The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (102 page)

Why, we'll set out before or after them, and arrange to meet

them somewhere, and we won't turn up; and

then they will take on the job themselves; and no sooner

than they've done it we'll attack them.

PRINCE.

Ay, but 'tis like that they will know us by our horses, by our

habits, and by every other appointment, to be ourselves.

Yes, but they'll probably recognise us by our horses, our

clothes, and every other sign.

POINTZ.

Tut! our horses they shall not see,--I'll tie them in the wood;

our visards we will change, after we leave them; and, sirrah, I

have cases of buckram for the nonce, to immask our noted

outward garments.

Tut!They won't see our horses - I'll tie them up in the wood;

we'll change our masks, after we have seen them; and, sir, I

have canvas overalls which we can use to cover up

our identifiable clothes.

PRINCE.

But I doubt they will be too hard for us.

But surely we can't overpower them?

POINTZ.

Well, for two of them, I know them to be as true-bred

cowards as ever turn'd back; and for the third, if he fight

longer than he sees reason, I'll forswear arms. The virtue of

this jest will be, the incomprehensible lies that this same fat

rogue will tell us when we meet at supper: how thirty, at least,

he fought with; what wards, what blows, what extremities he

endured; and in the reproof of this lies the jest.

Well, I know that two of them are the biggest cowards

who ever ran away; as for the third, if he fights when

he sees he can't win, I'll give up fighting.The great thing

in this joke will be listening to the incredible lies of

this fat rogue when we meet at supper; how he fought at least

thirty men; what defence, what attacks, what terrible things

he suffered; showing him to be a liar will be the joke.

PRINCE.

Well, I'll go with thee:provide us all things necessary and

meet me to-night in Eastcheap; there I'll sup. Farewell.

Well, I'll go with you: get all the things we need and

meet me tonight in Eastcheap; I'll dine there.Farewell.

POINTZ.

Farewell, my lord.

Farewell, my lord.

[Exit.]

PRINCE.

I know you all, and will awhile uphold

The unyok'd humour of your idleness:

Yet herein will I imitate the Sun,

Who doth permit the base contagious clouds

To smother-up his beauty from the world,

That, when he please again to be himself,

Being wanted, he may be more wonder'd at,

By breaking through the foul and ugly mists

Of vapours that did seem to strangle him.

If all the year were playing holidays,

To sport would be as tedious as to work;

But, when they seldom come, they wish'd-for come,

And nothing pleaseth but rare accidents.

So, when this loose behaviour I throw off,

And pay the debt I never promised,

By how much better than my word I am,

By so much shall I falsify men's hopes;

And, like bright metal on a sullen ground,

My reformation, glittering o'er my fault,

Shall show more goodly and attract more eyes

Than that which hath no foil to set it off.

I'll so offend, to make offence a skill;

Redeeming time, when men think least I will.

I know what you're all like, and for a while

I'll tolerate your lazy unchecked desires:

but in doing this I'll be like the sun,

who allows low pestilent clouds

to hide his beauty from the world,

so that when he wants to be himself again

he is more loved through his absence,

when he breaks through the foul ugly mist

and fog which seemed to strangle him.

If every day of the year was a holiday,

play would be as dull as work;

but when you don't have many, you look forward to them,

and nothing pleases like something out of the ordinary.

So, when I put a stop to this immoral behaviour,

and fulfil the promise I don't show now,

I shall be much better than men think,

I'll lower all their expectations;

like bright metal on a dull background,

my reformation, shining against my faults,

will look better and attract more people

than something which has no contrast to set it off.

I'll offend in a way which will be beneficial,

making amends when men least expect it.

[Exit.]

[Enter King Henry, Northumberland, Worcester, Hotspur, Sir Walter

Blunt, and others.]

KING.

My blood hath been too cold and temperate,

Unapt to stir at these indignities,

And you have found me; for, accordingly,

You tread upon my patience:but be sure

I will from henceforth rather be myself,

Mighty and to be fear'd, than my condition,

Which hath been smooth as oil, soft as young down,

And therefore lost that title of respect

Which the proud soul ne'er pays but to the proud.

