They say miracles are past; and we have our philosophical persons to
make modern and familiar things supernatural and causeless. Hence is it
that we make trifles of terrors, ensconcing ourselves into seeming
knowledge when we should submit ourselves to an unknown fear.
People say miracles don't happen anymore; instead we have philosophers who make supernatural and impossible things seem natural and ordinary. That's why we laugh off scary things and pretend we understand them when we should admit we don't know what's really going on.
Everyone says miracles stopped happening a long time ago. Now we've got these smart people who make the impossible seem totally normal and explainable. So now we just laugh off things that should terrify us and act like we get it when we have no idea what's actually going on.
miracles r gone now we got philosophers explaining everything away we fake knowing stuff when we should just b scared
Why, ’tis the rarest argument of wonder that hath shot out in our
latter times.
Well, it's the most remarkable example of wonder that has come out in our recent times.
This is literally the most amazing thing we've seen in years.
this is the craziest thing that's happened in forever
And so ’tis.
And so it is.
That's exactly right.
yep
To be relinquish’d of the artists,—
To be rejected by the learned doctors—
To be written off by the experts—
the doctors gave up on him—
So I say; both of Galen and Paracelsus.
That's what I say; both the classical doctors and the modern ones.
Exactly; all the authorities, both old and new.
yep, all of them
Of all the learned and authentic fellows,—
All of the scholarly and reputable physicians—
Every respected doctor—
every expert said so—
Right; so I say.
Right, that's exactly what I'm saying.
Exactly.
right
That gave him out incurable,—
Who declared him incurable—
Who all said he was hopeless—
said he couldn't be saved—
Why, there ’tis; so say I too.
Well, there it is; that's what I'm saying too.
Exactly, that's my point.
yep, same
Not to be helped.
Beyond help.
There was nothing anyone could do.
couldn't be fixed
Right; as ’twere a man assur’d of a—
Exactly; as if a man were certain of—
Exactly; like a guy who was sure of—
like a guy who knew—
Uncertain life and sure death.
Life that's uncertain, death that's sure.
Life's unpredictable, but death is guaranteed.
life risky / death certain
Just; you say well. So would I have said.
Exactly right; you put it well. That's what I would have said.
Perfect. You nailed it. That's exactly what I was thinking.
nailed it
I may truly say, it is a novelty to the world.
I can honestly say it's something completely new to the world.
I mean, this has literally never happened before.
this is brand new
It is indeed; if you will have it in showing, you shall read it in what
do you call there?
It absolutely is; if you want to see proof of it, you'll find it in... what's it called?
Totally. If you need evidence, you can read about it in... what's that thing?
yeah if u want proof it's there
A showing of a heavenly effect in an earthly actor.
The visible proof of heaven's power working through an ordinary person.
Divine power acting through a regular human being.
god working through one of us
That’s it; I would have said the very same.
That's exactly it; I would have said the exact same thing.
Yes, that's it exactly. That's what I was going to say.
yep, that's it
Why, your dolphin is not lustier; fore me, I speak in respect—
Why, the King is not more vigorous; I speak respectfully—
I mean, the King has never been more energetic; I'm speaking seriously—
king's so lively / not exaggerating
Nay, ’tis strange, ’tis very strange; that is the brief and the tedious
of it; and he’s of a most facinerious spirit that will not acknowledge
it to be the—
No, it's strange, it's absolutely strange; that's the long and short of it; and whoever won't recognize it for what it is must be thoroughly wicked—
No, it's weird, super weird; that's the whole thing right there; and anyone who won't admit what's happening must be completely corrupt—
yeah it's wild really wild and only a totally bad person would deny it's—
Very hand of heaven.
God's own work.
God acting directly.
god's work
Ay, so I say.
Yes, that's what I'm saying.
Exactly.
yeah
In a most weak—
Through the most feeble—
Through someone so weak—
through someone weak—
And debile minister, great power, great transcendence, which should
indeed give us a further use to be made than alone the recov’ry of the
king, as to be—
And feeble servant, showing great power and extraordinary ability, which should give us reason to use it for more than just healing the king—it should be—
And this weak minister shows incredible power and goes beyond the ordinary, which means we should use it for more than just saving the king—it should be—
and this weak person has incredible power we should use it for more than just the king—
The scene's central action — a woman publicly choosing from a lineup of eligible bachelors — seems to grant Helena extraordinary power. In one sense it does: the King has promised her any man she wants. But the scene actually demonstrates how hemmed in that power is. She still cannot simply demand Bertram — she must approach each lord with a courtly 'will you hear my suit?' She's given formal permission for an extraordinary act, but must perform it with complete feminine deference. When Bertram refuses, the King must step in and exercise the power behind her power. The real structure of authority is never in doubt. Helena's agency is real but borrowed — licensed by the King, revocable if he chooses. What the scene makes clear is that even this exceptional woman, even with a king's backing, cannot compel desire. She can have the hand. She cannot have the heart. That gap — between legal ownership and genuine love — is what the play then spends three acts exploring.
Generally thankful.
Generally thankful.
generally thankful.
Generally thankful.
I would have said it; you say well. Here comes the king.
I would have said that myself; you put it perfectly. Here comes the king.
