACT IV
SCENE I. Yorkshire. Gaultree Forest.
SCENE II. Another part of the forest.
SCENE III. Another part of the forest.
SCENE IV. Westminster. The Jerusalem Chamber.
SCENE V. Another chamber.
ACT V
SCENE 1. Gloucestershire. Shallow's house.
SCENE II. Westminster. The palace.
SCENE III. Gloucestershire. Shallow's orchard.
SCENE IV. London. A street.
SCENE V. A public place near Westminster Abbey.
Henry V
Characters
Act I
Prologue
Scene I: London. An ante-chamber in the King’s palace.
Scene II: The same. The Presence chamber.
Act II
Prologue
&n
bsp; Scene I: London. A street.
Scene II: Southampton. A council-chamber.
Scene III: London. Before a tavern.
Scene IV: France. The King’s Palace.
Act III
Prologue
Scene I: France. Before Harfleur.
Scene II: The same.
Scene III: The same. Before the gates.
Scene IV: The French King’s palace.
Scene V: The same.
Scene VI: the English camp in Picardy.
Scene VII: The French camp, near Agincourt.
Act IV
Prologue
Scene I: The English camp at Agincourt.
Scene II: The French camp.
Scene III: The English camp.
Scene IV: The field of battle.
Scene V: Another part of the field.
Scene VI: Another part of the field.
Scene VII: Another part of the field.
Scene VIII: Before King Henry’s pavilion.
Act V
Prologue
Scene I: France. The English camp.
Scene II: France. A royal palace.
Henry VI: Part 1
Characters
Act I
SCENE I
SCENE II.
SCENE III.
SCENE IV. Orleans.
SCENE V. The same.
SCENE VI. The Same.
Act II
SCENE I. Before Orleans.
SCENE II. Orleans. Within the town.
SCENE III. Auvergne. The Countess's castle.
SCENE IV. London. The Temple-garden.
SCENE V. The Tower of London.
Act III
SCENE I. London. The Parliament-house.
SCENE II. France. Before Rouen.
SCENE III. The plains near Rouen.
SCENE IV. Paris. The palace.
Act IV
SCENE I. Paris. A hall of state.
SCENE II. Before Bordeaux.
SCENE III. Plains in Gascony.
SCENE IV. Other plains in Gascony.
SCENE V. The English camp near Bordeaux.
SCENE VI. A field of battle.
SCENE VII. Another part of the field.
Act V
SCENE I. London. The palace.
SCENE II. France. Plains in Anjou.
SCENE III. Before Angiers.
SCENE IV. Camp of the Duke of York in Anjou.
SCENE V. London. The royal palace.
Henry VI: Part 2
Characters
Act I
SCENE I. London. The palace
SCENE II. The Duke of Gloster's House.
SCENE III. London. The palace.
SCENE IV. Gloster's Garden
ACT II
SCENE I. Saint Alban's.
SCENE II. London. The Duke of York's Garden.
SCENE III. A Hall of Justice.