Original
Modern English
Good day, sir.
Hello, sir.
I am glad you’re well.
I’m glad you’re doing well.
I have not seen you long: how goes the world?
I haven’t seen you in a while. How’s everything?
It wears, sir, as it grows.
It’s going on, sir, as usual.
Ay, that’s well known: But what particular rarity? what strange, Which manifold record not matches? See, Magic of bounty! all these spirits thy power Hath conjured to attend. I know the merchant.
Yes, that’s no surprise: But what’s the latest news? Anything unusual, Something not already written about? Look, The magic of generosity! All these people your influence Has called to attend. I recognize the merchant.
I know them both; th’ other’s a jeweller.
I know them both; the other one’s a jeweller.
O, ’tis a worthy lord.
Oh, he’s a great man.
Nay, that’s most fix’d.
No, that’s absolutely true.
A most incomparable man, breathed, as it were, To an untirable and continuate goodness: He passes. Jeweller: I have a jewel here--
He’s an extraordinary man, as if he’s been created To be endlessly good: He’s unmatched. Jeweller: I have a piece of jewellery here--
O, pray, let’s see’t: for the Lord Timon, sir? Jeweller: If he will touch the estimate: but, for that--
Oh, please, let me see it: is it for Lord Timon, sir? Jeweller: If he agrees to the price, but beyond that--
[Reciting to himself] ’When we for recompense have praised the vile, It stains the glory in that happy verse Which aptly sings the good.’
[Reciting to himself] ’When we praise the worthless in exchange for a reward, It ruins the honor in that happy poem Which rightly praises the good.’
’Tis a good form.
That’s a good idea.
And rich: here is a water, look ye.
And valuable: here’s a gem, take a look.
You are rapt, sir, in some work, some dedication To the great lord.
You’re lost in thought, sir, focused on some task, Some dedication to the great lord.
A thing slipp’d idly from me. Our poesy is as a gum, which oozes From whence ’tis nourish’d: the fire i’ the flint Shows not till it be struck; our gentle flame Provokes itself and like the current flies Each bound it chafes. What have you there?
Something slipped away from me. Our poetry is like sap, which oozes From where it’s nourished: the spark in the flint Doesn’t show until it’s struck; our gentle fire Grows on its own and like a river flows, Each boundary it touches, it pushes against. What’s this you have?
A picture, sir. When comes your book forth?
A painting, sir. When is your book coming out?
Upon the heels of my presentment, sir. Let’s see your piece.
Right after my current work, sir. Let’s see your painting.
’Tis a good piece.
It’s a good painting.
So ’tis: this comes off well and excellent.
It is: this looks great, really excellent.
Indifferent.
It’s okay.
Admirable: how this grace Speaks his own standing! what a mental power This eye shoots forth! how big imagination Moves in this lip! to the dumbness of the gesture One might interpret.
Wonderful: how this grace Shows its own worth! what a mental power This eye projects! how much imagination Moves in this lip! one could interpret The silent gestures here.
It is a pretty mocking of the life. Here is a touch; is’t good?
It’s a nice imitation of life. Here’s a detail; is it good?
I will say of it, It tutors nature: artificial strife Lives in these touches, livelier than life.
I’ll say this about it, It teaches nature: the fake struggle Lives in these details, more lively than life itself.
How this lord is follow’d!
Look at how this lord is followed!
The senators of Athens: happy man!
The senators of Athens: happy man!
Look, more!
Look, more!
You see this confluence, this great flood of visitors. I have, in this rough work, shaped out a man, Whom this beneath world doth embrace and hug With amplest entertainment: my free drift Halts not particularly, but moves itself In a wide sea of wax: no levell’d malice Infects one comma in the course I hold; But flies an eagle flight, bold and forth on, Leaving no tract behind.
You see this meeting, this huge crowd of visitors. I have, in this rough work, created a man, Whom the world below embraces and celebrates With the best hospitality: my free flow Doesn’t stop for details, but moves forward In a vast sea of possibility: no hidden hatred Spoils even a tiny part of my path; But soars like an eagle, bold and moving forward, Leaving no trace behind.
How shall I understand you?
How should I understand you?