That's what I was going to say. You said it great. Here comes the king.
i was gonna say that the king's coming
Lustique, as the Dutchman says. I’ll like a maid the better, whilst I
have a tooth in my head. Why, he’s able to lead her a coranto.
Lively, as the Dutch would say. I'd take a girl for my wife while I still have teeth in my head. Why, he's well enough to dance with her.
Full of energy, like those Dutch folks say. I'd marry a girl while I've still got teeth! The guy can actually dance with her.
full of life like the dutch say i'd marry while i can still chew he can dance with her
_Mor du vinager!_ is not this Helen?
My God! Isn't this Helen?
Wow! Is that Helen?
omg is that helen?
Fore God, I think so.
I swear I think so.
Yeah, I think it is.
i think so
Go, call before me all the lords in court.
Go, summon all the noble lords in the court to come before me.
Go get all the noble guys from court to come here.
get all the lords
Sit, my preserver, by thy patient’s side,
And with this healthful hand, whose banish’d sense
Thou has repeal’d, a second time receive
The confirmation of my promis’d gift,
Which but attends thy naming.
Sit by me, my savior, at my side, And with this hand, now healthy—whose senses You have restored—receive once again The confirmation of my promised gift, Which only awaits your choosing.
Sit with me, you who saved me. This hand is now healthy thanks to you— the feeling you brought back to it. Now I'm giving you the reward I promised, whichever one you want to choose.
sit w me my hand is healthy again thanks 2 u i'm giving u what i promised pick what u want
Fair maid, send forth thine eye. This youthful parcel
Of noble bachelors stand at my bestowing,
O’er whom both sovereign power and father’s voice
I have to use. Thy frank election make;
Thou hast power to choose, and they none to forsake.
Beautiful lady, look around. These young noble bachelors stand at my disposal— I have both sovereign power and a father's voice over them. Make your choice freely; You have the power to choose, and they can't refuse.
My dear, look at all these young noble men. They're mine to give away. I have absolute power over them— both as a king and as if I were their father. So choose whoever you want. You have all the power here, and they have to accept your choice.
look at these guys theyre urs 2 pick i control them u pick & they gotta say yes
To each of you one fair and virtuous mistress
Fall, when love please! Marry, to each but one!
May each of you find one beautiful and virtuous woman to love When love decides! But mind you, just one each!
I hope each of you finds one good woman to love Whenever love strikes! And stick with just one!
may u all find one good woman each, just one
I’d give bay curtal and his furniture
My mouth no more were broken than these boys’,
And writ as little beard.
I'd give up my best horse and all its trappings If my face weren't more weathered than these young men's, And if I had as little facial hair.
I'd trade my best horse If my face looked as fresh as theirs, And if I had as little beard.
i'd give up my horse if my face was young and i had no beard
Peruse them well.
Not one of those but had a noble father.
She addresses her to a Lord.
Look them over carefully. Every single one of them had a noble father. She approaches one of the Lords.
Check them out. They're all from noble families. She goes up to one of them.
look at them all nobles she picks one
Gentlemen,
Heaven hath through me restor’d the king to health.
Gentlemen, God has used me to heal the king.
Gentlemen, I was able to make the king healthy again.
guys i healed the king with god's help
We understand it, and thank heaven for you.
We all grasp what you have accomplished, and we express our gratitude to heaven for you.
We know that, and we're grateful for you.
we know thanks for saving him
I am a simple maid, and therein wealthiest
That I protest I simply am a maid.
Please it, your majesty, I have done already.
The blushes in my cheeks thus whisper me:
“We blush that thou shouldst choose; but, be refused,
Let the white death sit on thy cheek for ever,
We’ll ne’er come there again.”
I am an ordinary young woman, and my greatest claim to wealth is that I am simply and purely a young woman. If it pleases your majesty, I have already done my part. The natural blush in my cheeks speaks to me: "We blush because you must make a choice; but if you are refused, Let paleness live on your face forever, We will never return to it again."
I'm just a simple girl, and the only thing I'm proud of is that I'm just an honest young woman. Sire, I've already done what I came to do. The color in my face is telling me: "We're blushing because you have to pick someone; but if a girl turns you down, You'll stay pale forever, And we'll never come back to your face."
i'm just a girl that's all i am i did my job my blush is saying: if she says no you'll be pale forever i won't come back
Make choice; and, see,
Who shuns thy love shuns all his love in me.
Make your choice; and listen, Whoever rejects your love rejects all my affection too.
Go ahead and pick someone; and understand this: Whoever turns you down is also turning down my favor.
choose whoever says no to u says no to me too
Now, Dian, from thy altar do I fly,
And to imperial Love, that god most high,
Do my sighs stream. [_To first Lord._] Sir, will you hear my suit?
Now I leave behind Diana's altar, And my sighs rush toward imperial Love, that highest god. [To the first Lord] Sir, will you listen to my request?
I'm giving up on being single now, And all my heart is turning toward Love itself. [To the first Lord] Sir, will you consider me?
i'm done with being single i want love now sir will u have me?
And grant it.
And grant it.
and grant it.
And grant it.
Thanks, sir; all the rest is mute.
Thank you, sir; I have nothing else to say.
Thank you; I'm done talking.
thanks that's it
I had rather be in this choice than throw ames-ace for my life.
