The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (372 page)

To glean the broken ears after the man

That the main harvest reaps: loose now and then

A scatter'd smile, and that I'll live upon.

My love is so holy and perfect,

and I am so poorly returned for it,

that I will think of it as an overabundance

just to pick the leftover ears of corn after someone else

reaps the man harvest. Give now and then

a single smile thrown away, and I will live on that.

PHEBE

Know'st now the youth that spoke to me erewhile?

Do you know the young man who spoke to me before?

SILVIUS

Not very well, but I have met him oft;

And he hath bought the cottage and the bounds

That the old carlot once was master of.

Not well, but I have met him often.

He bought the cottage and land

that the old peasant watched over.

PHEBE

Think not I love him, though I ask for him:

'Tis but a peevish boy; yet he talks well;

But what care I for words? yet words do well

When he that speaks them pleases those that hear.

It is a pretty youth: not very pretty:

But, sure, he's proud, and yet his pride becomes him:

He'll make a proper man: the best thing in him

Is his complexion; and faster than his tongue

Did make offence his eye did heal it up.

He is not very tall; yet for his years he's tall:

His leg is but so so; and yet 'tis well:

There was a pretty redness in his lip,

A little riper and more lusty red

Than that mix'd in his cheek; 'twas just the difference

Between the constant red and mingled damask.

There be some women, Silvius, had they mark'd him

In parcels as I did, would have gone near

To fall in love with him; but, for my part,

I love him not nor hate him not; and yet

I have more cause to hate him than to love him:

For what had he to do to chide at me?

He said mine eyes were black and my hair black:

And, now I am remember'd, scorn'd at me:

I marvel why I answer'd not again:

But that's all one; omittance is no quittance.

I'll write to him a very taunting letter,

And thou shalt bear it: wilt thou, Silvius?

Do not think that I love him, though I am talking about him.

He is an obnoxious boy, but he speaks well –

but why do I care about that? Yet, words are working well

when the speaker pleases his audience by them.

He is a pretty young man – not that pretty – 

but he is proud, and his pride is somehow attractive.

He will become a proper, noble man, and his best feature

is his skin. Just when his tongue

offended me, his eyes healed the offense.

He is not very tall, but for his age his is.

His legs are only so-so, but that’s fine.

There was a pretty redness to his lips,

they were a deeper red color

than that which was in his cheek. It was the difference

between a pure red and a more pink color.

There are some women, Silvius, who, if they saw

everything I did, would have gotten close

to falling in love with him. But as for me,

I do not love him or hate him, though

I have more reason to hate him than to love him

since he did nothing but rebuke me.

He said my eyes and hair were black,

and I remember that he scorned me.

I’m surprised I didn’t fight back,

but that doesn’t matter, to say nothing is not just to quit.

I will write him a letter to taunt him

and you will take it to him – will you Silvius?

SILVIUS

Phebe, with all my heart.

With all of my heart, Phebe.

PHEBE

I'll write it straight;

The matter's in my head and in my heart:

I will be bitter with him and passing short.

Go with me, Silvius.

I will write it now,

since the matter is fresh in my head and heart.

I will be mean and short with him.

Come with me, Silvius.

Exeunt

Enter ROSALIND, CELIA, and JAQUES

JAQUES

I prithee, pretty youth, let me be better acquainted

with thee.

Please, good youth, let me know you better.

ROSALIND

They say you are a melancholy fellow.

They say you are a sad fellow.

JAQUES

I am so; I do love it better than laughing.

I am – I love being sad more than laughing.

ROSALIND

Those that are in extremity of either are abominable

fellows and betray themselves to every modern

censure worse than drunkards.

Those who are at the extremes of either are awful

men who open themselves up to every

ridicule more than drunkards do.

JAQUES

Why, 'tis good to be sad and say nothing.

But it is good to be sad and not say anything about it.

ROSALIND

Why then, 'tis good to be a post.

Then it is just as good to be a post.

JAQUES

I have neither the scholar's melancholy, which is

emulation, nor the musician's, which is fantastical,

nor the courtier's, which is proud, nor the

soldier's, which is ambitious, nor the lawyer's,

which is politic, nor the lady's, which is nice, nor

the lover's, which is all these: but it is a

melancholy of mine own, compounded of many simples,

extracted from many objects, and indeed the sundry's

contemplation of my travels, in which my often

rumination wraps me in a most humorous sadness.

I do not have the seriousness a scholar does, which is

meant to impress, or the musician’s, which comes from fantasy,

nor the court member’s, which is a proud seriousness, nor the

soldier’s, which comes from ambition, nor the lawyer’s,

which is political, nor the lady’s, which is polite, nor

the lover’s, which is all of these things.

My sadness is my own, made from many little things,

taken from many objects, and all of the many

things I have traveled to see. When

I think of these things, it wraps me up in a moody sadness.

ROSALIND

A traveller! By my faith, you have great reason to

be sad: I fear you have sold your own lands to see

other men's; then, to have seen much and to have

nothing, is to have rich eyes and poor hands.

A traveller! Then you have great reason to

be sad. I fear that you have sold your own land in order

to see other men’s, and then, when you have seen a lot and have

nothing, you have rich eyes and poor hands.

JAQUES

Yes, I have gained my experience.

I have gained a lot from my experience.

ROSALIND

And your experience makes you sad: I had rather have

a fool to make me merry than experience to make me

sad; and to travel for it too!

And your experience has made you sad. I would rather have

a clown make me happy than experience make me

sad – and to have to travel for it!

Enter ORLANDO

ORLANDO

Good day and happiness, dear Rosalind!

Good day and happiness to you, dear Rosalind!

JAQUES

Nay, then, God be wi' you, an you talk in blank verse.

No, then, Goodbye if you are going to talk in metered poems.

Exit

ROSALIND

Farewell, Monsieur Traveller: look you lisp and

wear strange suits, disable all the benefits of your

own country, be out of love with your nativity and

almost chide God for making you that countenance you

are, or I will scarce think you have swam in a

gondola. Why, how now, Orlando! where have you been

all this while? You a lover! An you serve me such

another trick, never come in my sight more.

Goodbye Monsieur Traveller. Keep your accents and

wear foreign clothing, and get rid of all of the rights of your

own country. Fall out of love with your native land and

almost rebuke God for giving you the skin color and character that you

have, or I will not really think that you rode in a

Venetian gondola. Hello, Orlando! Where have you been

all this time? You call yourself a lover! If you treat me

with another trick like this, then do not come here again.

ORLANDO

My fair Rosalind, I come within an hour of my promise.

My beautiful Rosalind, I have come within an hour of when I promised.

ROSALIND

Break an hour's promise in love! He that will

divide a minute into a thousand parts and break but

a part of the thousandth part of a minute in the

affairs of love, it may be said of him that Cupid

hath clapped him o' the shoulder, but I'll warrant

him heart-whole.

You would break a promise with your love by an hour! Whoever

divides a minute into different parts and then is late

by one single part of a minute to meet

his love, then I think that Cupid

has made him like the woman, but I doubt