The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (119 page)

thou art altogether given over; and wert indeed, but for the light in

thy face, the son of utter darkness. When thou rann'st up Gad's-hill in

the night to catch my horse, if I did not think thou hadst been an ignis

fatuus or a ball of wildfire, there's no purchase in money. O, thou art

a perpetual triumph, an everlasting bonfire-light! Thou hast saved me a

thousand marks in links and torches, walking with thee in the night

betwixt tavern and tavern:but the sack that thou hast drunk me would

have bought me lights as good cheap at the dearest chandler's in Europe.

I have maintain'd that salamander of yours with fire any time this

two-and-thirty years; God reward me for it!

No, I swear; I make good use of it as many men do of

death's heads or Memento Mori: I never see your face without thinking of

hellfire, and Dives who lived in purple; for there he is in his robes,

burning, burning. If there was any virtue in you, I would swear

by your face; my oath would be, “By this fire, that's God's angel!": but

you have gone over completely to the other side, and apart from the light in your face,

you are the son of utter darkness. When you ran up Gadshill in

the night to catch my horse, if I didn't think you were an explosion or ball

lightning then money can't buy anything. Oh, you are

a permanent beacon, and everlasting bonfire! You have saved me a

thousand marks in flares and torches, walking with you at night

between taverns: but the sack that I have bought you would

have paid for lights at half the price from the most expensive shop in Europe.

I have provided fuel for that likes of yours for the past

thirty-two years; may God reward me for it!

BARD.

'Sblood, I would my face were in your stomach!

By God, I could wish it was burning up your stomach!

FAL.

God-a-mercy! so should I be sure to be heart-burn'd.--

[Enter the Hostess.]

How now, Dame Partlet the hen! have you enquir'd yet who

pick'd my pocket?

Lord have mercy! Then I would definitely have heartburn–

hello there, my old chicken! Have you found out yet who

picked my pocket?

HOST.

Why, Sir John, what do you think, Sir John? do you think I

keep thieves in my house? I have search'd, I have inquired,

so has my husband, man by man, boy by boy, servant by servant:

the tithe of a hair was never lost in my house before.

Why, Sir John, what do you think, St John? Do you think I'd

allow thieves in my house? I have looked, I have question,

so has my husband, every man, every boy, every servant:

no one ever lost the tenth of a hair before in my house.

FAL.

Ye lie, hostess:Bardolph was shaved, and lost many a hair; and

I'll be sworn my pocket was pick'd. Go to, you are a woman, go.

You're lying, landlady: Bardolph was shaved, and lost many hairs; and

I'll swear my pocket was picked. Get away, you are a woman, get away.

HOST.

Who, I? no; I defy thee:God's light, I was never call'd so in

mine own house before.

Who, me? No; I defy you; by God, I was never called that in

my own house before.

FAL.

Go to, I know you well enough.

Get away, I know you well enough.

HOST.

No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John:

you owe me money, Sir John; and now you pick a quarrel to beguile me

of it: I bought you a dozen of shirts to your back.

No, Sir John; you do not know me, Sir John. I know you, Sir John:

you owe me money, Sir John; and now you start a quarrel to take

my mind off it: I bought you a dozen shirts to wear.

FAL.

Dowlas, filthy dowlas:I have given them away to bakers' wives,

and they have made bolters of them.

The worst sort of rough cloth: I have given them away to bakers' wives,

and they have made them into pudding cloths.

HOST.

Now, as I am a true woman, holland of eight shillings an ell.

You owe money here besides, Sir John, for your diet and by-drinkings,

and money lent you, four-and-twenty pound.

Now, as I am an honest woman, they were made of fine lawn at eight shillings a yard.

You owe money here as well, Sir John, for your food and your drinks between meals,

and for money lent to you, twenty-four pounds.

FAL.

He had his part of it; let him pay.

He had some of it; let him pay.

HOST.

He? alas, he is poor; he hath nothing.

Him? Alas, he is poor; he has nothing.

FAL.

How! poor? look upon his face; what call you rich? let

them coin his nose, let them coin his cheeks:I'll not pay a

denier. What, will you make a younker of me? shall I not take

mine ease in mine inn, but I shall have my pocket pick'd? I have

lost a seal-ring of my grandfather's worth forty mark.

What! Poor? Look on his face; what do you call rich? Let them

stamp his nose, let them stamp his cheeks: I won't pay

a farthing. What, do you think I'm wet behind the ears? Can I not

relax in my own inn without having my pocket picked? I have

lost a signet ring of my grandfather's which was worth forty marks.

