You're not well. Stay here in the cave; we'll come back to you after we're done hunting.

You don't look good. Just stay here in the cave - we'll come back after we hunt.

ur not feeling well stay in cave we'll be back

Stay here, brother. Aren't we brothers?

Stay here with us, brother. We're brothers, aren't we?

stay here bro aren't we brothers

That's what men and men should be like—brothers. But people are different from each other in worth, even though we all end up as dust eventually. I'm very ill.

That's how brothers should be. But we're all just different people, really, all the same dust in the end. I'm really sick.

thats what brothers should be. all dust in the end tho. im really sick

You two go hunting; I'm going to stay here with him.

You guys go hunt. I'll stay with him.

you go hunt ill stay

I'm not so sick that I'm about to die; I'm just not well. But I'm not going to play the city lady and act like I'm dying when I'm only ill. Please leave me alone. Keep to your normal routine. Breaking a habit is like breaking everything. I'm ill, but having you here won't help me heal. Company doesn't comfort someone who doesn't want company. I'm not severely ill, since I can still think straight. Please trust me here. I won't hurt anyone but myself, and I'm prepared to waste away quietly.

Look, I'm not that sick, I'm just not feeling well. I'm not going to play some city girl and act like I'm dying. Seriously, just leave me alone. Keep doing what you normally do. Breaking routine breaks everything. I'm sick, but you staying won't make me better. Being around people doesn't help me when I don't want company. I'm not that bad anyway—I can still think. Trust me. I won't hurt anyone but myself, and I'll just fade away quietly.

im sick but not dying. just leave me alone. youre not helping. let me waste away

I love you; I've already told you that. How deep my love runs—as deep as my love for my own father.

I love you. I've said it already. I love you as much as I love my own father.

i love you. like i love my father

What? how? how?

what? how? how?

what? how? how?...

If it's a sin to say that, sir, then I harness myself to my good brother's fault. I can't explain why I love this young man, and I've heard you say love's reasons have no reason in them. If a coffin stood at the door and someone asked who had to die, I'd answer, 'Take my father, not this boy.'

If that's wrong, sir, then I'm just as guilty as my brother. I honestly don't know why I love this kid, but you've always said love doesn't need a reason. If there were a coffin waiting outside and someone asked who should go in it, I'd say 'My dad, not him.'

same as my bro tbh idk why i love this kid love doesnt need a reason if someone had to die id pick dad over him

Oh noble birth! Oh worthiness of character! Natural greatness! Cowards father cowards and base things breed base offspring. Nature has both quality and worthlessness in it. I'm not their father, yet whoever this youth should be is miraculous - already loved before I knew him. It's nine in the morning.

Man, what noble blood! What worth of character! What natural greatness! You know, cowards breed cowards and worthless people breed worthless kids. Life has both quality and garbage. I'm not his father, but whoever this kid is supposed to be is just miraculous - already loved before I even met him. It's nine o'clock.

noble blood worthy character cowards breed cowards but this kid is miraculous already loved it's 9am

Brother, farewell.

brother, farewell.

brother, farewell....

I hope you enjoy the hunt.

Hope you have fun hunting.

have fun hunting

Good health to you. Sir, please excuse us.

Stay healthy. We'll get going, sir.

good health sir

These are kind creatures. Gods, what lies I've been told! Our courtiers say everything is savage except at court. But experience proves that wrong! The fierce seas breed monsters, yet gentle rivers bring us sweet fish. I'm still sick - heartbroken really. Pisanio, I'll now drink your potion.

These people are so kind. Man, what lies I've been told! Court people say the whole world is savages outside the palace. But that's totally wrong - look at these people. Wild seas breed monsters, sure, but gentle rivers bring us sweet fish. I'm still sick though - heartbroken. Pisanio, I'm going to take that poison now.

these people are kind i was lied to everything outside court isn't savage the seas have monsters but rivers have fish im still heartbroken time to take the poison

I couldn't move him. He said he was gentle but unlucky; dishonestly treated, yet still honest.

I couldn't get anything out of him. He said he's a good person but had bad luck; treated unfairly but still honest.

couldnt move him. hes gentle but unlucky. honest tho

He answered me like that, but said later I might learn more.

That's what he told me, but he said I could find out more another time.

thats what he said. more later maybe

Off to the field, to the field! We're leaving now. Go inside and rest.

Let's get to the hunt! We're heading out. Go rest.

to the field now. go rest

We won't be gone long.

We'll be back soon.

be back soon

Please don't get worse, because you're our housekeeper.

