The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 90
As for the other, I owe her money: I don't know whether that means she's damned or not.
HOSTESS.
No, I warrant you.
Not, I swear.
FALSTAFF.
No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there
is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in
thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.
No, I think you're not; I think you will get away with that. However,
there is another charge against you, for allowing meat to be eaten in
your house, against the law; I think you'll be punished for that.
HOSTESS.
All victuallers do so: what 's a joint of mutton or two in a
whole Lent?
All innkeepers do that: what's the harm in one or two
joints of mutton over the whole of Lent?
PRINCE.
You, gentlewoman,--
You, gentlewoman–
DOLL.
What says your grace?
What are you saying, your Grace?
FALSTAFF.
His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
He's saying something to be polite that he knows isn't true.
[Knocking within.]
HOSTESS.
Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.
Who's knocking so loudly at the door? See to the door, Francis.
[Enter Peto.]
PRINCE.
Peto, how now! what news?
Peto, hello there! What news?
PETO.
The king your father is at Westminster;
And there are twenty weak and wearied posts
Come from the north: and, as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns,
And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
Your father the King is at Westminster;
and there are twenty exhausted messengers
from the North: and, as I came along,
I met and overtook a dozen captains,
in a great rush, sweating, knocking on all the tavern doors,
everyone asking for Sir John Falstaff.
PRINCE.
By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame,
So idly to profane the precious time,
When tempest of commotion, like the south
Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt
And drop upon our bare unarmed heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
By heaven, Poins, I feel very guilty
at wasting away precious time
when a great storm like those carried
on the south winds is beginning to
empty its black clouds on our unprotected heads.
Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
[Exeunt Prince, Poins, Peto, and Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must
hence, and leave it unpicked.
[Knocking within.] More knocking at the door!
[Re-enter Bardolph.]
How now! what's the matter?
Now we come to the sweetest part of the night, and we must
leave, and can't enjoy it. More knocking at the door!
Hello there! What's the matter?
BARDOLPH.
You must away to court, sir, presently;
A dozen captains stay at door for you.
You must go to court sir, at once;
there are a dozen captains waiting at the door for you.
FALSTAFF.
[To the Page].
Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll.
You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after:
the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on.
Farewell, good wenches: if I be not sent away post, I will see
you again ere I go.
Pay the musicians, sir. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll.
You see, my good lasses, how good men are sought out:
useless men may sleep, while the man of action is called for.
Farewell, good lasses: if I'm not sent away at once, I will
see you again before I go.
DOLL.
I cannot speak; if my heart be not ready to burst,--well, sweet
Jack, have a care of thyself.
I cannot speak, I think my heart is about to burst–well,
sweet Jack, take care of yourself.
FALSTAFF.
Farewell, farewell.
Farewell, farewell.
[Exeunt Falstaff and Bardolph.]
HOSTESS.
Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years,
come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man,----
well, fare thee well.
Well, farewell: I have known you for the last twenty nine years,
come next harvest time; but a more honest and true hearted man–
well, farewell.
BARDOLPH.
[Within.] Mistress Tearsheet!
Mistress Tearsheet!
HOSTESS.
What's the matter?
What's the matter?
BARDOLPH.
[Within.] Bid Mistress Tearsheet come to my master.
Tell Mistress Tearsheet to come to my master.
HOSTESS.
O, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll: come. She comes blubbered. Yea, will you come, Doll?
Oh, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll: come.
She's covered in tears. Will you come, Doll?
[Exeunt.]
[Enter the King in his nightgown, with a Page.]
KING.
Go call the Earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
But, ere they come, bid them o'er-read these letters,
And well consider of them: make good speed.
[Exit Page.]
How many thousands of my poorest subjects
Are at this hour asleep! O sleep, O gentle sleep,
Nature's soft nurse, how have I frighted thee,
That thou no more wilt weigh my eyelids down
And steep my senses in forgetfulness?
