The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (146 page)

(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 necessities:

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,

Feeble, Bullcalf, a Servant or two with them.]

SHALLOW.

Come on, come on, come on, sir; give me your hand, sir,

give me your hand, sir:  an early stirrer, by the rood! And how

doth my good cousin Silence?

Come on, come on, come on, ; give me your hand, sir,

give me your hand, sir: you're up early, by goodness!

And how is my good cousin Silence?

SILENCE.

Good morrow, good cousin Shallow.

Good morning, good cousin Shallow.

SHALLOW.

And how doth my cousin, your bedfellow? and your fairest

daughter and mine, my god-daughter Ellen?

And how is my cousin, your bedmate? And your sweetest

daughter, mine too, my goddaughter Ellen?

SILENCE.

Alas, a black ousel, cousin Shallow!

Alas, she's a chattering blackbird, cousin Shallow!

SHALLOW.

By yea and nay, sir, I dare say my cousin William is become

a good scholar: he is at Oxford still, is he not?

Whatever the case, Sir, I daresay my cousin William has

become a good scholar: he's still at Oxford, isn't he?

SILENCE.

Indeed, sir, to my cost.

He is, sir, at my expense.

SHALLOW.

A' must, then, to the inns o' court shortly. I was once of

Clement's Inn, where I think they will talk of mad Shallow yet.

Then he must soon go to the Inns of Court. I was once a member

of Clement's Inn, where I think they still talk about mad Shallow.

SILENCE.

You were called "lusty Shallow" then, cousin.

You were called “lusty Shallow" then, cousin.

SHALLOW.

By the mass, I was called any thing; and I would have done any thing

indeed too, and roundly too. There was I, and little John Doit of

Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and

Will Squele, a Cotswold man; you had not four such swinge-bucklers in

all the inns o' court again:  and I may say to you, we knew where the

bona-robas were and had the best of them all at commandment. Then was

Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, boy, and page to Thomas Mowbray, Duke of

Norfolk.

I swear, they called me anything; and I would have done anything

too; there was me and little John Doit of

Staffordshire, and black George Barnes, and Francis Pickbone, and

Will Squele, from the Cotswolds; there will never be four such swashbucklers

ever again in the Inns of Court: and I can tell you, we knew where the

best tarts were, and we had the best of them all at our command.

Then there was Jack Falstaff, now Sir John, who was a boy, page to

Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

SILENCE.

This Sir John, cousin, that comes hither anon about soldiers?

The same Sir John, cousin, who is coming here soon to get soldiers?

SHALLOW.

The same Sir John, the very same. I see him break Scoggin's head at the

court-gate, when a' was a crack not thus high:  and the very same

day did I fight with one Sampson Stockfish, a fruiterer, behind

Gray's Inn.

Jesu, Jesu, the mad days that I have spent! and to see how many of my

old acquaintance are dead!

The same Sir John, the very same. I saw him break Scoggin's head

at the gates of the court, when he was just a lad, not this high: and

that very same day I fought with a man called Sampson Stockfish,

a greengrocer, behind Gray's Inn.

Jesus, Jesus, the mad days that I have had! And to think how many of my

old friends are dead!

SILENCE.

We shall all follow, cousin.

We shall go the same way, cousin.

SHALLOW.

Certain, 'tis certain; very sure, very sure:  death, as the Psalmist

saith, is certain to all; all shall die. How a good yoke of bullocks at

Stamford fair?

That's absolutely true, it's certain: death, as the Psalmist

says, comes to us all; we shall all die. How much is a good pair of

bullocks fetching at Stamford fair?

SILENCE.

By my troth, I was not there.

I swear, I wasn't there.

SHALLOW.

Death is certain. Is old Double of your town living yet?

Death comes to us all. Is old Double from your town still alive?

SILENCE.

Dead, sir.

He's dead, sir.

SHALLOW.

Jesu, Jesu, dead! a' drew a good bow; and dead! a' shot a fine shoot:

John a Gaunt loved him well, and betted much money on his head.

Dead! a' would have clapped i' the clout at twelve score; and carried

you a forehand shaft a fourteen and fourteen and a half, that it

would have done a man's heart good to see.  How a score of ewes now?

Jesus, Jesus, dead! He was a good archer; and he's dead! He was a good shot:

John of Gaunt thought highly of him, and bet a lot of money on him.

Dead! He could hit the target at two hundred yards; and fired his arrows

straight for three hundred, in a way that it

did a man's heart good to see. How much are twenty ewes?

SILENCE.

Thereafter as they be:  a score of good ewes may be worth ten

pounds.

It depends on the quality: twenty good ones might be worth ten pounds.

SHALLOW.

And is old Double dead?

And old Double is dead?

SILENCE.

Here come two of Sir John Falstaffs men, as I think.

I think these are two of Sir John Falstaff's men.

[Enter Bardolph, and one with him.]

BARDOLPH.

Good morrow, honest gentlemen:  I beseech you, which is justice

Shallow?

Good morning, good gentlemen: can you please tell me, which of you

is justice Shallow?

SHALLOW.

I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor esquire of this county, and one

of the king's justices of the peace:  what is your good pleasure

with me?

I am Robert Shallow, sir; a poor squire from this county, and one

of the King's justices of the peace: what can I do for you?

BARDOLPH.

My captain, sir, commends him to you; my captain, Sir John

Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a most gallant leader.

My captain, Sir, sends you his greetings; my captain, Sir John

Falstaff, a tall gentleman, by heaven, and a very brave leader.