Hope you don't get sicker—you do all the housework.

dont get worse. youre the housekeeper

Whether I'm well or ill, I'm obligated to you.

Well or sick, I owe you.

bound to you no matter what

And you always will be.

And always will.

always will

This youth, no matter how troubled he seems, shows signs that he has had noble ancestors.

This young man, however distressed he looks, clearly comes from good breeding.

this youth seems distressed but has good ancestors

His singing is absolutely heavenly.

The way he sings is incredible.

voice is heavenly fr

And his excellent cooking! He cuts up our vegetables into fancy shapes and seasons our broths as if Juno were sick and he were her nutritionist.

And the way he cooks! He cuts vegetables into beautiful patterns and makes our soup like he's healing Juno herself.

and his cooking! fancy veg, perfect soup

Beautifully he combines a smile with a sigh, as if the sigh arose from the fact that it wasn't a smile. The smile mocks the sigh, as if it would escape from his beautiful face and mix with the winds that sailors curse.

He smiles and sighs at the same time, like he's sad that his smile isn't sad enough. The smile makes fun of the sigh, like it's running away from his gorgeous face to blow around with the wind.

smiles n sighs at same time. beautiful face caught between both

I notice that sorrow and patience both grow from him together, and they mix their efforts.

I can see he's got grief and patience both working in him at once.

hes got grief n patience both in him

Let patience grow! And may the rotten, stinking grief slowly wither away while patience's roots spread and grow stronger!

Let patience take over! Let grief rot and fall apart while patience grows stronger and stronger!

let patience grow. let grief rot and die

It's getting to be late morning. Come on, let's go! Who's there?

It's getting late in the morning. Let's move! Who's that?

its late morning. who's there?

I can't find those runaways; that villain made fun of me. I'm exhausted.

I can't find those guys who ran away. That guy messed with me. I'm so tired.

cant find the runaways. guy made fun of me. im exhausted

Those runaways? Does he mean us? I recognize him partly; it's Cloten, the Queen's son. I'm worried there might be an ambush. I haven't seen him in many years, but I know it's him. We're being hunted. Let's get out of here!

Runaways? Is he looking for us? I know him—that's Cloten, the Queen's kid. This could be an ambush. I haven't seen him in ages, but it's definitely him. We're outlaws. We have to go!

thats cloten queens son. could be ambush. hes looking for us. we gotta bounce

He's only one man; you and my brother go scout around to see what other soldiers are near. Get going, please; let me deal with him alone.

He's just one guy. You two go check if there's anyone else nearby. Go on; I'll handle him.

just one guy. you check for others. ill take him

Wait! Who are you that run from me like this? Some mountain bandits? I've heard about them. What kind of slave are you?

Hold it! Who the hell are you running from me? Some mountain bandits? I've heard stories. What are you?

who are you running from me? mountain bandits? what are you?

I've never done anything more slavish than answering someone without them asking politely first.

I've never done anything as low as answering someone who didn't even greet me properly.

ive never been lower than answering a rude guy

You're a thief, a criminal, a villain. Give up, thief.

You're a thief. A criminal. A bad guy. Surrender.

youre a thief. give up

Surrender to who? To you? What are you anyway? Don't I have an arm as strong as yours, and a heart as strong? Your words are bigger, sure, but I don't carry my dagger in my mouth. Tell me who you are. Give me a reason why I should back down.

Surrender to you? Who are you anyway? I've got an arm just as big as yours, and a heart just as strong. Your mouth is bigger, that's all. I don't talk my way out of fights. Who are you? Tell me why I should lose.

to you? youre just a guy. im as strong. your mouth is bigger thats all

You filthy villain, don't you recognize me from my clothes?

You lowlife, can't you tell who I am from my outfit?

dont you know me from my clothes?

No, I don't. And I don't know your tailor either, fool—your grandfather, the one who made those clothes that apparently make you who you are.

No. And I don't know your tailor either, you idiot—he's your grandfather. He made those clothes, and that's apparently what makes you important.

no. dont know your tailor. hes your grandpa

You worthless smart-mouth, my tailor didn't make them.

You sarcastic jerk, my tailor didn't make these clothes.

my tailor didnt make them

Then thank the man who gave them to you. You're a fool; I don't want to hit you.

Then thank whoever gave them to you. You're a fool. I don't even want to fight you.

thank whoever gave them to you. youre a fool

You offensive criminal, just hear my name, and you'll be scared.

Listen to my name, you fool, and you'll shake with fear.

hear my name and youll be scared

What's your name?

What's your name?

whats your name

Cloten, you villain.

Cloten. And I'm serious.

cloten

Cloten, you double villain—even if your name were Toad, or Adder, or Spider, it would scare me more than Cloten does.

