Original
Modern English
Farewell, young lords; these warlike principles Do not throw from you: and you, my lords, farewell: Share the advice betwixt you; if both gain, all The gift doth stretch itself as ’tis received, And is enough for both.
Goodbye, young lords; don’t discard these principles of war: And you, my lords, goodbye: Share the advice between you; if both succeed, everything The gift extends to both as it’s given, And is enough for both.
’Tis our hope, sir, After well enter’d soldiers, to return And find your grace in health.
We hope so, sir, After being properly trained soldiers, to return And find your grace in good health.
No, no, it cannot be; and yet my heart Will not confess he owes the malady That doth my life besiege. Farewell, young lords; Whether I live or die, be you the sons Of worthy Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- Those bated that inherit but the fall Of the last monarchy,--see that you come Not to woo honour, but to wed it; when The bravest questant shrinks, find what you seek, That fame may cry you loud: I say, farewell.
No, no, that can’t happen; yet my heart Will not admit it is responsible for the illness That surrounds my life. Goodbye, young lords; Whether I live or die, be you the sons Of noble Frenchmen: let higher Italy,-- Those who only inherit the fall Of the last great kingdom,--see that you come Not to seek honor, but to marry it; when The bravest seeker falters, find what you search for, So that fame may shout your names: I say, goodbye.
Health, at your bidding, serve your majesty!
May health, at your command, serve your majesty!
Those girls of Italy, take heed of them: They say, our French lack language to deny, If they demand: beware of being captives, Before you serve.
Be careful of those girls from Italy: They say our Frenchmen can’t refuse them if they ask, Beware of becoming captives, Before you serve.
Our hearts receive your warnings.
Our hearts take your warnings to heart.
Farewell. Come hither to me.
Goodbye. Come over here to me.
O, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
Oh, my sweet lord, that you will stay behind us!
’Tis not his fault, the spark.
It’s not his fault, the young man.
O, ’tis brave wars!
Oh, it’s such glorious wars!
Most admirable: I have seen those wars.
Most impressive: I’ve seen those wars.
I am commanded here, and kept a coil with ’Too young’ and ’the next year’ and ’’tis too early.’
I’ve been ordered here, and held back with ‘Too young’ and ‘next year’ and ‘it’s too early.’
An thy mind stand to’t, boy, steal away bravely.
If you’re set on it, boy, run off boldly.
I shall stay here the forehorse to a smock, Creaking my shoes on the plain masonry, Till honour be bought up and no sword worn But one to dance with! By heaven, I’ll steal away.
I’ll stay here, the lead horse to a woman’s shift, Making my shoes squeak on the hard stone, Until honor is earned and no sword is carried Except one for dancing! By heaven, I’ll slip away.
There’s honour in the theft.
There’s honor in the theft.
Commit it, count.
Do it, count.
I am your accessary; and so, farewell.
I’ll be your accomplice; goodbye.
I grow to you, and our parting is a tortured body.
I’m growing fond of you, and our goodbye feels like a painful wound.
Farewell, captain.
Goodbye, captain.
Sweet Monsieur Parolles!
Farewell, Monsieur Parolles!
Noble heroes, my sword and yours are kin. Good sparks and lustrous, a word, good metals: you shall find in the regiment of the Spinii one Captain Spurio, with his cicatrice, an emblem of war, here on his sinister cheek; it was this very sword entrenched it: say to him, I live; and observe his reports for me.
Noble men, my sword and yours are brothers. Good fire and bright, a word, good steel: you’ll find in the ranks of the Spinii one Captain Spurio, with his battle scar, a mark of war, here on his left cheek; this very sword gave him that scar: tell him I live; and watch his reports for me.
We shall, noble captain.
We will, noble captain.
Mars dote on you for his novices! what will ye do?
May Mars bless you as his beginners! What will you do?
Stay: the king.
Wait: the king.
