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Modern English
Good morrow to the good Simonides.
Good morning to the good Simonides.
Knights, from my daughter this I let you know, That for this twelvemonth she’ll not undertake A married life. Her reason to herself is only known, Which yet from her by no means can I get.
Knights, I tell you from my daughter, That for this year, she won’t take on A married life. Her reason is known only to herself, And I can’t get it out of her.
May we not get access to her, my lord?
Can we not get to see her, my lord?
’Faith, by no means; she has so strictly tied Her to her chamber, that ’tis impossible. One twelve moons more she’ll wear Diana’s livery; This by the eye of Cynthia hath she vow’d And on her virgin honour will not break it.
No, not at all; she has locked herself away In her room so tightly, it’s impossible. In twelve months, she’ll still be wearing Diana’s clothes; She’s made this vow to the moon goddess, Cynthia, And she won’t break it, not even for her virginity’s honor.
Loath to bid farewell, we take our leaves.
Reluctantly, we take our leave.
So, They are well dispatch’d; now to my daughter’s letter: She tells me here, she’d wed the stranger knight, Or never more to view nor day nor light. ’Tis well, mistress; your choice agrees with mine; I like that well: nay, how absolute she’s in’t, Not minding whether I dislike or no! Well, I do commend her choice; And will no longer have it be delay’d. Soft! here he comes: I must dissemble it.
Well, They’re gone now; let me read my daughter’s letter: She says here that she’ll marry the stranger knight, Or she’ll never see the light of day again. That’s fine, my dear; your choice is the same as mine; I like this: wow, she’s really determined, Not caring whether I like it or not! Well, I approve of her choice; And I won’t let this be delayed any longer. Wait! here he comes: I must pretend I don’t care.
All fortune to the good Simonides!
All the best to you, good Simonides!
To you as much, sir! I am beholding to you For your sweet music this last night: I do Protest my ears were never better fed With such delightful pleasing harmony.
And the same to you, sir! I’m grateful to you For your wonderful music last night: I must Say my ears have never been so well treated With such delightful, pleasing sounds.
It is your grace’s pleasure to commend; Not my desert.
It is your grace’s kindness to praise me; I don’t deserve it.
Sir, you are music’s master.
Sir, you are the master of music.
The worst of all her scholars, my good lord.
I’m the worst student she’s ever had, my good lord.
Let me ask you one thing: What do you think of my daughter, sir?
Let me ask you one thing: What do you think of my daughter, sir?
A most virtuous princess.
She’s a very virtuous princess.
And she is fair too, is she not?
And she’s beautiful, isn’t she?
As a fair day in summer, wondrous fair.
As beautiful as a perfect summer day, truly stunning.
Sir, my daughter thinks very well of you; Ay, so well, that you must be her master, And she will be your scholar: therefore look to it.
Sir, my daughter thinks very highly of you; Yes, so highly, that you must be her teacher, And she’ll be your student: so be prepared.
I am unworthy for her schoolmaster.
I’m not good enough to be her teacher.
She thinks not so; peruse this writing else.
She doesn’t think so; read this letter instead.
[Aside] What’s here? A letter, that she loves the knight of Tyre! ’Tis the king’s subtlety to have my life. O, seek not to entrap me, gracious lord, A stranger and distressed gentleman, That never aim’d so high to love your daughter, But bent all offices to honour her.
[Aside] What’s this? A letter saying she loves the knight of Tyre! It’s the king’s trick to try to take my life. Oh, don’t try to trap me, kind lord, A stranger and a poor gentleman, Who never intended to love your daughter so highly, But only worked to honour her.
Thou hast bewitch’d my daughter, and thou art A villain.
You’ve bewitched my daughter, and you’re A villain.
By the gods, I have not: Never did thought of mine levy offence; Nor never did my actions yet commence A deed might gain her love or your displeasure.
By the gods, I haven’t: I never thought of doing anything wrong; Nor have my actions ever begun A deed that might make her love me or make you angry.
Traitor, thou liest.
Traitor, you’re lying.
Traitor!
Traitor!
Ay, traitor.
Yes, traitor.
Even in his throat--unless it be the king-- That calls me traitor, I return the lie.
Even if it’s only the king— That calls me a traitor, I’ll return the insult.
[Aside] Now, by the gods, I do applaud his courage.
[Aside] By the gods, I admire his courage.
My actions are as noble as my thoughts, That never relish’d of a base descent. I came unto your court for honour’s cause, And not to be a rebel to her state; And he that otherwise accounts of me, This sword shall prove he’s honour’s enemy.
My actions are as noble as my thoughts, And never showed signs of a lowly origin. I came to your court for honour’s sake, Not to rebel against your state; And anyone who thinks otherwise about me, This sword will prove he’s an enemy of honour.
No? Here comes my daughter, she can witness it.
No? Here comes my daughter, she can confirm it.
Then, as you are as virtuous as fair, Resolve your angry father, if my tongue Did ere solicit, or my hand subscribe To any syllable that made love to you.
Then, since you’re as virtuous as you are beautiful, Tell your angry father if my words Ever tried to win your love, or if my actions Ever signed off on anything that might have made love to you.
Why, sir, say if you had, Who takes offence at that would make me glad?
Why, sir, say if you had, Who would be offended by that, when it would only make me happy?
Yea, mistress, are you so peremptory?
Yes, my lady, are you so certain about this?
I am glad on’t with all my heart.-- I’ll tame you; I’ll bring you in subjection. Will you, not having my consent, Bestow your love and your affections Upon a stranger?
I’m happy about it, truly.-- I’ll control you; I’ll make you obey. Will you, without my permission, Give your love and your affection To someone you don’t know?
who, for aught I know, May be, nor can I think the contrary, As great in blood as I myself.-- Therefore hear you, mistress; either frame Your will to mine,--and you, sir, hear you, Either be ruled by me, or I will make you-- Man and wife: Nay, come, your hands and lips must seal it too: And being join’d, I’ll thus your hopes destroy; And for a further grief,--God give you joy!-- What, are you both pleased?
Who, for all I know, Could be, and I can’t imagine otherwise, Just as noble as I am.-- So listen, lady; either change Your will to match mine,--and you, sir, listen, Either be controlled by me, or I’ll force you-- To marry her: No, come on, you have to seal it with your hands and lips too: And once you’re married, I’ll destroy all your hopes; And for even more sadness,--God give you joy!-- So, are you both happy with this?
Yes, if you love me, sir.
Yes, if you love me, sir.
Even as my life, or blood that fosters it.
As much as my life, or the blood that sustains it.
What, are you both agreed?
What, are you both in agreement?
Yes, if it please your majesty.
Yes, if it pleases your majesty.
It pleaseth me so well, that I will see you wed; And then with what haste you can get you to bed.
It pleases me so much, I’ll make sure you get married; And then hurry off to your wedding bed.