Cloten, you double fool. A toad, an adder, or a spider would scare me more than your name does.

cloten? a toad would scare me more

To make you even more frightened—no, to confuse you completely—I'll tell you I'm the Queen's son.

And to really get you scared, I'm telling you I'm the Queen's son.

im the queens son. be scared

I'm sorry for that—not because you deserve such a high birth.

I'm sorry about that. Not because you're worth it.

sorry youre the queens son. you dont deserve it

Aren't you scared?

You're not scared?

not scared?

I respect and fear wise people; fools I laugh at, not fear.

I respect and fear smart people. Fools just make me laugh.

i fear the wise. fools just make me laugh

Then die. When I've killed you with my own sword, I'll chase down the others who just ran away, and I'll put your heads on the gates of London. Surrender, you mountain peasant.

Then you'll die. Once I kill you with my own sword, I'll go after the others and put all your heads on the gates of London. Give up, you mountain nobody.

youll die. im putting your heads on london gates. surrender

Is anyone else out there?

Is anyone else around?

anyone else out there?

No one anywhere near here; you definitely made a mistake about who that was.

Nobody's around. You got it wrong—it wasn't who you thought.

nobodys around. you got it wrong

I can't be sure; it's been a long time since I saw him, but time hasn't faded his features. His speech patterns and the way he spoke were just the same as before. I'm certain it was Cloten.

I'm not totally sure. It's been forever since I saw him, but he looked exactly the same. The way he talked, everything—it was definitely him. That was Cloten.

havent seen him in forever but looked same. talked same. was cloten

We left them in this place. I hope my brother's handling him okay. You said he's so violent.

We left them right here. I'm hoping my brother's okay with him. You said he's so fierce.

left them here. hope my brothers ok. hes fierce right?

Since he wasn't fully grown—I mean, not yet a man—he hadn't developed the sense of terror or the ability to be afraid. Often, lack of judgment is what stops people from being afraid.

He wasn't old enough yet—not a real man. So he never learned to be scared. Usually, being stupid keeps you from being afraid.

he wasnt a man yet. didnt know how to be scared. stupid people arent

But, look, your brother.

But look, here comes your brother.

look your brother's here

This Cloten was a fool, an empty head. There was nothing inside. Even Hercules couldn't have knocked out his brains because he didn't have any. But if I hadn't killed him, this fool would have carried my head just like I'm carrying his.

Cloten was a total idiot—an airhead. There was nothing going on up there. Even Hercules couldn't have beaten any sense into him because there was none. If I hadn't killed him, he would've taken my head like I took his.

cloten was nothing. had no brains. id be the one headless if i didnt kill him

What have you done?

What on earth did you do?

what happened

I know exactly what I did: I cut off Cloten's head, the Queen's son, just like he said he was. He called me a traitor and a mountain dweller, and swore that his own hand would capture us, take our heads from where they normally sit, and put them on the gates of London.

I'll tell you exactly: I cut off Cloten's head. The Queen's son, like he kept saying. He called me a traitor, a mountain guy, and said his own hand would take us down and put our heads on London's gates.

i cut off clotens head. queens son. like he kept saying

We're ruined.

We're done for.

were done

Father, what do we have to lose except what he swore to take—our lives? The law won't protect us anyway, so why should we be careful about an arrogant piece of flesh threatening us, acting as both judge and executioner, just because we're afraid of the law? What did you see nearby when you were out?

Dad, what could we lose except what he was going to take anyway—our lives? The law doesn't protect us, so why should we worry about some arrogant guy threatening to kill us just because we're scared of the law? Did you see anyone else out there?

what we gonna lose? hes gonna kill us anyway. law doesnt protect us

We didn't see a single person, and logically he must have had followers. Even if his mind was always changing—going from one bad state to worse, not crazy or completely mad—he wouldn't have come here alone. Although the court might have heard that outlaws like us hunt here and might try to capture us, and he might have claimed he'd do it himself, it's not likely he'd come without backup, either because he couldn't manage it alone or because his men wouldn't have let him. So we have good reason to fear that if we're afraid of this body, there's a worse threat following him.

We didn't see anyone out there, but he's got to have people with him. He's moody and gets worse, but he's not insane. He wouldn't come alone. Maybe the court thinks we're dangerous and he wanted to prove something, but he wouldn't have come without his men—either he couldn't do it or they wouldn't let him. So if this Cloten is scary, what's following him is way worse.

didnt see anyone but he got soldiers. he wouldnt come alone. somethings worse behind him

What will happen will happen as the gods decide it. Anyway, my brother did the right thing.

