The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (369 page)

his love, his mistress; and I set him every day to

woo me: at which time would I, being but a moonish

youth, grieve, be effeminate, changeable, longing

and liking, proud, fantastical, apish, shallow,

inconstant, full of tears, full of smiles, for every

passion something and for no passion truly any

thing, as boys and women are for the most part

cattle of this colour; would now like him, now loathe

him; then entertain him, then forswear him; now weep

for him, then spit at him; that I drave my suitor

from his mad humour of love to a living humour of

madness; which was, to forswear the full stream of

the world, and to live in a nook merely monastic.

And thus I cured him; and this way will I take upon

me to wash your liver as clean as a sound sheep's

heart, that there shall not be one spot of love in't.

Yes, one person, and here is how: I had him imagine that I

was his love and mistress, and every day he had to

woo me. When he did, I acted as a fickle

youth and would cry, act effeminate, change my moods, long for him

and like him, act proud, dream, mock him, be shallow,

inconsistent, full of tears or full of smiles, act

passionate about everything and then about

nothing – as young boys and women are prone

to acting – would like him and then hate

him, would enjoy him and then curse him, would cry

for him and then spit at him, all until I drove the young man

away from this insane love and a toward a living

anger. He then swore off the entire

world and went to live in a monastery.

Thus, I cured him, and in this way I will take the job

of washing your liver as clean as a spotless sheep’s

heart, so that not a single spot of love is in it.

ORLANDO

I would not be cured, youth.

I can’t be cured, youth.

ROSALIND

I would cure you, if you would but call me Rosalind

and come every day to my cote and woo me.

I can cure you, if you just call me Rosalind

and come every day to my cottage to woo me.

ORLANDO

Now, by the faith of my love, I will: tell me

where it is.

I swear by my love I will – tell me

where the cottage is.

ROSALIND

Go with me to it and I'll show it you and by the way

you shall tell me where in the forest you live.

Will you go?

Come with me and I will show you, and on the way

you can tell me where in the forest you live.

Will you come?

ORLANDO

With all my heart, good youth.

Will all of my heart, youth.

ROSALIND

Nay you must call me Rosalind. Come, sister, will you go?

No, you have to call me Rosalind. Come, sister, come with us.

Exeunt

Enter TOUCHSTONE and AUDREY; JAQUES behind

TOUCHSTONE

Come apace, good Audrey: I will fetch up your

goats, Audrey. And how, Audrey? am I the man yet?

doth my simple feature content you?

Come on, good Audrey. I will fetch your

goats, Audrey. What do you think, Audrey? Am I the man for you yet?

Do my simple features please you?

AUDREY

Your features! Lord warrant us! what features!

Your features! God help me! What features?

TOUCHSTONE

I am here with thee and thy goats, as the most

capricious poet, honest Ovid, was among the Goths.

I am here with you and your goats, just like

that witty poet, good Ovid, was with the Goths.

JAQUES

[Aside] O knowledge ill-inhabited, worse than Jove

in a thatched house!

Poorly used knowledge is worse that God

kept in a thatched house!

TOUCHSTONE

When a man's verses cannot be understood, nor a

man's good wit seconded with the forward child

Understanding, it strikes a man more dead than a

great reckoning in a little room. Truly, I would

the gods had made thee poetical.

When a man’s poetry is not understood, and

when a man’s good jokes are thrown away by the child named

Understanding, it feels worse than

getting a big bill for staying in a small room. Truly, I wish

the gods had made you more poetical.

AUDREY

I do not know what 'poetical' is: is it honest in

deed and word? is it a true thing?

I don’t know what “poetical” means. It is being honest

in action and word? Is it a true thing?

TOUCHSTONE

No, truly; for the truest poetry is the most

feigning; and lovers are given to poetry, and what

they swear in poetry may be said as lovers they do feign.

No, for the truest poetry often

fakes the most. Lovers tend to use poetry,

and whatever they swear in their poetry is often exaggerated.

