The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (153 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
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and let them march past us before they are dismissed.

 

[Exit Hastings.]

 

LANCASTER.

I trust, lords, we shall lie to-night together.

[Re-enter Westmoreland.]

Now, cousin, wherefore stands our army still?

 

I trust, Lords, that we shall stay in the same place tonight.

Now, cousin, why hasn't our army moved?

 

WESTMORELAND.

The leaders, having charge from you to stand,

Will not go off until they hear you speak.

 

The leaders, having orders from you to stay here,

will not leave until they hear you tell them to.

 

LANCASTER.

They know their duties.

 

They know their duty.

 

[Re-enter Hastings.]

 

HASTINGS.

My lord, our army is dispersed already:

Like youthful steers unyoked, they take their courses

East, west, north, south; or, like a school broke up,

Each hurries toward his home and sporting-place.

 

My Lord, our army has already dispersed:

like young steers set free, they have headed

east, west, north and south; or, they are like a school breaking up,

each one hurrying back to his home and amusements.

 

WESTMORELAND.

Good tidings, my Lord Hastings; for the which

I do arrest thee, traitor, of high treason:

And you, lord archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,

Of capital treason I attach you both.

 

Good news, my Lord Hastings; for which

I arrest you, traitor, for high treason:

and you, Lord Archbishop, and you, Lord Mowbray,

I arrest you both for capital treason

 

MOWBRAY.

Is this proceeding just and honourable?

 

Is this a just and honourable way to behave?

 

WESTMORELAND.

Is your assembly so?

 

Is your gathering just and honourable?

 

ARCHBISHOP.

Will you thus break your faith?

 

Is this how you will break your promise?

 

LANCASTER.

I pawn'd thee none:

I promised you redress of these same grievances

Whereof you did complain; which, by mine honour,

I will perform with a most Christian care.

But for you, rebels, look to taste the due

Meet for rebellion and such acts as yours.

Most shallowly did you these arms commence,

Fondly brought here and foolishly sent hence.

Strike up our drums, pursue the scattr'd stray:

God, and not we, hath safely fought to-day.

Some guard these traitors to the block of death,

Treason's true bed and yielder up of breath.

 

I gave you no promises on this matter:

I promised you that I would deal with those grievances

which you complained of; which, I swear,

I shall do to my very best ability.

But as for you, rebels, you must expect the punishment

which rebellion and acts such as yours deserve.

You were idiotic to raise these forces,

stupid to bring them here and foolish to send them away.

Strike up our drums, round up the stragglers:

it was God, not us, who fought the good fight today.

Some of you guard these traitors until we can get them to the block,

the true resting place of treason, where they shall surrender their breath.

 

[Exeunt.]

 

 

[Alarum.  Excursions. Enter Falstaff and Colevile, meeting.]

 

FALSTAFF.

What 's your name, sir? of what condition are you, and of

what place, I pray?

 

What's your name, sir? What's your rank, and

where are you from?

 

COLEVILE.

I am a knight sir; and my name is Colevile of the Dale.

 

I am a knight, Sir; and my name is Colevile of the Dale.

 

FALSTAFF.

Well, then, Colevile is your name, a knight is your degree, and

your place the dale:  Colevile shall be still your name, a traitor

your degree, and the dungeon your place, a place deep enough; so

shall you be still Colevile of the dale.

 

Well then, Colevile is your name, you have the rank of knight,

and you come from the Dale: Colevile will still be your name,

your rank will be traitor, and your home will be the dungeon,

a pretty deep place,

so you will still be Colevile from the Dale.

 

COLEVILE.

Are not you Sir John Falstaff?

 

Aren't you Sir John Falstaff?

 

FALSTAFF.

As good a man as he, sir, whoe'er I am. Do ye yield, sir? or shall I

sweat for you? If I do sweat, they are the drops of thy lovers, and

they weep for thy death:  therefore rouse up fear and trembling,

and do observance to my mercy.

 

I'm as good a man as he is, sir, whoever I am. Do you surrender, sir?

Or shall I have to sweat to catch you? If I have to sweat, it will be

the tears of those who love you, as they weep for your death:

so show fear and trembling, and accept my mercy.

