The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (969 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
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SIWARD

He's worth no more

They say he parted well, and paid his score:

And so, God be with him! Here comes newer comfort.

 

He’s worth no more.

They say he went quickly, and settled his score.

So, God be with him! Here comes new comfort.

 

Re-enter MACDUFF, with MACBETH's head

 

MACDUFF

Hail, king! for so thou art: behold, where stands

The usurper's cursed head: the time is free:

I see thee compass'd with thy kingdom's pearl,

That speak my salutation in their minds;

Whose voices I desire aloud with mine:

Hail, King of Scotland!

 

Hail, king! That’s what you are now. Look,

here is the offender’s cursed head. We are free now.

I see you are surrounded by the kingdom’s best,

and they speak in my mind what I want to say.

I want them to join me in saying:

Hail, King of Scotland!

 

ALL

Hail, King of Scotland!

 

Hail, King of Scotland!

 

Flourish

 

MALCOLM

We shall not spend a large expense of time

Before we reckon with your several loves,

And make us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen,

Henceforth be earls, the first that ever Scotland

In such an honour named. What's more to do,

Which would be planted newly with the time,

As calling home our exiled friends abroad

That fled the snares of watchful tyranny;

Producing forth the cruel ministers

Of this dead butcher and his fiend-like queen,

Who, as 'tis thought, by self and violent hands

Took off her life; this, and what needful else

That calls upon us, by the grace of Grace,

We will perform in measure, time and place:

So, thanks to all at once and to each one,

Whom we invite to see us crown'd at Scone.

 

We will not spend a large amount of time,

before we figure out your honors, and make

us even with you. My thanes and kinsmen—

you will be earls, the first that Scotland

has ever known. There’s more to do in this

new time. We must call home our exiled friends

who are abroad, having fled the devices

of a watchful tyranny, and we must bring

forth the cruel agents of this dead butcher

and his evil wife, who it is said took her

own life. This, and whatever else is needed,

we will perform by the grace of God in

measure, time and place. Thanks to everyone

and to each one, who we invite to see us

crowned at Scone.

 

Flourish. Exeunt

 

 

 

DUKE OF VENICE


BRABANTIO, a Senator.

Other Senators.

GRATIANO, Brother to Brabantio


LODOVICO, Kinsman to Brabantio

OTHELLO, a noble Moor, in the service of Venice


CASSIO, his Lieutenant

IAGO, his Ancient

RODERIGO, a Venetian Gentleman

MONTANO, Othello's predecessor in the government of Cyprus

CLOWN, Servant to Othello

Herald

DESDEMONA, Daughter to Brabantio, and Wife to Othello

EMILIA, Wife to Iago

BIANCA, Mistress to Cassio

Officers, Gentlemen, Messenger, Musicians, Herald, Sailor,

Attendants, &c.

 

 

 

 

Enter RODERIGO and IAGO

 

RODERIGO

Tush! never tell me; I take it much unkindly

Be quiet! Don’t tell me this – I am already annoyed

That thou, Iago, who hast had my purse

That you, Iago, who already uses my money

As if the strings were thine, shouldst know of this.

As if it were yours, knows about this.

 

IAGO

'Sblood, but you will not hear me:

My god, you won’t listen to me.

If ever I did dream of such a matter, Abhor me.

If I even so much as dreamed this were true, which I didn’t, then go ahead and hate me.

 

RODERIGO

Thou told'st me thou didst hold him in thy hate.

You told me that you hated him.

 

IAGO

Despise me, if I do not. Three great ones of the city,

You can hate me if I was lying: I do hate him. Three of the city’s noblemen

In personal suit to make me his lieutenant,

Approached him personally and asked him to make me his next-in-command,

Off-capp'd to him: and, by the faith of man,

Even took their hats off to him. Moreover, I promise you,

I know my price, I am worth no worse a place:

I know my own value and that I deserve that position.

But he; as loving his own pride and purposes,

But he, because he is prideful and loves his own reasons most,

Evades them, with a bombast circumstance

Avoided their request with puffed up speech

Horribly stuff'd with epithets of war;

Full of military jargon and patriotic quotes,

And, in conclusion,

And, finally,

Nonsuits my mediators; for, 'Certes,' says he,

Rejected the noblemen, saying, “In fact,

'I have already chose my officer.'

I have already chosen my lieutenant.”

And what was he?

Who did he choose?

Forsooth, a great arithmetician,

None other than the great statistician

One Michael Cassio, a Florentine,

Michael Cassio, from Florence,

A fellow almost damn'd in a fair wife;

A man almost cursed with such a beautiful wife,

That never set a squadron in the field,

A man who never moved troops in combat

Nor the division of a battle knows

And knows less of how an actual battle plays out

More than a spinster; unless the bookish theoric,

Than an unmarried woman – unless you count theories he read in books

Wherein the toged consuls can propose

That any gown-wearing politician can explain

As masterly as he: mere prattle, without practise,

As well as he can. He speaks simply to speak, and has no actual fighting

Is all his soldiership. But he, sir, had the election:

To back up his military life. But it is he, Roderigo, who was chosen:

And I, of whom his eyes had seen the proof

And as for me, whose bravery and talent he saw

At Rhodes, at Cyprus and on other grounds

At Rhodes and Cyprus and all over,

Christian and heathen, must be be-lee'd and calm'd

On Christian ground and foreign land, I must act calm

By debitor and creditor: this counter-caster,

In front of this accountant. So Cassio, this numbers-man,

He, in good time, must his lieutenant be,

Will become his lieutenant,

And I--God bless the mark!--his Moorship's ancient.

While I – how stupid – must hold the flag for the Moor general.

 

RODERIGO

By heaven, I rather would have been his hangman.

I swear, I would rather be his executioner.

 

IAGO

Why, there's no remedy; 'tis the curse of service,

And there is no cure for it all. It’s the curse of the military life:

Preferment goes by letter and affection,

Promotions come from how liked one is,

And not by old gradation, where each second

And not from simple hierarchy where one

Stood heir to the first. Now, sir, be judge yourself,

Moves up to the next rank. Now, Roderigo, you tell me

Whether I in any just term am affined

If I am in any position

To love the Moor.

To love and respect the Moor general.

RODERIGO

I would not follow him then.

If it were me, I would not serve him.

 

IAGO

O, sir, content you;

Now don’t be hasty:

I follow him to serve my turn upon him:

I serve under him now, but for my own purposes –

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