I'd rather be choosing a wife like this than gambling for my life itself.
I'd take picking a wife over rolling dice for my survival.
i'd rather do this than bet my life
[_To second Lord._] The honour, sir, that flames in your fair eyes,
Before I speak, too threat’ningly replies.
Love make your fortunes twenty times above
Her that so wishes, and her humble love!
The honour, sir, that shines so brightly in your fair eyes answers me so powerfully before I even speak. May love make your fortune twenty times greater than hers who wishes it and humbly loves you!
Sir, the goodness I see in your eyes is so bright, it answers me before I even speak. I wish love brings you fortune twenty times better than mine, though I humbly love you.
your honor shines bright you answer before i speak wish you luck
No better, if you please.
No better wishes than that, if it pleases you.
I couldn't ask for better.
couldn't ask for more
Modern readers usually find Bertram contemptible in this scene — his naked class snobbery ('A poor physician's daughter my wife!') and his stubborn refusal to accept what looks like an extraordinary gift feel like the reactions of a spoiled child. But the Elizabethan audience may have had more sympathy. A count was expected to marry within his rank — not because he was personally vicious, but because the entire system of property, inheritance, and social order depended on controlled marriage. Bertram's mother had presumably been planning his marriage to some noble house's daughter. The King's intervention is, from one angle, a massive exercise of royal overreach — forcing a ward to marry against his will as a reward to a dependent. Bertram's resistance is partly pride, yes. But it's also partly the reasonable objection of someone whose most basic life decision has just been made for him. The play never quite resolves this. Watch for how the text keeps giving Bertram moments of quasi-justification even as it condemns his behavior.
My wish receive,
Which great Love grant; and so I take my leave.
Accept my blessing, Which I trust great Love will grant; and now I leave.
Take my blessing, Which I hope works out for you; I'll go now.
my blessing to u hope it works i'm leaving
Do all they deny her? An they were sons of mine I’d have them whipp’d;
or I would send them to th’ Turk to make eunuchs of.
Do they all refuse her? If they were my sons I'd have them beaten; or I'd send them to the Turkish sultan to be castrated.
They all said no to her? If those were my kids I'd whip them, or send them to Turkey to get castrated.
they all said no? i'd beat them or send them to get castrated
[_To third Lord._] Be not afraid that I your hand should take;
I’ll never do you wrong for your own sake.
Blessing upon your vows, and in your bed
Find fairer fortune, if you ever wed!
Don't be afraid that I would take your hand; I will never do you wrong for your own sake. Blessings upon your vows, and in your bed may you find better fortune, if you ever marry!
Don't worry, I won't take your hand. I'd never do you wrong. I bless whatever vows you make, and hope you find true happiness in marriage when you do.
dont worry ill be kind bless your future marriage hope you find happiness
These boys are boys of ice, they’ll none have her. Sure, they are
bastards to the English; the French ne’er got ’em.
These young men are cold as ice, they won't have anything to do with her. They must be bastards and not true Englishmen; the French never fathered them.
These guys are total ice cubes, none of them want her. They can't be real Englishmen; the French wouldn't have produced them.
these guys r ice don't want her they're not real english
[_To fourth Lord._] You are too young, too happy, and too good,
To make yourself a son out of my blood.
You are too young, too happy, and too good to lower yourself by making yourself a son of my blood through marriage to me.
You're too young, too good, too happy to marry me. I don't want to drag you down.
youre too good for me too young too happy
Fair one, I think not so.
Beautiful lady, I don't agree.
I don't think that's right.
i don't think so
There’s one grape yet. I am sure thy father drank wine. But if thou
beest not an ass, I am a youth of fourteen; I have known thee already.
There's still one man here. I'm sure your father drank wine. But if you're not a complete fool, then I'm a fourteen-year-old boy; I already know who you are.
At least there's one good guy here. Your father probably drank, that's for sure. But unless you're an idiot, I'm a kid, and I already know all about you.
there's one decent guy your dad drank wine but if ur not stupid i'm 14 i know what u r
[_To Bertram._] I dare not say I take you, but I give
Me and my service, ever whilst I live,
Into your guiding power. This is the man.
I dare not say you are taking me as your wife, but I give myself and my service, for all my life, into your guiding power. This is the man I choose.
I won't claim you're marrying me, but I give myself and everything I am to you, for the rest of my life. You're the one I choose.
i give myself to you my service my life youre the one
Why, then, young Bertram, take her; she’s thy wife.
Well then, young Bertram, take her; she is your wife.
Well, Bertram, she's yours now. She's your wife.
bertram she's ur wife
My wife, my liege! I shall beseech your highness,
In such a business give me leave to use
The help of mine own eyes.
My wife, my king! I must ask your majesty In a matter like this to let me use My own judgment.
My wife, your majesty? I need to ask you To let me make my own choice In something this important.
my wife? please let me choose for myself
Know’st thou not, Bertram,
What she has done for me?
Don't you know, Bertram, What she has done for me?
Don't you realize, Bertram, What she's done for me?
don't u know what she did for me?
Yes, my good lord,
But never hope to know why I should marry her.
Yes, my lord, But don't expect me ever to understand why I should marry her.
I know that, sir, But I don't see why that means I have to marry her.
i know that but that doesn't mean i have to marry her
Thou know’st she has rais’d me from my sickly bed.
