Original
Modern English
I have sent after him: he says he’ll come; How shall I feast him? what bestow of him? For youth is bought more oft than begg’d or borrow’d. I speak too loud. Where is Malvolio? he is sad and civil, And suits well for a servant with my fortunes: Where is Malvolio?
I’ve sent for him: he says he’ll come; How should I entertain him? What should I give him? Because young men are often bought rather than asked for or borrowed. I’m speaking too loudly. Where’s Malvolio? He’s sad and polite, And seems like a good servant for my wealth: Where’s Malvolio?
He’s coming, madam; but in very strange manner. He is, sure, possessed, madam.
He’s coming, madam; but in a very strange way. He is definitely acting crazy, madam.
Why, what’s the matter? does he rave?
What’s going on? Is he out of his mind?
No. madam, he does nothing but smile: your ladyship were best to have some guard about you, if he come; for, sure, the man is tainted in’s wits.
No, madam, he’s not doing anything except smiling. Your ladyship might want to have some guards nearby, if he comes; because, for sure, the man’s lost his mind.
Go call him hither.
Go call him here.
I am as mad as he, If sad and merry madness equal be.
I’m just as mad as he is, If sadness and silly happiness are both forms of madness.
How now, Malvolio!
How now, Malvolio!
Sweet lady, ho, ho.
Sweet lady, ho, ho.
Smilest thou? I sent for thee upon a sad occasion.
Are you smiling? I sent for you for a serious reason.
Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some obstruction in the blood, this cross-gartering; but what of that? if it please the eye of one, it is with me as the very true sonnet is, ’Please one, and please all.’
Sad, lady! I could be sad: this does make some blockage in my blood, this cross-gartering; but what about it? If it pleases one person’s eye, it’s like the true meaning of a sonnet, “Please one, and please everyone.”
Why, how dost thou, man? what is the matter with thee?
Why, how are you, man? What’s wrong with you?
Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It did come to his hands, and commands shall be executed: I think we do know the sweet Roman hand.
Not black in my mind, though yellow in my legs. It did come into his hands, and orders must be followed: I think we all know the sweet Roman script.
Wilt thou go to bed, Malvolio?
Are you going to bed, Malvolio?
To bed! ay, sweet-heart, and I’ll come to thee.
To bed! Yes, sweetheart, and I’ll come to you.
God comfort thee! Why dost thou smile so and kiss thy hand so oft?
God comfort you! Why are you smiling so and kissing your hand so often?
How do you, Malvolio?
How are you, Malvolio?
At your request! yes; nightingales answer daws.
At your request! Yes; nightingales answer crows.
Why appear you with this ridiculous boldness before my lady?
Why are you acting so ridiculously bold in front of my lady?
’Be not afraid of greatness:’ ’twas well writ.
"Don’t be afraid of greatness": It was well written.
What meanest thou by that, Malvolio?
What do you mean by that, Malvolio?
’Some are born great,’--
"Some are born great,"--
Ha!
Ha!
’Some achieve greatness,’--
"Some achieve greatness,"--
What sayest thou?
What are you saying?
’And some have greatness thrust upon them.’
"And some have greatness thrust upon them."
Heaven restore thee!
May heaven bring you back to life!
’Remember who commended thy yellow stocking s,’--
"Remember who told you to wear those yellow stockings,"--
Thy yellow stockings!
Your yellow stockings!
’And wished to see thee cross-gartered.’
"And wanted to see you wearing them with crossed garters."
Cross-gartered!
Crossed garters!
’Go to thou art made, if thou desirest to be so;’--
"Go on, you’re free to do as you wish if that’s what you want;"--
Am I made?
Am I free?
’If not, let me see thee a servant still.’
"If not, you can stay a servant, as you were before."
Why, this is very midsummer madness.
This is pure madness, just like midsummer madness.
Madam, the young gentleman of the Count Orsino’s is returned: I could hardly entreat him back: he attends your ladyship’s pleasure.
Madam, the young gentleman from Count Orsino has returned. I could hardly convince him to come back. He is waiting for your ladyship’s orders.
I’ll come to him.
I’ll go to him.
