The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (149 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
4.23Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub

exceedingly good. Always give me a small, thin, old, dried up,

reject marksman. Well done indeed, Wart; you're a good rascal:

wait, here's a sixpence for you.

 

SHALLOW.

He is not his craft's master; he doth not do it right. I remember at

Mile-end Green, when I lay at Clement's Inn,--I was then Sir Dagonet in

Arthur's show,--there was a little quiver fellow, and a' would manage

you his piece thus; and a' would about and about, and come you in and

come you in:  "rah, tah, tah," would a' say; "bounce" would a' say; and

away again would a' go, and again would 'a come:  I shall ne'er see

such a fellow.

 

He's not the master of his craft; he's not doing it right. I remember

Mile End Green, when I was at Clement's Inn–I used to play the part of

Arthur's fool in a show–there was a little archer, and he would

show you his piece like this: he would go round and round,

out and back, “ta ra ra" he would say; he would say “bounce"; and

off he would go again, and then come back: I never saw

anyone like it.

 

FALSTAFF.

These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God keep you, Master Silence:

I will not use many words with you.  Fare you well, gentlemen both:

I thank you:  I must a dozen mile to-night.  Bardolph, give the soldiers

coats.

 

These fellows will do well. Master Shallow, God bless you, Master Silence:

I won't say too much to you. Farewell, both you gentlemen:

I thank you: I have to go a dozen miles tonight. Bardolph, give the soldiers

coats.

 

SHALLOW.

Sir John, the Lord bless you! God prosper your affairs!  God send us

peace! At your return visit our house; let our old acquaintance be

renewed:  peradventure I will with ye to the court.

 

Sir John, Lord bless you! May God make you prosperous! May God bring us

peace! When you come back, visit me; let our old friendship be

renewed: perhaps I'll go with you to court.

 

FALSTAFF.

'Fore God, I would you would.

 

By God, I wish you would.

 

SHALLOW.

Go to; I have spoke at a word. God keep you.

 

Off you go; I mean what I say. May God preserve you.

 

FALSTAFF.

Fare you well, gentle gentlemen.

[Exeunt Justices.]

On, Bardolph; lead the men away.

[Exeunt Bardolph, Recruits, &c.]

As I return, I will fetch off these justices:  I do see the bottom

of Justice Shallow.

Lord, Lord, how subject we old men are to this vice of lying!

This same starved justice hath done nothing but prate to me of the

wildness of his youth, and the feats he hath done about Turnbull

Street; and every third word a lie, duer paid to the hearer than the

Turk's tribute. I do remember him at Clement's Inn like a man made

after supper of a cheese-paring:  when a' was naked, he was, for all

the world, like a fork'd radish, with a head fantastically carved upon

it with a knife:  a' was so forlorn, that his dimensions to any thick

sight were invincible:  a' was the very genius of famine; yet lecherous

as a monkey, and the whores called him mandrake: a' came ever in the

rearward of the fashion, and sung those tunes to the overscutch'd

huswifes that he heard the carmen whistle, and sware they were his

fancies or his good-nights.

And now is this Vice's dagger become a squire, and talks as familiarly

of John a Gaunt as if he had been sworn brother to him; and I'll be

sworn a' ne'er saw him but once in the Tilt-yard; and then he burst

his head for crowding among the marshal's men.

I saw it, and told John a Gaunt he beat his own name; for you might

have thrust him and all his apparel into an eel-skin; the case of a

treble hautboy was a mansion for him, a court:  and now has he land

and beefs.

Well, I'll be acquainted with him, if I return; and it shall go hard

but I'll make him a philosopher's two stones to me:  if the young dace

be a bait for the old pike, I see no reason in the law of nature but I

may snap at him.

Let time shape, and there an end.

 

Farewell, gentle gentlemen.

On, Bardolph, take the men away.

When I come back I shall fleece these justices.

I can see right through this Justice Shallow. Lord,

Lord, how much we old men lie!

This skinny justice has done nothing

but chatted to me about how wild he was as a youth,

and the things he got up to round Turnbull Street,

and every third word is a lie, he is more rigourous in lying

than a Turk is in paying tribute. I can remember him at Clement's

Inn, like a man who was full after he'd had a bit of cheese rind.