You know she has raised me from my sickbed.
You know she got me out of bed and healthy again.
she healed u
But follows it, my lord, to bring me down
Must answer for your raising? I know her well;
She had her breeding at my father’s charge:
A poor physician’s daughter my wife! Disdain
Rather corrupt me ever!
But does it follow that bringing me down must be payment for your rising? I know her well. She was educated at my father's expense: a poor physician's daughter, my wife! I would rather suffer disdain and corruption forever!
But just because I'm going down doesn't mean I have to pay for you going up. I know her well—my father paid for her education. A poor physician's daughter as my wife? I'd rather be disgraced and corrupted forever!
but he had to go up / so i go down? / no / poor doctor's daughter / never
’Tis only title thou disdain’st in her, the which
I can build up. Strange is it that our bloods,
Of colour, weight, and heat, pour’d all together,
Would quite confound distinction, yet stands off
In differences so mighty. If she be
All that is virtuous, save what thou dislik’st,
A poor physician’s daughter,—thou dislik’st—
Of virtue for the name. But do not so.
From lowest place when virtuous things proceed,
The place is dignified by the doer’s deed.
Where great additions swell’s, and virtue none,
It is a dropsied honour. Good alone
Is good without a name; vileness is so:
The property by what it is should go,
Not by the title. She is young, wise, fair;
In these to nature she’s immediate heir;
And these breed honour: that is honour’s scorn
Which challenges itself as honour’s born,
And is not like the sire. Honours thrive
When rather from our acts we them derive
Than our fore-goers. The mere word’s a slave,
Debauch’d on every tomb, on every grave
A lying trophy, and as oft is dumb
Where dust and damn’d oblivion is the tomb
Of honour’d bones indeed. What should be said?
If thou canst like this creature as a maid,
I can create the rest. Virtue and she
Is her own dower; honour and wealth from me.
You're only rejecting her because of her rank, which I can elevate. It's strange that our blood, In color and weight and heat, poured all together, Would lose all distinction, yet we stand apart In such vast differences. If she is Completely virtuous except for what you dislike— A poor doctor's daughter—you dislike her Only for her low birth, not for lack of virtue. But don't do this. When virtuous deeds come from the lowest position, That position is honored by what the person does. Where great titles swell with pride and there's no virtue, It's a swollen, false honor. Good alone Is good without a name; wickedness too: The worth of something should come from what it is, Not its title. She is young, wise, and beautiful; In these things she's nature's direct heir; And these create honor: it's shameful honor That claims to be born into honor But isn't like its ancestors. Honors thrive When they come from our own deeds rather than Our ancestors' deeds. The bare word is a slave, Debased on every tomb, on every grave A false monument, and often silent Where dust and cursed oblivion is the tomb Of once-honored bones. What more can be said? If you can accept this girl as a wife, I can give you the rest. Virtue and she herself Are her own dowry; honor and wealth from me.
You're only upset about her low rank, which I can fix. It's weird that blood, When you mix it, loses all difference between people, Yet we act like rank matters so much. If she's Completely good except for the one thing you hate— Being poor—then you hate her only for poverty, not for any fault. But listen: when good people come from nothing, They raise up their position through their actions. But people with titles and no goodness? That's false honor, puffed up and empty. Real goodness Stands on its own; same with evil: You should judge people by what they actually are, Not their family name. She's young, smart, and beautiful; Nature made her perfect in these ways; And these things create real honor. False honor Is the kind that brags about being born into it When it's nothing like the people before it. Real honor Comes from what we actually do, not what our ancestors did. Words and titles get thrown around everywhere, On every tombstone, every grave, Lying monuments. They're often meaningless Where dead bones lie forgotten. I'm done talking. If you can love this girl as a wife, I'll handle the rest. She has virtue and herself as her dowry; I'll provide the honor and the wealth.
u only hate her rank i can fix that blood is blood but we pretend rank matters if she's good except for being poor then u just hate poverty good comes from what u do not ur name she's young smart beautiful that makes real honor fake honor brags about birth real honor comes from actions titles mean nothing if u want her as ur wife i'll handle the rest she's enough on her own
I cannot love her, nor will strive to do ’t.
I cannot love her, and I will not try to.
I can't love her, and I'm not even going to try.
i can't love her and i won't try
Thou wrong’st thyself, if thou shouldst strive to choose.
You harm yourself if you think you have a choice.
You're hurting yourself if you think you get to decide.
ur hurting urself if u think u have a choice
That you are well restor’d, my lord, I am glad.
Let the rest go.
I am glad that you are restored to health, my lord. Let everything else go.
I'm happy you're well, your majesty. That's all that matters.
glad ur healthy that's enough
My honour’s at the stake, which to defeat,
I must produce my power. Here, take her hand,
Proud scornful boy, unworthy this good gift,
That dost in vile misprision shackle up
My love and her desert; that canst not dream
We, poising us in her defective scale,
Shall weigh thee to the beam; that wilt not know
It is in us to plant thine honour where
We please to have it grow. Check thy contempt;
Obey our will, which travails in thy good;
Believe not thy disdain, but presently
Do thine own fortunes that obedient right
Which both thy duty owes and our power claims;
Or I will throw thee from my care for ever
Into the staggers and the careless lapse
Of youth and ignorance; both my revenge and hate
Loosing upon thee in the name of justice,
Without all terms of pity. Speak! Thine answer!
