The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (136 page)

I say that we should not make any moves

until we have his assistance alongside us:

for in such a bloody business as this

we should not rely on assumptions, hopes

and guesses of uncertain aid.

ARCHBISHOP.

'Tis very true, Lord Bardolph; for indeed

It was young Hotspur's case at Shrewsbury.

That's very true, Lord Bardolph; indeed

that's what happened to young Hotspur at Shrewsbury.

LORD BARDOLPH.

It was, my lord; who lined himself with hope,

Eating the air on promise of supply,

Flattering himself in project of a power

Much smaller than the smallest of his thoughts:

And so, with great imagination

Proper to madmen, led his powers to death

And winking leap'd into destruction.

It was, my lord; he strengthened himself with hope,

trying to live on a promise of help,

imagining he could succeed with a force

much smaller than he could possibly have imagined:

and so, with the great fantasies

usual with madmen, he led his forces to their death

and blindly leapt into catastrophe.

HASTINGS.

But, by your leave, it never yet did hurt

To lay down likelihoods and forms of hope.

But, if you'll excuse me, it never hurt anyone

to plan out chances and hope for things.

LORD BARDOLPH.

Yes, if this present quality of war,

Indeed the instant action:  a cause on foot

Lives so in hope as in an early spring

We see the appearing buds; which to prove fruit,

Hope gives not so much warrant as despair

That frosts will bite them.  When we mean to build,

We first survey the plot, then draw the model;

And when we see the figure of the house,

Then we must rate the cost of the erection;

Which if we find outweighs ability,

What do we then but draw anew the model

In fewer offices, or at least desist

To build at all? Much more, in this great work,

Which is almost to pluck a kingdom down

And set another up, should we survey

The plot of situation and the model,

Consent upon a sure foundation,

Question surveyors, know our own estate,

How able such a work to undergo,

To weigh against his opposite; or else

We fortify in paper and in figures,

Using the names of men instead of men;

Like one that draws the model of a house

Beyond his power to build it; who, half through,

Gives o'er and leaves his part-created cost

A naked subject to the weeping clouds

And waste for churlish winter's tyranny.

Yes it will do harm, if this current war–

this business which has in fact already started–

is so reliant on hope, such as we have in early spring

when we see the buds appear; we think that they

will provide us with fruit, but they are more likely

to be consumed by the frosts. If we want to build something,

first we look over the plot, then we make drawings,

and when we see what the house will be like,

we must calculate the cost of building,

and if we find it is too much for us,

what do we do then, we redraw the model

with fewer rooms, or maybe we decide not

to build at all? So we should be even more careful in this great work–

which amounts to tearing down the Kingdom

and building a new one–in surveying

the situation and the plans,

agree to a certain foundation,

ask surveyors, who know what we have,

how feasible the work we want done is,

weighing it against adverse factors; or otherwise

we are building our forces out of paper and numbers,

using the names of men instead of actual men:

like someone who draws plans for a house

which he does not have the power to build, and halfway through

he gives up, leaving a partly built monument to his

expense open to the rain and a desert for the

harshness of winter.

HASTINGS.

Grant that our hopes, yet likely of fair birth,

Should be still-born, and that we now possess'd

The utmost man of expectation,

I think we are a body strong enough,

Even as we are, to equal with the king.

Even if our hopes, which are good ones,

do not come to fruition, and if the forces we have now

are the greatest that we will have,

I still think that we are a strong enough army

as we are at the moment, to fight with the king.

LORD BARDOLPH.

What, is the king but five and twenty thousand?

What, does the king only have twenty five thousand men?

HASTINGS.

To us no more; nay, not so much, Lord Bardolph.

For his divisions, as the times do brawl,

Are in three heads: one power against the French,

And one against Glendower; perforce a third

Must take up us:  so is the unfirm king

In three divided; and his coffers sound

With hollow poverty and emptiness.

He'll only be sending that number to us, in fact less, Lord Bardolph.

In these times of war his forces are divided

into three sections: one group fighting the French,

one against Glendower; he will have to send

a third at most to fight us: so this shaky king

is divided into three; and his Treasury

echoes with poverty and emptiness.

ARCHBISHOP.

That he should draw his several strengths together

And come against us in full puissance,

Need not be dreaded.

We need not fear him gathering all

his forces together and coming at us

with his full strength.

HASTINGS.

If he should do so,

He leaves his back unarm'd, the French and Welsh

Baying him at the heels:  never fear that.

If he should do so,

he leaves his back unprotected, with the French and Welsh

chasing after him: we need not fear that.

LORD BARDOLPH.

Who is it like should lead his forces hither?

Who is likely to lead his forces against us?

HASTINGS.

The Duke of Lancaster, and Westmoreland;

Against the Welsh, himself and Harry Monmouth:

But who is substituted 'gainst the French,

I have no certain notice.

The Duke of Lancaster, and Westmorland;

he and Harry Monmouth are fighting the Welsh:

I don't have any certain information as to

who is fighting against the French.

ARCHBISHOP.

Let us on,

And publish the occasion of our arms.

The commonwealth is sick of their own choice;

Their over-greedy love hath surfeited:

An habitation giddy and unsure

Hath he that buildeth on the vulgar heart.

O thou fond many, with what loud applause

Didst thou beat heaven with blessing Bolingbroke,

Before he was what thou wouldst have him be!

And being now trimm'd in thine own desires,

Thou, beastly feeder, art so full of him,

That thou provokest thyself to cast him up.

So, so, thou common dog, didst thou disgorge

Thy glutton bosom of the royal Richard;

And now thou wouldst eat thy dead vomit up,

And howl'st to find it. What trust is in these times?

They that, when Richard lived, would have him die,

Are now become enamour'd on his grave:

Thou that threw'st dust upon his goodly head

When through proud London he came sighing on

After the admired heels of Bolingbroke,

Criest now "O earth, yield us that king again,

And take thou this!"  O thoughts of men accursed!

Past and to come seems best; things present worst.

Let's press on

and announce our reasons for fighting.

The country is sick with their choice;

they have had enough of their love for the King.

He built his house on shaky foundations

relying on such vulgar people.

Oh you foolish populace, what great applause

you shouted up to heaven, blessing Bolingbroke,

before he was what you wanted him to be!

And now you got what you wanted,

you greedy beasts, you've had enough of him

and you want to throw them away.

So, you common dog, that's how you threw up

royal Richard from your greedy hearts;

and now you want to eat up your own vomit,

and you howl for it. What trust is there in these times?

Those who wanted Richard dead when he was alive

have now fallen in love with his grave.

You who threw dust on his good head

when he came sighing through haughty London

on the praised heels of Bolingbroke

are now shouting, “Oh Earth, give us back our King,

and take this one!" Oh cursed thoughts of men!

The past and the future always seem best; current things worst.

MOWBRAY.

Shall we go draw our numbers, and set on?

Shall we go and gather our forces, and get going?

HASTINGS.

We are time's subjects, and time bids be gone.

We are ruled by time, and this is the time to go.

[Exeunt.]