SAMPLES OF SHAKESPEARE IN MODERN ENGLISH TRANSLATION,
--compared with original texts.
The translation is by Mark O’Connor, who can be contacted
on tel. + 61 2 6247 3341 or email mark@Australianpoet.com
. He has translated Troilus and Cressida, Henry IV Part 1, and Twelfth Night.
For enthused responses from Shakespeare experts,
see the next posting
1.
Original (Troilus
and Cressida Act 2, scene 2, line 44 ff.)
HECTOR:
The wound of peace is surety,
Surety secure; but modest doubt is called
The beacon of the wise, the tent that searches
To th’bottom of the worst. Let Helen go.
Translation:
HECTOR:
Peace wounds us with false certainty,
For sure. And that’s why modest doubt is called
The torchlight of the wise, the probe that finds
The point deep in the wound, the worst we risk.
--Let Helen go.
For sure. And that’s why modest doubt is called
The torchlight of the wise, the probe that finds
The point deep in the wound, the worst we risk.
--Let Helen go.
--------------
2.
Original (Troilus and Cressida Act 3, scene 3, line
75):
'Tis certain, greatness, once fall'n out with
fortune,
Must fall out with men too: what the declined is
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.
Must fall out with men too: what the declined is
He shall as soon read in the eyes of others
As feel in his own fall; for men, like butterflies,
Show not their mealy wings but to the summer.
No doubt a great man who falls out with Fortune
Falls out with men. Before he feels his fall,
He’ll read what he now is in others’ eyes
–Since men, like butterflies, need summer days
To spread their powdery wings.
Falls out with men. Before he feels his fall,
He’ll read what he now is in others’ eyes
–Since men, like butterflies, need summer days
To spread their powdery wings.
3.
The Kissing Scene (Troilus Act 4, Sc. 5, line 54)
The Kissing Scene (Troilus Act 4, Sc. 5, line 54)
Original
PATROCLUS
Translation:
PATROCLUS
That was for Menelaus; this one's mine:
Patroclus kisses you.
MENELAUS
That's an ill-bred whim!
PATROCLUS
Oh Paris and I kiss all the time for him.
MENELAUS
I'll have my kiss, sir! Lady, by your leave.
CRESSIDA
When kissing, do you give or just receive?
PATROCLUS
I take and give.
Patroclus kisses you.
MENELAUS
That's an ill-bred whim!
PATROCLUS
Oh Paris and I kiss all the time for him.
MENELAUS
I'll have my kiss, sir! Lady, by your leave.
CRESSIDA
When kissing, do you give or just receive?
PATROCLUS
I take and give.
4.
ULYSSES (original - same scene)
Fie, fie upon her!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give accosting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity
And daughters of the game.
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip,
Nay, her foot speaks; her wanton spirits look out
At every joint and motive of her body.
O, these encounterers, so glib of tongue,
That give accosting welcome ere it comes,
And wide unclasp the tables of their thoughts
To every ticklish reader! set them down
For sluttish spoils of opportunity
And daughters of the game.
ULYSSES (translation)
Shame on her, yes, shame!
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Her tapping foot speaks; and lust’s spirit peeps
From each pert bend and flexure of her limbs.
Oh, these hail-fellow girls, so glib of tongue,
That flag the boarding party in before it hails,
And flip the diaries of their thoughts full frontal
To the itch-loined reader. Set such sluts down
For booty that a man may take by chance,
And daughters of the game.
There's language in her eye, her cheek, her lip;
Her tapping foot speaks; and lust’s spirit peeps
From each pert bend and flexure of her limbs.
Oh, these hail-fellow girls, so glib of tongue,
That flag the boarding party in before it hails,
And flip the diaries of their thoughts full frontal
To the itch-loined reader. Set such sluts down
For booty that a man may take by chance,
And daughters of the game.
5. from Twelfth Night
Original (Act 1, Sc 5)
Feste "Now mercury endue
thee with leasing, for thou speak'st well of
fools.
Translation
Feste. Yea! Mercury, god of fast talkers, give this lady a franchise; she speaks well of fools.
----------
6.
Original:
Twelfth Night Act 3, Sc 1
OLIVIA:
Under your hard construction must I sit,
To force that on you in a shameful cunning
Which you knew none of yours. What might you think?