Good Maria, let this fellow be looked to. Where’s my cousin Toby? Let some of my people have a special care of him: I would not have him miscarry for the half of my dowry.
Good Maria, make sure this man is looked after. Where’s my cousin Toby? Tell some of my people to keep a close eye on him—I don’t want him to ruin things, even if it means losing half my dowry.
O, ho! do you come near me now? no worse man than Sir Toby to look to me! This concurs directly with the letter: she sends him on purpose, that I may appear stubborn to him; for she incites me to that in the letter. ’Cast thy humble slough,’ says she; ’be opposite with a kinsman, surly with servants; let thy tongue tang with arguments of state; put thyself into the trick of singularity;’ and consequently sets down the manner how; as, a sad face, a reverend carriage, a slow tongue, in the habit of some sir of note, and so forth. I have limed her; but it is Jove’s doing, and Jove make me thankful! And when she went away now, ’Let this fellow be looked to:’ fellow! not Malvolio, nor after my degree, but fellow. Why, every thing adheres together, that no dram of a scruple, no scruple of a scruple, no obstacle, no incredulous or unsafe circumstance--What can be said? Nothing that can be can come between me and the full prospect of my hopes. Well, Jove, not I, is the doer of this, and he is to be thanked.
Oh, so now you come near me? There’s no worse person than Sir Toby to keep an eye on me! This matches exactly with the letter: she sends him on purpose so I’ll seem stubborn to him; for she encourages me to do that in the letter. "Cast off your humble ways," she says; "be rude to a relative, grumpy with servants; let your speech be full of political arguments; make yourself stand out as someone unusual;" and then she goes on to explain how: a serious face, a dignified posture, speaking slowly, dressed like some important person, and so on. I’ve trapped her; but this is all Jove’s doing, and I thank Jove for it! And when she left just now, she said, "Let this man be looked after:" man! Not Malvolio, not someone of my rank, but man. Why, everything fits together, so perfectly that there’s not even a hint of doubt, not even the smallest obstacle—what can be said? Nothing at all can stop me from reaching the full height of my hopes. Well, Jove, not me, is the one making this happen, and Jove deserves the thanks.
Which way is he, in the name of sanctity? If all the devils of hell be drawn in little, and Legion himself possessed him, yet I’ll speak to him.
Which way is he, in the name of heaven? If all the devils of hell were summoned and Legion himself took over him, I’ll still talk to him.
Here he is, here he is. How is’t with you, sir? how is’t with you, man?
Here he is, here he is. How’s it going, sir? How’s it going, man?
Go off; I discard you: let me enjoy my private: go off.
Get away; I reject you: let me be alone: go away.
Lo, how hollow the fiend speaks within him! did not I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady prays you to have a care of him.
Look, how empty the devil speaks through him! Didn’t I tell you? Sir Toby, my lady asks you to be careful with him.
Ah, ha! does she so?
Oh, really? Does she say that?
Go to, go to; peace, peace; we must deal gently with him: let me alone. How do you, Malvolio? how is’t with you? What, man! defy the devil: consider, he’s an enemy to mankind.
Come on, come on; quiet, quiet; we need to be gentle with him: leave me alone. How are you, Malvolio? How’s it going? What, man! Resist the devil: remember, he’s an enemy to all humans.
Do you know what you say?
Do you even know what you’re saying?
La you, an you speak ill of the devil, how he takes it at heart! Pray God, he be not bewitched!
Look at him, when you talk badly about the devil, how he takes it personally! God, I hope he’s not cursed!
Carry his water to the wise woman.
Take him to the wise woman.
Marry, and it shall be done to-morrow morning, if I live. My lady would not lose him for more than I’ll say.
Sure, and it’ll be done tomorrow morning, if I’m still alive. My lady wouldn’t let him go for anything I’d say.
How now, mistress!
What’s this, madam?
O Lord!
Oh Lord!
Prithee, hold thy peace; this is not the way: do you not see you move him? let me alone with him.
Please, be quiet; this isn’t helping: don’t you see you’re upsetting him? Leave me alone with him.
No way but gentleness; gently, gently: the fiend is rough, and will not be roughly used.
Only gentleness will work; softly, softly: the devil is rough, and won’t take being treated roughly.
