The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 70
Give me a cup of sack, to make my eyes look red, that it may be
thought I have wept; for I must speak in passion, and I will do it
in King Cambyses' vein.
Well, if you have any grace left in you, you will
be moved.-
Give me a cup of sack, to make my eyes look red, so it looks
as if I’ve been weeping; for I must speak with passion, and I will
imitate King Cambyses.
PRINCE.
Well, here is my leg.
Well, I kneel to you.
FAL.
And here is my speech.--Stand aside, nobility.
And here’s what I say. – Stand back, noblemen.
HOST.
O Jesu, this is excellent sport, i faith!
Oh Jesus, I swear this is good fun!
FAL.
Weep not, sweet Queen; for trickling tears are vain.
Do not weep, sweet queen; trickling tears are useless.
HOST.
O, the Father, how he holds his countenance!
Oh, by God, how does he keep a straight face!
FAL.
For God's sake, lords, convey my tristful Queen;
For tears do stop the floodgates of her eyes.
For God’s sake, lords, take my sad Queen away;
tears are blocking the floodgates of her eyes.
HOST.
O Jesu, he doth it as like one of these harlotry players as ever
I see!
Oh Jesus, he’s as good as any of those rascal actors!
FAL.
Peace, good pint-pot; peace, good tickle-brain.--Harry, I do not
only marvel where thou spendest thy time, but also how thou art
accompanied:for though the camomile, the more it is trodden on,
the faster it grows, yet youth, the more it is wasted, the sooner
it wears. That thou art my son, I have partly thy mother's word,
partly my own opinion; but chiefly a villainous trick of thine eye,
and a foolish hanging of thy nether lip, that doth warrant me. If,
then, thou be son to me, here lies the point:Why, being son to me,
art thou so pointed at?
Shall the blessed Sun of heaven prove a micher, and eat blackberries?
a question not to be ask'd. Shall the son of England prove a thief,
and take purses? a question to be ask'd.
There is a thing, Harry, which thou hast often heard of, and it is
known to many in our land by the name of pitch:this pitch, as
ancient writers do report, doth defile; so doth the company thou
keepest:for, Harry, now I do not speak to thee in drink, but in
tears; not in pleasure, but in passion; not in words only,
but in woes also.And yet there is a virtuous man whom I have
often noted in thy company, but I know not his name.
Quiet, pint-pot, quiet, booze-brain.-
Harry, I don’t only wonder where you’ve been spending your time,
but also who you hang around with.For though
chamomile grows better the more you trample it,
the more you spend your youth the quicker you lose it.
I have partly your mother’s word that you are my son,
partly my own opinion, but mainly a villainous trick of your eye, and the foolish
droop of your lower lip, that gives me proof. If
then you are my son, here’s the point – why,
if you’re my son, do you get so pointed at?Shall the
blessed sun of heaven be a truant, off blackberrying?
It’s out of the question.Shall the
sun of England prove to be a thief, and steal purses? A
question we must ask.There’s a thing, Harry, which
you will often have heard of, and many in our country
call it pitch.This pitch ( as ancient writers tell us) defiles,
and so does the company you keep; for, Harry, I’m not
talking through drink, but through tears; not in happiness, but passion,
not only through my words but through my sorrow.
But there is a good man whom I have often seen
in your company, though I do not know his name.
PRINCE.
What manner of man, an it like your Majesty?
What sort of man, if you please, your Majesty?
FAL.
A goodly portly man, i'faith, and a corpulent; of a cheerful look,
a pleasing eye, and a most noble carriage; and, as I think, his age
some fifty, or, by'r Lady, inclining to threescore; and now I
remember me, his name is Falstaff:if that man should be lewdly given,
he deceiveth me; for, Harry, I see virtue in his looks.
If, then, the tree may be known by the fruit, as the fruit by the tree,
then, peremptorily I speak it, there is virtue in that Falstaff:him
keep with, the rest banish. And tell me now, thou naughty varlet, tell
me where hast thou been this month?
A good dignified man, I swear, a full bodied one; with a cheerful look,
an attractive eye, and a very noble bearing; his age, I think, about
fifty, or, maybe, getting on for sixty; and now I
remember, his name is Falstaff:if that man has vulgar inclinations
he’s fooled me; for, Harry, I can see virtue in his looks.
