The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (250 page)

Whatever happens, do not talk to him too harshly,

for he is proud and will not tolerate being  roughly spoken to.

BUCKINGHAM.

I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal

As all things shall redound unto your good.

I shall, my lord, and I don't doubt that I can arrange

everything for the best for you.

KING.

Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;

For yet may England curse my wretched reign.

Come, wife, let's go in, and learn to be better rulers;

England may still curse my wretched reign.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

[Enter CADE.]

CADE.

Fie on ambitions! fie on myself, that have a sword

and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in

these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid

for me; but now am I so hungry that if I might have a lease of

my life for a thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore,

on a brick wall have I climb'd into this garden, to see if I can

eat grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to

cool

a man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet'

was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my

brain-pain had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time,

when I have been dry and bravely marching, it hath served me

instead of a quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet'

must serve me to feed on.

Damn ambition! Damn myself, who has a sword

but is almost starving! I have hidden in the woods

for the last five days and have not dared look out, for the whole country

is looking for me; but now I am so hungry that I couldn't

stay here any longer if I was told I could live for a thousand years. So,

I've climbed over a brick wall into this garden, to see if I can

eat some grass, or gather a little salad, which isn't bad for

settling a man's stomach in this hot weather. And I think this word

“sallet” is a good word for me; for many times, without a sallet,

my head would have been split open by a pike; and many times,

when I have been thirsty and on the march, it has served instead

of a quart pot to drink with; and now I must feed on the word

salad.

[Enter IDEN.]

IDEN.

Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court,

And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?

This small inheritance my father left me

Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.

I seek not to wax great by others' waning,

Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy;

Sufficeth that I have maintains my state

And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.

Lord, who would live in the hurly-burly of the court,

when he can enjoy a quiet garden like this?

The small inheritance my father left me

is plenty for me, and as good as a Kingdom.

I don't want to become great through the fall of others,

or to accumulate wealth, without caring about the means;

it's enough that I have sufficient for the upkeep of my place,

and to send poor people away contented from my gate.

CADE.

Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a

stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave.--Ah, villain,

thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the king

by carrying my head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like

an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou

and I part.

Here's the owner of the place come to grab me as a

trespasser, for coming into his domain without permission.–

Ah, villain, you will betray me, and get a thousand crowns from the King

by taking my head to him; but I will make you eat iron like

an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a huge pin, before you

and I part.

IDEN.

Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, I know

thee not! why, then, should I betray thee?

Is 't not enough to break into my garden,

And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds,

Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,

But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

Why, my rude friend, whoever you are, I don't

know you! So why should I betray you?

Isn't it bad enough to break into my garden,

come to rob my produce like a thief,

climbing my walls in spite of me, the owner,

do you also have to insult me with these cheeky names?

CADE.

Brave thee? ay, by the best blood that ever was

broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat

no meat these five days; yet, come thou and thy five men,

and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray

God I may never eat grass more.

Insult you? I'll insult you in the name of the best blood

that was ever spilt, and defy you as well. Look closely at me:

I haven't had any meat for five days; but, if you and five

of your men attack me and I do not leave you all dead as door nails,

I pray to God that I will never eat grass again.

IDEN.

Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,

That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,

Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.

Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine,

See if thou canst outface me with thy looks.

Set limb to limb and thou art far the lesser;

Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,

Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;

My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;

And if mine arm be heaved in the air,

Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.

As for words, whose greatness answers words,

Let this my sword report what speech forbears.

No, it will never be said, while England exists,

that Alexander Iden, a squire of Kent,

needed help to fight a poor hungry man.

Look straight into my eyes with yours,

see if you can beat me down with your looks.

Compared limb to limb you are far smaller;

your hand is just a finger compared to my fist,

your leg is like a stick compared to my truncheon;

and if I lifted my arm against you

you would be as good as dead.

As for words, which can be answered with words,

I'll let my sword say what words cannot.

CADE.

By my valour, the most complete champion that

ever I heard!--Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out

the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in

thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou mayst be turn'd

to hobnails.--[Here they fight. Cade falls.]  O, I am slain!

famine and no other hath slain me; let ten thousand devils

come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost,

and I'd defy them all.--Wither, garden; and be henceforth a

burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because

the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

I swear, you're the greatest champion

I've ever heard! Steel, if you turn aside, or don't cut

this big boned clown into joints of beef before you

go back in your scabbard, I beg God on my knees that

you be turned into hob nails.

[Here they fight. Cade falls.]

Oh, I'm dead! It's only hunger that killed me:

if I could just have back the ten meals that I've missed

I could defeat ten thousand devils.

Wither, garden; from now on be a cemetery

for everyone who lives in this house, because the unbeaten

soul of Cade has gone.

IDEN.

Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?--

Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed,

And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead;

Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,

But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,

To emblaze the honour that thy master got.

Is it Cade that I've killed, that horrible traitor?

Sword, I will worship you for this deed,

and hang you over my tomb when I am dead;

I shall never wipe this blood off your point,

you shall wear it like a herald's uniform,

as a sign of the honour your master won.

CADE.

Iden, farewell; and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from

me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be

cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine,

not by valour.

Iden, farewell; be proud of your victory. Tell Kent from

me that she has lost her best man, and tell all the world they should be

cowards; for I, who was never scared of any man, have been defeated by hunger,

not by bravery.

[Dies.]

IDEN.

How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.

Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee;

And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,

So wish I I might thrust thy soul to hell.

Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels

Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave,

And there cut off thy most ungracious head,

Which I will bear in triumph to the king,

Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon.

Let heaven judge how much you are wronging me.

Die, dammed wretch, the shame of your mother;

and as I thrust through your body with my sword,

I wish I could thrust your soul into hell.

From here I shall drag you by the heels

to a dunghill, which will be your grave,

and there I will cut off your revolting head;

I shall take it away in triumph to the king,

and leave your body for the crows to eat.

[Exit.]