Was there ever man had such luck! When I kiss’d the jack, upon an
upcast to be hit away! I had a hundred pound on’t; and then a whoreson
jackanapes must take me up for swearing, as if I borrowed mine oaths of
him, and might not spend them at my pleasure.
Did any man ever have worse luck! When I aimed at the target bowl, and it got knocked away! I had a hundred pounds bet on it; then some arrogant fool had to correct me for swearing, as if I borrowed my oaths from him and couldn't spend them however I wanted.
Why does nothing ever go right for me! I hit the jack, and it gets knocked away! I had a hundred pounds riding on that; and then some jerk comes along and yells at me for swearing, like I need his permission to curse.
worst luck ever hit the target it flew away lost hundred pounds some guy yells at me for swearing like i need his permission
What got he by that? You have broke his pate with your bowl.
What did he gain from that? You've smashed his head with your bowl.
What did he get out of it? You cracked his skull with your bowl.
what he gain u smashed his head
[_Aside._] If his wit had been like him that broke it, it would have
run all out.
If his intelligence had been as damaged as that man's head, it would have all poured out.
If his brain had gotten hit like that guy, all his intelligence would've leaked out.
if his brain got hit all his wit would leak out
When a gentleman is dispos’d to swear, it is not for any standers-by to
curtail his oaths. Ha?
When a gentleman wants to swear, it's not the job of any bystanders to cut short his oaths. Right?
When a gentleman feels like swearing, nobody standing around should stop him. Got it?
man's gotta swear can't stop him right?
No, my lord; [_Aside._] nor crop the ears of them.
No, my lord; [and neither should we cut off their ears].
No, my lord; [and we shouldn't damage them either].
nah [or hurt em]
Whoreson dog! I gave him satisfaction. Would he had been one of my
rank!
Trash! I beat him badly. I wish he'd been my equal!
You deserve that! I gave him a real fight. I wish he was someone important!
got what he deserved i really beat him wish he was my rank
[_Aside._] To have smell’d like a fool.
Only to smell like a fool.
Just so he could smell like a fool.
to stink like a fool
I am not vex’d more at anything in th’ earth. A pox on’t! I had rather
not be so noble as I am; they dare not fight with me, because of the
Queen my mother. Every jackslave hath his bellyful of fighting, and I
must go up and down like a cock that nobody can match.
I'm more upset about this than anything else in the world. I hate it! I'd rather not be as noble as I am; they don't dare fight me because of the Queen, my mother. Every servant gets his fill of fighting, but I have to walk around like a rooster that nobody can challenge.
Nothing in the world bothers me more than this. Curse it! I wish I wasn't so high-born; people won't fight me because my mother is the Queen. Every low-ranking guy gets to have fights, but I have to go around like an untouchable champion.
hate this more than anything wish i wasn't so noble people won't fight me cuz my mom's queen every peasant gets to fight but not me
[_Aside._] You are cock and capon too; and you crow, cock, with your
comb on.
You're both a rooster and a capon, yet you crow like a rooster.
You're a rooster and a castrated rooster at the same time, but you still strut around crowing.
u r a rooster and a capon but u still crow
Sayest thou?
What?
what?
what?
It is not fit your lordship should undertake every companion that you
give offence to.
It's not appropriate for your lordship to fight every person you quarrel with.
You shouldn't fight with everyone who offends you, my lord.
u can't fight every guy u offend
No, I know that; but it is fit I should commit offence to my inferiors.
No, I understand that; but it is appropriate for me to offend my inferiors.
Yeah, I know that; but I have the right to be rude to people below me.
i know but i can insult people below me
Ay, it is fit for your lordship only.
Yes, it's fitting for your lordship alone.
Right, only you get to do that, sir.
right only u
Why, so I say.
Exactly, that's what I'm saying.
Exactly, that's my point.
yeah exactly
The scene seems like pure comedy — Cloten's bowls rage, the lords' two-register mockery, the farcical logic of 'you cannot lower yourself.' But the Second Lord's soliloquy at the end suddenly opens into something else. 'Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur'st, / Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern'd, / A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer / More hateful than the foul expulsion is / Of thy dear husband' — it's a full reckoning of Imogen's situation, spoken by someone who can do nothing about it. His prayer that 'the heavens hold firm the walls of thy dear honour' is genuine. And it lands with terrible irony: those walls are about to be violated. Shakespeare uses the comedy of the Cloten scenes to lower the audience's guard, then hits them with something completely real.
Did you hear of a stranger that’s come to court tonight?
Have you heard that a stranger has arrived at court this evening?
Did you hear? Some stranger just showed up at court tonight.
hear about the stranger at court tonite?
A stranger, and I not known on’t?
