The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 67
there not the Douglasses also? Had I had letters
from all of them saying they will meet me, armed, by the ninth of the next
month, and haven't some of them set out
already? What an unbelieving rascal this is, an infidel! Ha!
Now we'll see that in the depths of his fear and cold
feet he will go to the king, and reveal all our plans!
Oh, I could split myself in two and beat myself up,
for including such a milksop in our honourable
action! Hang him, let him tell the King, we
are prepared: I will set out tonight.
How are you, Kate? I must leave you within the next two hours.
LADY.
O, my good lord, why are you thus alone?
For what offence have I this fortnight been
A banish'd woman from my Harry's bed?
Tell me, sweet lord, what is't that takes from thee
Thy stomach, pleasure, and thy golden sleep?
Why dost thou bend thine eyes upon the earth,
And start so often when thou sitt'st alone?
Why hast thou lost the fresh blood in thy cheeks;
And given my treasures and my rights of thee
To thick-eyed musing and curst melancholy?
In thy faint slumbers I by thee have watch'd,
And heard thee murmur tales of iron wars;
Speak terms of manage to thy bounding steed;
Cry Courage! to the field!And thou hast talk'd
Of sallies and retires, of trenches, tents,
Of palisadoes, frontiers, parapets,
Of basilisks, of cannon, culverin,
Of prisoners ransomed, and of soldiers slain,
And all the 'currents of a heady fight.
Thy spirit within thee hath been so at war,
And thus hath so bestirr'd thee in thy sleep,
That beads of sweat have stood upon thy brow,
Like bubbles in a late-disturbed stream;
And in thy face strange motions have appear'd,
Such as we see when men restrain their breath
On some great sudden hest. O, what portents are these?
Some heavy business hath my lord in hand,
And I must know it, else he loves me not.
Oh my good Lord, why are you alone like this?
What have I done wrong to be banished from
my Harry's bed for the last fortnight?
Tell me, sweet Lord, what is it that has taken away
your appetite, your happiness and your ability to sleep?
Why are your eyes so downcast,
and why do you twitch so often when you're sitting alone?
Why are your cheeks so sickly and pale,
and why have you given up our marital pleasures
in exchange for ill tempered thinking and cursed melancholy?
I have been watching you in your restless sleep,
hearing you murmur stories of great wars,
talking as if you were riding your galloping horse,
crying “Courage! To battle!" And you have talked
of attacks, retreats, trenches, tents,
stakes, barriers, parapets,
all different sorts of cannon,
of ransoming prisoners, and dead soldiers,
and all the excitement of a great fight.
Your spirit has been so stirred up within you,
and has disturbed your sleep so much
that beads of sweat have appeared on your forehead
like bubbles in a recently disturbed stream,
and strange looks have appeared in your face,
as we see when men hold their breath
on receiving some great order. Oh, what do these signs mean?
My lord has some great affair in hand,
and he must tell me it, or he does not love me.
HOT.
What, ho!
[Enter a Servant.]
Is Gilliams with the packet gone?
Hello there!
Has Gilliams taken the messages?
SERV.
He is, my lord, an hour ago.
He has, my lord, an hour ago.
HOT.
Hath Butler brought those horses from the sheriff?
Has Butler bought those horses from the Sheriff?
SERV.
One horse, my lord, he brought even now.
He brought one horse, my lord, just a minute ago.
HOT.
What horse? a roan, a crop-ear, is it not?
What horse? A roan with notched ears, isn't it?
SERV.
It is, my lord.
It is, my lord.
HOT.
That roan shall be my throne.
Well, I will back him straight:O esperance!--
Bid Butler lead him forth into the park.
That's the one I shall ride.
Well, I will go straight to him: hope!
Tell Butler to take him out into the park.
[Exit Servant.]
LADY.
But hear you, my lord.
Just listen, my lord.
HOT.
What say'st thou, my lady?
What are you saying, my lady?
LADY.
What is it carries you away?
What is it that's taking you away?
HOT.
Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
Why, my horse, my love, my horse.
LADY.
Out, you mad-headed ape!
A weasel hath not such a deal of spleen
As you are toss'd with. In faith,
I'll know your business, Harry, that I will.
