Thursday, February 13, 2014

Throwback Thursday: My Diary: The One With The Shakespeare

August 12. Location: Sitting Room. Mood: Clever.

Welcome to my translation of Twelfth Night.

Act One, Scene One. A Room In The Duke's Palace.

Duke: This music's fucking deadly. It gets better the more I hear it.
Curio: Are you coming on the pull?
Duke: Sure I'm trying to pull Olivia, she's a ride.
Valentine: She's in mourning after her brother died. The maid said she's going to wear a veil for 7 years.
Duke: All that for her brother? Jaysus. What a woman. I love her even more now. I'm going away by myself to think about her. Wink, wink.

Scene Two: The Sea Coast.

Viola: What country is this?
Captain: Illyria.
Viola: Why am I here? My brother is in Elysium. Maybe he wasn't drowned - do you think he survived?
Captain: Dunno. You're lucky you lived.
Viola: My poor brother. Maybe he'll be lucky too.
Captain: Maybe - I saw him hanging on to a small mast and sailing off into the distance after the ship crashed.
Viola: Here's some gold, fair play for telling me. Do you know this country well?
Captain: Yeah, I was born 3 hours from here.
Viola: Who rules it?
Captain: A Duke, Orsino. Haven't seen him in about a month, he was chasing Olivia.
Viola: Who's she?
Captain: Daughter of a dead Count. She hates men since her brother died.
Viola: Do you think I'd get a job as her servant? It'd give me a chance to find my feet.
Captain: Eh, no. She doesn't like strangers.
Viola: I've an idea. I'll pretend to be a fella and I can sing for the Duke. Help me hide and I'll pay you.
Captain: Grand, we'll pretend you're a Eunuch so.
Viola: Good man yourself.


This "translating" went on for another 36 pages. THIRTY SIX. I won't inflict that on any of you. Poor oul Willy Shakespeare would be spinning if he read it. I don't think the word 'gobshite' featured highly in any of his plays, to my knowledge anyway.

I clearly had no social life.

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