My honor is at stake, and to defend it, I must exercise my power. Take her hand, Proud, scornful boy, unworthy of this gift, You who cruelly lock up My affection and her merit; you cannot imagine That we, weighing you on her defective scale, Will tip the balance against you; you will not understand That we have the power to place your honor where We wish it to grow. Control your scorn; Obey my will, which works for your benefit; Don't trust your disgust, but instead Give your own fortune the obedient respect That both your duty and my power demand; Or I will cast you out forever Into recklessness and the thoughtless waste Of youth and ignorance; I will unleash Both my revenge and hatred upon you in the name of justice, Without any mercy. Speak! What is your answer!
My reputation is on the line, and I have to use my power to defend it. Take her hand, You arrogant, contemptuous kid, you don't deserve this gift, You who've cruelly bound up My feelings and what she deserves; you can't even imagine That we would weigh your worth against hers and find you wanting; You refuse to see That I have the power to make or break your reputation. Stop your sneering; Do what I say, which is for your own good; Don't believe in your own disgust, instead Show your life the respect That both your loyalty to me and my authority demand; Or I'll throw you out forever Into chaos and the wasteful foolishness Of youth and stupidity; I will turn Both my revenge and anger against you, calling it justice, With absolutely no mercy. Answer me!
my honor's on the line take her hand u ungrateful kid u don't deserve her u can't imagine we'll weigh u and find u lacking i have the power stop ur sneering obey me do ur duty or i'll throw u out into chaos and punish u with no mercy answer me now
Pardon, my gracious lord; for I submit
My fancy to your eyes. When I consider
What great creation, and what dole of honour
Flies where you bid it, I find that she, which late
Was in my nobler thoughts most base, is now
The praised of the king; who, so ennobled,
Is as ’twere born so.
Forgive me, my gracious lord; I submit My preference to your judgment. When I consider What great power and what bestowment of honor Goes where you direct it, I find that she, who until recently Was in my mind the most lowborn, is now Praised by the king; and being thus elevated, Appears as though she were born to nobility.
Forgive me, your majesty; I'm giving in To your judgment. When I think about How much power you have and how much honor You can give to whoever you want, I see that she, who I thought Was beneath me until now, is now Praised by you; and since you've raised her up, She seems like she was born to this station.
forgive me sir i submit to u when i see how much power u have and how u can give honor to anyone u want i see that she—who i thought was below me— is now praised by u and is as good as nobility
Take her by the hand,
And tell her she is thine; to whom I promise
A counterpoise; if not to thy estate,
A balance more replete.
Take her hand, And tell her she is yours; to whom I promise A counterbalance; if not equal to your rank, Then a more generous one.
Hold her hand, And tell her she belongs to you; I'm also promising A matching dowry; maybe not equal to your rank, But actually more generous.
take her hand tell her she's urs i'm giving u a good dowry
I take her hand.
I will clasp her hand and accept this union.
I'll take her hand.
okay i'm doing this
Good fortune and the favour of the king
Smile upon this contract; whose ceremony
Shall seem expedient on the now-born brief,
And be perform’d tonight. The solemn feast
Shall more attend upon the coming space,
Expecting absent friends. As thou lov’st her,
Thy love’s to me religious; else, does err.
Good fortune and the king's favor Smile on this contract; the wedding ceremony Will happen right away, and Will be performed tonight. The grand celebration Will come later, Waiting for absent friends to arrive. If you value her, Your love for her is a sacred duty to me; otherwise, you fail.
May luck and my favor Bless this marriage agreement; the ceremony Will happen right now, and Will be done tonight. The big feast Comes later, Waiting for the guests who aren't here yet. If you care for her, Your love for her is a religious duty to me; if not, you've failed.
good fortune and my favor bless this the ceremony is tonight the feast comes later if u love her that love is sacred to me
The Lafew-Parolles exchange in the second half of 2-3 looks like low comedy after the high drama of the marriage scene. But it does serious work. Lafew is the play's most reliable reader of character — he immediately sees through Bertram's recantation as hollow, and he sees through Parolles as nothing but costume. The Parolles sub-scene establishes that Bertram will receive bad counsel from a worse counselor, and it gives the audience a measuring stick: if Lafew can see both Bertram's inadequacy and Parolles's fraud from the outside, the play is asking us to do the same. The comic idiom also prepares us for the Parolles plot in Acts 3 and 4 — when his empty bravado will finally catch up with him in a trap of his own making. Shakespeare uses Lafew's dismissals here as a promise: we will watch this man be proved right.
Do you hear, monsieur? A word with you.
Listen here, sir. May I have a word with you?
Hey, can I talk to you for a second?
hey can we talk
Your pleasure, sir.
Your pleasure, sir.
your pleasure, sir.
Your pleasure, sir.
Your lord and master did well to make his recantation.
Your lord and master did well to take back what he said.
Your boss did the right thing and changed his mind.
ur boss did right changed his mind
Recantation! My lord! My master!
Recantation? You're talking about my lord and master doing that?
Recantation? My lord? You mean my master?
what? / recantation? / seriously?