[To BERTRAM] Use a more spacious ceremony to the noble lords; you have restrained yourself within the list of too cold an adieu: be more expressive to them: for they wear themselves in the cap of the time, there do muster true gait, eat, speak, and move under the influence of the most received star; and though the devil lead the measure, such are to be followed: after them, and take a more dilated farewell.
[To BERTRAM] Show a more elaborate gesture to the noble lords; you’ve kept your goodbye too brief: be more open with them: they follow the trends of the time, moving, eating, speaking, and acting under the influence of the most popular star; and even if the devil leads, they are to be followed: after them, give a more elaborate farewell.
And I will do so.
I’ll do that.
Worthy fellows; and like to prove most sinewy sword-men.
Good men; and likely to be very strong fighters.
[Kneeling] Pardon, my lord, for me and for my tidings.
[Kneeling] Pardon me, my lord, for both myself and my news.
I’ll fee thee to stand up.
I’ll pay you to stand up.
Then here’s a man stands, that has brought his pardon. I would you had kneel’d, my lord, to ask me mercy, And that at my bidding you could so stand up.
Then here’s a man standing, who has brought his pardon. I wish you had knelt, my lord, to ask me for forgiveness, And that you could stand up at my command.
I would I had; so I had broke thy pate, And ask’d thee mercy for’t.
I wish I had; then I would have broken your head, And asked you for forgiveness for it.
Good faith, across: but, my good lord ’tis thus; Will you be cured of your infirmity?
Honestly, you’re right: but, my good lord, it’s like this; Do you want to be cured of your illness?
No.
No.
O, will you eat no grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will my noble grapes, an if My royal fox could reach them: I have seen a medicine That’s able to breathe life into a stone, Quicken a rock, and make you dance canary With spritely fire and motion; whose simple touch, Is powerful to araise King Pepin, nay, To give great Charlemain a pen in’s hand, And write to her a love-line.
Oh, will you not eat any grapes, my royal fox? Yes, but you will, my noble grapes, if My royal fox could reach them: I’ve seen a medicine That can bring life to a stone, Revive a rock, and make you dance happily With lively energy and movement; whose simple touch, Can raise King Pepin, and even Give great Charlemagne a pen in his hand, And make him write a love letter to her.
What ’her’ is this?
What ’her’ is this?
Why, Doctor She: my lord, there’s one arrived, If you will see her: now, by my faith and honour, If seriously I may convey my thoughts In this my light deliverance, I have spoke With one that, in her sex, her years, profession, Wisdom and constancy, hath amazed me more Than I dare blame my weakness: will you see her For that is her demand, and know her business? That done, laugh well at me.
Why, Doctor She: my lord, there’s someone here, If you want to see her: now, by my faith and honor, If I may speak seriously in this small matter, I’ve spoken With someone who, in her gender, her age, her profession, Her wisdom and constancy, has amazed me more Than I care to admit: will you see her, For that’s her request, and know her purpose? After that, laugh at me well.
Now, good Lafeu, Bring in the admiration; that we with thee May spend our wonder too, or take off thine By wondering how thou took’st it.
Now, good Lafeu, Bring in the one who amazes us; so that we can marvel with you Or take away your surprise By wondering how you were so amazed.
Nay, I’ll fit you, And not be all day neither.
No, I’ll match you, And not take all day either.
Thus he his special nothing ever prologues.
This man always starts with nothing special.
Nay, come your ways.
Come on, let’s go.
This haste hath wings indeed.
This is really fast.
Nay, come your ways: This is his majesty; say your mind to him: A traitor you do look like; but such traitors His majesty seldom fears: I am Cressid’s uncle, That dare leave two together; fare you well.
Come on, let’s go: This is the king; speak your mind to him: You look like a traitor; but such traitors The king rarely fears: I am Cressid’s uncle, And I dare leave two people together; good-bye.
Now, fair one, does your business follow us?
So, fair lady, does your business follow us?
Ay, my good lord. Gerard de Narbon was my father; In what he did profess, well found.
