The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (336 page)

the Duke will give him all the honor

available to him.

COUNTESS

Return you thither?

Are you going back there?

First Gentleman

Ay, madam, with the swiftest wing of speed.

Yes madam, as quick as we can.

HELENA

[Reads] Till I have no wife I have nothing in France.

'Tis bitter.

[Reading] Until I have no wife there's nothing for me in France.

That's bitter.

COUNTESS

Find you that there?

Is that what it says?

HELENA

Ay, madam.

Yes, madam.

First Gentleman

'Tis but the boldness of his hand, haply, which his

heart was not consenting to.

Maybe these are just rash words, which he

didn't really mean.

COUNTESS

Nothing in France, until he have no wife!

There's nothing here that is too good for him

But only she; and she deserves a lord

That twenty such rude boys might tend upon

And call her hourly mistress. Who was with him?

There's nothing in France, until he has no wife!

The only thing here that is too good for him

is her; she deserves a lord who has

Twenty rude boys like him as servants

who would call her mistress every hour. Who was with him?

First Gentleman

A servant only, and a gentleman

Which I have sometime known.

Just a servant, and a gentleman

I have met before.

COUNTESS

Parolles, was it not?

Parolles, wasn't it?

First Gentleman

Ay, my good lady, he.

Yes, my good lady, it was him.

COUNTESS

A very tainted fellow, and full of wickedness.

My son corrupts a well-derived nature

With his inducement.

A very bad character, full of wickedness.

He has persuaded my son to go against

his good nature.

First Gentleman

Indeed, good lady,

The fellow has a deal of that too much,

Which holds him much to have.

Indeed, good lady,

the fellow has far too much

of things he shouldn't have.

COUNTESS

You're welcome, gentlemen.

I will entreat you, when you see my son,

To tell him that his sword can never win

The honour that he loses: more I'll entreat you

Written to bear along.

Gentlemen, you are welcome.

I beg you, when you see my son,

tell him that he can never win with his sword

the honour that he is losing: and what's more I'll ask

that you take a letter to him.

Second Gentleman

We serve you, madam,

In that and all your worthiest affairs.

We are at your service, madam,

in this and in all your noble business.

COUNTESS

Not so, but as we change our courtesies.

Will you draw near!

It's not the case, but your courtesy is appreciated.

Will you come with me!

Exeunt COUNTESS and Gentlemen

HELENA

'Till I have no wife, I have nothing in France.'

Nothing in France, until he has no wife!

Thou shalt have none, Rousillon, none in France;

Then hast thou all again. Poor lord! is't I

That chase thee from thy country and expose

Those tender limbs of thine to the event

Of the none-sparing war? and is it I

That drive thee from the sportive court, where thou

Wast shot at with fair eyes, to be the mark

Of smoky muskets? O you leaden messengers,

That ride upon the violent speed of fire,

Fly with false aim; move the still-peering air,

That sings with piercing; do not touch my lord.

‘Until I have no wife, there's nothing for me in France.’

Nothing in France, in till he has no wife!

You shall have none, Rousillon, none in France;

then you will get everything back. Poor lord! Is it I

who chases you from your country and exposes

those young limbs of yours to the risk

of the all consuming war? And is it I

who chases you from the jolly court, where you

were shot at with glances from fair eyes, to be the target

of smoking rifles? Oh you messengers of lead,

thatare pushed along by the violence of explosions,

be badly aimed; fly through the empty air

that sings with your noise; do not touch my lord.

Whoever shoots at him, I set him there;

Whoever charges on his forward breast,

I am the caitiff that do hold him to't;

And, though I kill him not, I am the cause

His death was so effected: better 'twere

I met the ravin lion when he roar'd

With sharp constraint of hunger; better 'twere

That all the miseries which nature owes

Were mine at once. No, come thou home, Rousillon,

Whence honour but of danger wins a scar,

As oft it loses all: I will be gone;

My being here it is that holds thee hence:

Shall I stay here to do't? no, no, although

The air of paradise did fan the house

And angels officed all: I will be gone,

That pitiful rumour may report my flight,

To consolate thine ear. Come, night; end, day!

For with the dark, poor thief, I'll steal away.

Exit

Whoever shoots at him, I put him there;

whoever charges towards his chest,

I am the coward that put him in the firing line; and

although I do not kill him, I will be the reason

for his death: it would be better

if I faced a raging lion, roaring

in his hunger; it would be better

if all the miseries of the world

became mine at once. No, come home, Rousillon,

from where honor may get a scar from danger,

but just as often loses everything: I will go;

my being here is all that keeps you away:

will I stay here to keep you out? No, no, not even

if this house was in paradise

with angels for servants: I will go,

so that the gossip can report my flight

and make you feel better. Come, night; end, day!

I will disappear like a poor thief in the night.

Flourish. Enter the DUKE of Florence, BERTRAM, PAROLLES, Soldiers, Drum, and Trumpets

DUKE

The general of our horse thou art; and we,

Great in our hope, lay our best love and credence

Upon thy promising fortune.

You are the leader of our cavalry; and I

have great hopes of you, and am putting my faith and belief

in your promising talents.

BERTRAM

Sir, it is

A charge too heavy for my strength, but yet

We'll strive to bear it for your worthy sake

To the extreme edge of hazard.

Sir, it is

too much responsibility for me, but still

for your worthy sake we will do our best

to the utmost extreme.

DUKE

Then go thou forth;

And fortune play upon thy prosperous helm,

As thy auspicious mistress!

Then go into battle;

and may luck shine upon your helmet,

as your happy mistress!

BERTRAM

This very day,

Great Mars, I put myself into thy file:

Make me but like my thoughts, and I shall prove

A lover of thy drum, hater of love.

Exeunt

This is the day,

great Mars, that I join your ranks:

if my actions follow my thoughts I will show myself

a lover of your drum, a hater of love.

Enter COUNTESS and Steward

COUNTESS

Alas! and would you take the letter of her? Might you not know she would do as she has done, By sending me a letter? Read it again.

Alas! Why did you accept a letter from her?

Couldn't you guess that she would do what she has done,

by sending me a letter? Read it again.

Steward

[Reads] I am Saint Jaques' pilgrim, thither gone: Ambitious love hath so in me offended, That barefoot plod I the cold ground upon, With sainted vow my faults to have amended. Write, write, that from the bloody course of war My dearest master, your dear son, may hie: Bless him at home in peace, whilst I from far His name with zealous fervor sanctify: His taken labours bid him me forgive; I, his despiteful Juno, sent him forth From courtly friends, with camping foes to live, Where death and danger dogs the heels of worth: He is too good and fair for death and me: Whom I myself embrace, to set him free.

I have gone on a pilgrimage to St James:

my ambitious love has caused such offence

that I am going to walk the cold ground barefoot,

asking the saint to correct my thoughts.

Please write to my dearest master, your dear son,

so that he will come back from the bloody war;

give him peace at home, while I from far off

will worship his name passionately:

ask him to forgive me the trouble I have caused him;