Original
Modern English
lists. A pavilion by the side of it for the reception of King, Princess, Lords, & c.
arena. A tent by the side of it for the reception of the King, Princess, Lords, etc.
Are the knights ready to begin the triumph?
Are the knights ready to start the contest?
They are, my liege; And stay your coming to present themselves.
They are, my king; And they are waiting for your arrival to present themselves.
Return them, we are ready; and our daughter, In honour of whose birth these triumphs are, Sits here, like beauty’s child, whom nature gat For men to see, and seeing wonder at.
Send them in, we are ready; and our daughter, For whose birth these celebrations are held, Sits here, like the child of beauty, whom nature created For people to admire, and to marvel at.
It pleaseth you, my royal father, to express My commendations great, whose merit’s less.
It pleases you, my royal father, to praise me With such great compliments, though I deserve much less.
It’s fit it should be so; for princes are A model which heaven makes like to itself: As jewels lose their glory if neglected, So princes their renowns if not respected. ’Tis now your honour, daughter, to explain The labour of each knight in his device.
It’s right that it should be so; for princes are A model that heaven makes to resemble itself: Just as jewels lose their brilliance if ignored, So princes lose their fame if not respected. Now it’s your turn, daughter, to explain The meaning behind each knight’s symbol.
Which, to preserve mine honour, I’ll perform.
To preserve my honor, I’ll do so.
Who is the first that doth prefer himself?
Who is the first to present himself?
A knight of Sparta, my renowned father; And the device he bears upon his shield Is a black Ethiope reaching at the sun The word, ’Lux tua vita mihi.’
A knight from Sparta, my distinguished father; And the symbol he carries on his shield Is a black Ethiopian reaching for the sun The words, ’Lux tua vita mihi.’
He loves you well that holds his life of you.
He loves you greatly who considers his life yours.
Who is the second that presents himself?
Who’s the second person to step forward?
A prince of Macedon, my royal father; And the device he bears upon his shield Is an arm’d knight that’s conquer’d by a lady; The motto thus, in Spanish, ’Piu por dulzura que por fuerza.’
A prince from Macedon, my royal father; And the symbol he carries on his shield Is a knight in armor, defeated by a lady; The motto says, in Spanish, "More by sweetness than by force."
And what’s the third?
And what about the third?
The third of Antioch; And his device, a wreath of chivalry; The word, ’Me pompae provexit apex.’
The third is from Antioch; And his symbol is a wreath of knighthood; The motto says, "The crown of glory raised me."
What is the fourth?
And what’s the fourth?
A burning torch that’s turned upside down; The word, ’Quod me alit, me extinguit.’
A burning torch turned upside down; The motto says, "What feeds me, extinguishes me."
Which shows that beauty hath his power and will, Which can as well inflame as it can kill.
Which shows that beauty has its power and will, Which can both ignite passion and destroy it.
The fifth, an hand environed with clouds, Holding out gold that’s by the touchstone tried; The motto thus, ’Sic spectanda fides.’
The fifth, a hand surrounded by clouds, Holding out gold tested by the touchstone; The motto says, "This is how trust should be tested."
And what’s The sixth and last, the which the knight himself With such a graceful courtesy deliver’d?
And what’s The sixth and final one, who delivered it With such graceful courtesy?
He seems to be a stranger; but his present is A wither’d branch, that’s only green at top; The motto, ’In hac spe vivo.’
He seems to be a stranger; but his gift is A withered branch, only green at the top; The motto says, "In this hope, I live."
A pretty moral; From the dejected state wherein he is, He hopes by you his fortunes yet may flourish.
A nice little lesson; From the lowly state he’s in, He hopes that through you, his fortunes might yet bloom.
He had need mean better than his outward show Can any way speak in his just commend; For by his rusty outside he appears To have practised more the whipstock than the lance.
He’d better mean more than his appearance shows, For his shabby exterior suggests He’s practiced more with a whip than with a lance.
He well may be a stranger, for he comes To an honour’d triumph strangely furnished.
He might be a stranger, since he comes To an honoured celebration, looking so oddly dressed.
And on set purpose let his armour rust Until this day, to scour it in the dust.
And he must have purposely let his armour rust Until today, so it could be cleaned off in the dust.
Opinion’s but a fool, that makes us scan The outward habit by the inward man. But stay, the knights are coming: we will withdraw Into the gallery.
Judging by appearances is foolish, for it makes us assess A person’s inner worth based on their outer appearance. But wait, the knights are coming: let’s move aside Into the gallery.