I fear my brother Mortimer doth stir
About his title, and hath sent for you
To line his enterprise:but if you go,--
Damn you, you mad headed ape!
A weasel isn't as quarrelsome
as you are. I swear,
I'll know what you're up to, Harry, I will;
I'm afraid my brother Mortimer is
planning to fight for his inheritance, and has sent for you
to back up his efforts: but if you go,–
HOT.
So far a-foot, I shall be weary, love.
So far on foot, I will be tired, love.
LADY.
Come, come, you paraquito, answer me
Directly to this question that I ask:
In faith, I'll break thy little finger, Harry,
An if thou wilt not tell me true.
Come, come, you parakeet, give me
a straight answer to my question:
I swear, I'll break your little finger, Harry,
if you don't tell me the truth.
HOT.
Away,
Away, you trifler! Love? I love thee not,
I care not for thee, Kate:this is no world
To play with mammets and to tilt with lips:
We must have bloody noses and crack'd crowns,
And pass them current too.--Gods me, my horse!--
What say'st thou, Kate? what wouldst thou have with me?
Go,
leave me alone, you lightweight! Love? I don't love you,
I don't care for you, Kate: this is no world
for playing with dolls, and to spend time kissing;
these times demand bloody noses and
broken crowns. God save me! My horse!
What are you saying, Kate? What do you want with me?
LADY.
Do you not love me? do you not indeed?
Well, do not, then; for, since you love me not,
I will not love myself. Do you not love me?
Nay, tell me if you speak in jest or no.
Don't you love me? Do you really not?
Well, then don't; for, since you don't love me,
I won't love myself. Don't you love me?
No, tell me if you're joking or not.
HOT.
&nbs
p; Come, wilt thou see me ride?
And when I am o' horseback, I will swear
I love thee infinitely. But hark you, Kate;
I must not have you henceforth question me
Whither I go, nor reason whereabout:
Whither I must, I must; and, to conclude,
This evening must I leave you, gentle Kate.
I know you wise; but yet no further wise
Than Harry Percy's wife; constant you are;
But yet a woman:and, for secrecy,
No lady closer; for I well believe
Thou wilt not utter what thou dost not know;
And so far will I trust thee, gentle Kate.
Come, will you come and see me right?
When I'm on horseback, I will swear
that I love you infinitely. But listen, Kate;
from now on you must not question me
about where I'm going or what I'm doing:
I must go where I must go; and, in conclusion,
I must leave you this evening, gentle Kate.
I know you are wise; but no wiser
than Harry Percy's wife; you are loyal;
but you're still a woman: for keeping secrets,
there's no lady better; I certainly believe
you can't say what you don't know;
and this is as much as I'll trust you, sweet Kate.
LADY.
How! so far?
What! As much as that?
HOT.
Not an inch further. But hark you, Kate:
Whither I go, thither shall you go too;
To-day will I set forth, to-morrow you.
Will this content you, Kate?
Not an inch more. But listen, Kate:
wherever I go, you will go too;
today I will set out, tomorrow you.
Will this make you happy, Kate?
LADY.
It must of force.
I suppose it'll have to.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Prince Henry.]
PRINCE.
Ned, pr'ythee, come out of that fat room, and lend me thy
hand to laugh a little.
Ned, come out of that stuffy room please, and lend me a
hand in laughing.
[Enter Pointz.]
POINTZ.
Where hast been, Hal?
Where have you been, Hal?
PRINCE.
With three or four loggerheads amongst three or fourscore
hogsheads. I have sounded the very base-string of humility.
Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call
them all by their Christian names, as, Tom, Dick, and Francis.
They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but
Prince of Wales, yet I am the king of courtesy; and tell me flatly
I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff, but a corinthian, a lad of mettle,
a good boy,--by the Lord, so they call me;--and, when I am King
of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They
call drinking deep, dying scarlet; and, when you breathe in your
watering, they hem! and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am
so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with
any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou
hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this action. But,
sweet Ned,--to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth
of sugar, clapp'd even now into my hand by an under-skinker; one that
never spake other English in his life than Eight shillings and sixpence,
and You are welcome; with this shrill addition, Anon, anon, sir! Score
a pint of bastard in the Half-moon,--or so.But, Ned, to drive away
the time till Falstaff come, I pr'ythee, do thou stand in some by-room,
while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar;
and do thou never leave calling Francis! that his tale to me may be
nothing but Anon.Step aside, and I'll show thee a precedent.