Yes, my lord. Gerard de Narbon was my father; In what he did, he was highly skilled.
I knew him.
I knew him.
The rather will I spare my praises towards him: Knowing him is enough. On’s bed of death Many receipts he gave me: chiefly one. Which, as the dearest issue of his practise, And of his old experience the oily darling, He bade me store up, as a triple eye, Safer than mine own two, more dear; I have so; And hearing your high majesty is touch’d With that malignant cause wherein the honour Of my dear father’s gift stands chief in power, I come to tender it and my appliance With all bound humbleness.
I would rather not praise him too much: Knowing him is enough. On his deathbed He gave me many remedies: especially one. Which, as the most important result of his work, And the thing he trusted most from his experience, He told me to keep it, like a third eye, Safer than my own two, more precious; I have done so; And hearing that your majesty is affected By that dangerous condition where my dear father’s gift Is most powerful, I have come to offer it to you With all the humility I can muster.
We thank you, maiden; But may not be so credulous of cure, When our most learned doctors leave us and The congregated college have concluded That labouring art can never ransom nature From her inaidible estate; I say we must not So stain our judgment, or corrupt our hope, To prostitute our past-cure malady To empirics, or to dissever so Our great self and our credit, to esteem A senseless help when help past sense we deem.
We thank you, young lady; But we cannot easily believe in cures, When our most learned doctors give up on us and The assembled experts have concluded That hard work can never free nature From her inevitable fate; I say we must not So ruin our judgment, or lose hope, By trusting a cure that we believe is beyond help, To quacks, or risk our reputation, By accepting a senseless cure when we’ve already given up on it.
My duty then shall pay me for my pains: I will no more enforce mine office on you. Humbly entreating from your royal thoughts A modest one, to bear me back again.
Then my duty will be my reward: I will no longer force my services on you. Humbly asking only for your royal thoughts To send me back again in a modest way.
I cannot give thee less, to be call’d grateful: Thou thought’st to help me; and such thanks I give As one near death to those that wish him live: But what at full I know, thou know’st no part, I knowing all my peril, thou no art.
I can’t thank you enough to be called grateful: You thought you could help me; and this is the thanks I give As one near death gives to those who wish him to live: But what I fully understand, you do not know, I knowing all my danger, and you not understanding it.
What I can do can do no hurt to try, Since you set up your rest ’gainst remedy. He that of greatest works is finisher Oft does them by the weakest minister: So holy writ in babes hath judgment shown, When judges have been babes; great floods have flown From simple sources, and great seas have dried When miracles have by the greatest been denied. Oft expectation fails and most oft there Where most it promises, and oft it hits Where hope is coldest and despair most fits.
What I can do can do no harm to try, Since you’ve made up your mind to reject a cure. He who finishes the greatest works Often does so through the weakest means: Even the Bible has shown judgment through children, When judges have been children; great floods have come From simple sources, and great seas have dried When the greatest people have denied miracles. Often expectation fails and most often where It promises the most, and often it succeeds Where hope is weakest and despair fits best.
I must not hear thee; fare thee well, kind maid; Thy pains not used must by thyself be paid: Proffers not took reap thanks for their reward.
I must not listen to you; good-bye, kind lady; Your efforts, if unused, must be rewarded by yourself: Offers that are rejected bring thanks in return.
Inspired merit so by breath is barr’d: It is not so with Him that all things knows As ’tis with us that square our guess by shows; But most it is presumption in us when The help of heaven we count the act of men. Dear sir, to my endeavours give consent; Of heaven, not me, make an experiment. I am not an impostor that proclaim Myself against the level of mine aim; But know I think and think I know most sure My art is not past power nor you past cure.
Inspired merit is often blocked by breath: It’s not the same with Him who knows everything As it is with us who judge by appearances; But it’s most often presumptuous for us when We treat heaven’s help as the act of men. Dear sir, give your consent to my efforts; Let heaven, not me, be the one tested. I am not a fraud who tries To act beyond my abilities; But I know, and I am sure, that my skill is not beyond power nor you beyond cure.
