Original
Modern English
My necessaries are embark’d. Farewell. And, sister, as the winds give benefit And convoy is assistant, do not sleep, But let me hear from you.
My things are packed. Goodbye. And, sister, as the winds are favorable And the ship’s crew is helping, don’t sleep, But let me hear from you.
Do you doubt that?
Do you think I will doubt that?
For Hamlet, and the trifling of his favour, Hold it a fashion and a toy in blood; A violet in the youth of primy nature, Forward, not permanent, sweet, not lasting; The perfume and suppliance of a minute; No more.
As for Hamlet and his playful affection, Treat it as just a passing fancy, Like a flower in the prime of youth, Bold but not lasting, sweet but not permanent; The scent and pleasure of a moment; Nothing more.
No more but so?
Nothing more than that?
Think it no more. For nature crescent does not grow alone In thews and bulk; but as this temple waxes, The inward service of the mind and soul Grows wide withal. Perhaps he loves you now, And now no soil nor cautel doth besmirch The virtue of his will; but you must fear, His greatness weigh’d, his will is not his own; For he himself is subject to his birth: He may not, as unvalu’d persons do, Carve for himself; for on his choice depends The sanctity and health of this whole state; And therefore must his choice be circumscrib’d Unto the voice and yielding of that body Whereof he is the head. Then if he says he loves you, It fits your wisdom so far to believe it As he in his particular act and place May give his saying deed; which is no further Than the main voice of Denmark goes withal. Then weigh what loss your honour may sustain If with too credent ear you list his songs, Or lose your heart, or your chaste treasure open To his unmaster’d importunity. Fear it, Ophelia, fear it, my dear sister; And keep you in the rear of your affection, Out of the shot and danger of desire. The chariest maid is prodigal enough If she unmask her beauty to the moon. Virtue itself scopes not calumnious strokes: The canker galls the infants of the spring Too oft before their buttons be disclos’d, And in the morn and liquid dew of youth Contagious blastments are most imminent. Be wary then, best safety lies in fear. Youth to itself rebels, though none else near.
Think of it as nothing more. As a person grows, it’s not just their body that grows, But their mind and soul expand too. Maybe he loves you now, And maybe there’s no hidden trick behind it, But you must be careful, Because, given his position, his will isn’t entirely his own; He’s bound by his birth: He can’t choose freely like an ordinary person; His decisions affect the whole country, And so he must follow the advice of those around him. So if he says he loves you, You should believe it only as much as he can show it By his actions, which are no more than what Denmark allows. Think about the damage to your reputation If you listen too easily to his sweet words, Or if you lose your heart, or give your innocence away To his unchecked persistence. Be careful, Ophelia, be careful, my dear sister; Keep your emotions in check, And stay out of the danger of desire. Even the most careful maid can be reckless enough If she reveals her beauty to the world. Virtue itself can’t avoid malicious gossip: Young love can be easily spoiled Before it’s even fully formed, And in the early morning of youth, Temptations are the most dangerous. So be careful, the safest choice is to fear. Youth rebels against itself, even when no one else is around.
I shall th’effect of this good lesson keep As watchman to my heart. But good my brother, Do not as some ungracious pastors do, Show me the steep and thorny way to heaven; Whilst like a puff’d and reckless libertine Himself the primrose path of dalliance treads, And recks not his own rede.
I will remember this good advice As a guard to my heart. But, dear brother, Don’t be like some hypocritical priests, Showing me the tough path to heaven, While you yourself walk the easy, carefree path And ignore your own advice.
O, fear me not. I stay too long. But here my father comes.
Oh, don’t worry about me. I’m staying too long. But here comes my father.
.
.
A double blessing is a double grace; Occasion smiles upon a second leave.
A double blessing is a double good luck; Opportunity smiles on a second goodbye.
Yet here, Laertes? Aboard, aboard, for shame. The wind sits in the shoulder of your sail, And you are stay’d for. There, my blessing with you.
Still here, Laertes? Get going, for shame. The wind is in your sail, And the ship is waiting for you. There, my blessing goes with you.
And these few precepts in thy memory Look thou character. Give thy thoughts no tongue, Nor any unproportion’d thought his act. Be thou familiar, but by no means vulgar. Those friends thou hast, and their adoption tried, Grapple them unto thy soul with hoops of steel; But do not dull thy palm with entertainment Of each new-hatch’d, unfledg’d comrade. Beware Of entrance to a quarrel; but being in, Bear’t that th’opposed may beware of thee. Give every man thine ear, but few thy voice: Take each man’s censure, but reserve thy judgment. Costly thy habit as thy purse can buy, But not express’d in fancy; rich, not gaudy: For the apparel oft proclaims the man; And they in France of the best rank and station Are of a most select and generous chief in that. Neither a borrower nor a lender be: For loan oft loses both itself and friend; And borrowing dulls the edge of husbandry. This above all: to thine own self be true; And it must follow, as the night the day, Thou canst not then be false to any man. Farewell: my blessing season this in thee.