If, then, the tree can be judged by its fruit, as the fruit by the tree,
then I say confidently that there is virtue in that Falstaff: keep him,
send the rest away.And now, tell me, you naughty scoundrel, tell
me where you have been the last month?
PRINCE.
Dost thou speak like a king? Do thou stand for me, and I'll play
my father.
Are you talking like a king?You play me, and I’ll
play your father.
FAL.
Depose me! if thou dost it half so gravely, so majestically, both
in word and matter, hang me up by the heels for a rabbit-sucker or a
poulter's hare.
Overthrow me! If you do it with half as much dignity and majesty,
hang me up as a skinny rabbit or a hare in a poulterer’s.
PRINCE.
Well, here I am set.
Well, here I sit.
FAL.
And here I stand.--Judge, my masters.
And here I stand – Judge it, my masters.
PRINCE.
Now, Harry, whence come you?
Now, Harry, where have you come from?
FAL.
My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
My noble lord, from Eastcheap.
PRINCE.
The complaints I hear of thee are grievous.
I’ve heard many bad things said about you.
FAL.
'Sblood, my lord, they are false.--Nay, I'll tickle ye for a
young prince, i'faith.
By God, my lord, it’s not true – I’ll make you laugh at
my impression of a young prince, I swear.
PRINCE.
Swearest thou, ungracious boy? henceforth ne'er look on me. Thou art
violently carried away from grace:there is a devil haunts thee, in
the likeness of an old fat man,--a tun of man is thy companion. Why
dost thou converse with that trunk of humours, that bolting-hutch of
beastliness, that swollen parcel of dropsies, that huge bombard of
sack, that roasted Manningtree ox with the pudding in his belly, that
reverend Vice, that grey Iniquity, that father ruffian, that vanity
in years? Wherein is he good, but to taste sack and drink it? wherein
neat and cleanly, but to carve a capon and eat it? wherein cunning, but
in craft? wherein crafty, but in villany? wherein villainous, but in
all th
ings? wherein worthy, but in nothing?
You swear, graceless boy? From now on don't come near me. You are
violently removed from grace: there is a devil who haunts you, in
the shape of a fat old man–a barrel of a man who is your companion. Why
do you associate with that trunk of diseases, that bin full of beastliness,
that great parcel of swellings, that huge wine bag of
sack, that roasted Manningtree ox with pudding in his belly, that
old Vice, that grey Iniquity, that fatherly ruffian, that aged vanity?
What's he good for, except for tasting and drinking sack? What
can he do neatly and cleanly, except for carving a chicken and eating it?
How is he skilful, except for cheating? What's he do with that, except being a villain? What's he villainous at, except everything? What is he good at,
apart from nothing?
FAL.
I would your Grace would take me with you:whom means your Grace?
I wish I understood what your Grace's saying: whom does your Grace mean?
PRINCE.
That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old
white-bearded Satan.
That villainous abominable misleader of youth, Falstaff, that old
white bearded devil.
FAL.
My lord, the man I know.
My Lord, I know the man.
PRINCE.
I know thou dost.
I know you do.
FAL.
But to say I know more harm in him than in myself, were to say more
than I know. That he is old,--(the more the pity,--his white hairs do
witness it. If sack and sugar be a fault, God help the wicked! if to
be old and merry be a sin, then many an old host that I know is damn'd:
if to be fat be to be hated, then Pharaoh's lean kine are to be loved.
No, my good lord:banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Pointz; but,
for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,
valiant Jack Falstaff, and therefore more valiant, being, as he is, old
Jack Falstaff, banish not him thy Harry's company, banish not him thy
Harry's company:banish plump Jack, and banish all the world.
But I can't say that there is any more harm in him than there is in
myself. That he is old–more's the pity–is shown by his white hairs.
If liking sack and sugar is a fault, God help wicked people! If to
be old and merry is a sin, then many old landlords I know are going to hell:
if one should be hated for being fat, then Pharaoh's thin cattle should be loved.
No, my good lord: banish Peto, banish Bardolph, banish Pointz; but,
as for sweet Jack Falstaff, kind Jack Falstaff, true Jack Falstaff,
brave Jack Falstaff, who is even more brave because he is old
Jack Falstaff, don't forbid your Harry to have him for company, don't forbid him:
if you banish plump Jack, you banish the whole world.
PRINCE.
I do, I will.
I do, and I will.
[A knocking heard.]
[Exeunt Hostess, Francis, and Bardolph.]