Ay. Is it not a language I speak?
Yes. Is it not a language I'm speaking?
Yes. Isn't that a real thing I just said?
yeah why wouldn't i know that word
A most harsh one, and not to be understood without bloody succeeding.
My master!
A very harsh language that cannot be understood without bloodshed. My master!
That's a brutal word that takes violence to understand. My boss!
that's a harsh word takes violence to get it my boss
Are you companion to the Count Rossillon?
Are you a companion to Count Rossillon?
Are you Count Rossillon's companion?
r u the count's companion?
To any count; to all counts; to what is man.
To any count; to all counts; to whatever is human.
To any count, every count, to any man.
to any count all counts any man
To what is count’s man: count’s master is of another style.
To being a count's servant: being a count's master is something else entirely.
Yeah, a count's hired help. But a count's master? That's a different thing.
as a count's servant but a count's master thats different
You are too old, sir; let it satisfy you, you are too old.
You are too old, sir; that should satisfy you, you are too old.
You're too old, man. Face it, you're too old.
ur too old just accept it tur too old
I must tell thee, sirrah, I write man; to which title age cannot bring
thee.
I must tell you, fellow, I count myself a man; and age will not raise you to that title.
Let me tell you something: I'm a real man, and age won't make you one.
i'm a man age won't make u one
What I dare too well do, I dare not do.
What I would willingly dare, I do not dare.
I'm too good at something I shouldn't be good at.
i do what i shouldn't so i can't do it
I did think thee, for two ordinaries, to be a pretty wise fellow; thou
didst make tolerable vent of thy travel; it might pass. Yet the scarfs
and the bannerets about thee did manifoldly dissuade me from believing
thee a vessel of too great a burden. I have now found thee; when I lose
thee again I care not. Yet art thou good for nothing but taking up, and
that thou art scarce worth.
I thought, at a couple of gatherings, that you were pretty wise; you talked reasonably about your travels; it seemed okay. But all the scarves and ribbons you wore persuaded me strongly that you were not a person of great importance. I have found you out now; when I lose sight of you again I don't care. Yet you are good for nothing except being picked up, and you're barely worth even that.
I thought at first that you were pretty smart; you talked okay about your travels; I could believe it. But all those fancy scarves and ribbons made it clear you were a nobody trying to look important. Now I know what you really are; I don't care if I ever see you again. You're only good for one thing, and you're not even worth that.
thought u were smart based ur travel talk but ur fancy clothes showed u were a fake i know what u r now don't care if i see u again ur worth nothing
Hadst thou not the privilege of antiquity upon thee—
If you did not have the privilege of age protecting you—
If you weren't so old so you could get away with it—
if ur age didn't protect u—
Do not plunge thyself too far in anger, lest thou hasten thy trial;
which if—Lord have mercy on thee for a hen! So, my good window of
lattice, fare thee well; thy casement I need not open, for I look
through thee. Give me thy hand.
Don't dive too deep into anger, or you'll hasten your punishment; if that happens—Lord help you, you're like a chicken! So, my transparent friend, I bid you farewell; I don't need to open your window because I can see right through you. Give me your hand.
Don't get so angry or you'll get punished; and trust me, God won't help you—you're just a chicken! So goodbye, my see-through friend; I can read you like a book. Shake my hand.
don't get mad or you'll get punished yur a chicken transparent i can see right through u shake my hand
My lord, you give me most egregious indignity.
My lord, you are being very insulting to me.
You're being super insulting to me.
ur being cruel to me
Ay, with all my heart; and thou art worthy of it.
Yes, with all my heart; and you deserve it.
Yes, absolutely; and you deserve it.
yeah u deserve it
I have not, my lord, deserv’d it.
I have not, my lord, deserved it.
I don't deserve that.
i didn't deserve it
Yes, good faith, every dram of it; and I will not bate thee a scruple.
Yes, indeed, every bit of it; and I won't take back even a tiny part of it.
Yes, every single bit; and I'm not taking any of it back.
yeah all of it and i'm not taking any back
Well, I shall be wiser.
Well, I'll be smarter from now on.
Yeah, I'll learn from this.
ill be smarter next time
Ev’n as soon as thou canst, for thou hast to pull at a smack o’ th’
contrary. If ever thou beest bound in thy scarf and beaten, thou shalt
find what it is to be proud of thy bondage. I have a desire to hold my
acquaintance with thee, or rather my knowledge, that I may say in the
default, “He is a man I know.”
As soon as you can, because you have a tendency toward the opposite of good judgment. When you eventually get caught and beaten, you'll discover what it means to take pride in your captivity. I want to keep some familiarity with you—or rather, enough knowledge to say I know of you—so that if asked, I can say, 'He's a man I know.'
Do it as soon as you can, because you're always drawn to doing the exact opposite of the smart thing. When you get beaten—and you will—you'll find out what it's like to be proud while you're enslaved. I want to stay acquainted with you, or at least know enough about you to say I know who you are, so I can drop your name if it comes up.
do it now youre always backwards when u get beaten ull see i just want to know u exist
My lord, you do me most insupportable vexation.
My lord, you're causing me unbearable distress.
You're driving me absolutely crazy, sir.
ure killing me here
I would it were hell-pains for thy sake, and my poor doing eternal; for
doing I am past, as I will by thee, in what motion age will give me
leave.