Have you not set mine honour at the stake,
And baited it with all th'unmuzzled thoughts
That tyrannous heart can think? To one of your receiving
Enough is shown; a cypress, not a bosom,
Hideth my heart: so, let me hear you speak.
--
Translation:
OLIVIA:
Your harshest judgement's what I must accept:
--To force that ring upon you by deceit,
Which you well know's not yours. What might you think?
Have you not tied my honour to the stake
Like some poor shambling bear, and baited it
With all the un-muzzled hounds of blabbing thought
A tyrant could invent? Enough's been shown
For one of your quick uptake to perceive.
A lace veil, not a breast-bone, hides my heart. So, Now, sir, may I
hear you speak?
7.
Twelfth Night Act 1, Scene 3
Translation
Sir
Toby What’s your level of excellence in a
free fandango, knight?
Sir And. God’s truth, I can cut a caper. I can cut the mustard.
Sir Toby And I can cut the mutton for it.
Sir And. And I think I have the back-move about
as perfect as any man in Illyria.
Sir Toby But why are
these things hid? How come these gifts are curtained off—as if they mustn’t get
dust on them, like Miss Mary’s portrait? Why don’t you go to church in a samba,
and come home at a rumba? If I were you, every walk I did would be a jig. I
would not so much as piss in a chamberpot but with rhythm, at a sink-a-pace.
What has held you back so long? is this a world to hide virtues in? I knew it,
by the exquisite shape of your leg, I knew it had been shaped under the star of
a jitterbug.
Sir And. Yes,
it’s a strong leg, and it looks not too bad in half a pair of flame-red tights.
Shall we flash into a dance?
SIR
TOBY BELCH
SIR TOBY BELCH
Wherefore are these things hid?
wherefore have these gifts a curtain before 'em? are
they like to take dust, like Mistress Mall's picture? why dost
thou not go to church in a galliard and come home in a coranto? My very walk should be a jig; I would not so
much as make water but in a sink-a-pace. What dost thou mean?
Is it a world to hide virtues in? I did think, by the excellent
constitution of thy leg, it was formed under the star of a
galliard.
Ay, 'tis strong, and it does
indifferent well in a flame-coloured stock.
Shall we set about some revels?
8.
ULYSSES
(Troilus and Cressida Act 3, Scene 3)
Translation
Time
has, my lord, a knapsack on his back,
Where he flings food-scraps for oblivion.
Where he flings food-scraps for oblivion.
This
Time’s a great monster of ingratitudes.
His scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured
As fast as made, and then forgotten soon
His scraps are good deeds past, which are devoured
As fast as made, and then forgotten soon
As
done. Only persistence, my dear lord,
Keeps
honour bright. To pull back is to rust
Out-moded, like old armour on a wall
In monumental mockery. I recommend,
Out-moded, like old armour on a wall
In monumental mockery. I recommend,
Keep
up to date and at the front with Honour.
She
canters on a bridle-path so narrow,
Just
one can ride abreast. Let him persist;
For
competition breeds a thousand sons
Who each in turn pursue. If you give way,
Or veer an inch from the true upward path,
Swift as a tide breaks in, they all rush past
Who each in turn pursue. If you give way,
Or veer an inch from the true upward path,
Swift as a tide breaks in, they all rush past
And
leave you floundering; no better than
A gallant horse that falls in the first rank
To be a pavement for the vile rearguard
—Smashed down and scrambled over.
A gallant horse that falls in the first rank
To be a pavement for the vile rearguard
—Smashed down and scrambled over.
ULYSSES
Original
Time hath, my lord, a wallet at
his back,
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-sized monster of ingratitudes:
Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done: perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue: if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;
Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on:
Wherein he puts alms for oblivion,
A great-sized monster of ingratitudes:
Those scraps are good deeds past; which are devour'd
As fast as they are made, forgot as soon
As done: perseverance, dear my lord,
Keeps honour bright: to have done is to hang
Quite out of fashion, like a rusty mail
In monumental mockery. Take the instant way;
For honour travels in a strait so narrow,
Where one but goes abreast: keep then the path;
For emulation hath a thousand sons
That one by one pursue: if you give way,
Or hedge aside from the direct forthright,
Like to an enter'd tide, they all rush by
And leave you hindmost;
Or like a gallant horse fall'n in first rank,
Lie there for pavement to the abject rear,
O'er-run and trampled on:
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