I have been too patient and calm,

not reacting to these outrages,

and you have found me so; for you

are abusing my patience: but rest assured

from now on I will fit my position,

be mighty and fearsome, rather than follow my nature,

which has made me smooth as oil, soft as ducklings' feathers,

and so I have lost the respect

which the proud only ever give to their own kind.

WOR.

Our House, my sovereign liege, little deserves

The scourge of greatness to be used on it;

And that same greatness too which our own hands

Have holp to make so portly.

Our family, my royal lord, hardly deserves

to be attacked with such greatness;

the same greatness which we ourselves

helped to its current position.

NORTH.

My good lord,--

My good lord-

KING.

Worcester, get thee gone; for I do see

Danger and disobedience in thine eye:

O, sir, your presence is too bold and peremptory,

And majesty might never yet endure

The moody frontier of a servant brow.

You have good leave to leave us:when we need

Your use and counsel, we shall send for you.

[Exit Worcester.]

[To Northumberland.]

You were about to speak.

Worcester, get out; for I can see

threats and disobedience in your eyes:

oh, sir, you are too arrogant and bossy,

and a king might never see again such

angry defiance in a subject's frown.

You have my permission to go: when I need

you or your advice, I'll send for you.

You were about to speak.

NORTH.

Yea, my good lord.

Those prisoners in your Highness' name demanded,

Which Harry Percy here at Holmedon took,

Were, as he says, not with such strength denied

As is deliver'd to your Majesty:

Either envy, therefore, or misprision

Is guilty of this fault, and not my son.

Yes, my good lord.

Those prisoners which your Majesty requested,

which Harry Percy captured here at Holmedon;

he didn't, he says, deny your request in such

strong terms as your majesty has been told:

it's either jealousy or some misunderstanding that has

created this fault, not my son.

HOT.

My liege, I did deny no prisoners.

But, I remember, when the fight was done,

When I was dry with rage and extreme toil,

Breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

Came there a certain lord, neat, trimly dress'd,

Fresh as a bridegroom; and his chin new reap'd

Show'd like a stubble-land at harvest-home:

He was perfumed like a milliner;

And 'twixt his finger and his thumb he held

A pouncet-box, which ever and anon

He gave his nose, and took't away again;

Who therewith angry, when it next came there,

Took it in snuff:and still he smiled and talk'd;

And, as the soldiers bore dead bodies by,

He call'd them untaught knaves, unmannerly,

To bring a slovenly unhandsome corse

Betwixt the wind and his nobility.

With many holiday and lady terms

He question'd me; amongst the rest, demanded

My prisoners in your Majesty's behalf.

I then, all smarting with my wounds being cold,

Out of my grief and my impatience

To be so pester'd with a popinjay,

Answer'd neglectingly, I know not what,--

He should, or he should not; for't made me mad

To see him shine so brisk, and smell so sweet,

And talk so like a waiting-gentlewoman

Of guns and drums and wounds,--God save the mark!--

And telling me the sovereign'st thing on Earth

Was parmaceti for an inward bruise;

And that it was great pity, so it was,

This villainous salt-petre should be digg'd

Out of the bowels of the harmless earth,

Which many a good tall fellow had destroy'd

So cowardly; and, but for these vile guns,

He would himself have been a soldier.

This bald unjointed chat of his, my lord,

I answered indirectly, as I said;

And I beseech you, let not his report

Come current for an accusation

Betwixt my love and your high Majesty.

My Lord, I didn't refuse to deliver any prisoners,

but I remember, when the battle was over,

when I was dry with rage, and extreme effort,

breathless and faint, leaning upon my sword,

a certain Lord came, neatly and primly dressed,

fresh as a bridegroom, with his newly shaved chin

looking like a cornfield at harvest time.

He was perfumed like a haberdasher,

and between his finger and thumb he held