Whatever happens is what was meant to happen. Either way, my brother did good.

whats meant to happen will. brother did good

I didn't want to hunt today. Fidele's sickness made me stay out longer.

I wasn't planning to hunt today. Fidele being sick made me go out longer.

didnt want to hunt. fideles sickness kept me out

With his own sword—the one he pointed at my throat—I took his head from him. I'll throw it in the stream behind our rock, let the current take it to the sea, and tell the fish he's the Queen's son, Cloten. That's all I care about.

With his own sword, the one he had at my throat, I took his head. I'm going to throw it in the creek behind our rock, let it go to the ocean, and tell the fish he's the Queen's son, Cloten. That's it.

cut off his head with his own sword. throwing it in the creek

I'm afraid this will come back on us. Polydore, I wish you hadn't done it! Though being brave suits you.

I'm afraid this'll come back to bite us. I wish you hadn't done it, though I get it—you're brave.

afraid this comes back on us. wish you hadnt. youre brave tho

I wish I had done it instead, so the revenge was only mine to face! I love you like a brother, but I'm jealous that you got this deed. If revenge could come looking for us with all its power, it would hunt us down.

I wish I'd done it, so I had to deal with all the payback. I love you, brother, but I'm jealous you got to do it. If someone wanted revenge bad enough, they'd find us.

wish i did it. love you but jealous. revenge would find us

Well, it's done. We won't hunt anymore today or look for danger where there's no benefit. Please go back to our rock. You and Fidele play the cooks; I'll stay here until Polydore gets back, then bring him to dinner right away.

Alright, it's done. Let's stop hunting and stop looking for trouble. Go back to the rock. You and Fidele cook. I'll wait for Polydore and bring him to dinner.

its done. lets stop hunting. you cook. ill get polydore

Poor sick Fidele! I'll go gladly to him. I'd let a whole village of Clotens bleed just to give him back his color, and I'd praise myself for the charity.

Poor Fidele, so sick! I'll go to him. I'd drain a whole village of Clotens just to get his color back, and I'd feel great about it.

poor sick fidele. id kill a village of clotens to help him

Divine Nature, you goddess, you show yourself perfectly in these two princely boys! They're as gentle as soft breezes blowing under violets without bending their sweet petals, and yet as rough as the wildest wind that grabs a mountain pine by its top and bends it down to the valley. It's amazing that some invisible instinct shaped them into royalty without teaching them, honor without lessons, civilization without learning from others—their strength grows wild in them but still produces a harvest as if it were planted there. Yet it's still strange what Cloten being here means for us, or what his death will bring us.

Nature, you're a goddess showing yourself in these two perfect boys. They're as gentle as soft wind beneath violets, never bending them, but also as fierce as the roughest wind that breaks mountain pines. Somehow they act like royalty with no training, have honor nobody taught them, and fight like they were born soldiers. But what does Cloten being here mean? What happens now that he's dead?

these boys are gentle like soft wind but fierce like storms. royalty by instinct. what does clotens death mean for us?

Where's my brother? I've sent Cloten's thick head down the stream like an ambassador to his mother; his body is a hostage for his return.

Where's my brother? I sent Cloten's stupid head down the stream to his mom like a message. His body stays here as insurance.

sent clotens head downriver to his mom. bodys the hostage

My skillful tool! Listen, Polydore—it sounds like music. But what's made Cadwal play it now? Listen!

My beautiful instrument! Polydore, listen—that's music. Why is Cadwal playing it now? Listen!

thats music. why is cadwal playing it?

Is he inside the cave?

Did he go home?

hes in yet?

He just left.

He just went out.

he stepped out

What does he mean? Since our dear mother died, this instrument hasn't made a sound. All serious things should match serious events. What's going on? Celebrating nothing and mourning trifles is just foolishness for apes and childish grief. Has Cadwal lost his mind?

What's he doing? This thing hasn't played since our mom died. Big things need big reactions. What's happening? Playing happy over nothing and crying over nothing is just stupid and immature. Is Cadwal crazy?

havent heard this since mom died. whats it mean? is cadwal crazy?

Look, here he comes, carrying the very thing we're upset with him for!

Look, there he is, and he's carrying the very thing he should be blamed for!

theres cadwal with the problem

The bird is dead—the one we cherished so much. I'd rather have jumped from age sixteen straight to sixty, turned my youth into old age, than see this.

The bird we loved is dead. I'd rather have skipped all my youth and become old than see this.

the bird we loved is dead. id rather be old

Sweet beautiful lily! My brother doesn't wear you as well now as you did when you were alive.

