So I've been reading a lot of Shakespeare lately … not by choice of course. As it so happens, when you're enrolled in ""Shakespearean Drama,"" there is some amount of obligation to do these things. The fact of the matter is this mishmash of vowels, verbs and adjectives that Oxford is calling English is so far removed from the words you and I speak today that I might as well be reading Swahili.
Well, I got to wondering: When did this appalling mishmash of prose and rhymed verse become obsolete for the English? Thank God that it did, but what would things be like today if we all spoke our daily monologues like Hamlet and Ophelia? I figured I'd do a bit of work to show (somewhat) what modern day pop-culture would be like if this were the case.
As a template for translation, I have chosen Lady Gaga's words in her smash-hit ""Telephone."" I chose this particular song mainly because it's such a modern lyrical masterpiece and will no doubt stand the test of time, so why not give it a little Shakespearean infusion? After all, Shakespeare's the king of staying popular for hundreds of years past his due date. Why shouldn't a pop idol who likes to wear dresses made out of meat enjoy the same status?
This probably isn't even proper Shakespearean style (in fact I know it isn't), so I hope any hardcore thespians who might be reading this won't get all medieval on me, just know that I gave it my best.
*Cue the harp (or whatever the hell that instrument that is)*
Lo, lo, my love, methinks ye hailed, yet nay I hear no thing
Mine squire comes not alongst me, in this pub, you see, you see
What, what hath thy voice spoken now? Your words elude me
Tis' a deep regret, mine ears fail me, I hath some duty…
Ha-hath some duty…
Ha-hath some duty…
Tis' a deep regret, mine ears fail me, I hath some duty
One moment, tis' my favorite tune the bard will soon play
I cannot send a letter with such spirits at my hands, eh?
Ye ought have 'ranged some time with me had knownst you I were free
Now you won't halt hailing me, and I hath some duty…
Hook
Think not that I despise thee, I must attend to social ties
Of late I grow so weary; O these letters need my eyes
Oft times it feels as though, I were serving London's King
Yet now I shall forget such things for I'll be frolicking
I'll be frolicking…
Yay, I'll be frolicking…
This night I shan't take one more hail for I'll be frolicking….
*Repeat chorus a million times until done*
Halt hailing, halt hailing, I cannot ponder more!
Mine heart and head lie on the waltzing floor!
Halt hailing, halt hailing, I cannot converse more!
Mine heart and head lie on the waltzing floor!
Eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh
Cease hailing to-oo-meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh
I hath some dut-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay-ay
Cease hailing fo-or-meh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh-eh
Hail-all-ye-want, yet-I'll-not-be-reached
Thy-letter-shan't-reach-me, I-beseech
I-abide-in-this-pub, yay- I-drink-this-bub
Thy-letter-shan't-reach-me, I-beseech.
Think this article was probably one of the dumbest things you've ever seen? After spending far too much time on it, so does Andrew. In fact, he was reluctant to send it in. If you actually liked it, e-mail Andrew at aplahr@wisc.edu, so he can validate that you're indeed literate.
