The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (109 page)

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,--

In a minute, Francis? No, Francis; but tomorrow, Francis; or,

Francis, on Thursday; or, indeed, Francis, when you want. But,

Francis–

FRAN.

My lord?

My lord?

PRINCE.

--wilt thou rob this leathern-jerkin, crystal-button,

nott-pated, agate-ring, puke-stocking, caddis-garter,

smooth-tongue, Spanish-pouch,--

–will you rob this leather jerkined, crystal buttoned,

cropped haired, agate ringed, bluestockinged, garter taped,

smooth tongued, leather pouched–

FRAN.

O Lord, sir, who do you mean?

Oh Lord, Sir, who do you mean?

PRINCE.

Why, then, your brown bastard is your only drink; for,

look you, Francis, your white canvas doublet will sully:in

Barbary, sir, it cannot come to so much.

Why, then, you'd better stick to serving wine; for,

Francis, if you rob your master you'll have to run for it:

your white coat won't stay too clean when you're on the run.

FRAN.

What, sir?

What, sir?

POINTZ.

[within.] Francis!

Francis!

PRINCE.

Away, you rogue! dost thou not hear them call?

Off you go, you rogue! Can't you hear them calling?

[Here they both call him; Francis stands amazed, not knowing

which way to go.]

[Enter Vintner.]

VINT.

What, stand'st thou still, and hear'st such a calling? Look

to the guests within. [Exit Francis.]--My lord, old Sir John,

with half-a-dozen more, are at the door:shall I let them in?

What, are you standing here, when you can hear all this calling?

Go and look after the guests inside. My lord, old Sir John,

with half a dozen more, is at the door: shall I let them in?

PRINCE.

Let them alone awhile, and then open the door.

[Exit Vintner.]

Pointz!

Leave them out there for a while, and then open the door.

Pointz!

[Re-enter Pointz.]

POINTZ.

Anon, anon, sir.

In a minute, sir.

PRINCE.

Sirrah, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are at the

door:shall we be merry?

Sir, Falstaff and the rest of the thieves are

outside: shall we have some fun?

POINTZ.

As merry as crickets, my lad. But hark ye; what cunning

match have you made with this jest of the drawer? Come,

what's the issue?

We’ll be as merry as crickets, my lad.But listen, what’s the big

idea with making fun of the barman like this?Come, what are you up to?

PRINCE.

I am now of all humours that have showed themselves humours

since the old days of goodman Adam to the pupil age of this

present twelve o'clock at midnight.--What's o'clock, Francis?

I’m in the mood to try every way of having fun ever

invented between good old Adam up to midnight

last night. – What’s the time, Francis?

FRAN.

[Within.]Anon, anon, sir.

In a minute, sir.

PRINCE.

That ever this fellow should have fewer words than a parrot, and

yet the son of a woman! His industry is up-stairs and down-stairs;

his eloquence the parcel of a reckoning. I am not yet of Percy's

mind, the Hotspur of the North; he that kills me some six or seven

dozen of Scots at a breakfast, washes his hands, and says to his wife,

Fie upon this quiet life! I want work. O my sweet Harry, says she,

how many hast thoukill'd to-day?Give my roan horse a drench,

says he; and answers, Some fourteen, an hour after,--a trifle, a

trifle.

I pr'ythee, call in Falstaff:I'll play Percy, and that damn'd

brawn shall play Dame Mortimer his wife. Rivo! says the drunkard.

Call in ribs, call in tallow.

[Enter Falstaff, Gadshill, Bardolph, and Peto; followed by

Francis with wine.]

It’s amazing that this fellow is a human being, when he has fewer

words than a parrot!All his efforts go into climbing the stairs,