With three or four blockheads, amongst three or
four score hogsheads. I have been with the lowest
of the low. Sir, I am now these sworn brother of a
trio of barmen, and can call them all by their
Christian names, Tom, Dick and Francis. They
swear upon their souls that although I'm
only Prince of Wales, I am the king of courtesy,
and they tell me straight that I am no proud fellow like Falstaff,
but a good companion, a feisty lad, a good boy (by God,
that's what they call me!), and when I am king of
England I will command all the good lads of Eastcheap.
They call heavy drinking “dying scarlet", and when
you have to stop your drinking to catch your breath they shout “cough!"
and order you to get on with your business. In conclusion, I have learned so much
in one quarter of an hour that I can now gossip with any gypsy in his own language.
I tell you, Ned, you certainly lost out by not being
with me for this engagement; but, sweet Ned–
to sweeten that name of Ned I'll give you this
pennyworth of sugar, slapped into my hand just now by
an under-barman, someone who never spoke any other English
in his life apart from “Eight shillings and sixpence", and
“You are welcome", with the shrill addition, “in a moment,
sir! Take a pint of Spanish wine to the Halfmoon room",
and so on. But Ned, to pass the time until Falstaff
comes:–I beg you to stand in some side room,
while I question my little barman as to why he
gave me the sugar, and you always keep on calling out
“Francis!" so that all he can say to me is
“In a minute". Step aside, and I'll show you how we'll do it.
[Exit Pointz.]
POINTZ.
[Within.]Francis!
Francis!
PRINCE.
Thou art perfect.
Perfect.
POINTZ.
[Within.]Francis!
Francis!
[Enter Francis.]
FRAN.
Anon, anon, sir.--Look down into the Pomegranate, Ralph.
In a minute, sir. Go and look in the Pomegranate room, Ralph.
PRINCE.
Come hither, Francis.
Come here, Francis.
FRAN.
My lord?
My lord?
PRINCE.
How long hast thou to serve, Francis?
How much of your apprenticeship have you left, Francis?
FRAN.
Forsooth, five years, and as much as to--
I swear, five years, and the same to–
POINTZ.
[within.] Francis!
Francis!
FRAN.
Anon, anon, sir.
In a minute, sir.
PRINCE.
Five year! by'r Lady, a long lease for the clinking of
pewter. But, Francis, darest thou be so valiant as to play
the coward with thy indenture and show it a fair pair of heels
and run from it?
Five years! By our Lady, that's a long time to learn
to serve drinks. But, Francis, are you so brave that you could
break your contract and show it a clean pair of heels
as you run from it?
FRAN.
O Lord, sir, I'll be sworn upon all the books in England,
I could find in my heart--
Oh lord, sir, I'll swear on all Bibles in England,
if I can find it in my heart–
POINTZ.
[within.] Francis!
Francis!
FRAN.
/> Anon, anon, sir.
In a minute, sir.
PRINCE.
How old art thou, Francis?
How old are you, Francis?
FRAN.
Let me see,--about Michaelmas next I shall be--
Let me see–at next Michaelmas I shall be–
POINTZ.
[within.] Francis!
Francis!
FRAN.
Anon, sir.--Pray you, stay a little, my lord.
In a minute, sir.–Excuse me, wait a little while, my lord.
PRINCE.
Nay, but hark you, Francis:for the sugar thou gavest
me, 'twas a pennyworth, was't not?
No, but listen, Francis: that sugar you gave
me, it was a pennyworth, wasn't it?
FRAN.
O Lord, sir, I would it had been two!
O Lord, Sir, I wish it had been two!
PRINCE.
I will give thee for it a thousand pound:ask me when
thou wilt, and thou shalt have it.
I'll give you thousand pounds for it: ask me when you
want it, and you shall have it.
POINTZ.
[within.] Francis!
Francis!
FRAN.
Anon, anon.
In a minute.
PRINCE.
Anon, Francis? No, Francis; but to-morrow, Francis; or,
Francis, a Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when thou wilt. But,
Francis,--