Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
in such fast moving times?Who’s leading his forces?
Who is directing them as they come?
MESS.
His letters bears his mind, not I, my lord.
His letters say what he thinks, my lord, not me.
WOR.
I pr'ythee, tell me, doth he keep his bed?
Please tell me, is he bedridden?
MESS.
He did, my lord, four days ere I set forth,
And at the time of my departure thence
He was much fear'd by his physicians.
He was, my lord, for four days before I set out,
and when I left there
his doctors feared for his life.
WOR.
I would the state of time had first been whole
Ere he by sickness had been visited:
His health was never better worth than now.
I wish these matters has come to fruition
before he became ill:
he would have been very valuable to us.
HOT.
Sick now! droop now! this sickness doth infect
The very life-blood of our enterprise;
'Tis catching hither, even to our camp.
He writes me here, that inward sickness,--
And that his friends by deputation could not
So soon be drawn; no did he think it meet
To lay so dangerous and dear a trust
On any soul removed, but on his own.
Yet doth he give us bold advertisement,
That with our small conjunction we should on,
To see how fortune is disposed to us;
For, as he writes, there is no quailing now,
Because the King is certainly possess'd
Of all our purposes. What say you to it?
Ill now!Flagging now!This sickness infects
the very heart of our plans;
it will affect us even here in our camp.
He writes to me of his illness –
and that he couldn’t get any friends to stand in
for him at such short notice; nor did he think
it fitting to lay such a dangerous and important task
on anyone but himself.
but he gives us very strong advice
to proceed with our plans,
to see what fortune might bring;
for, as he writes, there is no going back now,
because the King certainly has information
about our intentions.What do you say?
WOR.
Your father's sickness is a maim to us.
Your father’s sickness is a setback.
HOT.
A perilous gash, a very limb lopp'd off:--
And yet, in faith, 'tis not; his present want
Seems more than we shall find it. Were it good
To set the exact wealth of all our states
All at one cast? to set so rich a main
On the nice hazard of one doubtful hour?
It were not good; for therein should we read
The very bottom and the soul of hope,
The very list, the very utmost bound
Of all our fortunes.
A great wound, like losing a limb-
but really, it isn’t; his absence seems worse
than it will turn out.Would it have been good
to risk all our forces with a single
throw of the dice?To take such a great gamble
on the chances of one doubtful hour?
It wouldn’t be good; for then we could face
absolute defeat, all our hopes
vanishing in one go.
DOUG.
Faith, and so we should;
Where now remains a sweet reversion;
And we may boldly spend upon the hope
Of what is to come in:
A comfort of retirement lives in this.
Indeed, that’s right;
now we have something in reserve,
and we can be bold with what we have
knowing we have reserves coming;
if we have to retreat we will have something to fall back on.
HOT.
A rendezvous, a home to fly unto,
If that the Devil and mischance look big
Upon the maidenhead of our affairs.
A meeting place, a place to escape,
if the Devil and bad luck work against
our first efforts.
WOR.
But yet I would your father had been here.
The quality and hair of our attempt
Brooks no division:it will be thought
By some, that know not why he is away,
That wisdom, loyalty, and mere dislike
Of our proceedings, kept the earl from hence:
And think how such an apprehension
May turn the tide of fearful faction,
And breed a kind of question in our cause;
For well you know we of the offering side
Must keep aloof from strict arbitrement,
And stop all sight-holes, every loop from whence
The eye of reason may pry in upon us.
This absence of your father's draws a curtain,
That shows the ignorant a kind of fear
Before not dreamt of.
But I still wish your father was here.
The sort of thing we are attempting
isn't suited to division: it will be thought
by some, who don't know why he is not here,
that wisdom, loyalty, and dislike for
our plans, keep the Earl away:
imagine how such thoughts
might make those who are afraid
run away, questioning our cause;
for you know that we who are attacking
must not think about making judgements,
and keep ourselves from every circumstance
where men can start to think about what they are doing.
Your father's absence draws back the curtain
to show the ignorant a kind of fear
they hadn't imagined before.
HOT.
