The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 76
WOR.
Ay, by my faith, that bears a frosty sound.
Yes, I swear, that doesn't sound good.
HOT.
What may the King's whole battle reach unto?
What do the whole of the King's forces come to?
VER.
To thirty thousand.
Thirty thousand men.
HOT.
Forty let it be:
My father and Glendower being both away,
The powers of us may serve so great a day.
Come, let us take a muster speedily:
Doomsday is near; die all, die merrily.
Let it be forty thousand:
with my father and Glendower both not being here,
our forces will have to suffice for this great day.
Come, let's get organised quickly:
Doomsday is near; die everyone, die happily.
DOUG.
Talk not of dying:I am out of fear
Of death or death's hand for this one half-year.
Don't talk of dying: I am not worried
about dying within the next six months.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Falstaff and Bardolph.]
FAL.
Bardolph, get thee before to Coventry; fill me a bottle of
sack:our soldiers shall march through; we'll to Sutton-Co'fil'
to-night.
Bardolph, you go ahead to Coventry; get me a bottle of
sack: our soldiers shall march through; we'll be in
Sutton Coldfield tonight.
BARD.
Will you give me money, captain?
Will you give me the money for it, captain?
FAL.
Lay out, lay out.
Pay for it yourself.
BARD.
This bottle makes an angel.
This bottle means you owe me six shillings.
FAL.
An if it do, take it for thy labour; an if it make twenty,
take them all; I'll answer the coinage. Bid my lieutenant
Peto meet me at the town's end.
And if I do, take it from expenses; and if it were twenty,
take them all; I'll answer for it. Tell my lieutenant
Peto to meet me the other side of the town.
BARD.
I will, captain:farewell.
I will, captain: farewell.
[Exit.]
FAL.
If I be not ashamed of my soldiers, I am a soused gurnet. I have
misused the King's press damnably. I have got, in exchange of
a hundred and fifty soldiers, three hundred and odd pounds. I
press'd me none but good householders, yeomen's sons; inquired
me out contracted bachelors, such as had been ask'd twice on the
banns; such a commodity of warm slaves as had as lief hear the
Devil as a drum; such as fear the report of a caliver worse than
a struck fowl or a hurt wild-duck. I press'd me none but such
toasts-and-butter, with hearts in their bodies no bigger than
pins'-heads, and they have bought out their services; and now
my whole charge consists of ancients, corporals, lieutenants,
gentlemen of companies, slaves as ragged as Lazarus in the
painted cloth, where the glutton's dogs licked his sores; and
such as, indeed, were never soldiers, but discarded unjust
serving-men, younger sons to younger brothers, revolted tapsters,
and ostlers trade-fallen; the cankers of a calm world and a long
peace; ten times more dishonourable ragged than an old faced
ancient:and such have I, to fill up the rooms of them that have
bought out their services, that you would think that I had a
hundred and fifty tattered Prodigals lately come from
swine-keeping, from eating draff and husks. A mad fellow met me on
the way, and told me I had unloaded all the gibbets, and press'd
the dead bodies.
No eye hath seen such scarecrows. I'll not march through Coventry
with them, that's flat:nay, and the villains march wide betwixt
the legs, as if they had gyves on; for, indeed, I had the most of
them out of prison. There's but a shirt and a half in all my company;
and the half-shirt is two napkins tack'd together and thrown over the
shoulders like a herald's coat without sleeves; and the shirt, to say
the truth, stolen from my host at Saint Alban's, or the red-nose
innkeeper of Daventry.
But that's all one; they'll find linen enough on every hedge.
If I'm not ashamed of my soldiers, I'm a
pickled fish; I've abused my right of conscription shamefully.
I have got three hundred pounds for a hundred
and fifty soldiers. I've conscripted nobody but
good householders, the sons of Yeomen, I've found
engaged bachelors, who have had their banns read,
such a community of rich slaves who would
just as soon hear the devil as hear the drum,
who fear the sound of gunshots worse than a
wild duck. I conscripted nobody but pampered
citizens, with hearts in their bellies the size of
pinheads, and they have paid to escape service;
and so my entire force consists of old men,
corporals, lieutenants, non-commissioned officers–
slaves as ragged as Lazarus in cheap tapestries,
when the greedy man's dogs licked his sores:
and those who were never soldiers, but dismissed dishonest serving men,
the younger sons of younger brothers, rebellious
barmen, unemployed grooms, the growths of a
calm world and a long piece, ten times more
disreputable than any tattered old flag; and
these are the ones I have to take the places of those who
bought themselves out of service, so you would think that
I had a hundred and fifty ragged wastrels recently
returned from pig keeping, from eating swill and husks.