I will unbolt to you. You see how all conditions, how all minds, As well of glib and slippery creatures as Of grave and austere quality, tender down Their services to Lord Timon: his large fortune Upon his good and gracious nature hanging Subdues and properties to his love and tendance All sorts of hearts; yea, from the glass-faced flatterer To Apemantus, that few things loves better Than to abhor himself: even he drops down The knee before him, and returns in peace Most rich in Timon’s nod.
Let me explain it to you. You see how all kinds of people, all kinds of minds, Whether smooth and slippery, or Serious and strict, eagerly offer Their services to Lord Timon: his great fortune Rests on his kind and generous nature, And this wins over all sorts of hearts; even The sycophant with his fake smile, And Apemantus, who dislikes almost everything Except despising himself: even he bows down And returns in peace, Rich from Timon’s favor.
I saw them speak together.
I saw them talk together.
Sir, I have upon a high and pleasant hill Feign’d Fortune to be throned: the base o’ the mount Is rank’d with all deserts, all kind of natures, That labour on the bosom of this sphere To propagate their states: amongst them all, Whose eyes are on this sovereign lady fix’d, One do I personate of Lord Timon’s frame, Whom Fortune with her ivory hand wafts to her; Whose present grace to present slaves and servants Translates his rivals.
Sir, I have imagined Fortune sitting on a high and pleasant hill: The bottom of the hill is full of people, all kinds of natures, Who work to improve their status on this earth. Among them all, whose eyes are fixed on this queenly figure, One person I represent, a man like Lord Timon, Whom Fortune, with her ivory hand, calls to her; Whose current favor raises slaves and servants To his level.
’Tis conceived to scope. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, methinks, With one man beckon’d from the rest below, Bowing his head against the sleepy mount To climb his happiness, would be well express’d In our condition.
It seems clear now. This throne, this Fortune, and this hill, I think, Are well represented with one man called from the rest below, Bowing his head against the steep hill To reach his happiness; it’s a good way to express Our situation.
Nay, sir, but hear me on. All those which were his fellows but of late, Some better than his value, on the moment Follow his strides, his lobbies fill with tendance, Rain sacrificial whisperings in his ear, Make sacred even his stirrup, and through him Drink the free air.
No, sir, but listen. All those who were his equals just a moment ago, Some even better than he, now follow him, His halls are filled with attendants, They whisper reverently in his ear, Make even his stirrup seem sacred, and through him Breathe the fresh air.
Ay, marry, what of these?
Yes, indeed, what of these?
When Fortune in her shift and change of mood Spurns down her late beloved, all his dependants Which labour’d after him to the mountain’s top Even on their knees and hands, let him slip down, Not one accompanying his declining foot.
When Fortune, in her changeable moods, Turns away from her once-beloved, all those who followed him To the top of the hill Fall down, crawling on their knees and hands, while he slips down, With no one following his descending steps.
’Tis common: A thousand moral paintings I can show That shall demonstrate these quick blows of Fortune’s More pregnantly than words. Yet you do well To show Lord Timon that mean eyes have seen The foot above the head.
It’s common: I could show you a thousand moral lessons That demonstrate these sudden shifts of Fortune More effectively than words. Still, you do well To show Lord Timon that even the lowliest eyes have seen The one above, now brought low.
Imprison’d is he, say you?
Is he imprisoned, you say?
Ay, my good lord: five talents is his debt, His means most short, his creditors most strait: Your honourable letter he desires To those have shut him up; which failing, Periods his comfort.
Yes, my lord: he owes five talents, His finances are stretched thin, his creditors are strict: He asks your honorable letter be sent to those who have him locked up; if that fails, It will end his hope.
Noble Ventidius! Well; I am not of that feather to shake off My friend when he must need me. I do know him A gentleman that well deserves a help: Which he shall have: I’ll pay the debt, and free him.
Noble Ventidius! Well; I’m not the type to abandon A friend when he needs me. I know him To be a gentleman who truly deserves help: And I will help him: I’ll pay the debt, and free him.
Your lordship ever binds him.
Your lordship always makes him feel obligated.
Commend me to him: I will send his ransom; And being enfranchised, bid him come to me. ’Tis not enough to help the feeble up, But to support him after. Fare you well.
Tell him I send my regards: I’ll pay his ransom; And once he’s free, tell him to come to me. It’s not enough to help the weak rise, But to continue supporting them afterward. Goodbye.