Beautiful Fidele! You looked better on yourself than you do now.

sweetest lily. you looked better alive

Sorrow, who could ever understand your depths? Who could find the bottom of your sadness to show what safe harbor your sluggish ship might easily reach? Blessed creature! Jupiter knows what kind of person you could have become; but you died, a remarkably gentle boy, from sorrow. How did you find him?

Sorrow—nobody knows how deep you go. Who could find the bottom of what you can do? Beautiful person, nobody knows who you could've become. But you died, such a sweet boy, just from being sad. How did you find him?

sorrow is so deep. couldve been amazing. died from sadness. how'd you find him?

Completely still, just like you see him—smiling as if a little fly had tickled him to sleep, not like death struck him down laughing. His right cheek was resting on a pillow.

Totally still, exactly like that. Smiling like a fly tickled him to sleep, not like death killed him mid-laugh. His right cheek on a pillow.

still n smiling. like sleep not death. cheek on pillow

Where?

where?

where?...

On the floor—his arms like this, folded. I thought he was asleep, so I took off my heavy boots because their roughness was making too much noise when I walked.

On the floor, arms folded like this. I thought he was sleeping so I took off my loud boots so I wouldn't wake him.

on floor arms folded. thought hed sleep. took off loud boots

He's just sleeping. If he's gone, he'll make his grave his bed. Female fairies will haunt his tomb, and worms won't come near him.

He's just sleeping. And if he's really gone, his grave will be soft. Fairies will be around him, and worms won't touch him.

hes sleeping. grave will be soft. fairies will guard him

With the most beautiful flowers, while summer lasts and I'm alive, Fidele, I'll sweeten your sad grave. You won't lack the pale primrose that looks like your face, or the blue hare-bell that looks like your veins, or the eglantine leaf, which—to be honest—never smelled as sweet as your breath. The robin would bring all of this for you with its kind beak (such a good deed that makes those rich heirs who won't even put flowers on their fathers' graves look shameful!) and yes, soft moss too when flowers are gone, to cover and protect your body for winter—

I'll cover your grave with the most beautiful flowers as long as I live, Fidele. You'll have pale primroses like your face, blue flowers like your veins, leaves that smell nothing like your sweet breath. Even robins will help and put flowers on you with their beaks—better than those rich people who won't even do that for their own dads. And moss in winter to keep you covered—

ill put flowers on your grave. primroses, blue ones, leaves. even robins help. better than rich people

Please stop—and don't talk in soft, feminine words about something this serious. Let's bury him and not drag out with flowery language what we have to do right now. To the grave.

Stop. Don't use all that flowery language on something this serious. Let's just bury him. Don't drag this out. Let's go.

stop. just bury him. no flowery words

Tell me, where should we lay him?

Where should we put him?

where we burying him

Next to our mother, Euriphile.

With our mom, Euriphile.

put him by mom

Let it be so. And let's, Polydore, even though our voices have cracked with manhood, sing him into the ground the way we used to for our mother—using the same melody and words, except we'll say Fidele instead of Euriphile.

That works. And let's sing him down like we did for mom, Polydore, even though we have men's voices now. Same song, just with Fidele instead of mom's name.

same song we sang for mom. just say fidele instead

Cadwal, I can't sing. I'll cry and speak the words with you instead, because sad songs sung badly are worse than fake priests and temples.

Cadwal, I can't sing. I'll cry and say the words with you. Bad sad songs are worse than fake priests.

cant sing. ill cry. bad songs worse than fake priests

Then let's recite the words for him together.

Alright, let's say it together.

lets both say it

Great sorrows heal lesser sorrows—Cloten is completely forgotten. He was a queen's son, boys. Even though he came as our enemy, remember he paid the price for that. Though both common and powerful people decay together to the same dust, respect—that thing that makes the world orderly—still makes a difference between high and low places. Our enemy was noble-born, and though you took his life because he was our enemy, still bury him as a prince.

Grief heals grief—nobody's even thinking about Cloten anymore. Look, he was a prince, right? Sure, he attacked us, but he still paid for it. I know everyone ends up the same way in the end, turning to dust, but there's still something called honor that separates the powerful from regular people. Our enemy was royal, so even though you killed him as a soldier would, at least bury him like a prince.

grief heals grief. cloten's already forgotten. he was a prince tho even tho he was our enemy. everyone turns to dust but respect still matters. bury him like royalty

Go ahead and fetch him here. Thersites' body is just as good as Ajax' body when neither one is alive.