Why, how now, my bawcock! how dost thou, chuck?
Well, well, my dear boy! How are you, love?
Sir!
Sir!
Ay, Biddy, come with me. What, man! ’tis not for gravity to play at cherry-pit with Satan: hang him, foul collier!
Yeah, Biddy, come with me. What’s wrong with you! It’s not serious enough to play a game like cherry-pit with the devil: hang him, dirty coal man!
Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, get him to pray.
Get him to say his prayers, good Sir Toby, make him pray.
My prayers, minx!
My prayers, you brat!
No, I warrant you, he will not hear of godliness.
No, I bet you, he won’t want anything to do with godliness.
Go, hang yourselves all! you are idle shallow things: I am not of your element: you shall know more hereafter.
Go, hang yourselves! You’re lazy, shallow people: I don’t belong with you: you’ll find out more later.
Is’t possible?
Is it possible?
If this were played upon a stage now, I could condemn it as an improbable fiction.
If this were happening on a stage, I’d say it was too far-fetched to be believable.
His very genius hath taken the infection of the device, man.
He’s caught the madness of the plan, man.
Nay, pursue him now, lest the device take air and taint.
No, chase him now, before the plan gets out and ruins things.
Why, we shall make him mad indeed.
Well, we’ll actually make him go mad.
The house will be the quieter.
The house will be quieter then.
Come, we’ll have him in a dark room and bound. My niece is already in the belief that he’s mad: we may carry it thus, for our pleasure and his penance, till our very pastime, tired out of breath, prompt us to have mercy on him: at which time we will bring the device to the bar and crown thee for a finder of madmen. But see, but see.
Come on, let’s lock him in a dark room and tie him up. My niece already thinks he’s mad; we can keep this up, for our fun and his punishment, until we’re tired of the game, at which point we’ll feel sorry for him. Then we’ll bring the plan to light and reward you as the one who discovered madmen. But wait, wait.
More matter for a May morning.
More drama for a May morning.
Here’s the challenge, read it: warrant there’s vinegar and pepper in’t.
Here’s the challenge, read it: I bet there’s vinegar and pepper in it.
Is’t so saucy?
Is it that sharp?
Ay, is’t, I warrant him: do but read.
Yes, it is, I bet you: just read it.
Give me.
Give it to me.
’Youth, whatsoever thou art, thou art but a scurvy fellow.’
’Young man, whatever you are, you’re just a dirty scoundrel.’
Good, and valiant.
Good, and brave.
[Reads] ’Wonder not, nor admire not in thy mind, why I do call thee so, for I will show thee no reason for’t.’
[Reads] ’Don’t wonder or be surprised in your mind, why I call you this way, because I won’t give you any reason for it.’
A good note; that keeps you from the blow of the law.
A good point; that keeps you safe from legal trouble.
[Reads] ’Thou comest to the lady Olivia, and in my sight she uses thee kindly: but thou liest in thy throat; that is not the matter I challenge thee for.’
[Reads] ’You come to Lady Olivia, and in my sight, she treats you kindly: but you’re lying through your teeth; that’s not the reason I’m challenging you.’
Very brief, and to exceeding good sense--less.
Very brief, and with great logic—almost too little.
[Reads] ’I will waylay thee going home; where if it be thy chance to kill me,’--
[Reads] ’I’ll ambush you on your way home; and if it happens that you kill me,’--
Good.
Good.
[Reads] ’Thou killest me like a rogue and a villain.’
[Reads] ’You’ll kill me like a scoundrel and a villain.’
Still you keep o’ the windy side of the law: good.
Still, you’re staying on the safe side of the law: good.
[Reads] ’Fare thee well; and God have mercy upon one of our souls! He may have mercy upon mine; but my hope is better, and so look to thyself. Thy friend, as thou usest him, and thy sworn enemy, ANDREW AGUECHEEK. If this letter move him not, his legs cannot: I’ll give’t him.
[Reads] ’Goodbye; and God have mercy on one of our souls! He might have mercy on mine; but my hope is stronger, so take care of yourself. Your friend, as you treat him, and your sworn enemy, ANDREW AGUECHEEK. If this letter doesn’t affect him, his legs won’t either: I’ll give it to him.
