Shakespeare on ice

This morning a book arrived from Amazon. On the left hand page, strangled gibberish, allegedly written by the godfather of English, the bard, el Shakespeare;  on the right hand side, modern English.

Tonight, I shall attend an audition for this play (Twelfth Night). My face may well tell my grief, as they say and my sanity to audition questioned. In this case, the play isn't the thing, it's the craic and for that reason alone I hope to get a part.