Yeah, go get him. I mean, when both guys are dead, it doesn't matter if one was a great warrior and the other was a nobody—they're exactly the same.

go get him. corpse is a corpse. doesn't matter who he was

If you'll go fetch him, we'll sing our song while you're gone. Brother, start.

If you go grab him, we'll sing while you're doing it. Come on, start the song.

go get him. we'll sing while u do

No, Cadwal, we must lay his head toward the East. My father has a reason for it.

Wait, Cadwal—we need his head pointing east. My dad has his reasons.

head has to point east. dad has reasons

That is true.

Yeah, that's right.

true

Alright then, let's go ahead and get him moved.

Come on, let's move him.

ok let's move him

So. Begin. SONG

so. begin. song

so. begin. song

Fear no more the heat of the sun, Nor the furious rage of winter; You have finished your worldly task, Home you have gone, and received your wages. Golden youth and maidens all must, Like chimney-sweepers, turn to dust.

Don't be afraid of the sun anymore, Or winter's anger; Your job is done, You've gone home and gotten paid. Young beautiful people all have to Become dust like workers do.

no more heat or cold you're done working you got paid everyone turns to dust in the end

Fear no more the frown of the great; You are past the tyrant's attack. Care no more to clothe yourself and eat; To you the reed is as good as the oak. The scepter, learning, medicine—all must Follow this and turn to dust.

Don't fear powerful people's anger anymore; You're safe from any ruler's harm. You don't need to worry about food or clothes; To you now, a reed is worth as much as an oak tree. Royalty, education, medicine— It all ends the same way, turning to dust.

powerful people can't hurt u now no more worries about food or clothes nothing's better than anything everything becomes dust

You need not dread the sudden blaze of lightning anymore.

Don't be scared of lightning anymore.

lightning can't scare u

Nor the greatly-feared thunderbolt.

Or thunder either.

thunder can't hurt u

Fear not bad reputation or harsh judgment;

Don't worry about gossip or criticism anymore;

no one can bad-mouth u now

You have finished with joy and sorrow.

You're done with feeling happy or sad.

no more happiness or pain

All young lovers, all lovers must Yield to you and turn to dust.

Everyone in love, young or old, has to Give way to you and become dust.

all lovers gotta turn to dust like u

No curse-remover will harm you!

No spell will hurt you!

no curses can touch u

Nor will any witchcraft harm you!

And no magic will either!

magic can't hurt u

Restless ghost, stay away from you!

No ghosts will bother you!

ghosts gotta leave u alone

Nothing evil will come near you!

Nothing bad will get near you!

nothing bad comes near u

May you have peaceful rest, And be famous in your grave!

May you sleep in peace, And be remembered in your grave!

sleep peacefully be famous forever

We have completed the funeral rites. Come, lay him down.

We've done the funeral service. Come on, put him down.

we're done. lay him down

Here are some flowers; but around midnight, we'll bring more. The plants that have collected cold night dew are the most suitable coverings for graves. Spread them over him. You were like flowers once, but now you're withered. These small plants that we're spreading over you—the earth that first gave them life takes them back. Come on, let's leave. We'll kneel apart. The ground that produced them first has them again. Their pleasures here are finished, and so is their suffering.

Here's some flowers now, but we'll get more around midnight. The plants with night dew on them are what you put on graves—put them all over him. You used to be like fresh flowers, but now you're gone. These little plants we're putting on you come from the same earth that will take you back. Come on, let's go pray by ourselves. The ground gave them birth and now it takes them back. Everything good they had is done, and all their pain is over too.

flowers for now, more at midnight u were beautiful like flowers now u're gone come from earth go back to earth no more pain no more happiness

Yes, sir, to Milford Haven. Which is the way? I thank you. By that bush over there? How much farther is it, please? Goodness! Is it still six miles away? I've been walking all night. Really, I should lie down and sleep. But wait - I'm alone! Oh gods and goddesses!

Yeah, to Milford Haven - which way is it? Thanks. Over by that bush? How much farther, please? Come on, is it still six miles? I've been walking all night. Man, I need to lie down and sleep. But... wait, I'm alone? Oh my gods!

to milford haven which way how far i walked all night i need sleep wait im alone oh gods