I met a mad fellow on the way who accused me of
taking down all the hanged men and conscripting the dead bodies.
Nobody's ever seen such scarecrows. I shan't
march through Coventry with them, that’s certain: no,
the villains march as if they had chains on their legs,
for it's true I had most of them out of prison.
There isn't a shirt and a half amongst my whole
company, and the half shirt is to napkins tacked together
and thrown over the shoulders like a herald's
coat without sleeves; and to tell the truth the shirt
was stolen from a landlord at St Albans, or the rednosed
innkeeper at Daventry. But it doesn't matter, they can
steal dryinglinen off people's hedges as they pass.
[Enter Prince Henry and Westmoreland.]
PRINCE.
How now, blown Jack! how now, quilt!
Hello there, puffed out Jack! Hello there, quilt!
FAL.
What, Hal! how now, mad wag! what a devil dost thou in
Warwickshire?--My good Lord of Westmoreland, I cry you mercy:
I thought your honour had already been at Shrewsbury.
What, Hal! Hello there, mad lad! What the devil are you doing in
Warwickshire? My good Lord of Westmorland, excuse me:
I thought your honour was already at Shrewsbury.
WEST.
Faith, Sir John, 'tis more than time that I were there, and you too;
but my powers are there already. The King, I can tell you, looks for
us all:we must away all, to-night.
I swear, St John, it's about time that I was there, and you too;
but my for
ces are already there. The King, I can tell you, is waiting for
all of us: we must all leave, tonight.
FAL.
Tut, never fear me:I am as vigilant as a cat to steal cream.
Tut, don't worry about me: I am as keen as a cat waiting to steal cream.
PRINCE.
I think, to steal cream, indeed; for thy theft hath already made thee
butter. But tell me, Jack, whose fellows are these that come after?
Stealing cream indeed, for your theft has already made you
into butter. But tell me, Jack, whose are these men following?
FAL.
Mine, Hal, mine.
Mine, Hal, mine.
PRINCE.
I did never see such pitiful rascals.
I never saw such pitiful rascals.
FAL.
Tut, tut; good enough to toss; food for powder, food for powder;
they'll fill a pit as well as better:tush, man, mortal men,
mortal men.
Tut-tut; they're good enough to throw in; cannon fodder, cannon fodder;
they'll fill a grave as well as the next man: mortal men,
mortal men.
WEST.
Ay, but, Sir John, methinks they are exceeding poor and bare,--too
beggarly.
Yes, but, Sir John, they seem to me extremely poor and badly turned out–
they are like beggars.
FAL.
Faith, for their poverty, I know not where they had that; and,
for their bareness, I am sure they never learn'd that of me.
Well, I swear I don't know how they got poor; and
as for their turnout, I'm sure they didn't learn that from me.
PRINCE.
No, I'll be sworn; unless you call three fingers on the ribs
bare. But, sirrah, make haste:Percy is already in the field.
No, I'll swear to that; unless you say three fingers of fat
on the chest is a good turnout. But, sir, hurry: Percy is already on the battlefield.
[Exit.]
FAL.
What, is the King encamp'd?
What, has the King set up camp?
WEST.
He is, Sir John:I fear we shall stay too long.
He has, Sir John: I fear we will be late.
[Exit.]
FAL.
Well,
To the latter end of a fray and the beginning of a feast
Fits a dull fighter and a keen guest.
Well,
it suits a reluctant fighter and a keen eater
to arrive at the end of the battle and the beginning of the feast.
[Exit.]
[Enter Hotspur, Worcester, Douglas, and Vernon.]
HOT.
We'll fight with him to-night.
We'll fight with him tonight.
WOR.
It may not be.
We may not.
DOUG.
You give him, then, advantage.
Then you'll hand him the advantage.
VER.
Not a whit.
Not at all.
HOT.
Why say you so? looks he not for supply?