[Enter Bardolph, running.]
BARD.
O, my lord, my lord! the sheriff with a most monstrous watch is
at the door.
Oh my lord, my lord! The Sheriff is at the door with a
great force of men.
FAL.
Out, ye rogue!--Play out the play:I have much to say in the
behalf of that Falstaff.
Get out, you scoundrel! Let's carry on with the play: I have a lot to say in the
defence of that Falstaff.
[Re-enter the Hostess, hastily.]
HOST.
O Jesu, my lord, my lord,--
O Jesus, my lord, my lord,–
Prince.
Heigh, heigh! the Devil rides upon a fiddlestick:what's the matter?
Hello! the devil is leading the dance: what's the matter?
Host.
The sheriff and all the watch are at the door:they are come to
search the house. Shall I let them in?
The sheriff and all the watch are at the door: they have come to
search the house. Shall I let them in?
FAL.
Dost thou hear, Hal? Never call a true piece of gold a counterfeit:
thou art essentially made without seeming so.
Did you hear that, Hal? Don't tell them a good man like me is bad:
you have all the good qualities, but you don't show them.
Prince.
And thou a natural coward, without instinct.
And you are natural coward, with no instinct.
FAL.
I deny your major:if you will deny the sheriff, so; if not, let him
enter:if I become not a cart as well as another man, a plague on my
bringing up! I hope I shall as soon be strangled with a halter as
another.
I reject your thesis: if you will reject the Sheriff, good; if not, let him
come in: if I don't look as good on a tumbril as the next man,
a plague on my upbringing! I think I'll make just as good a victim
for the hangman as another.
PRINCE.
Go, hide thee behind the arras:--the rest walk, up above.Now,
my masters, for a true face and good conscience.
Go, hide yourself behind the curtain: the rest of you go upstairs. Now,
my masters, I need an honest face and a good conscience.
FAL.
Both which I have had; but their date is out, and therefore I'll
hide me.
I've had both in the past; but they are past their sell by date, and so I'll
hide.
PRINCE.
Call in the sheriff.--
[Exeunt all but the Prince and Pointz.]
[Enter Sheriff and Carrier.]
Now, master sheriff, what's your will with me?
Call in the Sheriff.
Now, Master Sheriff, what do you want with me?
SHER.
First, pardon me, my lord. A hue-and-cry
Hath followed certain men unto this house.
Firstly, forgive me, my lord. A hue and cry
has followed certain men to this house.
PRINCE.
What men?
What men?
SHER.
One of them is well known, my gracious lord,--
A gross fat man.
One of them is well known, my gracious lord–
a grotesquely fat man.
CAR.
As fat as butter.
As fat as butter.
PRINCE.
The man, I do assure you, is not here;
For I myself at this time have employ'd him.
And, sheriff, I will engage my word to thee,
That I will, by to-morrow dinner-time,
Send him to answer thee, or any man,
For any thing he shall be charged withal:
And so, let me entreat you leave the house.
I can promise you that that man is not here;
for at the moment he is in my employment.
And, Sheriff, I give you my word
that I will, by dinner time tomorrow,
send him to face you or any man
on any charges raised against him:
and so, I ask you to leave the house.
SHER.
I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
Have in this robbery lost three hundred marks.
I will, my lord. There are two gentlemen
who have lost three hundred marks in this robbery
PRINCE.
It may be so:if he have robb'd these men,
He shall be answerable; and so, farewell.
> That may be the case: if he has robbed these men,
he shall answer for it; and so, farewell.
SHER.
Good night, my noble lord.
Good night, my noble lord.
PRINCE.
I think it is good morrow, is it not?
I think it's good morning, isn't it?
SHER.
Indeed, my lord, I think't be two o'clock.
Indeed, my lord, I think it is two o'clock.
[Exit Sheriff and Carrier.]
PRINCE.
This oily rascal is known as well as Paul's. Go, call him forth.
This oily rascal is as well known as St Paul's Cathedral. Go, call him here.
POINTZ.
Falstaff!--fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a
horse.
Falstaff! Fast asleep behind the arras, and snorting like a
horse.
PRINCE.
Hark, how hard he fetches breath. Search his pockets.
[Pointz searches.]
What hast thou found?
Listen to how heavily he breathes. Search his pockets.
What have you found?
POINTZ.
Nothing but papers, my lord.
Just papers, my lord.