You may have very fit occasion for’t: he is now in some commerce with my lady, and will by and by depart.
You might have a good reason to do it: he’s talking with my lady now and will leave soon.
Go, Sir Andrew: scout me for him at the corner the orchard like a bum-baily: so soon as ever thou seest him, draw; and, as thou drawest swear horrible; for it comes to pass oft that a terrible oath, with a swaggering accent sharply twanged off, gives manhood more approbation than ever proof itself would have earned him. Away!
Go, Sir Andrew: wait for him at the orchard corner like a policeman: as soon as you see him, draw your sword; and, as you do, swear loudly and terribly; because often, a big, bold oath shouted out with confidence makes a man seem more manly than any proof of his skills could. Go!
Nay, let me alone for swearing.
Don’t worry, I know how to swear.
Now will not I deliver his letter: for the behavior of the young gentleman gives him out to be of good capacity and breeding; his employment between his lord and my niece confirms no less: therefore this letter, being so excellently ignorant, will breed no terror in the youth: he will find it comes from a clodpole. But, sir, I will deliver his challenge by word of mouth; set upon Aguecheek a notable report of valour; and drive the gentleman, as I know his youth will aptly receive it, into a most hideous opinion of his rage, skill, fury and impetuosity. This will so fright them both that they will kill one another by the look, like cockatrices.
I won’t give him his letter: the way the young man behaves makes him seem clever and well-bred; his work for his lord and my niece proves it. So, this letter, being so completely clueless, won’t scare him: he’ll realize it’s from an idiot. But, I’ll deliver his challenge in person; I’ll spread a great story about Aguecheek’s bravery, and I’ll convince the young man, as I know he’ll believe it, that Aguecheek is furious, skilled, and dangerous. This will scare them both so much that they’ll fight each other just by looking at each other, like mythical creatures.
Here he comes with your niece: give them way till he take leave, and presently after him.
Here they come with your niece: let them pass until he says goodbye, and then follow him right after.
I will meditate the while upon some horrid message for a challenge.
I’ll think of a terrible message for a challenge in the meantime.
I have said too much unto a heart of stone And laid mine honour too unchary out: There’s something in me that reproves my fault; But such a headstrong potent fault it is, That it but mocks reproof.
I’ve said too much to a heart that’s like stone, and have given away my honor too carelessly: there’s something inside me that makes me regret my actions; but it’s such a strong, stubborn fault, it just mocks any regret.
With the same ’havior that your passion bears Goes on my master’s grief.
Just like your passion, my master’s grief keeps going.
Here, wear this jewel for me, ’tis my picture; Refuse it not; it hath no tongue to vex you; And I beseech you come again to-morrow. What shall you ask of me that I’ll deny, That honour saved may upon asking give?
Here, wear this jewel for me; it’s my picture. Don’t refuse it; it can’t speak to annoy you. And please, come back tomorrow. What could you ask of me that I wouldn’t give, as long as it doesn’t hurt my honor?
Nothing but this; your true love for my master.
Nothing except this: your true love for my master.
How with mine honour may I give him that Which I have given to you?
How can I give him what I’ve already given to you without hurting my honor?
I will acquit you.
I’ll take care of it.
Well, come again to-morrow: fare thee well: A fiend like thee might bear my soul to hell.
Well, come back tomorrow: goodbye. A devil like you might drag my soul to hell.
Gentleman, God save thee.
Sir, God keep you.
And you, sir.
And you, sir.
That defence thou hast, betake thee to’t: of what nature the wrongs are thou hast done him, I know not; but thy intercepter, full of despite, bloody as the hunter, attends thee at the orchard-end: dismount thy tuck, be yare in thy preparation, for thy assailant is quick, skilful and deadly.
You’ve got a chance to defend yourself: I don’t know what wrongs you’ve done him, but your attacker, full of anger, as ruthless as a hunter, is waiting for you at the edge of the orchard. Put away your sword, get ready, because your enemy is quick, skilled, and deadly.
You mistake, sir; I am sure no man hath any quarrel to me: my remembrance is very free and clear from any image of offence done to any man.
You’re mistaken, sir; I’m sure no one has a quarrel with me: I’m clear of any wrongdoing or offense toward anyone.
