Original
Modern English
O Jupiter, how weary are my spirits!
Oh Jupiter, how tired I am!
I care not for my spirits, if my legs were not weary.
I don’t care about my spirits, as long as my legs aren’t so tired.
I could find in my heart to disgrace my man’s apparel and to cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker vessel, as doublet and hose ought to show itself courageous to petticoat: therefore courage, good Aliena!
I almost feel like I could give up my man’s clothes and cry like a woman; but I must comfort the weaker person, as a jacket and pants should show courage to a skirt: so, be brave, good Aliena!
I pray you, bear with me; I cannot go no further.
Please, bear with me; I can’t go any farther.
For my part, I had rather bear with you than bear you; yet I should bear no cross if I did bear you, for I think you have no money in your purse.
As for me, I’d rather bear with you than carry you; though I wouldn’t mind carrying you, since I think you have no money in your purse.
Well, this is the forest of Arden.
Well, this is the Forest of Arden.
Ay, now am I in Arden; the more fool I; when I was at home, I was in a better place: but travellers must be content.
Yes, now I’m in Arden; what a fool I am; when I was at home, I was in a better place; but travelers must learn to be content.
Ay, be so, good Touchstone.
Yes, so be it, good Touchstone.
Look you, who comes here; a young man and an old in solemn talk.
Look, who’s coming here? A young man and an old man having a serious conversation.
That is the way to make her scorn you still.
That’s the way to make her despise you even more.
O Corin, that thou knew’st how I do love her!
Oh Corin, if only you knew how much I love her!
I partly guess; for I have loved ere now.
I kind of understand; because I’ve loved before.
No, Corin, being old, thou canst not guess, Though in thy youth thou wast as true a lover As ever sigh’d upon a midnight pillow: But if thy love were ever like to mine-- As sure I think did never man love so-- How many actions most ridiculous Hast thou been drawn to by thy fantasy?
No, Corin, being old, you can’t understand, Though in your youth you were as true a lover As anyone who ever sighed on a midnight pillow: But if your love was ever like mine-- As I’m sure no man has ever loved like this-- How many ridiculous things Have you been made to do by your imagination?
Into a thousand that I have forgotten.
Thousands of things, most of which I’ve forgotten.
O, thou didst then ne’er love so heartily! If thou remember’st not the slightest folly That ever love did make thee run into, Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not sat as I do now, Wearying thy hearer in thy mistress’ praise, Thou hast not loved: Or if thou hast not broke from company Abruptly, as my passion now makes me, Thou hast not loved. O Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
Oh, then you never loved so deeply! If you don’t remember even the smallest foolish thing That love made you do, You haven’t loved: Or if you haven’t sat like I am now, Boring your listener with praise of your lady, You haven’t loved: Or if you haven’t suddenly run off from company Like I’m doing now because of my passion, You haven’t loved. Oh Phebe, Phebe, Phebe!
Alas, poor shepherd! searching of thy wound, I have by hard adventure found mine own.
Poor shepherd! While trying to help your wound, I’ve accidentally discovered my own.
And I mine. I remember, when I was in love I broke my sword upon a stone and bid him take that for coming a-night to Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batlet and the cow’s dugs that her pretty chopt hands had milked; and I remember the wooing of a peascod instead of her, from whom I took two cods and, giving her them again, said with weeping tears ’Wear these for my sake.’ We that are true lovers run into strange capers; but as all is mortal in nature, so is all nature in love mortal in folly.
And I’ve found mine. I remember, when I was in love, I broke my sword on a stone and told him to take that for coming at night to see Jane Smile; and I remember the kissing of her batlet and the cow’s teats that her pretty little hands had milked; and I remember the courting of a pea pod instead of her, from which I took two peas and, giving them back to her, said with weeping tears, "Wear these for my sake." We true lovers do strange things; but just like everything in nature is mortal, so is everything in love also mortal and foolish.
Thou speakest wiser than thou art ware of.
You speak more wisely than you realize.
Nay, I shall ne’er be ware of mine own wit till I break my shins against it.
No, I’ll never be aware of my own wit until I break my shins on it.
Jove, Jove! this shepherd’s passion Is much upon my fashion.
Jove, Jove! this shepherd’s passion Is very much like mine.
And mine; but it grows something stale with me.
And mine; but it’s starting to feel a bit stale to me.
I pray you, one of you question yond man If he for gold will give us any food: I faint almost to death.
Please, one of you ask that man If he’ll give us some food for gold: I’m almost fainting from hunger.
Holla, you clown!
Hey, you clown!
Peace, fool: he’s not thy kinsman.
Quiet, fool: he’s not your relative.
Who calls?
Who’s calling?
Your betters, sir.
Your superiors, sir.
Else are they very wretched.
Otherwise, they are very miserable.
Peace, I say. Good even to you, friend.
Quiet, I say. Good evening to you, friend.
And to you, gentle sir, and to you all.
And to you, kind sir, and to you all.
I prithee, shepherd, if that love or gold Can in this desert place buy entertainment, Bring us where we may rest ourselves and feed: Here’s a young maid with travel much oppress’d And faints for succor.
I beg you, shepherd, if love or money Can buy us hospitality in this lonely place, Take us to a place where we can rest and eat: Here’s a young woman, exhausted from travel, And she’s fainting from lack of help.
Fair sir, I pity her And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, My fortunes were more able to relieve her; But I am shepherd to another man And do not shear the fleeces that I graze: My master is of churlish disposition And little recks to find the way to heaven By doing deeds of hospitality: Besides, his cote, his flocks and bounds of feed Are now on sale, and at our sheepcote now, By reason of his absence, there is nothing That you will feed on; but what is, come see. And in my voice most welcome shall you be.
Dear sir, I feel sorry for her And wish, for her sake more than for mine own, That I could do more to help her; But I work for another man And don’t own the sheep I tend: My master is rude and stingy And doesn’t care about helping others, Or about getting to heaven Through acts of kindness: Besides, his coat, his sheep, and his pasture Are all up for sale, and right now, Because he’s away, there’s nothing For you to eat here, except what’s left. But if you come, you’ll be warmly welcomed.
What is he that shall buy his flock and pasture?
Who is the one who will buy his sheep and land?
That young swain that you saw here but erewhile, That little cares for buying any thing.
The young man you saw here a little while ago, He’s not interested in buying anything.
I pray thee, if it stand with honesty, Buy thou the cottage, pasture and the flock, And thou shalt have to pay for it of us.
I beg you, if it’s right, Buy the house, the pasture, and the flock, And we will pay you for it.
And we will mend thy wages. I like this place. And willingly could waste my time in it.
And we’ll increase your wages. I like this place. I could gladly spend my time here.
Assuredly the thing is to be sold: Go with me: if you like upon report The soil, the profit and this kind of life, I will your very faithful feeder be And buy it with your gold right suddenly.
It’s certainly for sale: Come with me: if you like what you hear About the land, the profit, and this kind of life, I will be your very loyal servant And buy it with your money right away.