Why do you say so? Isn't he waiting for reinforcements?
VER.
So do we.
We are too.
HOT.
His is certain, ours is doubtful.
He can rely on his, we can't on ours.
WOR.
Good cousin, be advised; stir not to-night.
Good cousin, take my advice; don't move tonight.
VER.
Do not, my lord.
Don't, my lord.
DOUG.
You do not counsel well:
You speak it out of fear and cold heart.
This is not good advice:
you're giving it from fear and cowardice.
VER.
Do me no slander, Douglas:by my life,--
And I dare well maintain it with my life,--
If well-respected honour bid me on,
I hold as little counsel with weak fear
As you, my lord, or any Scot that this day lives:
Let it be seen to-morrow in the battle
Which of us fears.
Don't badmouth me, Douglas: on my life–
and I will back it up with my life–
if a well-respected honourable man orders me on,
I will have as little truck with weak fear
as you, my lord, or any Scot alive:
let's see in the battle tomorrow
which of us is afraid.
DOUG.
Yea, or to-night.
Yes, or tonight.
VER.
Content.
Enough.
HOT.
To-night, say I.
I say tonight.
VER.
Come, come, it may not be. I wonder much,
Being men of such great leading as you are,
That you foresee not what impediments
Drag back our expedition:certain Horse
Of my cousin Vernon's are not yet come up:
Your uncle Worcester's Horse came but to-day;
And now their pride and mettle is asleep,
Their courage with hard labour tame and dull,
That not a horse is half the half himself.
Come, come, it can't happen. I'm astonished
that men who are such great leaders
can't see the drawbacks to
your plan: some cavalry
of my cousin Vernon's haven't arrived:
the cavalry of your uncle Worcester only came today;
and now all their brave horses are asleep,
their courage dulled by their hard labour,
so no horse is a quarter of himself.
HOT.
So are the horses of the enemy
In general, journey-bated and brought low:
The better part of ours are full of rest.
And most of the enemy's horses
are worn out with their journey as well:
the greater part ofours are well rested.
WOR.
The number of the King exceedeth ours.
For God's sake, cousin, stay till all come in.
The King has greater numbers than us.
For God's sake, cousin, wait until we have them all here.
[The Trumpet sounds a parley.]
[Enter Sir Walter Blunt.]
BLUNT.
I come with gracious offers from the King,
If you vouchsafe me hearing and respect.
I come with generous offers from the King,
if you will give me a respectful hearing.
HOT.
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; and would to God
You were of our determination!
Some of us love you well; and even those some
Envy your great deservings and good name,
Because you are not of our quality,
But stand against us like an enemy.
Welcome, Sir Walter Blunt; I wish to God
that you were on our side!
Some of us love you very much; and they
envy your great reputation and good name,
because you are not on our side,
but stand against us like an enemy.
BLUNT.
And God defend but still I should stand so,
So long as out of limit and true rule
You stand against anointed majesty!
But to my charge:the King hath sent to know
The nature of your griefs; and whereupon
You conjure from the breast of civil peace
Such bold hostility, teaching his duteous land
Audacious cruelty. If that the King
Have any way your good deserts forgot,
Which he confesseth to be manifold,
He bids you name your griefs; and with all speed
You shall have your desires with interest,
And pardon absolute for yourself and these
Herein misled by your suggestion.
And God forfend that I should stand otherwise,
as long as you wrongly rebel
against anointed majesty!
But this is my task: the King has sent me to ask
what is the nature of your complaints; and why
you have conjured up such terrible war
from the peaceful country, showing daring cruelty
to his loyal land. If the King
has in any way neglected to reward your good
qualities, which he admits are many,
he asks you to name your grievances; and at once
you shall have what you ask for and more,
with a complete pardon for yourself and those
who have been led astray by you.
HOT.
The King is kind; and well we know the King
Knows at what time to promise, when to pay.
My father and my uncle and myself
Did give him that same royalty he wears;
And--when he was not six-and-twenty strong,
Sick in the world's regard, wretched and low,
A poor unminded outlaw sneaking home--
My father gave him welcome to the shore:
And--when he heard him swear and vow to God,
He came but to be Duke of Lancaster,
To sue his livery and beg his peace,
With tears of innocence and terms of zeal--