You’ll find it otherwise, I assure you: therefore, if you hold your life at any price, betake you to your guard; for your opposite hath in him what youth, strength, skill and wrath can furnish man withal.
You’ll find it’s not like that, I assure you: so, if you value your life at all, get ready to defend yourself; your opponent has everything—youth, strength, skill, and anger—that can make a man dangerous.
I pray you, sir, what is he?
Please, sir, who is he?
He is knight, dubbed with unhatched rapier and on carpet consideration; but he is a devil in private brawl: souls and bodies hath he divorced three; and his incensement at this moment is so implacable, that satisfaction can be none but by pangs of death and sepulchre. Hob, nob, is his word; give’t or take’t.
He’s a knight, equipped with an untested sword, chosen for his social standing; but in a personal fight, he’s a demon. He’s killed three people, and right now his rage is so intense that only death or burial can calm it. "Hob, nob" is his phrase; you give or take the challenge.
I will return again into the house and desire some conduct of the lady. I am no fighter. I have heard of some kind of men that put quarrels purposely on others, to taste their valour: belike this is a man of that quirk.
I’ll go back into the house and ask the lady to help me. I’m not a fighter. I’ve heard of people who start fights on purpose just to test others’ bravery—maybe this is one of those men.
Sir, no; his indignation derives itself out of a very competent injury: therefore, get you on and give him his desire. Back you shall not to the house, unless you undertake that with me which with as much safety you might answer him: therefore, on, or strip your sword stark naked; for meddle you must, that’s certain, or forswear to wear iron about you.
No, sir; his anger comes from a real injury. So, go on and give him what he wants. You can’t go back to the house unless you’re willing to do what I would do: you either fight or you swear never to carry a sword again.
This is as uncivil as strange. I beseech you, do me this courteous office, as to know of the knight what my offence to him is: it is something of my negligence, nothing of my purpose.
This is as rude as it is strange. Please, do me the kindness of finding out what I’ve done to offend the knight. It’s something I did by accident, certainly not on purpose.
I will do so. Signior Fabian, stay you by this gentleman till my return.
I’ll do that. Signior Fabian, please stay with this gentleman until I return.
Pray you, sir, do you know of this matter?
Please, sir, do you know what this is about?
I know the knight is incensed against you, even to a mortal arbitrement; but nothing of the circumstance more.
I know the knight is furious with you, to the point of a deadly duel; but I don’t know any details beyond that.
I beseech you, what manner of man is he?
Please, what kind of man is he?
Nothing of that wonderful promise, to read him by his form, as you are like to find him in the proof of his valour. He is, indeed, sir, the most skilful, bloody and fatal opposite that you could possibly have found in any part of Illyria. Will you walk towards him? I will make your peace with him if I can.
Nothing like the great promise he looks to have based on his appearance, but you’ll see him for yourself in the test of his courage. He is, honestly, the most skilled, brutal, and deadly enemy you could find anywhere in Illyria. Do you want to go towards him? I’ll try to make peace between you if I can.
I shall be much bound to you for’t: I am one that had rather go with sir priest than sir knight: I care not who knows so much of my mettle.
I’d be very grateful for that: I’m someone who would rather go with a priest than a knight: I don’t mind if people know that about me.
Why, man, he’s a very devil; I have not seen such a firago. I had a pass with him, rapier, scabbard and all, and he gives me the stuck in with such a mortal motion, that it is inevitable; and on the answer, he pays you as surely as your feet hit the ground they step on. They say he has been fencer to the Sophy.
I tell you, man, he’s a real devil; I’ve never seen anyone like him. I had a fight with him, rapier and all, and he hit me with such deadly force that it was impossible to avoid; and when he strikes back, he does so with perfect precision. They say he was a fencing master to the Persian king.
Pox on’t, I’ll not meddle with him.
Damn it, I won’t mess with him.
Ay, but he will not now be pacified: Fabian can scarce hold him yonder.
But he won’t calm down now: Fabian can barely hold him over there.