All happiness to your honour!
Wishing you all the best, my lord!
Lord Timon, hear me speak.
Lord Timon, please listen to me.
Freely, good father.
Speak freely, good sir.
Thou hast a servant named Lucilius.
You have a servant named Lucilius.
I have so: what of him?
Yes, I do. What about him?
Most noble Timon, call the man before thee.
Most noble Timon, call him here before you.
Attends he here, or no? Lucilius!
Is he here, or not? Lucilius!
Here, at your lordship’s service.
I’m here, at your service, my lord.
This fellow here, Lord Timon, this thy creature, By night frequents my house. I am a man That from my first have been inclined to thrift; And my estate deserves an heir more raised Than one which holds a trencher.
This man, Lord Timon, your servant, visits my house at night. I’m a man Who has always been careful with money; And my estate deserves an heir of higher status Than one who just carries a plate.
Well; what further?
I see. What else?
One only daughter have I, no kin else, On whom I may confer what I have got: The maid is fair, o’ the youngest for a bride, And I have bred her at my dearest cost In qualities of the best. This man of thine Attempts her love: I prithee, noble lord, Join with me to forbid him her resort; Myself have spoke in vain.
I have one daughter, no other relatives, To whom I can leave my wealth. The girl is young and beautiful, perfect for a bride, And I’ve raised her at great cost To be of the highest character. This man of yours Seeks to win her love: I beg you, noble lord, Help me stop him from seeing her; I’ve already spoken to him, but in vain.
The man is honest.
The man is honorable.
Therefore he will be, Timon: His honesty rewards him in itself; It must not bear my daughter.
So, Timon, he will be: His honesty is its own reward; It shouldn’t involve my daughter.
Does she love him?
Does she love him?
She is young and apt: Our own precedent passions do instruct us What levity’s in youth.
She’s young and eager: Our past feelings teach us How impulsive youth can be.
[To LUCILIUS] Love you the maid?
[To LUCILIUS] Do you love the girl?
Ay, my good lord, and she accepts of it.
Yes, my lord, and she accepts it.
If in her marriage my consent be missing, I call the gods to witness, I will choose Mine heir from forth the beggars of the world, And dispossess her all.
If I’m not asked for my approval in her marriage, I swear to the gods, I’ll choose My heir from the beggars of the world, And take everything from her.
How shall she be endow’d, if she be mated with an equal husband?
How will she be provided for, if she marries someone of equal status?
Three talents on the present; in future, all.
Three talents now; everything in the future.
This gentleman of mine hath served me long: To build his fortune I will strain a little, For ’tis a bond in men. Give him thy daughter: What you bestow, in him I’ll counterpoise, And make him weigh with her.
This man has served me well: To help him build his fortune, I’ll make a small effort, For it’s a duty men owe to each other. Give him your daughter: Whatever you give him, I’ll match, And make it equal to her.
Most noble lord, Pawn me to this your honour, she is his.
Most noble lord, I trust you with my honor, she’s his.
My hand to thee; mine honour on my promise.
My word to you; my honor on my promise.
Humbly I thank your lordship: never may The state or fortune fall into my keeping, Which is not owed to you!
Humbly, I thank you, my lord: may The state or fortune never fall into my hands, Unless it’s owed to you!
Vouchsafe my labour, and long live your lordship!
Please accept my work, and long live your lordship!
I thank you; you shall hear from me anon: Go not away. What have you there, my friend?
Thank you; you’ll hear from me soon: Don’t leave yet. What do you have there, my friend?
A piece of painting, which I do beseech Your lordship to accept.
A painting, which I ask Your lordship to accept.
Painting is welcome. The painting is almost the natural man; or since dishonour traffics with man’s nature, He is but outside: these pencill’d figures are Even such as they give out. I like your work; And you shall find I like it: wait attendance Till you hear further from me.
Painting is appreciated. The painting is almost like a real person; or since dishonesty is a part of human nature, He is only skin-deep: these painted images are Exactly what they appear to be. I like your work; And you’ll see that I like it: wait here Until you hear more from me.
The gods preserve ye!
The gods protect you!
Well fare you, gentleman: give me your hand; We must needs dine together. Sir, your jewel Hath suffer’d under praise.
