Original
Modern English
Go to him, Dolabella, bid him yield; Being so frustrate, tell him he mocks The pauses that he makes.
Go to him, Dolabella, tell him to surrender; Now that everything’s ruined, tell him he’s mocking The delays he’s making.
Caesar, I shall.
Caesar, I will.
Wherefore is that? and what art thou that darest Appear thus to us?
What’s this? And who are you, daring To show yourself like this to us?
I am call’d Dercetas; Mark Antony I served, who best was worthy Best to be served: whilst he stood up and spoke, He was my master; and I wore my life To spend upon his haters. If thou please To take me to thee, as I was to him I’ll be to Caesar; if thou pleasest not, I yield thee up my life.
I’m called Dercetas; I served Mark Antony, who was the best man Worth serving: when he stood strong and spoke, He was my master, and I risked my life For his enemies. If you want To take me as I was to him, I’ll be to Caesar; if not, I’ll give you my life.
What is’t thou say’st?
What are you saying?
I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
I say, O Caesar, Antony is dead.
The breaking of so great a thing should make A greater crack: the round world Should have shook lions into civil streets, And citizens to their dens: the death of Antony Is not a single doom; in the name lay A moiety of the world.
The fall of such a great man should cause A bigger stir: the whole world Should have shaken lions into the streets, And citizens into hiding: Antony’s death Is not just a personal loss; it represents Half of the world.
He is dead, Caesar: Not by a public minister of justice, Nor by a hired knife; but that self hand, Which writ his honour in the acts it did, Hath, with the courage which the heart did lend it, Splitted the heart. This is his sword; I robb’d his wound of it; behold it stain’d With his most noble blood.
He is dead, Caesar: Not by a public executioner, Or a hired assassin; but by his own hand, Which proved his honour in everything he did, Has, with the courage it gave him, Split his heart. This is his sword; I took it from his wound; here, see it stained With his most noble blood.
Look you sad, friends? The gods rebuke me, but it is tidings To wash the eyes of kings.
Do you look sad, friends? The gods punish me, but this is news That should make kings open their eyes.
And strange it is, That nature must compel us to lament Our most persisted deeds.
And it’s strange, That nature forces us to mourn Even our most stubborn actions.
His taints and honours Waged equal with him.
His flaws and honours Were balanced equally with him.
A rarer spirit never Did steer humanity: but you, gods, will give us Some faults to make us men. Caesar is touch’d.
A spirit like no other has ever guided mankind: but you, gods, will give us Some flaws to make us human. Caesar is affected.
When such a spacious mirror’s set before him, He needs must see himself.
When such a big mirror is put in front of him, He can’t help but see himself.
O Antony! I have follow’d thee to this; but we do lance Diseases in our bodies: I must perforce Have shown to thee such a declining day, Or look on thine; we could not stall together In the whole world: but yet let me lament, With tears as sovereign as the blood of hearts, That thou, my brother, my competitor In top of all design, my mate in empire, Friend and companion in the front of war, The arm of mine own body, and the heart Where mine his thoughts did kindle,--that our stars, Unreconciliable, should divide Our equalness to this. Hear me, good friends-- But I will tell you at some meeter season:
Oh Antony! I have followed you to this point; but we treat Diseases in our bodies: I had no choice But to show you such a difficult day, Or look at yours; we couldn’t stay together In the whole world: but still let me mourn, With tears as powerful as the blood of hearts, That you, my brother, my rival In the height of all ambition, my partner in ruling, Friend and companion in war, The strength of my own body, and the heart Where my thoughts once sparked,--that our fates, Unable to reconcile, should split Our equality like this. Listen to me, good friends-- But I’ll tell you at a better time:
The business of this man looks out of him; We’ll hear him what he says. Whence are you?
The intentions of this man are obvious; Let’s hear what he says. Where are you from?
A poor Egyptian yet. The queen my mistress, Confined in all she has, her monument, Of thy intents desires instruction, That she preparedly may frame herself To the way she’s forced to.
A poor Egyptian still. The queen, my mistress, Locked in all she has, her tomb, Wants to know your plans, So that she can prepare herself For the path she must take.
Bid her have good heart: She soon shall know of us, by some of ours, How honourable and how kindly we Determine for her; for Caesar cannot live To be ungentle.
Tell her to be strong: She will soon hear from us, through some of our people, How honorable and kind we are In our decisions for her; for Caesar cannot live To be harsh.
So the gods preserve thee!
May the gods protect you!
Come hither, Proculeius. Go and say, We purpose her no shame: give her what comforts The quality of her passion shall require, Lest, in her greatness, by some mortal stroke She do defeat us; for her life in Rome Would be eternal in our triumph: go, And with your speediest bring us what she says, And how you find of her.
Come here, Proculeius. Go and tell her, We mean her no disgrace: give her whatever comfort Her emotional state needs, In case, in her grief, she does something rash That could defeat us; for her life in Rome Would be eternal in our victory: go, And as quickly as you can, bring us her response, And tell us what you find out about her.
Caesar, I shall.
Caesar, I will.
Gallus, go you along.
Gallus, you go too.
Where’s Dolabella, To second Proculeius?
Where is Dolabella, To support Proculeius?
Dolabella!
Dolabella!
Let him alone, for I remember now How he’s employ’d: he shall in time be ready. Go with me to my tent; where you shall see How hardly I was drawn into this war; How calm and gentle I proceeded still In all my writings: go with me, and see What I can show in this.
Leave him alone, I remember now What he’s been doing: he’ll be ready in time. Come with me to my tent, and you will see How hard it was for me to get involved in this war; How calm and careful I was in everything I wrote: Come with me, and see for yourself.