Plague on’t, an I thought he had been valiant and so cunning in fence, I’ld have seen him damned ere I’ld have challenged him. Let him let the matter slip, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
Damn it, if I’d known he was both brave and skilled with a sword, I would have rather been damned than challenged him. Let him forget the whole thing, and I’ll give him my horse, grey Capilet.
I’ll make the motion: stand here, make a good show on’t: this shall end without the perdition of souls.
I’ll take care of it: just stand here and look good doing it. This will all end without anyone’s soul being lost.
Marry, I’ll ride your horse as well as I ride you.
Honestly, I’ll ride your horse as easily as I could ride you.
I have his horse to take up the quarrel: I have persuaded him the youth’s a devil.
I’ve got his horse to settle the quarrel: I’ve convinced him that the young man’s a devil.
He is as horribly conceited of him; and pants and looks pale, as if a bear were at his heels.
He’s so full of himself about it; he’s panting and looking pale, like a bear is chasing him.
[To VIOLA] There’s no remedy, sir; he will fight with you for’s oath sake: marry, he hath better bethought him of his quarrel, and he finds that now scarce to be worth talking of: therefore draw, for the supportance of his vow; he protests he will not hurt you.
[To VIOLA] There’s nothing we can do, sir; he will fight with you because of his oath: but actually, he’s thought more about his quarrel, and he now thinks it’s not even worth discussing: so draw your sword, to keep his vow; he promises he won’t hurt you.
[Aside] Pray God defend me! A little thing would make me tell them how much I lack of a man.
[Aside] I pray God protect me! A small thing would make me show them how little of a man I am.
Give ground, if you see him furious.
Step back, if you see him getting angry.
Come, Sir Andrew, there’s no remedy; the gentleman will, for his honour’s sake, have one bout with you; he cannot by the duello avoid it: but he has promised me, as he is a gentleman and a soldier, he will not hurt you. Come on; to’t.
Come on, Sir Andrew, there’s nothing we can do; the gentleman will, for the sake of his honour, fight with you; he can’t avoid it by the rules of the duel: but he’s promised me, as a gentleman and a soldier, that he won’t hurt you. Come on; let’s get on with it.
Pray God, he keep his oath!
I pray God, he keeps his promise!
I do assure you, ’tis against my will.
I swear to you, this is not what I want.
Put up your sword. If this young gentleman Have done offence, I take the fault on me: If you offend him, I for him defy you.
Put away your sword. If this young gentleman has done something wrong, I take the blame for it: If you hurt him, I challenge you in his place.
You, sir! why, what are you?
You, sir! What are you?
One, sir, that for his love dares yet do more Than you have heard him brag to you he will.
I’m someone, sir, who for love will do even more than you’ve heard him brag about doing.
Nay, if you be an undertaker, I am for you.
Well, if you’re looking for trouble, I’m ready for you.
O good Sir Toby, hold! here come the officers.
Oh, good Sir Toby, stop! Here come the officers.
I’ll be with you anon.
I’ll be with you in a minute.
Pray, sir, put your sword up, if you please.
Please, sir, put your sword away, if you don’t mind.
Marry, will I, sir; and, for that I promised you, I’ll be as good as my word: he will bear you easily and reins well.
Sure, I will, sir; and since I promised you, I’ll keep my word: he will handle you easily and keep control well.
This is the man; do thy office.
This is the man; do your job.
Antonio, I arrest thee at the suit of Count Orsino.
Antonio, I arrest you at the request of Count Orsino.
You do mistake me, sir.
You’re mistaken, sir.
No, sir, no jot; I know your favour well, Though now you have no sea-cap on your head. Take him away: he knows I know him well.
No, sir, not at all; I recognize you well, Even though you don’t have a sea cap on your head right now. Take him away: he knows I know him well.
I must obey.
I must obey.
This comes with seeking you: But there’s no remedy; I shall answer it. What will you do, now my necessity Makes me to ask you for my purse? It grieves me Much more for what I cannot do for you Than what befalls myself. You stand amazed; But be of comfort.
This is because I’ve been looking for you: But there’s nothing I can do; I’ll accept it. What will you do now that my need Forces me to ask you for my purse? It hurts me Far more for what I can’t do for you Than what happens to me. You’re stunned; But take heart.
Come, sir, away.
Come, sir, let’s go.
