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Modern English
Where is he?
Where is he?
I did not see him since.
I haven’t seen him since.
See where he is, who’s with him, what he does: I did not send you: if you find him sad, Say I am dancing; if in mirth, report That I am sudden sick: quick, and return.
Go find out where he is, who he’s with, and what he’s doing: I didn’t send you. If he seems sad, tell him I’m dancing; if he’s happy, say that I’m suddenly sick. Hurry, and come back.
Madam, methinks, if you did love him dearly, You do not hold the method to enforce The like from him.
Madam, I think, if you really loved him, You wouldn’t be so bad at getting him to love you back.
What should I do, I do not?
What should I be doing that I’m not?
In each thing give him way, cross him nothing.
In everything, give him what he wants, don’t argue with him.
Thou teachest like a fool; the way to lose him.
You’re teaching me like a fool; that’s how you’ll lose him.
Tempt him not so too far; I wish, forbear: In time we hate that which we often fear. But here comes Antony.
Don’t push him too far; I think you should stop: Over time, we start to hate what we fear too much. But here comes Antony.
I am sick and sullen.
I’m feeling sick and gloomy.
I am sorry to give breathing to my purpose,--
I’m sorry to bother you with this,--
Help me away, dear Charmian; I shall fall: It cannot be thus long, the sides of nature Will not sustain it.
Help me away, dear Charmian; I might collapse: It can’t go on like this much longer, my body can’t handle it.
Now, my dearest queen,--
Now, my dearest queen,--
Pray you, stand further from me.
Please, stand further away from me.
What’s the matter?
What’s the matter?
I know, by that same eye, there’s some good news. What says the married woman? You may go: Would she had never given you leave to come! Let her not say ’tis I that keep you here: I have no power upon you; hers you are.
I can tell by your look, there’s some good news. What does the married woman say? You can leave: I wish she had never let you come here! Don’t let her say it’s my fault you’re staying here: I have no control over you; you’re hers.
The gods best know,--
The gods know best,--
O, never was there queen So mightily betray’d! yet at the first I saw the treasons planted.
Oh, never was there a queen So terribly betrayed! Yet from the start I could see the treachery growing.
Cleopatra,--
Cleopatra,--
Why should I think you can be mine and true, Though you in swearing shake the throned gods, Who have been false to Fulvia? Riotous madness, To be entangled with those mouth-made vows, Which break themselves in swearing!
Why should I believe you can be faithful to me, Even though you swear by the gods, Who were unfaithful to Fulvia? It’s madness, To get caught up in vows made with words, Which break apart as soon as they’re spoken!
Most sweet queen,--
Most sweet queen,--
Nay, pray you, seek no colour for your going, But bid farewell, and go: when you sued staying, Then was the time for words: no going then; Eternity was in our lips and eyes, Bliss in our brows’ bent; none our parts so poor, But was a race of heaven: they are so still, Or thou, the greatest soldier of the world, Art turn’d the greatest liar.
No, please, don’t make excuses for leaving, Just say goodbye and go: when you begged me to stay, That was the time for words: not now, not when you’re leaving; Back then, we had forever in our eyes and words, Happiness in our expressions; none of us were so poor, That we weren’t part of something heavenly: we still are, Or you, the greatest soldier in the world, Have become the greatest liar.
How now, lady!
What’s wrong, lady?
I would I had thy inches; thou shouldst know There were a heart in Egypt.
I wish I had your strength; then you would know What it feels like to have a heart in Egypt.
Hear me, queen: The strong necessity of time commands Our services awhile; but my full heart Remains in use with you. Our Italy Shines o’er with civil swords: Sextus Pompeius Makes his approaches to the port of Rome: Equality of two domestic powers Breed scrupulous faction: the hated, grown to strength, Are newly grown to love: the condemn’d Pompey, Rich in his father’s honour, creeps apace, Into the hearts of such as have not thrived Upon the present state, whose numbers threaten; And quietness, grown sick of rest, would purge By any desperate change: my more particular, And that which most with you should safe my going, Is Fulvia’s death.