I wish the pain I'm inflicting on you were unbearable and eternal. Because I'm past the age of action myself, I can only speak harshly about you—as much as age permits me to do.
I wish I could hurt you more with what I'm saying. Since I'm too old to actually fight you, all I can do is insult you as much as my age allows.
wish i hurt u more im too old to actually beat u so this is all ive got
Notice how the scene shifts between verse and prose along precise class lines. The opening Lafew-Parolles-Bertram exchange is prose — three men of no particular gravity chatting. When the King enters with Helena, the mode shifts to verse: royal ceremony demands it. The husband-choice sequence is verse because Helena is operating at the height of her power and dignity. When the king compels Bertram, his speeches build in formal verse to the crescendo of 'Speak! Thine answer!' After the principals exit, Lafew and Parolles fall back into prose — they are the world of contingency and comedy, not of ceremony. Bertram and Parolles at the scene's end plan their escape in verse that's colloquial enough to feel like prose, signaling that they think they're making a grand decision while actually making a small, sad one. The verse/prose register is one of Shakespeare's most reliable instruments for telling you how seriously to take a moment.
Well, thou hast a son shall take this disgrace off me; scurvy, old,
filthy, scurvy lord! Well, I must be patient; there is no fettering of
authority. I’ll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him with any
convenience, an he were double and double a lord. I’ll have no more
pity of his age than I would have of—I’ll beat him, and if I could but
meet him again.
Well, your son will someday take revenge on you for this, you filthy old scoundrel! I must be patient; there's no stopping authority. I'll beat him, by my life, if I can meet him at any opportunity, even if he were twice the lord. I'll have no pity for his age that I wouldn't have for anyone else. I'll beat him if I can just meet him again!
Your son will eventually get revenge on you for this, you disgusting old man! I have to be patient; you can't fight power. I'll beat him, I swear, if I get the chance, even if he's doubly a lord. I won't take special pity on his age—not any more than anyone's. I'll beat him if I can just manage to see him again!
your son will get you back / old jerk / can't fight authority / i'll beat him / if i ever see him again
Sirrah, your lord and master’s married; there’s news for you; you have
a new mistress.
Hey, your lord and master is married—that's news for you; you have a new mistress now.
Listen, your boss just got married. Big news for you—you've got a new lady in the house now.
ur boss got married u got a new mistress now
I most unfeignedly beseech your lordship to make some reservation of
your wrongs. He is my good lord; whom I serve above is my master.
I genuinely beg you to moderate your hostility toward him. He's my good lord, and God, whom I serve above all, is my master.
Please, I'm asking seriously—ease up on him. He's my lord, and God is my master above him.
please stop hes my lord god is above everything
Who? God?
Who? God?
who? god?
Who? God?
Ay, sir.
Yes, sir.
Yeah, that's right.
yep
The devil it is that’s thy master. Why dost thou garter up thy arms o’
this fashion? Dost make hose of thy sleeves? Do other servants so? Thou
wert best set thy lower part where thy nose stands. By mine honour, if
I were but two hours younger, I’d beat thee. Methink’st thou art a
general offence, and every man should beat thee. I think thou wast
created for men to breathe themselves upon thee.
The devil is your true master. Why do you have your arms gartered up like that? Have you turned your sleeves into stockings? Do other servants dress this way? You'd be better off standing on your head. By my honor, if I were just two hours younger, I'd beat you bloody. I think you're an offense to everyone, and every man should beat you. I believe you were created just to be a target for men's frustrations.
The devil owns you, that's for sure. Why are your sleeves tied up like that? Did you turn them into pants or something? What servant dresses like this? You should walk on your hands instead of your feet. If I were just a little younger, I'd kick your ass right now. You're an insult to everyone, and frankly, everyone should beat you up. You were born to be a punching bag.
devils ur master why ur arms like that u look ridiculous if i was younger id beat u everyone should
This is hard and undeserved measure, my lord.
This treatment is harsh and undeserved, my lord.
That's rough, sir. I don't deserve this.
thats harsh i dont deserve this
Go to, sir; you were beaten in Italy for picking a kernel out of a
pomegranate; you are a vagabond, and no true traveller. You are more
saucy with lords and honourable personages than the commission of your
birth and virtue gives you heraldry. You are not worth another word,
else I’d call you knave. I leave you.
Listen, you were beaten in Italy for something as trivial as picking a pomegranate seed. You're a vagrant, not a real traveler. You're too bold with lords and important people for someone of your birth and virtue. You're not even worth another word—if you were, I'd call you a knave. I'm done with you.
Look, you got your ass beaten in Italy over nothing—literally a pomegranate seed. You're just a drifter, not a real traveler. You act way too confident around important people for someone of your social standing. You're not even worth another insult. I'm leaving.
u got beat in italy for nothing ure just a drifter u act too confident for ur rank iot worth it im out
Good, very good, it is so then. Good, very good; let it be conceal’d
awhile.
Good, very good, so that's how it is then. Good, very good—let's keep it quiet for a while.
Okay, fine. So that's the situation. Okay, let's just keep this quiet for now.
ok good. thats it then keep it quiet for now
Undone, and forfeited to cares for ever!