Farewell, my friend: give me your hand; We must definitely dine together. Sir, your jewel Has suffered from too much praise.
What, my lord! dispraise?
What, my lord! criticism?
A more satiety of commendations. If I should pay you for’t as ’tis extoll’d, It would unclew me quite.
Too much praise, until it’s boring. If I were to pay you for it as much as people praise it, It would totally bankrupt me.
My lord, ’tis rated As those which sell would give: but you well know, Things of like value differing in the owners Are prized by their masters: believe’t, dear lord, You mend the jewel by the wearing it.
My lord, it’s priced The same way things are priced by those who sell them: but you know, Things of equal value are priced differently depending on who owns them. Believe me, my lord, You improve the jewel just by wearing it.
Well mock’d.
Well said.
No, my good lord; he speaks the common tongue, Which all men speak with him.
No, my good lord; he speaks plainly, Like everyone else does with him.
Look, who comes here: will you be chid?
Look, here comes someone: do you want to be scolded?
Jeweller: We’ll bear, with your lordship.
Jeweller: We’ll bear with you, my lord.
He’ll spare none.
He won’t spare anyone.
Good morrow to thee, gentle Apemantus!
Good morning, kind Apemantus!
Till I be gentle, stay thou for thy good morrow; When thou art Timon’s dog, and these knaves honest.
I’ll only be kind when you’re gone; wait for your good morning, When you’re Timon’s dog, and these fools are honest.
Why dost thou call them knaves? thou know’st them not.
Why do you call them fools? You don’t even know them.
Are they not Athenians?
Aren’t they Athenians?
Yes.
Yes.
Then I repent not. Jeweller: You know me, Apemantus?
Then I don’t regret it. Jeweller: Do you recognize me, Apemantus?
Thou know’st I do: I call’d thee by thy name.
You know I do: I called you by your name.
Thou art proud, Apemantus.
You’re arrogant, Apemantus.
Of nothing so much as that I am not like Timon.
I’m only proud of one thing: that I’m not like Timon.
Whither art going?
Where are you going?
To knock out an honest Athenian’s brains.
To smash an honest Athenian’s skull.
That’s a deed thou’lt die for.
That’s something you’ll die for.
Right, if doing nothing be death by the law.
Right, if doing nothing is punishable by death.
How likest thou this picture, Apemantus?
What do you think of this painting, Apemantus?
The best, for the innocence.
It’s the best, because of its innocence.
Wrought he not well that painted it?
Didn’t the artist do a good job?
He wrought better that made the painter; and yet he’s but a filthy piece of work.
He did better who made the artist; but still, he’s just a disgusting piece of work.
You’re a dog.
You’re a dog.
Thy mother’s of my generation: what’s she, if I be a dog?
Your mother’s from my time: what does that make her, if I’m a dog?
Wilt dine with me, Apemantus?
Will you dine with me, Apemantus?
No; I eat not lords.
No; I don’t eat rich people.
An thou shouldst, thou ’ldst anger ladies.
If you did, you’d make women angry.
O, they eat lords; so they come by great bellies.
Oh, they eat rich people; that’s how they get fat.
That’s a lascivious apprehension.
That’s a dirty way of looking at it.
So thou apprehendest it: take it for thy labour.
That’s how you see it: take it however you want.
How dost thou like this jewel, Apemantus?
What do you think of this jewel, Apemantus?
Not so well as plain-dealing, which will not cost a man a doit.
Not as much as honesty, which doesn’t cost a man anything.
What dost thou think ’tis worth?
What do you think it’s worth?
Not worth my thinking. How now, poet!
It’s not worth my time to think about it. What’s up, poet?
How now, philosopher!
What’s up, philosopher?
Thou liest.
You’re lying.
Art not one?
Aren’t you one?
Yes.
Yes.
Then I lie not.
Then I’m not lying.
Art not a poet?
Aren’t you a poet?
Yes.
Yes.
Then thou liest: look in thy last work, where thou hast feigned him a worthy fellow.
Then you’re lying: look at your last work, where you made him out to be a good man.
That’s not feigned; he is so.
That’s not made up; he really is.