These flowers are like the pleasures of the world; this bloody man is the price we pay. I hope I'm dreaming; I thought I was a cave-keeper and cook to honest creatures. But it's not so; it was just nothing, shot at nothing, which the mind makes from fumes. Our very eyes are sometimes, like our judgment, blind. By my faith, I still tremble with fear; but if there's yet left in heaven even a tiny drop of pity, like a wren's eye, feared gods, give me a part of it! The dream is still here. Even when I wake it's outside me as much as within me; not imagined, but felt. A headless man? The garments of Posthumus? I know the shape of his leg; this is his hand, his foot swift-moving, his powerful thigh, the muscles of Hercules; but his noble face—murder in heaven! How! It's gone. Pisanio, all the curses mad Hecuba gave the Greeks, and mine as well, be thrown at you! You, plotted with that lawless devil Cloten, have cut off my lord here. Let writing and reading be henceforth treacherous! Damned Pisanio with his forged letters (damned Pisanio) struck the main mast from the bravest vessel in the world. O Posthumus! alas, where is your head? Where is it? Ah me! where is it? Pisanio might have killed you at the heart and left this head on. How can this be? Pisanio? It's he and Cloten; malice and greed in them have brought this sorrow here. O, it's clear, it's clear! The drug he gave me, which he said was precious and healing to me, haven't I found it murderous to the senses? That confirms it. This is Pisanio's deed, and Cloten's. O! Give color to my pale cheek with your blood, so we seem more horrible to those who chance to find us. O, my lord, my lord!

These flowers represent the world's pleasures; this bloody body is what we pay for them. I think I'm dreaming. I thought I was living in a cave, cooking for good people. But that's not real; it was nothing, a ghost made up by my mind. Our eyes can be as blind as our judgment. I'm still shaking with fear; but if heaven has even a tiny bit of mercy left, gods, give me some! The nightmare is still happening. Even awake, I feel it—it's real, not imagined. A headless man? And wearing Posthumus's clothes? I know his legs, his hand, his foot, his muscular thigh—they're his. But his face—where's his face? It's gone! Murder! Pisanio, I curse you with every curse Hecuba threw at the Greeks! You and that villain Cloten conspired to cut off my husband's head. Writing and reading will never be honest again! Pisanio's forged letters destroyed the strongest man in the world. O Posthumus! Where is your head? Where is it? Pisanio could have killed you anywhere else and left your head, but not this way. It's him and Cloten—greedy and evil. That drug he gave me, the one he said would help me, it was poison! That proves it. Pisanio and Cloten did this. O! I'll cover myself in your blood so whoever finds us will be horrified. O, my lord!

flowers = world's pleasure this bloody body = the price im dreaming i was in a cave cooking but this is real headless man posthumus's clothes but no face murder pisanio & cloten they cut off his head the drug was poison proves it im covered in blood my lord

The military units stationed in Gaul, following your orders, have crossed the sea and are waiting for you here at Milford Haven with your ships. They are ready.

The troops in France did what you wanted—they crossed the ocean and they're waiting for you right here at Milford Haven with all the ships. Everything's ready to go.

troops from france crossed the ocean. waiting here. everything's ready

What news have we received from Rome itself, though?

But what's happening in Rome?

what about rome?

The Senate has called up the landowners and gentlemen of Italy—people who are eager and willing—and they promise great military service. They're coming under the command of the bold Iachimo, Sienna's brother.

The Senate got the wealthy landowners and nobles of Italy to sign up—they're really keen on this—and they've promised to do a great job fighting. They're coming with Iachimo in charge, Sienna's brother.

senate got rich guys from italy to sign up. theyre coming with iachimo

What is your guess about when they will arrive?

When will they get here?

when do they arrive?

As soon as the wind is favorable.

When the wind is right for sailing.

when the wind is good for sailing

This enthusiasm makes our prospects hopeful. Order our current troops to be gathered for inspection and tell the captains to get ready. Now, tell me, what have you recently dreamed about concerning the purpose of this war?

This eagerness is a good sign. Get all our soldiers together for a count and make sure the captains are prepared. Now, I want to know—what have you been dreaming about lately regarding why we're going to war?

good sign. get troops ready. have u been dreaming about why we're fighting?

Last night the gods themselves showed me a vision—I prayed and fasted to understand their message. I saw Jupiter's bird, the Roman eagle, flying from the watery south to this western part of the world, and then it vanished in the sunlight. This means—unless my sins have corrupted my ability to read signs—that the Roman forces will be successful.

Last night, the gods gave me a vision—I fasted and prayed so I'd understand it. I saw the eagle of Jupiter, Rome's symbol, flying from the south to here in the west, and then it disappeared in the sun. That means—if my prayers were heard—that Rome's going to win.

saw the roman eagle flying in a vision. it disappeared in the sun. rome's gonna win

You keep dreaming like that, you'll never be wrong. Wait—what headless body is lying here? The ruin of it shows it was once someone of value. What? A page? Is he dead or sleeping on this corpse? Dead, I'd say—because nature abhors making a bed with the dead or sleeping upon them. Let's see the boy's face.