Are thou so confident? within what space Hopest thou my cure?
Are you so sure? In what time frame Do you hope for my cure?
The great’st grace lending grace Ere twice the horses of the sun shall bring Their fiery torcher his diurnal ring, Ere twice in murk and occidental damp Moist Hesperus hath quench’d his sleepy lamp, Or four and twenty times the pilot’s glass Hath told the thievish minutes how they pass, What is infirm from your sound parts shall fly, Health shall live free and sickness freely die.
The greatest grace giving grace Before the sun’s horses circle around again And his fiery chariot completes its daily path, Before twice the evening star has dimmed his sleepy light, Or twenty-four times the clock has told the thief-like minutes how they go, Whatever is weak in your healthy parts will vanish, Health will live freely and sickness will die without struggle.
Upon thy certainty and confidence What darest thou venture?
On your certainty and confidence, What will you risk?
Tax of impudence, A strumpet’s boldness, a divulged shame Traduced by odious ballads: my maiden’s name Sear’d otherwise; nay, worse--if worse--extended With vilest torture let my life be ended.
The tax of shamelessness, A prostitute’s boldness, a shame exposed Through hateful songs: my reputation Burned in another way; no, worse—if worse—extended With the worst possible punishment, let my life end.
Methinks in thee some blessed spirit doth speak His powerful sound within an organ weak: And what impossibility would slay In common sense, sense saves another way. Thy life is dear; for all that life can rate Worth name of life in thee hath estimate, Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all That happiness and prime can happy call: Thou this to hazard needs must intimate Skill infinite or monstrous desperate. Sweet practiser, thy physic I will try, That ministers thine own death if I die.
I think some blessed spirit speaks through you, His powerful voice in a weak body: And what seems impossible to kill In ordinary sense, sense finds another way to save. Your life is precious; for everything that life can value Worth the name of life in you has worth, Youth, beauty, wisdom, courage, all That happiness and prime can call happy: You must be either infinitely skilled or desperately reckless to risk this. Sweet healer, I will try your medicine, That could cause your death if it causes mine.
If I break time, or flinch in property Of what I spoke, unpitied let me die, And well deserved: not helping, death’s my fee; But, if I help, what do you promise me?
If I break my word, or fail in what I promised, Let me die without pity, And I’ll have deserved it: not helping, death is my payment; But if I help, what will you promise me?
Make thy demand.
Make your request.
But will you make it even?
But will you make it fair?
Ay, by my sceptre and my hopes of heaven.
Yes, by my scepter and my hopes of heaven.
Then shalt thou give me with thy kingly hand What husband in thy power I will command: Exempted be from me the arrogance To choose from forth the royal blood of France, My low and humble name to propagate With any branch or image of thy state; But such a one, thy vassal, whom I know Is free for me to ask, thee to bestow.
Then you shall give me, with your royal hand, The husband I choose from your power: Let it be exempt from me the arrogance To choose from the royal blood of France, To lift my low and humble name With any branch or image of your rank; But someone, your servant, whom I know Is free for me to ask, and you to give.
Here is my hand; the premises observed, Thy will by my performance shall be served: So make the choice of thy own time, for I, Thy resolved patient, on thee still rely. More should I question thee, and more I must, Though more to know could not be more to trust, From whence thou camest, how tended on: but rest Unquestion’d welcome and undoubted blest. Give me some help here, ho! If thou proceed As high as word, my deed shall match thy meed.
Here is my hand; the terms observed, Your will will be fulfilled by my actions: So make your choice in your own time, for I, Your steadfast patient, still rely on you. I should ask you more, and I must, Though knowing more wouldn’t mean I trust you more, Where you came from, how you were raised: but rest Welcome without question and blessed beyond doubt. Give me some help here, ho! If you proceed As boldly as you speak, my actions will match your reward.