Original
Modern English
Give me some music; music, moody food Of us that trade in love.
Give me some music; music, the kind of food We who are in love live on.
The music, ho!
The music, quick!
Let it alone; let’s to billiards: come, Charmian.
Forget the music; let’s play billiards: come, Charmian.
My arm is sore; best play with Mardian.
My arm hurts; better play with Mardian.
As well a woman with an eunuch play’d As with a woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir?
It’s just as good for a woman to play with an eunuch As with another woman. Come, you’ll play with me, sir?
As well as I can, madam.
As well as I can, madam.
And when good will is show’d, though’t come too short, The actor may plead pardon. I’ll none now: Give me mine angle; we’ll to the river: there, My music playing far off, I will betray Tawny-finn’d fishes; my bended hook shall pierce Their slimy jaws; and, as I draw them up, I’ll think them every one an Antony, And say ’Ah, ha! you’re caught.’
And when good intentions are shown, even if it doesn’t quite work out, The player can ask for forgiveness. I won’t play now: Give me my fishing rod; let’s go to the river: there, With my music playing in the distance, I’ll catch Brown-finned fish; my bent hook will pierce Their slimy mouths; and as I reel them in, I’ll imagine every one of them is Antony, And say, ‘Ha! You’re caught.’
’Twas merry when You wager’d on your angling; when your diver Did hang a salt-fish on his hook, which he With fervency drew up.
It was fun when You bet on your fishing; when your diver Hung a saltfish on his hook, and he Drew it up with great enthusiasm.
That time,--O times!-- I laugh’d him out of patience; and that night I laugh’d him into patience; and next morn, Ere the ninth hour, I drunk him to his bed; Then put my tires and mantles on him, whilst I wore his sword Philippan.
That time,--Oh, those times!-- I laughed him out of patience; and that night I laughed him into patience; and the next morning, Before the ninth hour, I drank him to sleep; Then I put my jewels and robes on him, while I wore his sword, Philippan.
O, from Italy Ram thou thy fruitful tidings in mine ears, That long time have been barren.
Oh, from Italy Bring me the good news that I’ve been waiting for, News that I’ve longed for, because I’ve had none for so long.
Madam, madam,--
Madam, madam,--
Antonius dead!--If thou say so, villain, Thou kill’st thy mistress: but well and free, If thou so yield him, there is gold, and here My bluest veins to kiss; a hand that kings Have lipp’d, and trembled kissing.
Antony’s dead! If you say that, villain, You will have killed your mistress. But if you speak freely, If he’s truly dead, here is gold, and here Are my royal veins for you to kiss; a hand that kings Have kissed, trembling with the honor of it.
First, madam, he is well.
First, madam, he is well.
Why, there’s more gold. But, sirrah, mark, we use To say the dead are well: bring it to that, The gold I give thee will I melt and pour Down thy ill-uttering throat.
Well, there’s more gold. But, listen, we often say the dead are well: if that’s all you mean, The gold I give you, I’ll melt and pour Down your lying throat.
Good madam, hear me.
Good madam, hear me.
Well, go to, I will; But there’s no goodness in thy face: if Antony Be free and healthful,--so tart a favour To trumpet such good tidings! If not well, Thou shouldst come like a Fury crown’d with snakes, Not like a formal man.
Alright, go ahead, I’ll listen; But you look like there’s no good in you: if Antony Is truly well and healthy,--how can you look so miserable Bringing such good news? If he’s not well, You should have come like a Fury, crowned with snakes, Not like a normal man.
Will’t please you hear me?
Will you please hear me out?
I have a mind to strike thee ere thou speak’st: Yet if thou say Antony lives, is well, Or friends with Caesar, or not captive to him, I’ll set thee in a shower of gold, and hail Rich pearls upon thee.
I feel like striking you before you even speak: But if you say Antony lives, is well, Or is on good terms with Caesar, or not captured by him, I’ll shower you with gold, and rain Rich pearls upon you.
Madam, he’s well.
Madam, he’s well.
Well said.
Well said.
And friends with Caesar.
And he’s friends with Caesar.
Thou’rt an honest man.
You’re an honest man.
Caesar and he are greater friends than ever.
Caesar and he are better friends than ever.
Make thee a fortune from me.
I’ll make you rich from me.
But yet, madam,--
But still, madam,--
I do not like ’But yet,’ it does allay The good precedence; fie upon ’But yet’! ’But yet’ is as a gaoler to bring forth Some monstrous malefactor. Prithee, friend, Pour out the pack of matter to mine ear, The good and bad together: he’s friends with Caesar: In state of health thou say’st; and thou say’st free.
I don’t like "But still," it weakens the importance; It’s like saying "Never mind that!" "But still" is like a prison guard bringing out Some terrible criminal. Please, friend, Tell me everything, the good and the bad together: he’s friends with Caesar: In good health, you say; and you say he’s free.
Free, madam! no; I made no such report: He’s bound unto Octavia.
Free, madam! No, I didn’t say that: He’s bound to Octavia.
For what good turn?
For what reason?
For the best turn i’ the bed.
For the best reason in bed.