 
 

COLEVILE.

I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and in that thought yield me.

 

I think you are Sir John Falstaff, and because of that I surrender.

 

FALSTAFF.

I have a whole school of tongues in this belly of mine, and not a

tongue of them all speaks any other word but my name.  An I had but

a belly of any indifferency, I were simply the most active fellow in

Europe:  my womb, my womb, my womb undoes me.

Here comes our general.

 

My fat belly gives me away in every language of the world,

and not a single language says any other word but my name.

If I only had a normal belly, I would just be the best soldier in

Europe: it’s my stomach that always gives me away.

Here comes our general.

 

[Enter Prince John of Lancaster, Westmoreland, Blunt, and

others.]

 

LANCASTER.

The heat is past; follow no further now:

Call in the powers, good cousin Westmoreland.

[Exit Westmoreland.]

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this while?

When everything is ended, then you come:

These tardy tricks of yours will, on my life,

One time or other break some gallows' back.

 

The battle is over; don't chase them any further now:

call back our forces, good cousin Westmoreland.

Now, Falstaff, where have you been all this time?

You always arrive when everything is over:

I swear that this trick of lateness of yours

will at some time mean you end up on the gallows.

 

FALSTAFF.

I would be sorry, my lord, but it should be thus: I never knew yet

but rebuke and check was the reward of valour. Do you think me a

swallow, an arrow, or a bullet? have I, in my poor and old motion,

the expedition of thought? I have speeded hither with the very

extremest inch of possibility; I have foundered nine score and odd

posts:  and here, travel-tainted as I am, have, in my pure and

immaculate valour, taken Sir John Colevile of the dale, a most furious

knight and valorous enemy. But what of that? he saw me, and yielded;

that I may justly say, with the hook-nosed fellow of Rome, "I came,

saw, and overcame."

 

I would be sorry, my lord, but this is how it is: I didn't know

that scolding and criticism was the reward for valour. Do you think I am

a swallow, an arrow, or bullet? Can I, poor old man that I am,

move as swiftly as thought? I have rushed here as fast as I

possibly could; I have exhausted a hundred and eighty odd

horses: and here, exhausted by travel as I am, I have, with my pure and

immaculate bravery, captured Sir John Colevile of the Dale, a

very strong knight and a brave enemy. But what of that? He saw me, and surrendered;

so I can justifiably say, along with Julius Caesar, “I came,

I saw, I conquered."

 

LANCASTER.

It was more of his courtesy than your deserving.

 

That was more through his courtesy than your deserving it.

 

FALSTAFF.

I know not:  here he is, and here I yield him:  and I beseech your

grace, let it be booked with the rest of this day's deeds; or, by the

Lord, I will have it in a particular ballad else, with mine own

picture on the top on't, Colevile kissing my foot:  to the which

course if I be enforced, if you do not all show like gilt twopences to

me, and I in the clear sky of fame o'ershine you as much as the full

moon doth the cinders of the element, which show like pins' heads to

her, believe not the word of the noble:  therefore let me have right,

and let desert mount.

 

I don't know: here  he is, and here I hand him over: and I beg your

Grace, let it be written down with the rest of the deeds of this day; or, by the

Lord, I will have it made up into a ballad otherwise, with my own picture

on top of the songsheet, with Colevile kissing my foot: if I am

forced to do this, if you don't all look like forged twopenny bits

in comparison to me, and if I don't outshine you in the clear sky of fame

as much as the full moon does the dying embers of the sky, which look like

pinheads in comparison, never believe the word of the noble: so give me my rights,

let my reputation rise.

 

LANCASTER.

Thine 's too heavy to mount.

 

Yours is too heavy to rise.

 

FALSTAFF.

Let it shine, then.

 

Let it shine, then.

 

LANCASTER.

Thine 's too thick to shine.

 

It's too thick to shine.

 

FALSTAFF.

Let it do something, my good lord, that may do me good, and

call it what you will.

 

Let it do something, my good lord, that might do me good, and

you can call it what you want.

 

LANCASTER.

Is thy name Colevile?

 

Is your name Colevile?

 

COLEVILE.

It is, my lord.

 

It is, my lord.

 

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