Fic: This Thing of Ours Act III translations
This post contains all of the foreign language lines (French, Spanish and Italian) in Act III of This Thing of Ours, translated to English.
The first is the French dialogue between Eames & Mal. The scene has been abridged here. To read it in its entirety in French, please see Act III.
Many thanks to deepsix & Anais for amazing English to French translation assistance, and to chibi_lurrel for looking over my dubious English to Spanish translations.
*"Mal." Arthur starts towards where she's standing by the stage, relief pumping like euphoria through his veins. "Mal, you're--here."
"Arthur, yes, we flew back in last week--" She stops, and cocks her head to one side. "But of course you knew that, yes? You have spoken to Dom."
"It's so good to see you," Arthur says, embracing her a bit more tightly than usual. "Are you staying for the game?"
"Yes, I could use a night away from..." she seems to catch sight of something over his shoulder and trails off. He twists around to look and of course, it's Eames. "Monsieur Eames."
"Madam, it has been too long." He steps forward to take Mal's hand, lifting it to his lips.
"Indeed it has," she says, lowering her eyes. "Have you missed me?"
"Terribly," Eames replies. "But perhaps not as much as I should. I have been dreaming of you."
"You are very forward." The words sound like a rebuke, but there's a hint of a smile nevertheless. "What a thing to say."
"Oh but you see, the dreams are as cruel as my reality," he says. "You come like a beautiful ghost, only to break my heart and disappear again."
"To break a heart, I'd first have to be convinced that you have one," Mal murmurs, lifting her chin. "And what would a man such as yourself need a heart for?"
"To be injured by women such as yourself, of course." Eames bows, as if contrite, but the expression on his face is far too knowing for that.
"Dom," Arthur says, loudly. "Hey."
"Arthur, Eames--" Dom pastes a smile on his face as he approaches and kisses her. "Honey, what a surprise."
Act III, Part 2b:
The conversation eventually comes to an end when Dom gets up to hit the head, leaving Mal to inquire, "How do you decide who plays during these games?"
"Arthur, Dom and I are the regulars," Eames explains. "Our fourth is in a weekly rotation: Yusuf, Cho, Al, and Juana."
"I see, Monsieur Eames," Mal replies, lowering her eyes, lashes a dark sweep across her pale skin. "A way to keep the games… interesting."
"Indeed." Eames leans forward with his hands on top of the table, fingertips grazing its surface. "Perhaps you could join the rotation as well? Take Juana's place?"
The corners of Mal's elegant mouth twitch as she switches to French. "You do realize I will be sitting next to my husband during these games?"
"Madam, you could have me bound, beaten, and gagged." Eames' mouth is as lewd as it ever is, wrapped around smooth vowels. "As long as I could look on your face it would be worth it."
Mal smiles. "You are the most scandalous Englishman I have ever met."
"And you the most ruthless Frenchwoman."
"What's everyone talking about?" Dom asks as he slides into the booth. "Trading secrets?"
"Your wife was revealing to me a plot to assassinate the president and thus fulfill a French directive to throw into chaos the government of the United States," Eames says. "Absolutely shocking, I must say."
"Who in the what now?" Ariadne interjects as she deposits a round of drinks.
"Nothing," Arthur says. "Just Mr. Eames thinking he's funnier than he is."
The first is the French dialogue between Eames & Mal. The scene has been abridged here. To read it in its entirety in French, please see Act III.
Many thanks to deepsix & Anais for amazing English to French translation assistance, and to chibi_lurrel for looking over my dubious English to Spanish translations.
*"Mal." Arthur starts towards where she's standing by the stage, relief pumping like euphoria through his veins. "Mal, you're--here."
"Arthur, yes, we flew back in last week--" She stops, and cocks her head to one side. "But of course you knew that, yes? You have spoken to Dom."
"It's so good to see you," Arthur says, embracing her a bit more tightly than usual. "Are you staying for the game?"
"Yes, I could use a night away from..." she seems to catch sight of something over his shoulder and trails off. He twists around to look and of course, it's Eames. "Monsieur Eames."
"Madam, it has been too long." He steps forward to take Mal's hand, lifting it to his lips.
"Indeed it has," she says, lowering her eyes. "Have you missed me?"
"Terribly," Eames replies. "But perhaps not as much as I should. I have been dreaming of you."
"You are very forward." The words sound like a rebuke, but there's a hint of a smile nevertheless. "What a thing to say."
"Oh but you see, the dreams are as cruel as my reality," he says. "You come like a beautiful ghost, only to break my heart and disappear again."
"To break a heart, I'd first have to be convinced that you have one," Mal murmurs, lifting her chin. "And what would a man such as yourself need a heart for?"
"To be injured by women such as yourself, of course." Eames bows, as if contrite, but the expression on his face is far too knowing for that.
"Dom," Arthur says, loudly. "Hey."
"Arthur, Eames--" Dom pastes a smile on his face as he approaches and kisses her. "Honey, what a surprise."
Act III, Part 2b:
The conversation eventually comes to an end when Dom gets up to hit the head, leaving Mal to inquire, "How do you decide who plays during these games?"
"Arthur, Dom and I are the regulars," Eames explains. "Our fourth is in a weekly rotation: Yusuf, Cho, Al, and Juana."
"I see, Monsieur Eames," Mal replies, lowering her eyes, lashes a dark sweep across her pale skin. "A way to keep the games… interesting."
"Indeed." Eames leans forward with his hands on top of the table, fingertips grazing its surface. "Perhaps you could join the rotation as well? Take Juana's place?"
The corners of Mal's elegant mouth twitch as she switches to French. "You do realize I will be sitting next to my husband during these games?"
"Madam, you could have me bound, beaten, and gagged." Eames' mouth is as lewd as it ever is, wrapped around smooth vowels. "As long as I could look on your face it would be worth it."
Mal smiles. "You are the most scandalous Englishman I have ever met."
"And you the most ruthless Frenchwoman."
"What's everyone talking about?" Dom asks as he slides into the booth. "Trading secrets?"
"Your wife was revealing to me a plot to assassinate the president and thus fulfill a French directive to throw into chaos the government of the United States," Eames says. "Absolutely shocking, I must say."
"Who in the what now?" Ariadne interjects as she deposits a round of drinks.
"Nothing," Arthur says. "Just Mr. Eames thinking he's funnier than he is."