A stranger, and nobody told me about it?
A stranger, and I wasn't informed?
stranger? no one told me??
[_Aside._] He’s a strange fellow himself, and knows it not.
He's an odd fellow himself, and doesn't even know it.
He's a weird guy, and he doesn't even realize it.
he's weird and doesn't even know it
There’s an Italian come, and, ’tis thought, one of Leonatus’ friends.
An Italian has come, and people think he's one of Leonatus's friends.
An Italian guy showed up, and everyone thinks he's a friend of Leonatus.
italian guy here thinks he knows leonatus
Leonatus? A banish’d rascal; and he’s another, whatsoever he be. Who
told you of this stranger?
Leonatus? A banished criminal; and this stranger is equally bad, whoever he is. Who told you about this stranger?
Leonatus? That exiled crook; and this stranger is the same, no matter who he is. Who told you about him?
leonatus? banished trash this guy too who told u?
One of your lordship’s pages.
One of your lordship's servants.
One of your servants, my lord.
one of your guys
Is it fit I went to look upon him? Is there no derogation in’t?
Should I go look at him? Would that lower my dignity?
Should I go check him out? Would that hurt my reputation?
should i go would i lose face?
You cannot derogate, my lord.
You cannot lower yourself, my lord.
You can't damage your standing, sir.
u can't lose face
Not easily, I think.
That would be difficult for you to do.
Not without real effort, I'd say.
not easy
[_Aside._] You are a fool granted; therefore your issues, being
foolish, do not derogate.
You're admitted to be a fool, so your foolish actions can't degrade you further.
You're already accepted as a fool, so your foolish actions can't make you any lower.
u r a fool so ur foolish actions can't degrade u
Come, I’ll go see this Italian. What I have lost today at bowls I’ll
win tonight of him. Come, go.
Come, I'll go see this Italian. Whatever I lost today at bowls I'll win tonight from him. Come on, let's go.
Come on, I'm going to see this Italian guy. Whatever I lost on bowls today I'll win back from him tonight. Let's go.
let's go see him will win back my money tonight
I’ll attend your lordship.
I'll follow you, my lord.
I'll come with you, sir.
i'll follow u
That such a crafty devil as is his mother
Should yield the world this ass! A woman that
Bears all down with her brain; and this her son
Cannot take two from twenty, for his heart,
And leave eighteen. Alas, poor princess,
Thou divine Imogen, what thou endur’st,
Betwixt a father by thy step-dame govern’d,
A mother hourly coining plots, a wooer
More hateful than the foul expulsion is
Of thy dear husband, than that horrid act
Of the divorce he’d make! The heavens hold firm
The walls of thy dear honour, keep unshak’d
That temple, thy fair mind, that thou mayst stand
T’ enjoy thy banish’d lord and this great land!
It's astounding that such a clever, cunning person should be his mother, and yet she produces this fool! A woman who dominates everything with her intelligence; yet her son can't even do simple math—for his emotional weakness, he can't calculate what twenty minus two is, leaving eighteen. Poor princess, divine Imogen, what you endure: caught between a father who's controlled by your stepmother, a mother constantly scheming against you, a suitor more hateful than your husband's banishment, more hateful than the divorce he would inflict on you! May the heavens protect your honor, keep unshaken that sacred temple—your noble mind—so you can enjoy your banished husband and rule this great kingdom!
How can someone so brilliant as his mother have an idiot for a son? She's got all the brains, but he can't even do basic arithmetic. Poor Imogen gets the worst of it—stuck between her dad who lets her stepmother control him, her manipulative mother constantly plotting, and this guy who's worse than her husband being sent away. I hope heaven protects her honor and her brilliant mind so she can be with her real husband and inherit this throne.
his mom's brilliant but he's an idiot who can't do math imogen's trapped between her dad, evil stepmom & this awful guy hope heaven protects her honor & her smart mind she deserves her husband & the kingdom back
The Reckoning
A palate-cleanser between two intense scenes that also shows us the court's daily texture: Cloten causing minor chaos, his lords managing him, nothing being accomplished. The Second Lord's closing soliloquy punctures the comedy with genuine tenderness — for all the broad jokes at Cloten's expense, he ends the scene wishing Imogen well and calling her 'divine.' The contrast is affecting.
If this happened today…
The boss's son is back from a company golf outing, furious he played badly. He's cursing at the office manager, demanding to know why someone is allowed to swear at him while he swears at everyone. He hears there's a visiting Italian consultant — a friend of the guy he just got fired — and decides to go size him up. His staffers are rolling their eyes. When he's gone, the one sensible assistant looks at the photo of the boss's daughter on the wall and thinks: 'God, what she must be going through.'