I am pale, Charmian.
I’m going pale, Charmian.
Madam, he’s married to Octavia.
Madam, he’s married to Octavia.
The most infectious pestilence upon thee!
The worst kind of plague on you!
Good madam, patience.
Please, madam, be patient.
What say you? Hence,
What did you say? Get out,
Horrible villain! or I’ll spurn thine eyes Like balls before me; I’ll unhair thy head:
Horrible scoundrel! Or I’ll kick your eyes Like balls in front of me; I’ll tear your hair out:
Thou shalt be whipp’d with wire, and stew’d in brine, Smarting in lingering pickle.
You’ll be whipped with wire, and soaked in salt water, Suffering in a slow, painful punishment.
Gracious madam, I that do bring the news made not the match.
Gracious madam, I who bring the news didn’t make this match.
Say ’tis not so, a province I will give thee, And make thy fortunes proud: the blow thou hadst Shall make thy peace for moving me to rage; And I will boot thee with what gift beside Thy modesty can beg.
Say it’s not true, I’ll give you a province, And make your fortune proud: the blow you received Will make up for making me so angry; And I’ll reward you with whatever gift Your modesty can ask for.
He’s married, madam.
He’s married, madam.
Rogue, thou hast lived too long.
Traitor, you’ve lived too long.
Nay, then I’ll run. What mean you, madam? I have made no fault.
No, then I’ll run. What do you mean, madam? I’ve done nothing wrong.
Good madam, keep yourself within yourself: The man is innocent.
Please, madam, keep calm: The man is innocent.
Some innocents ’scape not the thunderbolt. Melt Egypt into Nile! and kindly creatures Turn all to serpents! Call the slave again: Though I am mad, I will not bite him: call.
Some innocent people don’t escape the lightning bolt. Turn all of Egypt into the Nile! Let the kind creatures Turn into snakes! Call the slave back: Even though I’m angry, I won’t hurt him: call.
He is afeard to come.
He’s afraid to come.
I will not hurt him.
I won’t hurt him.
These hands do lack nobility, that they strike A meaner than myself; since I myself Have given myself the cause.
These hands aren’t noble enough to strike Someone lower than me; since I’ve given myself The reason for this.
Come hither, sir. Though it be honest, it is never good To bring bad news: give to a gracious message. An host of tongues; but let ill tidings tell Themselves when they be felt.
Come here, sir. Even though it’s honest, it’s never good To bring bad news: give a gracious message A host of words; but let bad news speak For itself when it’s felt.
I have done my duty.
I’ve done my duty.
Is he married? I cannot hate thee worser than I do, If thou again say ’Yes.’
Is he married? I can’t hate you more than I do, If you say “Yes” again.
He’s married, madam.
He’s married, madam.
The gods confound thee! dost thou hold there still?
The gods destroy you! Are you still standing there?
Should I lie, madam?
Should I lie, madam?
O, I would thou didst, So half my Egypt were submerged and made A cistern for scaled snakes! Go, get thee hence: Hadst thou Narcissus in thy face, to me Thou wouldst appear most ugly. He is married?
Oh, I wish you would, So that half of Egypt would drown and become A pit for snakes! Go, get out of here: If you had Narcissus’ face, you’d look so ugly to me. He’s married?
I crave your highness’ pardon.
I beg your forgiveness, your highness.
He is married?
He’s married?
Take no offence that I would not offend you: To punish me for what you make me do. Seems much unequal: he’s married to Octavia.
Don’t take offense, I don’t mean to upset you: It wouldn’t be fair to punish me for what you made me say. He’s married to Octavia.
O, that his fault should make a knave of thee, That art not what thou’rt sure of! Get thee hence: The merchandise which thou hast brought from Rome Are all too dear for me: lie they upon thy hand, And be undone by ’em!
Oh, that his mistake should make a fool of you, You who aren’t sure of what you are! Get out of here: The gifts you’ve brought from Rome Are too expensive for me: may they stay with you, And ruin you!
Good your highness, patience.
Please, your highness, be patient.
In praising Antony, I have dispraised Caesar.
In praising Antony, I’ve insulted Caesar.
Many times, madam.
Many times, madam.
I am paid for’t now. Lead me from hence: I faint: O Iras, Charmian! ’tis no matter. Go to the fellow, good Alexas; bid him Report the feature of Octavia, her years, Her inclination, let him not leave out The colour of her hair: bring me word quickly.
I’m being punished for it now. Lead me away: I’m fainting: Oh, Iras, Charmian! It doesn’t matter. Go to the man, good Alexas; tell him To describe Octavia to me, her age, Her personality, and don’t forget The color of her hair: bring me word quickly.
Let him for ever go:--let him not--Charmian, Though he be painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way’s a Mars. Bid you Alexas
Let him go forever:—let him not—Charmian, Even if he’s painted one way like a Gorgon, The other way like a warrior god. Tell Alexas
Bring me word how tall she is. Pity me, Charmian, But do not speak to me. Lead me to my chamber.
Tell me how tall she is. Have pity on me, Charmian, But don’t speak to me. Take me to my room.