Keep dreaming like that and you'll never be mistaken. Hold on—what's this? A body without a head? These ruins tell me it was once someone important. That's a page? Is he dead or just lying on top of this corpse? He's dead though—nature won't let you rest with or on the dead. Let me see the boy's face.

your dreams are always right. wait. what headless body? was once someone important. that a page? dead or sleeping on the corpse? dead. nature won't let you sleep with the dead. let me see his face.

The youth still has life in him, my lord.

He's still alive, sir.

he's alive

Then he'll tell us about this body. Young person, tell us about your circumstances—they clearly demand an explanation. Who is this person whose blood you're using as a pillow? Or who was he before something other than his own nature changed him? What interest do you have in this sad ruin? How did this happen? Who is it? What are you?

Then he can explain to us about the body. Listen, kid, tell us your story—it's obvious you have one. Whose blood is on that body you're lying on? Who was he before something destroyed him? What's your connection to all this? How did it happen? Who was he? What's your deal?

who is this? who was he? how did it happen? who r u?

I'm nothing—or if I'm anything, I'd be better off being nothing. This was my master, a very brave and good Briton. He was killed here by mountain robbers. The tragedy is there are no more masters like him. I could wander from east to west, look for work, cry for employment, try many different masters, all good people, serve honestly, and never find another one like him.

I'm nobody—or I'd rather be nobody. This man was my boss, a really brave and decent person from Britain. Mountain bandits killed him here. It's terrible—there's nobody like him anymore. I could travel everywhere, look for work, try different masters, and I'd never find another one as good as him.

i'm nothing. this was my boss. he was a good man. mountain bandits killed him. i'll never find another like him

Oh, poor young person! You move me with your complaint as much as your master moves me by his bleeding. Tell me his name, good friend.

Oh, you poor kid! You're hurting me just as much with what you're saying as I am seeing him bleeding there. Come on, tell me his name.

ur breaking my heart as much as seeing him dead. whats his name?

Richard du Champ. (Aside: If I lie and it causes no harm, even though the gods hear me, I hope they'll forgive it.) Is that good?

Richard du Champ. (To myself: If I'm lying and it doesn't hurt anybody, the gods will probably forgive me.) Does that work?

richard du champ. (and if the gods hear me lie i hope theyre cool with it)

Your name?

What's your name?

whats ur name?

Fidele, sir.

fidele, sir.

fidele, sir....

You prove yourself to be exactly who you are. Your name fits your loyalty perfectly, and your loyalty justifies your name. Will you take your chances with me? I won't promise you'll be treated as well as before, but be certain you'll be just as loved. The Roman Emperor's own letters sent to me through a consul wouldn't come sooner in recommending someone than your own worth would. Come with me.

You're exactly what your name says—faithful. Your name matches who you are, and who you are matches your name. Want to take a chance with me? I can't promise you'll be treated exactly the same, but you'll definitely be just as valued. Even the emperor himself couldn't recommend someone to me faster than your own qualities do. Come on.

ur name matches who u are. take a chance with me. ul be valued. come with me

I'll follow you, sir. But first, if you don't mind, I'll hide my master from the flies as deeply as these poor tools can dig. And when I've covered his grave with wild leaves and weeds and said a hundred prayers over it—twice—I'll weep and sigh. And then, leaving his service, I'll follow you, if you'll have me work for you.

I'll come with you, sir. But first, I need to bury him properly in a deep hole so the flies can't get to him. I'll cover it with branches and weeds and pray over it a bunch of times. Then I'll cry and sit with it for a while. After that, I'll stop being his servant and come work for you, if you want me to.

i'll come but first gotta bury him deep. cover him with leaves. pray over him. cry. then ill follow u

Yes, good youth—and I'd rather be your father than your master. My friends, this young person has taught us what true loyalty looks like. Let's find the prettiest flower-covered spot we can and make him a grave with our spears and halberds. Come, arm him. By you, he's being honored above us, and he'll be buried as soldiers deserve to be buried. Be cheerful now; wipe your eyes. Sometimes a fall is the way to rise higher.

Yes, kid—I'll be more like your father than your boss. Look, this young person has shown us what real devotion means. Let's find a beautiful flowery place to bury him and use our weapons to dig his grave. Come on, help get him ready. You've put him above us by your service, and we'll bury him the way a soldier should be buried. Stop crying now and wipe your eyes. Sometimes getting knocked down is how you end up higher than before.

ill be ur father not boss. this kid taught us loyalty. dig a nice grave. bury him proper. sometimes falling means u rise higher