Original
Modern English
Were not you even now with the Countess Olivia?
Weren’t you just with Countess Olivia?
Even now, sir; on a moderate pace I have since arrived but hither.
Yes, just now, sir; I arrived here only a little while ago.
She returns this ring to you, sir: you might have saved me my pains, to have taken it away yourself. She adds, moreover, that you should put your lord into a desperate assurance she will none of him: and one thing more, that you be never so hardy to come again in his affairs, unless it be to report your lord’s taking of this. Receive it so.
She sends this ring back to you, sir: you could have saved me the trouble by taking it back yourself. She also says that you should give your lord a clear message that she doesn’t want him: and one more thing: don’t be bold enough to interfere with his business again, unless it’s to report that your lord has taken this back. Take it as it is.
She took the ring of me: I’ll none of it.
She took the ring from me: I don’t want it.
Come, sir, you peevishly threw it to her; and her will is, it should be so returned: if it be worth stooping for, there it lies in your eye; if not, be it his that finds it.
Come on, sir, you angrily threw it at her; and her wish is that it should be returned like this: if it’s worth picking up, it’s right there for you to see; if not, then let whoever finds it keep it.
I left no ring with her: what means this lady? Fortune forbid my outside have not charm’d her! She made good view of me; indeed, so much, That sure methought her eyes had lost her tongue, For she did speak in starts distractedly. She loves me, sure; the cunning of her passion Invites me in this churlish messenger. None of my lord’s ring! why, he sent her none. I am the man: if it be so, as ’tis, Poor lady, she were better love a dream. Disguise, I see, thou art a wickedness, Wherein the pregnant enemy does much. How easy is it for the proper-false In women’s waxen hearts to set their forms! Alas, our frailty is the cause, not we! For such as we are made of, such we be. How will this fadge? my master loves her dearly; And I, poor monster, fond as much on him; And she, mistaken, seems to dote on me. What will become of this? As I am man, My state is desperate for my master’s love; As I am woman,--now alas the day!-- What thriftless sighs shall poor Olivia breathe! O time! thou must untangle this, not I; It is too hard a knot for me to untie!
I didn’t leave a ring with her: what’s going on with this lady? I hope my appearance didn’t charm her! She looked me over carefully; in fact, so much, that I almost thought her eyes had stolen her voice, because she spoke so strangely, all over the place. She loves me, I’m sure of it; the way her emotions work makes her send such a rude messenger. But none of my lord’s ring! Well, he didn’t send her one. I’m the man: if it’s really like this, poor lady, she’d be better off loving a dream. Disguise, I see, you’re a wicked thing, for you make the enemy (in this case, love) do a lot. How easy it is for a false appearance to form in women’s hearts like soft wax! Alas, it’s our weakness that causes this, not us! We are what we’re made of. How will this work out? My master loves her deeply; and I, poor fool, love him just as much; and she, confused, seems to be falling for me. What will happen now? As a man, my situation is hopeless because of my master’s love; As a woman,—oh, what a terrible situation!— how many pointless sighs will poor Olivia breathe! Oh time! you must untangle this, not me; It’s too difficult for me to figure out!