Nay, you strain too far.
I, rather, of his absence make this use:
It lends a lustre and more great opinion,
A larger dare to our great enterprise,
Than if the earl were here; for men must think,
If we, without his help, can make a head
To push against the kingdom, with his help
We shall o'erturn it topsy-turvy down.
Yet all goes well, yet all our joints are whole.
No, you're making too much of it.
I take his absence to mean this:
it makes our great enterprise more daring,
polishes it, makes men think better of it,
than if the Earl were here; for people will think
that if we, without his help, can start
to unbalance his kingdom, with his help
we can turn the whole thing upside down.
Everything is still going well, we are still unwounded.
DOUG.
As heart can think:there is not such a word
Spoke in Scotland as this term of fear.
All is as well as can be: we don't know
the word fear in Scotland.
[Enter Sir Richard Vernon.]
HOT.
My cousin Vernon! welcome, by my soul.
My cousin Vernon! I give you my warmest welcome.
VER.
Pray God my news be worth a welcome, lord.
The Earl of Westmoreland, seven thousand strong,
Is marching hitherwards; with him Prince John.
I pray to God my news may deserve that welcome, Lord.
The Earl of Westmorland, with seven thousand soldiers,
is marching towards you; Prince John is with him.
HOT.
No harm:what more?
That's not a problem: what else?
VER.
And further, I have learn'd
The King himself in person is set forth,
Or hitherwards intended speedily,
With strong and mighty preparation.
And more, I have learned
that the King himself has set out,
or intends to do so soon,
with a very strong force.
HOT.
He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
The nimble-footed madcap Prince of Wales,
And his comrades, that daff the world aside,
And bid it pass?
He shall be welcome too. Where is his son,
that swift lunatic Prince of Wales,
and his comrades that reject the world,
letting it pass by them?
VER.
All furnish'd, all in arms;
All plumed like estridges that with the wind
Bate it; like eagles having lately bathed;
Glittering in golden coats, like images;
As full of spirit as the month of May
And gorgeous as the Sun at midsummer;
Wanton as youthful goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry--with his beaver on,
His cuisses on his thighs, gallantly arm'd--
Rise from the ground like feather'd Mercury,
And vault it with such ease into his seat,
As if an angel dropp'd down from the clouds,
To turn and wind a fiery Pegasus,
And witch the world with noble horsemanship.
They are all ready, they have all taken up arms;
all plumed like ostriches beating their wings against
the wind; like newly bathed eagles;
glittering in golden coats, like statues;
as full of spirit as the month of May
and as gorgeous as the Midsummer sun;
as lusty as young goats, wild as young bulls.
I saw young Harry–with his helmet on,
his thigh armour, strongly armed–
leap from the ground like feathered Mercury,
jumping so easily into his saddle
as if an angel had dropped down from the clouds
to turn and wheel a fiery Pegasus,
and bewitch the whole world with his noble horsemanship.
HOT.
No more, no more:worse than the Sun in March,
This praise doth nourish agues. Let them come;
They come like sacrifices in their trim,
And to the fire-eyed maid of smoky war,
All hot and bleeding, will we offer them:
The mailed Mars shall on his altar sit
Up to the ears in blood. I am on fire
To hear this rich reprisal is so nigh,
And yet not ours.--Come, let me taste my horse,
Who is to bear me, like a thunderbolt,
Against the bosom of the Prince of Wales:
Harry and Harry shall, hot horse to horse,
Meet, and ne'er part till one drop down a corse.--
O, that Glendower were come!
That's enough: your praise causes shudders
worse than the March sun. Let them come;
they come dressed up like sacrifices,
and we shall offer them, hot and bleeding
to the fiery eyed goddess of smoky war:
Mars shall sit on his altar in his armour
up to the ears in blood. I am desperate,
hearing that such a rich prize is nearby
and we haven't taken it.–Come, let me get my horse,
who will carry me, like a thunderbolt,
face-to-face with the Prince of Wales:
Harry and Harry shall meet, horse to horse,
and they won't part until one of them drops down dead.
Oh, I wish Glendower were here!