I must entreat of you some of that money.
I must ask you for some of that money.
What money, sir? For the fair kindness you have show’d me here, And, part, being prompted by your present trouble, Out of my lean and low ability I’ll lend you something: my having is not much; I’ll make division of my present with you: Hold, there’s half my coffer.
What money, sir? For the kind help you’ve shown me here, And partly because I see you’re in trouble right now, I’ll lend you something out of my limited resources: I don’t have much; I’ll share what I have with you: Here, take half of my purse.
Will you deny me now? Is’t possible that my deserts to you Can lack persuasion? Do not tempt my misery, Lest that it make me so unsound a man As to upbraid you with those kindnesses That I have done for you.
Will you refuse me now? Is it possible that my service to you Can’t convince you? Don’t push my desperation, Or it might make me do something desperate, Like reproach you for the kindnesses I’ve done for you.
I know of none; Nor know I you by voice or any feature: I hate ingratitude more in a man Than lying, vainness, babbling, drunkenness, Or any taint of vice whose strong corruption Inhabits our frail blood.
I don’t know what you mean; Nor do I recognize you by voice or appearance: I hate ingratitude in a man More than lying, vanity, gossip, drunkenness, Or any kind of vice that corrupts us In our fragile nature.
O heavens themselves!
Oh, heavens above!
Come, sir, I pray you, go.
Come, sir, please, let’s go.
Let me speak a little. This youth that you see here I snatch’d one half out of the jaws of death, Relieved him with such sanctity of love, And to his image, which methought did promise Most venerable worth, did I devotion.
Let me talk for a moment. This young man you see here I pulled from the very edge of death, I saved him with the purest love, And to his image, which I thought showed Great worth, I gave my devotion.
What’s that to us? The time goes by: away!
What does that have to do with us? Time is passing: move on!
But O how vile an idol proves this god Thou hast, Sebastian, done good feature shame. In nature there’s no blemish but the mind; None can be call’d deform’d but the unkind: Virtue is beauty, but the beauteous evil Are empty trunks o’erflourish’d by the devil.
But oh, how worthless this idol turns out to be, You’ve shamed the good looks of my Sebastian. In nature, there’s no flaw except in the mind; No one can be called ugly except the cruel: Virtue is beauty, but the beautiful evil Are like empty shells decorated by the devil.
The man grows mad: away with him! Come, come, sir.
The man is going mad: take him away! Come on, sir.
Lead me on.
Lead me on.
Methinks his words do from such passion fly, That he believes himself: so do not I. Prove true, imagination, O, prove true, That I, dear brother, be now ta’en for you!
It seems his words come from such deep emotion, That he believes himself: but I don’t believe him. Prove true, imagination, oh, prove true, That I, dear brother, am now mistaken for you!
Come hither, knight; come hither, Fabian: we’ll whisper o’er a couplet or two of most sage saws.
Come here, knight; come here, Fabian: we’ll whisper a couple of wise sayings to each other.
He named Sebastian: I my brother know Yet living in my glass; even such and so In favour was my brother, and he went Still in this fashion, colour, ornament, For him I imitate: O, if it prove, Tempests are kind and salt waves fresh in love.
He mentioned Sebastian: I still remember my brother As he looked in my mirror; just like that, in the same Style, color, and appearance, It’s for him I’m copying this: oh, if this works, Storms are kind and saltwater is refreshing in love.
A very dishonest paltry boy, and more a coward than a hare: his dishonesty appears in leaving his friend here in necessity and denying him; and for his cowardship, ask Fabian.
A very dishonest, pathetic boy, and more of a coward than a rabbit: his dishonesty shows in abandoning his friend when he needed him and denying him; and as for his cowardice, ask Fabian.
A coward, a most devout coward, religious in it.
A coward, a most devout coward, pious in it.
’Slid, I’ll after him again and beat him.
Damn it, I’ll go after him again and beat him.
Do; cuff him soundly, but never draw thy sword.
Go ahead; slap him around well, but never draw your sword.
An I do not,--
If I don’t—
Come, let’s see the event.
Come on, let’s see what happens.
I dare lay any money ’twill be nothing yet.
I bet any amount of money it will still be nothing.