Why rather, sleep, liest thou in smoky cribs,
Upon uneasy pallets stretching thee
And hush'd with buzzing night-flies to thy slumber
Than in the perfumed chambers of the great,
Under the canopies of costly state,
And lull'd with sound of sweetest melody?
O thou dull god, why liest thou with the vile
In loathsome beds, and leavest the kingly couch
A watch-case or a common 'larum-bell?
Wilt thou upon the high and giddy mast
Seal up the ship-boy's eyes, and rock his brains
In cradle of the rude imperious surge
And in the visitation of the winds,
Who take the ruffian billows by the top,
Curling their monstrous heads and hanging them
With deafening clamour in the slippery clouds,
That, with the hurly, death itself awakes?
Canst thou, O partial sleep, give thy repose
To the wet sea-boy in an hour so rude;
And in the calmest and most stillest night,
With all appliances and means to boot,
Deny it to a king? Then happy low, lie down!
Uneasy lies the head that wears a crown.
Go and summon the earls of Surrey and of Warwick;
but before they come, tell them to read over these letters
and to think about them. Be quick.
How many thousands of my poorest subjects
are sleep now! O sleep, gentle sleep,
the softness of nature, what have I done to you,
that yo
u will no longer let my eyelids close,
and let my senses recover with forgetfulness?
Why, sleep, do you prefer smoky hovels,
stretching yourself out upon uncomfortable beds,
resting amongst the buzzing night flies,
to the scented chambers of great men,
and the most luxurious beds,
with the sound of the sweetest music?
Oh you dull god, why do you lie with the lowly
in their horrible beds, leaving the King's bed
as restless as the inside of a watch, or an alarm bell?
Will you allow a ship's boy to sleep when he is
up in the crow's nest, soothing him on the
rough ocean, when the winds come and blow
the waves into great mountains,
throwing them up at the sky, with a racket
that could awake death itself?
Can you, choosy sleep, give your rest
to a wet sailor boy at such a rough time,
and on the calmest and stillest night,
with all the best things to encourage you,
deny it to a King? Then enjoy your rest, happy lowly ones!
The head that wears the crown gets no rest.
[Enter Warwick and Surrey.]
WARWICK.
Many good morrows to your majesty!
Many good mornings to your Majesty!
KING.
Is it good morrow, lords?
Is it morning, Lords?
WARWICK.
'Tis one o'clock, and past.
It's past one o'clock.
KING.
Why then, good morrow to you all, my lords.
Have you read o'er the letters that I sent you?
Why then, good morning to you, my lords.
Have you read over the letters that I sent you?
WARWICK.
We have, my liege.
We have, my lord.
KING.
Then you perceive the body of our kingdom
How foul it is; what rank diseases grow,
And with what danger, near the heart of it.
Then you can see how rotten our kingdom
has become; what terrible threats there are
growing near the heart of it.
WARWICK.
It is but as a body yet distemper'd;
Which to his former strength may be restored
With good advice and little medicine:
My Lord Northumberland will soon be cool'd.
It's just like a body with a slight illness;
it can be restored to its former strength
with good advice and a little medicine:
my Lord Northumberland will soon be beaten.
KING.
O God! that one might read the book of fate,
And see the revolution of the times
Make mountains level, and the continent,
Weary of solid firmness, melt itself
Into the sea! and, other times, to see
The beachy girdle of the ocean
Too wide for Neptune's hips; how chances mock,
And changes fill the cup of alteration
With divers liquors! O, if this were seen,
The happiest youth, viewing his progress through,
What perils past, what crosses to ensue,
Would shut the book, and sit him down and die.
'Tis not ten years gone
Since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
Did feast together, and in two years after
Were they at wars: it is but eight years since
This Percy was the man nearest my soul,
Who like a brother toil'd in my affairs
And laid his love and life under my foot,
Yea, for my sake, even to the eyes of Richard
Gave him defiance. But which of you was by--
You, cousin Nevil, as I may remember--
[To Warwick.]