Listen to me, queen: The urgent needs of the time demand My services for a little while, but my full heart Remains with you. In Italy, War is raging: Sextus Pompeius Is approaching the gates of Rome: When two powerful factions fight for control, It causes confusion: the ones who hated each other, now strong, Are growing to love each other again: Pompey, the condemned, Rich in his father’s honor, is quickly gaining ground, In the hearts of those who have struggled In the current situation, whose numbers are growing; And peace, tired of resting, is ready for any change: what will make My leaving safer, and what should concern you most, Is Fulvia’s death.
Though age from folly could not give me freedom, It does from childishness: can Fulvia die?
Though age didn’t free me from foolishness, It does free me from childishness: can Fulvia really be dead?
She’s dead, my queen: Look here, and at thy sovereign leisure read The garboils she awaked; at the last, best: See when and where she died.
She’s dead, my queen: Look here, and when you have time, read About the troubles she caused; and in the end, the worst part: See when and where she died.
O most false love! Where be the sacred vials thou shouldst fill With sorrowful water? Now I see, I see, In Fulvia’s death, how mine received shall be.
Oh, what a false love this is! Where are the sacred jars you should fill With tears of sorrow? Now I understand, I understand, In Fulvia’s death, how my own will be received.
Quarrel no more, but be prepared to know The purposes I bear; which are, or cease, As you shall give the advice. By the fire That quickens Nilus’ slime, I go from hence Thy soldier, servant; making peace or war As thou affect’st.
Stop arguing, and be ready to understand My reasons for leaving; which are, or will end, Depending on what advice you give. By the fire That makes the Nile’s waters fertile, I leave from here, Your soldier, your servant; making peace or war As you wish.
Cut my lace, Charmian, come; But let it be: I am quickly ill, and well, So Antony loves.
Cut my corset, Charmian, come; But let it be: I’m quickly sick, but okay, As Antony loves me.
My precious queen, forbear; And give true evidence to his love, which stands An honourable trial.
My precious queen, stop; And show true evidence of your love, which is An honorable test.
So Fulvia told me. I prithee, turn aside and weep for her, Then bid adieu to me, and say the tears Belong to Egypt: good now, play one scene Of excellent dissembling; and let it look Life perfect honour.
That’s what Fulvia told me. Please, turn away and weep for her, Then say goodbye to me, and tell me the tears Belong to Egypt: okay, now perform one last scene Of perfect lying; and make it look like Life is full of honor.
You’ll heat my blood: no more.
You’ll make me angry: no more.
You can do better yet; but this is meetly.
You could do even better, but this is good enough.
Now, by my sword,--
Now, by my sword,--
And target. Still he mends; But this is not the best. Look, prithee, Charmian, How this Herculean Roman does become The carriage of his chafe.
And shield. He’s still improving; But this isn’t the best. Look, please, Charmian, How this mighty Roman handles The way he moves when he’s angry.
I’ll leave you, lady.
I’ll leave you, lady.
Courteous lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, but that’s not it: Sir, you and I have loved, but there’s not it; That you know well: something it is I would, O, my oblivion is a very Antony, And I am all forgotten.
Kind lord, one word. Sir, you and I must part, but that’s not all: Sir, you and I have loved, but that’s not the whole story; You know this well: there’s something I want, Oh, my forgetfulness is like Antony himself, And I’m completely forgotten.
But that your royalty Holds idleness your subject, I should take you For idleness itself.
But if your royal position Didn’t let you be idle, I’d think you Were idleness itself.
’Tis sweating labour To bear such idleness so near the heart As Cleopatra this. But, sir, forgive me; Since my becomings kill me, when they do not Eye well to you: your honour calls you hence; Therefore be deaf to my unpitied folly. And all the gods go with you! upon your sword Sit laurel victory! and smooth success Be strew’d before your feet!
It’s exhausting work To carry such idleness so close to the heart As Cleopatra does. But, sir, forgive me; Since my actions hurt me when they don’t Suit you well: your honor calls you away; So please ignore my unhelpful foolishness. And may all the gods be with you! May your sword Be crowned with victory! And may smooth success Be spread before your feet!
Let us go. Come; Our separation so abides, and flies, That thou, residing here, go’st yet with me, And I, hence fleeting, here remain with thee. Away!
Let’s go. Come; Our separation is so strong and constant, That while you stay here, you’re still with me, And even though I leave, I remain with you. Goodbye!