Yes, he is worthy of thee, and to pay thee for thy labour: he that loves to be flattered is worthy o’ the flatterer. Heavens, that I were a lord!
Yes, he’s good enough for you, and to pay you for your work: the person who likes being praised deserves the praise. I wish I were a lord!
What wouldst do then, Apemantus?
What would you do then, Apemantus?
E’en as Apemantus does now; hate a lord with my heart.
Just like I do now; hate a lord with all my heart.
What, thyself?
What, hate yourself?
Ay.
Yes.
Wherefore?
Why?
That I had no angry wit to be a lord. Art not thou a merchant?
Because I don’t have enough anger to be a lord. Aren’t you a merchant?
Ay, Apemantus.
Yes, Apemantus.
Traffic confound thee, if the gods will not!
May traffic ruin you, if the gods won’t!
If traffic do it, the gods do it.
If trade ruins me, it’s because the gods let it.
Traffic’s thy god; and thy god confound thee!
Trade is your god; and may your god ruin you!
What trumpet’s that?
What’s that trumpet for?
’Tis Alcibiades, and some twenty horse, All of companionship.
It’s Alcibiades, with about twenty horse, All riding together.
Pray, entertain them; give them guide to us.
Please, entertain them; show them the way to us.
You must needs dine with me: go not you hence Till I have thank’d you: when dinner’s done, Show me this piece. I am joyful of your sights.
You have to eat with me: don’t leave yet Until I’ve thanked you: after dinner, Show me this piece. I’m happy to see you.
Most welcome, sir!
You’re most welcome, sir!
So, so, there! Aches contract and starve your supple joints! That there should be small love ’mongst these sweet knaves, And all this courtesy! The strain of man’s bred out Into baboon and monkey.
Oh, so, so, that’s it! Let your aches tighten and starve your flexible limbs! That there should be little love between these sweet fools, And all this politeness! Human nature has become Like baboons and monkeys.
Sir, you have saved my longing, and I feed Most hungerly on your sight.
Sir, you’ve satisfied my longing, and I feast Most eagerly on seeing you.
Right welcome, sir! Ere we depart, we’ll share a bounteous time In different pleasures. Pray you, let us in.
You’re very welcome, sir! Before we leave, we’ll enjoy a generous time In different pleasures. Please, let’s go inside.
What time o’ day is’t, Apemantus?
What time of day is it, Apemantus?
Time to be honest.
Time to be honest.
That time serves still.
That time is always right.
The more accursed thou, that still omitt’st it.
The more cursed you are, for never doing it.
Thou art going to Lord Timon’s feast?
Are you going to Lord Timon’s feast?
Ay, to see meat fill knaves and wine heat fools.
Yes, to watch food fill the fools and wine make the idiots drunk.
Fare thee well, fare thee well.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Thou art a fool to bid me farewell twice.
You’re a fool to say goodbye to me twice.
Why, Apemantus?
Why, Apemantus?
Shouldst have kept one to thyself, for I mean to give thee none.
You should have kept one for yourself, because I don’t plan to give you any.
Hang thyself!
Go hang yourself!
No, I will do nothing at thy bidding: make thy requests to thy friend.
No, I won’t do anything you tell me: ask your friend for help.
Away, unpeaceable dog, or I’ll spurn thee hence!
Go away, you troublesome dog, or I’ll kick you out of here!
I will fly, like a dog, the heels o’ the ass.
I’ll run off, like a dog chasing the donkey’s heels.
He’s opposite to humanity. Come, shall we in, And taste Lord Timon’s bounty? he outgoes The very heart of kindness.
He’s the complete opposite of human decency. Come on, should we go in, And enjoy Lord Timon’s generosity? He surpasses even the very heart of kindness.
He pours it out; Plutus, the god of gold, Is but his steward: no meed, but he repays Sevenfold above itself; no gift to him, But breeds the giver a return exceeding All use of quittance.
He gives it freely; Plutus, the god of wealth, Is just his servant: there’s no reward he gives, But returns it seven times over; no gift to him, But brings the giver a reward that exceeds all normal repayment.
The noblest mind he carries That ever govern’d man.
He has the noblest mind That ever governed a man.
Long may he live in fortunes! Shall we in?
May he live long in wealth! Should we go in?
I’ll keep you company.
I’ll go with you.