Original
Modern English
Will you make me believe that I am not sent for you?
Are you seriously going to make me believe that I wasn’t called for you?
Go to, go to, thou art a foolish fellow: Let me be clear of thee.
Oh, stop it. You’re a silly guy: Just leave me alone.
Well held out, i’ faith! No, I do not know you; nor I am not sent to you by my lady, to bid you come speak with her; nor your name is not Master Cesario; nor this is not my nose neither. Nothing that is so is so.
Well done, really! No, I don’t know you; and I wasn’t sent by my lady to ask you to talk to her; your name isn’t Master Cesario; and this isn’t even my nose. Nothing is what it seems.
I prithee, vent thy folly somewhere else: Thou know’st not me.
Please, take your nonsense somewhere else: You don’t know me.
Vent my folly! he has heard that word of some great man and now applies it to a fool. Vent my folly! I am afraid this great lubber, the world, will prove a cockney. I prithee now, ungird thy strangeness and tell me what I shall vent to my lady: shall I vent to her that thou art coming?
Take my nonsense somewhere else! You must’ve heard that phrase from some important person and now you’re using it on a fool. Take my nonsense somewhere else! I’m afraid the world, this big fool, will end up being a poser. Please, take off your weird act and tell me what to say to my lady: should I tell her you’re coming?
I prithee, foolish Greek, depart from me: There’s money for thee: if you tarry longer, I shall give worse payment.
Please, foolish man, leave me alone: Here’s some money for you: if you stick around longer, I’ll give you a worse reward.
By my troth, thou hast an open hand. These wise men that give fools money get themselves a good report--after fourteen years’ purchase.
By my word, you have a generous hand. These wise men who give fools money earn a good reputation—after fourteen years of it.
Now, sir, have I met you again? there’s for you.
So, have I run into you again? Here’s something for you.
Why, there’s for thee, and there, and there. Are all the people mad?
Well, here’s something for you, and here, and here. Is everyone crazy around here?
Hold, sir, or I’ll throw your dagger o’er the house.
Hold on, or I’ll throw your knife across the house.
This will I tell my lady straight: I would not be in some of your coats for two pence.
I’m going to tell my lady this right now: I wouldn’t want to be in some of your shoes for two pennies.
Come on, sir; hold.
Come on, sir; stop.
Nay, let him alone: I’ll go another way to work with him; I’ll have an action of battery against him, if there be any law in Illyria: though I struck him first, yet it’s no matter for that.
No, leave him alone: I’ll try a different way to deal with him; I’ll sue him for assault if there’s any law in Illyria: even though I hit him first, it doesn’t matter.
Let go thy hand.
Let go of me.
Come, sir, I will not let you go. Come, my young soldier, put up your iron: you are well fleshed; come on.
Come on, I won’t let you go. Come on, my young fighter, put away your sword: you’re already in the fight; come on.
I will be free from thee. What wouldst thou now? If thou darest tempt me further, draw thy sword.
I’ll get away from you. What do you want now? If you dare to push me further, draw your sword.
What, what? Nay, then I must have an ounce or two of this malapert blood from you.
What, what? Well then, I must take a bit of your rude blood.
Hold, Toby; on thy life I charge thee, hold!
Stop, Toby; I swear on your life, stop!
Madam!
Madam!
Will it be ever thus? Ungracious wretch, Fit for the mountains and the barbarous caves, Where manners ne’er were preach’d! out of my sight! Be not offended, dear Cesario. Rudesby, be gone!
Will it always be like this? Ungrateful fool, You belong in the wilderness and savage caves, Where no manners have ever been taught! Get out of my sight! Don’t be upset, dear Cesario. Go away, rude man!
I prithee, gentle friend, Let thy fair wisdom, not thy passion, sway In this uncivil and thou unjust extent Against thy peace. Go with me to my house, And hear thou there how many fruitless pranks This ruffian hath botch’d up, that thou thereby Mayst smile at this: thou shalt not choose but go: Do not deny. Beshrew his soul for me, He started one poor heart of mine in thee.
I beg you, kind friend, Let your good sense, not your anger, guide You in this unreasonable and unjust action Against your peace. Come with me to my house, And there you’ll hear about all the foolish things This thug has done, and you can laugh at it: You can’t refuse; come with me: Don’t say no. Curse his soul for me, He made me fall for you.
What relish is in this? how runs the stream? Or I am mad, or else this is a dream: Let fancy still my sense in Lethe steep; If it be thus to dream, still let me sleep!
What is happening here? Am I dreaming? Or am I going crazy? Let my mind sink into forgetfulness; If this is a dream, I want to keep dreaming!
Nay, come, I prithee; would thou’ldst be ruled by me!
No, come on, please; I wish you’d listen to me!
Madam, I will.
Madam, I will.
O, say so, and so be!
Oh, say that, and it will be so!