And remember these few rules, Keep them in mind. Don’t speak everything you think, And don’t let any thought become action too quickly. Be friendly, but not overly familiar. Hold on to the friends you’ve truly tested, And bind them to you with strong ties; But don’t waste your time on every new acquaintance. Avoid getting into arguments; but if you must, Be the one that others are wary of. Listen to everyone, but speak to only a few: Hear others’ opinions, but reserve your own judgment. Dress as well as your money allows, But don’t be flashy; rich, but not showy: Because clothes often tell you who someone is; And in France, the best people pay attention to this. Don’t borrow or lend money: Lending often loses both the money and the friend; And borrowing weakens your ability to manage your own life. Above all else: be true to yourself; And it will follow, like day follows night, That you can’t be false to anyone. Goodbye: my blessing go with you.
Most humbly do I take my leave, my lord.
I take my leave most humbly, my lord.
The time invites you; go, your servants tend.
The time is right, go, let your servants take care of things.
Farewell, Ophelia, and remember well What I have said to you.
Goodbye, Ophelia, and remember what I’ve told you.
’Tis in my memory lock’d, And you yourself shall keep the key of it.
It’s locked in my memory, And you’ll hold the key to it.
Farewell.
Goodbye.
What is’t, Ophelia, he hath said to you?
What did he say to you, Ophelia?
So please you, something touching the Lord Hamlet.
If you please, something about Lord Hamlet.
Marry, well bethought: ’Tis told me he hath very oft of late Given private time to you; and you yourself Have of your audience been most free and bounteous. If it be so,—as so’tis put on me, And that in way of caution,—I must tell you You do not understand yourself so clearly As it behoves my daughter and your honour. What is between you? Give me up the truth.
Well, that’s good to hear: I’ve been told he’s spent a lot of time with you recently, And you’ve been very free and generous with your time. If that’s true—since it’s what I’ve been told, And I’m saying this out of caution—I must tell you That you don’t understand the situation as clearly As you should for both your sake and your honor. What’s going on between you two? Tell me the truth.
He hath, my lord, of late made many tenders Of his affection to me.
He’s recently made many advances With his affection towards me.
Affection! Pooh! You speak like a green girl, Unsifted in such perilous circumstance. Do you believe his tenders, as you call them?
Advances! Nonsense! You sound like an inexperienced girl, Unaware of the dangers of such situations. Do you really believe his offers, as you call them?
I do not know, my lord, what I should think.
I’m not sure, my lord, what I should think.
Marry, I’ll teach you; think yourself a baby; That you have ta’en these tenders for true pay, Which are not sterling. Tender yourself more dearly; Or,—not to crack the wind of the poor phrase, Roaming it thus,—you’ll tender me a fool.
Well, I’ll teach you; think of yourself as a child; That you’ve taken these offers as genuine, Which they are not. Value yourself more highly; Or—if I may put it bluntly—you’ll make a fool of me.
My lord, he hath importun’d me with love In honourable fashion.
My lord, he’s persistently pursued me with love In an honorable way.
Ay, fashion you may call it; go to, go to.
Honorable? You may call it that; go on, go on.
And hath given countenance to his speech, my lord, With almost all the holy vows of heaven.
And he’s backed up his words, my lord, With almost all the sacred oaths in heaven.
Ay, springes to catch woodcocks. I do know, When the blood burns, how prodigal the soul Lends the tongue vows: these blazes, daughter, Giving more light than heat, extinct in both, Even in their promise, as it is a-making, You must not take for fire. From this time Be something scanter of your maiden presence; Set your entreatments at a higher rate Than a command to parley. For Lord Hamlet, Believe so much in him that he is young; And with a larger tether may he walk Than may be given you. In few, Ophelia, Do not believe his vows; for they are brokers, Not of that dye which their investments show, But mere implorators of unholy suits, Breathing like sanctified and pious bawds, The better to beguile. This is for all. I would not, in plain terms, from this time forth Have you so slander any moment leisure As to give words or talk with the Lord Hamlet. Look to’t, I charge you; come your ways.
Ah, traps to catch fools. I know, When passion runs high, how easily the soul Makes promises with the tongue: these fiery words, daughter, They give more light than warmth, and burn out quickly, Even before they’re fully made, You must not take them seriously. From now on, Be more careful with your presence; Value yourself more highly Than just offering to speak. As for Lord Hamlet, He’s young, so you may let him go farther Than would be allowed for you. In short, Ophelia, Don’t believe his promises; they’re just a cover For unworthy demands, Pretending to be sincere and pious, But really trying to deceive you. This is all I have to say. I don’t want you, from this point on, To waste any time at all Talking with Lord Hamlet. Be careful, I’m telling you; go now.
I shall obey, my lord.
I’ll do as you say, my lord.