Original
Modern English
And have you nuns no farther privileges?
Do the nuns have any other privileges?
Are not these large enough?
Aren’t these privileges big enough?
Yes, truly; I speak not as desiring more; But rather wishing a more strict restraint Upon the sisterhood, the votarists of Saint Clare.
Yes, really; I’m not asking for more. But I do wish there were stricter rules For the sisterhood, the followers of Saint Clare.
[Within] Ho! Peace be in this place!
[From inside] Hey! Peace in here!
Who’s that which calls?
Who’s calling?
It is a man’s voice. Gentle Isabella, Turn you the key, and know his business of him; You may, I may not; you are yet unsworn. When you have vow’d, you must not speak with men But in the presence of the prioress: Then, if you speak, you must not show your face, Or, if you show your face, you must not speak. He calls again; I pray you, answer him.
It’s a man’s voice. Kindly, Isabella, Turn the key and find out what he wants; You can do it, I can’t; you’re not yet sworn. Once you’ve taken your vows, you can’t talk to men Except in front of the prioress. Then, if you speak, you mustn’t show your face, Or if you show your face, you mustn’t speak. He’s calling again; please answer him.
Peace and prosperity! Who is’t that calls
Peace and prosperity! Who is calling?
Hail, virgin, if you be, as those cheek-roses Proclaim you are no less! Can you so stead me As bring me to the sight of Isabella, A novice of this place and the fair sister To her unhappy brother Claudio?
Hello, virgin, if you really are, as your rosy cheeks Suggest, can you help me By taking me to see Isabella, A novice here and the beautiful sister Of her unlucky brother Claudio?
Why ’her unhappy brother’? let me ask, The rather for I now must make you know I am that Isabella and his sister.
Why "unlucky brother"? Let me ask, Especially since I should let you know That I am Isabella and his sister.
Gentle and fair, your brother kindly greets you: Not to be weary with you, he’s in prison.
Gentle and beautiful, your brother sends his warm greetings: To avoid tiring you with the details, he’s in prison.
Woe me! for what?
Oh no! For what reason?
For that which, if myself might be his judge, He should receive his punishment in thanks: He hath got his friend with child.
If I were the judge, I’d say he deserves a reward instead of punishment: He’s made his friend pregnant.
Sir, make me not your story.
Please, don’t make me the subject of your joke.
It is true. I would not--though ’tis my familiar sin With maids to seem the lapwing and to jest, Tongue far from heart--play with all virgins so: I hold you as a thing ensky’d and sainted. By your renouncement an immortal spirit, And to be talk’d with in sincerity, As with a saint.
It’s true. I wouldn’t—though it’s a familiar sin of mine To act foolish with young women and joke around, Pretending to care but not meaning it—play with virgins that way: I see you as something pure and holy. By your rejection, you’re like an immortal soul, And I speak to you with respect, Like I would to a saint.
You do blaspheme the good in mocking me.
You’re disrespecting what’s good by making fun of me.
Do not believe it. Fewness and truth, ’tis thus: Your brother and his lover have embraced: As those that feed grow full, as blossoming time That from the seedness the bare fallow brings To teeming foison, even so her plenteous womb Expresseth his full tilth and husbandry.
Don’t believe it. Here’s the truth: Your brother and his lover are together: Just like those who eat, they get full, like springtime That turns bare soil into a field full of crops, Her fertile womb shows the result of his efforts.
Some one with child by him? My cousin Juliet?
Someone’s pregnant by him? My cousin Juliet?
Is she your cousin?
Is she your cousin?
Adoptedly; as school-maids change their names By vain though apt affection.
Adopted; like how schoolgirls sometimes change their names Out of a silly but strong affection.
She it is.
That’s her.
O, let him marry her.
Oh, let him marry her.
This is the point. The duke is very strangely gone from hence; Bore many gentlemen, myself being one, In hand and hope of action: but we do learn By those that know the very nerves of state, His givings-out were of an infinite distance From his true-meant design. Upon his place, And with full line of his authority, Governs Lord Angelo; a man whose blood Is very snow-broth; one who never feels The wanton stings and motions of the sense, But doth rebate and blunt his natural edge With profits of the mind, study and fast. He--to give fear to use and liberty, Which have for long run by the hideous law, As mice by lions--hath pick’d out an act, Under whose heavy sense your brother’s life Falls into forfeit: he arrests him on it; And follows close the rigour of the statute, To make him an example. All hope is gone, Unless you have the grace by your fair prayer To soften Angelo: and that’s my pith of business ’Twixt you and your poor brother.
That’s the problem. The duke has left suddenly; He took many gentlemen with him, myself included, Expecting to take action: but we learned From those who really understand the workings of power, That what he claimed to be doing was far from his true intentions. In his absence, And with full authority, Lord Angelo is in charge; A man whose blood is cold and unfeeling; One who never feels The passions of the senses, But dulls his natural instincts With mental focus, study, and fasting. He—hoping to control fear and freedom, Which have long been suppressed by harsh laws, Like mice avoiding lions—has chosen a law, Under which your brother’s life is at risk: He’s been arrested for it; And he’s strictly following the harshness of the law, To make an example of him. All hope is lost, Unless you can use your prayer and beauty To soften Angelo’s heart: and that’s my main concern Between you and your poor brother.
Doth he so seek his life?
Is he really trying to kill him?
Has censured him Already; and, as I hear, the provost hath A warrant for his execution.
He’s already condemned him, And, as I hear, the provost already has A warrant for his execution.
Alas! what poor ability’s in me To do him good?
Oh no! What can I possibly do To help him?
Assay the power you have.
Try using whatever power you have.
My power? Alas, I doubt--
My power? Oh, I’m afraid—
Our doubts are traitors And make us lose the good we oft might win By fearing to attempt. Go to Lord Angelo, And let him learn to know, when maidens sue, Men give like gods; but when they weep and kneel, All their petitions are as freely theirs As they themselves would owe them.
Our doubts betray us And make us lose the good we could easily get By being too afraid to try. Go to Lord Angelo, And let him see that when young women ask, Men act like gods; but when they cry and beg, All their requests are as easily granted As if the men owed them something.
I’ll see what I can do.
I’ll see what I can do.
But speedily.
But do it quickly.
I will about it straight; No longer staying but to give the mother Notice of my affair. I humbly thank you: Commend me to my brother: soon at night I’ll send him certain word of my success.
I’ll go right away; I’m just stopping to let my mother know About my plans. Thank you so much: Give my regards to my brother: later tonight I’ll send him an update on how it went.
I take my leave of you.
I’ll take my leave.
Good sir, adieu.
Goodbye, sir.