I'm ruined, and cursed with worries forever!
I'm destroyed. I'm doomed to worry forever!
im ruined im gonna worry forever
What’s the matter, sweetheart?
What's wrong, my friend?
What's going on? What's the matter?
whats up
Although before the solemn priest I have sworn,
I will not bed her.
Even though I swore before the priest, I will not sleep with her.
Even though I said my vows in front of the priest, I'm not going to sleep with her.
i swore to the priest but im not sleeping w her
What, what, sweetheart?
What, what, sweetheart?
what, what, sweetheart?
What, what, sweetheart?
O my Parolles, they have married me!
I’ll to the Tuscan wars, and never bed her.
Oh Parolles, they've married me off! I'm going to the wars in Tuscany and will never sleep with her.
Oh Parolles, they married me off! I'm going to Tuscany to fight in the wars—I'm not touching her.
they married me off! im going to tuscany wars im not sleeping w her
France is a dog-hole, and it no more merits
The tread of a man’s foot: to the wars!
France is a worthless place that doesn't deserve the footstep of a real man—to the wars!
France is a shithole that's not worth a decent man's time— let's go to war!
france sucks not worth it lets go to war
There’s letters from my mother; what th’ import is
I know not yet.
There are letters from my mother; I don't yet know what they say.
I got letters from my mom; I haven't read them yet to see what she wants.
letters from mom haven't read em yet
Ay, that would be known. To th’ wars, my boy, to th’ wars!
He wears his honour in a box unseen
That hugs his kicky-wicky here at home,
Spending his manly marrow in her arms,
Which should sustain the bound and high curvet
Of Mars’s fiery steed. To other regions!
France is a stable; we that dwell in’t, jades,
Therefore, to th’ war!
Yes, that must be made known. To war, my boy, to war! A man's honor gets locked away when he stays home hugging his wife, wasting his strength on her, when that strength should sustain the leaps of Mars's war-horse. To other lands! France is a stable; we who live here are worn-out nags. So let's go to war!
Yeah, everyone needs to know. Let's go to war, man! A guy's honor just wastes away when he's home cuddling with his wife, burning through his strength with her, when he should be using that for fighting. Let's get out of France! France is a barn and we're just tired horses. So let's go to war already!
go to war a mans honor dies at home with his wife wasting strength should be fighting france sucks lets go
It shall be so; I’ll send her to my house,
Acquaint my mother with my hate to her,
And wherefore I am fled; write to the king
That which I durst not speak. His present gift
Shall furnish me to those Italian fields
Where noble fellows strike. War is no strife
To the dark house and the detested wife.
I'll do it; I'll send her to my house and tell my mother I hate her and why I've fled. I'll write to the king what I couldn't say aloud. His gift will let me go to those Italian fields where real soldiers fight. War is far better than being in a dark house with that detested wife.
That's what I'll do. I'll send her to my house and tell my mother I hate her and that I'm running away. I'll write to the king things I can't say to his face. I'll use his money to get to Italy where real fighting happens. War is way better than being stuck in a house with a wife I hate.
sending her home / telling mom hate her / using his money / going to war / anything but that wife
Will this caprichio hold in thee, art sure?
Will you stick with this sudden impulse? Are you sure?
You really going to go through with this crazy plan? You sure about it?
ure serious about this? for real?
Go with me to my chamber and advise me.
I’ll send her straight away. Tomorrow
I’ll to the wars, she to her single sorrow.
Come to my room and give me advice. I'll send her away immediately. Tomorrow I'll go to war, and she'll be left to grieve alone.
Come to my room and help me plan this. I'll send her packing right away. Tomorrow I'm leaving for war, and she's on her own to deal with it.
help me plan im sending her away tomorrow im going to war shes alone in her sadness
Why, these balls bound; there’s noise in it. ’Tis hard:
A young man married is a man that’s marr’d.
Therefore away, and leave her bravely; go.
The king has done you wrong; but hush ’tis so.
Look, things are energized now, there's momentum. It's tough, but here it is: a young man who's married is a man who's ruined. So get out and leave her boldly—go. The king has wronged you, but let's not dwell on it.
Look, things are moving now, there's excitement. It's hard, but the truth is: a young married guy is a wrecked guy. So just get out and leave her like a man—go. The king screwed you over, but whatever, that's how it is.
things r moving its hard tho a married young guy is ruined so leave her king wronged u but whatever
The Reckoning
Helena wins everything she wanted and loses it at the same moment. The King gives her his word, his lords, his power — and the one man she actually wants rejects her in front of everyone. Bertram's refusal is brutal in its nakedness: 'A poor physician's daughter my wife!' The King overpowers him into compliance, but compliance is not consent, and the scene ends with Bertram already plotting his escape. The audience is left with the queasy sense that what just happened is not a happy ending — not for anyone.
If this happened today…
Imagine a company's CEO publicly announces that an exceptional contract employee — who just saved the company from collapse — can choose any full-time role she wants, salary negotiated on the spot. She picks VP of Marketing. The Marketing director's son, who was groomed for the role, says on the record: 'She's just a contractor. I'm not working with her.' The CEO overrules him in front of the whole company, HR forces through the org chart change, and the director's son immediately starts texting his recruiter. The paperwork is signed. Nobody is happy.