AUDREY

Do you wish then that the gods had made me poetical?

And you wish that the gods made me poetical?

TOUCHSTONE

I do, truly; for thou swearest to me thou art

honest: now, if thou wert a poet, I might have some

hope thou didst feign.

I do, yes. Right now you swear to me that you are

honest and chaste – if you were a poet, I could

hope that you are lying.

AUDREY

Would you not have me honest?

You don’t want me to be chaste?

TOUCHSTONE

No, truly, unless thou wert hard-favoured; for

honesty coupled to beauty is to have honey a sauce to sugar.

No, really, unless you were not attractive.

Chastity alongside beauty is like having honey sweetened by adding sugar.

JAQUES

[Aside] A material fool!

This fool is logical at least.

AUDREY

Well, I am not fair; and therefore I pray the gods

make me honest.

Well I am not beautiful, so I pray that the gods

make me chaste.

TOUCHSTONE

Truly, and to cast away honesty upon a foul slut

were to put good meat into an unclean dish.

Yes, but to give chastity to a dirty slut

is like putting good meat on a dirty plate.

AUDREY

I am not a slut, though I thank the gods I am foul.

I am not a slut, though I am thankful that I am dirty.

TOUCHSTONE

Well, praised be the gods for thy foulness!

sluttishness may come hereafter. But be it as it may

be, I will marry thee, and to that end I have been

with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar of the next

village, who hath promised to meet me in this place

of the forest and to couple us.

Well God be praised for your dirtiness!

Maybe you will become a slut later. Regardless,

I will marry you, and to do so I have spoken

with Sir Oliver Martext, the vicar in the next

village, who has promised to meet us here

in the forest and marry us.

JAQUES

[Aside] I would fain see this meeting.

I won’t miss this meeting.

AUDREY

Well, the gods give us joy!

The gods give us joy!

TOUCHSTONE

Amen. A man may, if he were of a fearful heart,

stagger in this attempt; for here we have no temple

but the wood, no assembly but horn-beasts. But what

though? Courage! As horns are odious, they are

necessary. It is said, 'many a man knows no end of

his goods:' right; many a man has good horns, and

knows no end of them. Well, that is the dowry of

his wife; 'tis none of his own getting. Horns?

Even so. Poor men alone? No, no; the noblest deer

hath them as huge as the rascal. Is the single man

therefore blessed? No: as a walled town is more

worthier than a village, so is the forehead of a

married man more honourable than the bare brow of a

bachelor; and by how much defence is better than no

skill, by so much is a horn more precious than to

want. Here comes Sir Oliver.

Amen. A man, if he is scared,

might pause in this attempt – after all, there is no church

in the forest, no congregation except for horned beasts. But what

of it? I will be brave! As awful as horns are, they are

also necessary. It is said, “Many men do not know how much

they have.” Exactly: many men have horns on their cheating wives,

and they do not know it. Well, that is the proper gift

a wife brings; it’s not something he gets himself. Horns?

Fine. And are they only for poor men? No, the noblest man

has them as much as the poor rascal does. So is the single man

blessed? No, just as a fortified city is more

valuable than a village, so too is the forehead of a

married man more honorable than the bare brow of a

bachelor. Similarly, it is better to know how to defend oneself rather

than to have no fighting skills at all – so it is more valuable to risk being cheated on

than to not be married. Here comes Sir Oliver.

Enter SIR OLIVER MARTEXT

Sir Oliver Martext, you are well met: will you

dispatch us here under this tree, or shall we go

with you to your chapel?

Greetings Sir Oliver Martext: will you

wed us here under the tree, or shall we go

with you to your chapel?

SIR OLIVER MARTEXT

Is there none here to give the woman?

And no one here will give the woman away?

TOUCHSTONE

I will not take her on gift of any man.

I will not take her as a gift from someone else.

SIR OLIVER MARTEXT

Truly, she must be given, or the marriage is not lawful.