When Richard, with his eye brimful of tears,
Then check'd and rated by Northumberland,
Did speak these words, now proved a prophecy?
"Northumberland, thou ladder by the which
My cousin Bolingbroke ascends my throne;"
Though then, God knows, I had no such intent,
But that necessity so bow'd the state
That I and greatness were compell'd to kiss:
"The time shall come," thus did he follow it,
"The time will come, that foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption:" so went on,
Foretelling this same time's condition
And the division of our amity.
Oh God, if only one could read the future,
and see time moving on,
flattening mountains, and the dry land,
weary of being firm, melting
into the sea, and at other times see
the great circle of the ocean
spreading wider than we can now imagine; how luck
plays such a great role in all changes;
if this could be seen, the happiest young man,
looking at what life had in store,
the dangers he would face, the crosses he'd have to bear,
would close the book and sit down and die.
Not ten years have passed
since Richard and Northumberland, great friends,
were feasting together, and two years after that
they were fighting. It's only eight years ago
that Percy was my closest friend;
he worked for me like a brother,
and devoted his love and his life to me;
for my sake he defied Richard
to his face. But which of you was here–
you, cousin Nevil, as I recall–
when Richard, with his eyes overflowing with tears,
interrupted and criticised by Northumberland,
said these words, which now seem prophetic?
“Northumberland, you ladder on which
my cousin Bolingbroke climbs up to my throne"
(though then, God knows, I had no such plans,
it was only when the country was in so much trouble that I
was forced to assume greatness)
“The time will come"–this is what he said afterwards–
“the time will come, that foul sin shall gather force,
and explode into evil."–And he carried on,
predicting what would happen at this time,
and the breaking of our friendship.
WARWICK.
There is a history in all men's lives,
Figuring the natures of the times deceased;
The which observed, a man may prophesy,
With a near aim, of the main chance of things
As yet not come to life, who in their seeds
And weak beginning lie intreasured.
Such things become the hatch and brood of time;
And by the necessary form of this
King Richard might create a perfect guess
That great Northumberland, then false to him,
Would of that seed grow to a greater falseness;
Which should not find a ground to root upon,
Unless on you.
History has a tendency to repeat itself,
and when a man sees it he can prophesy
fairly accurately about things
that have not yet happened,
but can be seen in their beginnings.
These things develop over time;
and knowing this
King Richard could make a perfect guess
that great Northumberland, having been false to him,
would from that seed grow to be even more false;
and there was nowhere that seed could grow
unless it was on you.
KING.
Are these things then necessities?
Then let us meet them like necessiti
es:
And that same word even now cries out on us:
They say the bishop and Northumberland
Are fifty thousand strong.
So these things are inevitable?
Then let us meet them like inevitabilities:
that same word should now drive us on.
They say the Bishop and Northumberland
have fifty thousand men.
WARWICK.
It cannot be, my lord;
Rumour doth double, like the voice and echo,
The numbers of the fear'd. Please it your grace
To go to bed. Upon my soul, my lord,
The powers that you already have sent forth
Shall bring this prize in very easily.
To comfort you the more, I have received
A certain instance that Glendower is dead.
Your majesty hath been this fortnight ill,
And these unseason'd hours perforce must add
Unto your sickness.
That can't be true, my lord;
rumour doubles the numbers of the enemy
like the echo of a voice. Please go to bed,
your Grace. I swear, my lord,
the forces that you have already sent out
will capture this prize very easily.
To give you more comfort, I have received
certain news that Glendower is dead.
Your Majesty has been ill for a fortnight,
and these late hours can only
make you worse.
KING.
I will take your counsel:
And were these inward wars once out of hand,
We would, dear lords, unto the Holy Land.
I'll take your advice:
and once the civil wars are dealt with
I want, dear lords, to make that trip to the Holy Land.
[Exeunt.]
[Enter Shallow and Silence, meeting; Mouldy, Shadow, Wart,