HOST.

O Jesu, I have heard the Prince tell him, I know not how oft,

that that ring was copper!

O Jesus, I don't know how often I've heard the Prince tell him

that that ring was made of copper!

FAL.

How! the Prince is a Jack, a sneak-cup:'sblood, an he were

here, I would cudgel him like a dog, if he would say so.--

[Enter Prince Henry and Pointz, marching.Falstaff meets them,

playing on his truncheon like a fife.]

How now, lad? is the wind in that door, i'faith? must we all

march?

What! The Prince is a knave, a sneaking rascal: by God, if he were

here, I would beat him like a dog, if he said that–

What's up, lad? Is that the way the wind blows, by God? Must we all

march?

BARD.

Yea, two-and-two, Newgate-fashion.

Yes, two by two, prison style.

HOST.

My lord, I pray you, hear me.

My Lord, I beg you, listen to me.

PRINCE.

What say'st thou, Mistress Quickly? How doth thy husband? I love

him well; he is an honest man.

What is it, Mistress Quickly? How is your husband? I like

him very much; he is an honest man.

HOST.

Good my lord, hear me.

My good lord, listen to me.

FAL.

Pr'ythee, let her alone, and list to me.

Please, ignore her, and listen to me.

PRINCE.

What say'st thou, Jack?

What are you saying, Jack?

FAL.

The other night I fell asleep here behind the arras, and had my

pocket pick'd:this house is turn'd bawdy-house; they pick pockets.

The other night I fell asleep here behind the curtain, and had my

pocket picked: this house has become a brothel; they pick pockets.

PRINCE.

What didst thou lose, Jack?

What did you lose, Jack?

FAL.

Wilt thou believe me, Hal? three or four bonds of forty pound

a-piece and a seal-ring of my grandfather's.

Will you believe me, Hal? Three or four bonds of forty pounds

each, and a signet ring of my grandfather's.

PRINCE.

A trifle, some eight-penny matter.

A trifle, worth about eightpence.

HOST.

So I told him, my lord; and I said I heard your Grace say so;

and, my lord, he speaks most vilely of you, like a foul-mouth'd

man as he is; and said he would cudgel you.

That's what I said to him, my lord; and I said I had heard your Grace say so;

and, my lord, he spoke horribly about you, like the foulmouthed

man he is; and he said he would beat you.

PRINCE.

What! he did not?

What! He didn't?

HOST.

There's neither faith, truth, nor womanhood in me else.

If I'm lying I have no faith, honesty or womanhood in me.

FAL.

There's no more faith in thee than in a stew'd prune; nor no more

truth in thee than in a drawn fox; and, for woman-hood, Maid Marian

may be the deputy's wife of the ward to thee. Go, you thing, go.

There is no more faith in you than in a common tart; no more

truth in you than in a hunted fox; and as for womanhood, maid Marian

would be a model of respectability compared to you. Go away, you object.

HOST.

Say, what thing? what thing?I am an honest man's wife:and,

setting thy knighthood aside, thou art a knave to call me so.

Object? Object? I am the wife of an honest man: and,

forgetting your knighthood, you are a knave to call me that.

FAL.

Setting thy womanhood aside, thou art a beast to say otherwise.

Forgetting your womanhood, you are a beast to say different.

HOST.

Say, what beast, thou knave, thou?

You're calling me a beast, you knave, what sort of beast?

FAL.

What beast!why, an otter.

What sort? Why, an otter.

PRINCE.

An otter, Sir John, why an otter?

An otter, Sir John, why an otter?

FAL.

Why, she's neither fish nor flesh; a man knows not where to have

her.

Why, she is neither fish nor meat; a man doesn't know how to take her.

HOST.

Thou art an unjust man in saying so; thou or any man knows where

to have me, thou knave, thou!

You are a dishonest man to say so; you or any man knows how

to take me, you knave, you!

PRINCE.

Thou say'st true, hostess; and he slanders thee most grossly.

You're telling the truth, landlady; and he is insulting you terribly.

HOST.

So he doth you, my lord; and said this other day you ought him a

thousand pound.

He does the same to you, my lord; he said the other day you owed him a

thousand pounds.

PRINCE.

Sirrah, do I owe you a thousand pound?

Sir, do I owe you a thousand pounds?

FAL.

A thousand pound, Hal! a million:thy love is worth a million;