When he was naked, he was for all the world

like a split radish, with a weird head carved on it

with a knife. He was so skinny that anyone with

bad eyesight couldn't see him; he was

the absolute example of famine, but as lecherous as a monkey,

and the whores called him a mandrake. He was always

behind the times, and sung tunes to

those worn out tarts that he had heard the

carters whistle, and swore that he had made them up.

And now this dirty old man has

become a squire, and talks as familiarly about John of

Gaunt as if he had been his brother, and

I'll swear he only ever saw him once at the

jousting, and then he got beaten on the head for

trying to push in the crowd. I saw what happened and told John of

Gaunt that he was beating his own name, for one could have

fitted him and all his clothes into an eel skin–the

case of a treble oboe was a mansion for him, a

court; and now he has land and cattle. Well, I'll

get to know him if I come back, and I'll be surprised

if I can't make him a source of great wealth for me.

If by the laws of nature the great ones gobble up

the little, I see no reason why I can't snap him up:

we'll see what happens, and that's the end of it.

 

[Exit.]

 

 

 

[Enter the Archbishop of York, Mowbray, Hastings, and others.]

 

ARCHBISHOP.

What is this forest call'd?

 

What's the name of this forest?

 

HASTINGS.

'Tis Gaultree Forest, an 't shall please your grace.

 

This is Gaultree Forest, if your grace pleases.

 

ARCHBISHOP.

Here stand, my lords; and send discoverers forth

To know the numbers of our enemies.

 

Wait here, my lords; send out spies

to find the numbers of the enemy forces.

 

HASTINGS.

We have sent forth already.

 

We've already sent them out.

 

ARCHBISHOP.

'Tis well done.

My friends and brethren in these great affairs,

I must acquaint you that I have received

New-dated letters from Northumberland;

Their cold intent, tenour and substance, thus:

Here doth he wish his person, with such powers

As might hold sortance with his quality,

The which he could not levy; whereupon

He is retired, to ripe his growing fortunes,

To Scotland: and concludes in hearty prayers

That your attempts may overlive the hazard

And fearful meeting of their opposite.

 

That's good.

My friends and brothers in these great matters,

I must let you know that I have received

fresh letters from Northumberland;

their chilly meaning, tone and substance is this:

he wishes that he was here with forces

which would match his nobility,

which he could not raise; so

he has retreated to Scotland until his

fortunes improve: he ends with hearty prayers

that your efforts might overcome the dangers

and fearful challenges of your enemies.

 

MOWBRAY.

Thus do the hopes we have in him touch ground

And dash themselves to pieces.

 

So the hopes we had in him hit the ground

and smash themselves to pieces.

 

[Enter a Messenger.]

 

HASTINGS.

Now, what news?

 

Now, what's the news?

 

MESSENGER.

West of this forest, scarcely off a mile,

In goodly form comes on the enemy;

And, by the ground they hide, I judge their number

Upon or near the rate of thirty thousand.

 

West of this forest, hardly a mile off,

the enemy is advancing in good order;

and, from the ground they cover, I judge there are

somewhere near thirty thousand of them.

 

MOWBRAY.

The just proportion that we gave them out.

Let us sway on and face them in the field.

 

The exact number that we expected.

Let's advance and face them on the battlefield.

 

ARCHBISHOP.

What well-appointed leader fronts us here?

 

Who is commanding their forces?

 

[Enter Westmoreland.]

 

MOWBRAY.

I think it is my Lord of Westmoreland.

 

I think it is my Lord of Westmorland.

 

WESTMORELAND.

Health and fair greeting from our general,

The prince, Lord John and Duke of Lancaster.

 

Other books

A Girl from Yamhill by Beverly Cleary
Profile of Evil by Alexa Grace
An American Bulldog by Liz Stafford
Tom Hyman by Jupiter's Daughter
Birdie For Now by Jean Little
Ogre, Ogre (Xanth 5) by Piers Anthony
The Dead Shall Not Rest by Tessa Harris