The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (140 page)

"I am the king's poor cousin, sir."

“John Falstaff, knight,"–every man must know that,

he is always talking about himself: he's like those who are

related to the King; they can never prick their finger without saying,

“Some royal blood has been spilt."

And someone who doesn't understand says “Why is that?"

And the answer is as ready as a beggar's cap,

“I am the King's poor cousin, sir."

PRINCE.

Nay, they will be kin to us, or they will fetch it from Japhet.

But to the letter:

No, they will insist they are related to us, even if it's only through Japhet.

But go on with the letter.

POINS.

[Reads] "Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the king,

nearest his father, Harry Prince of Wales, greeting."  Why, this

is a certificate.

“Sir John Falstaff, knight, to the son of the King,

his father's closest relative, Harry Prince of Wales, my greetings.”

Why, this is like a royal letter.

PRINCE.

Peace!

Quiet!

POINS.

[Reads.] "I will imitate the honourable Romans in brevity:"  he sure

means brevity in breath, short-winded.  "I commend me to thee, I commend

thee, and I leave thee. Be not too familiar with Poins; for he misuses

thy favours so much, that he swears thou art to marry his sister Nell.

Repent at idle times as thou mayest; and so, farewell.

"Thine, by yea and no, which is as much as to say, as thou

usest him,

JACK FALSTAFF with my familiars, JOHN with my brothers and

sisters, and SIR JOHN with all Europe."

My lord, I'll steep this letter in sack and make him eat it.

“I will be as brief as the honourable Romans:”

he must mean that  he's short of breath. “I give you

my greetings and approval, I am going away. Do not

get too close to Poins; for he abuses your kindness

so much that he swears you are going to marry his sister Nell.

When you have spare time use it for repentance; and so, farewell.

Yours, yea or nay, in other words however you like,

Jack Falstaff to my friends, John to my brothers and sisters,

and Sir John throughout Europe."

My Lord, I'll soak this letter in sack and make him eat it.

PRINCE.

That 's to make him eat twenty of his words. But do you use

me thus, Ned? must I marry your sister?

That would certainly make him eat his words. But is this true,

Ned? Am I going to marry your sister?

POINS.

God send the wench no worse fortune! But I never said so.

I hope to God the girl doesn't get anyone worse! But I never said it.

PRINCE.

Well, thus we play the fools with the time, and the spirits of the

wise sit in the clouds and mock us. Is your master here in London?

Well, this is the way we pass the time, and the ghosts of the

wise sit in the clouds and laugh at us. Is your master here in London?

BARDOLPH.

Yea, my lord.

Yes, my lord.

PRINCE.

Where sups he? doth the old boar feed in the old frank?

Where is he eating? Is the old pig still feeding in the old sty?

BARDOLPH.

At the old place, my lord, in Eastcheap.

At the old place, my Lord, in Eastcheap.

PRINCE.

What company?

Who's he with?

PAGE.

Ephesians, my lord, of the old church.

Some of his old pals, my lord.

PRINCE.

Sup any women with him?

Are there any women eating with him?

PAGE.

None, my lord, but old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.

Nobody, my lord, apart from old Mistress Quickly and Mistress Doll Tearsheet.

PRINCE.

What pagan may that be?

What pagan is she?

PAGE.

A proper gentlewoman, sir, and a kinswoman of my master's.

A proper gentlewoman, Sir, a relative of my master's.

PRINCE.

Even such kin as the parish heifers are to the town bull.  Shall

we steal upon them, Ned, at supper?

Related in the same way as the cows of the parish

are to the town bull. Shall we sneak up on them, Ned, at supper?

POINS.

I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.

I am your shadow, my lord; I'll follow you.

PRINCE.

Sirrah, you boy, and Bardolph, no word to your master that

I am yet come to town:  there's for your silence.

Sir, boy, and Bardolph, don't tell your master that

I have already come to town: take this to keep silent.

BARDOLPH.

I have no tongue, sir.

I won't  say a word, sir.

PAGE.

And for mine, sir, I will govern it.

I'll make sure I don't either.

PRINCE.

Fare you well; go.

[Exeunt Bardolph and Page.]

This Doll Tearsheet should be some road.

Farewell; go.

This Doll Tearsheet must be some whore.

POINS.

I warrant you, as common as the way between Saint Alban's and London.

I promise you, as well travelled as the road between St Albans and London.

PRINCE.

How might we see Falstaff bestow himself to-night in his true

colours, and not ourselves be seen?

How can we get Falstaff to show himself in his true colours tonight,

without his  recognising us?

POINS.

Put on two leathern jerkins and aprons, and wait upon him at

his table as drawers.

We'll put on two leather jerkins and aprons, and serve

at his table as barmen.

PRINCE.

From a God to a bull? a heavy descension! it was Jove's case.

From a prince to a prentice? a low transformation! that shall be

mine; for in everything the purpose must weigh with the folly.

Follow me, Ned.

From a God to a bull? That's a heavy fall! That was what Jove did.

From a prince to a working man? That's a low exchange!

That's what I'll do, for we must play the game fully.

Follow me, Ned.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter Northumberland, Lady Northumberland, and Lady Percy.]

NORTHUMBERLAND.

I pray thee, loving wife, and gentle daughter,

Give even way unto my rough affairs;

Put not you on the visage of the times

And be like them to Percy troublesome.

Please, loving wife and gentle daughter,

make my difficult position as easy as you can;

don't take on the general feeling of the times

and  be troublesome to Percy like they are.

LADY NORTHUMBERLAND.

I have given over, I will speak no more:

Do what you will; your wisdom be your guide.

I have given up, I will say no more:

do what you want; be guided by your wisdom.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at pawn;

And, but my going, nothing can redeem it.

Alas, sweet wife, my honour is at stake;

I can only save it by going.

LADY PERCY.

O yet, for God's sake, go not to these wars!

The time was, father, that you broke your word,

When you were more endear'd to it than now!

When your own Percy, when my heart's dear Harry,

Threw many a northward look to see his father

Bring up his powers; but he did long in vain.

Who then persuaded you to stay at home?

There were two honours lost, yours and your son's.

For yours, the God of heaven brighten it!

For his, it stuck upon him as the sun

In the grey vault of heaven; and by his light

Did all the chivalry of England move

To do brave acts:  he was indeed the glass

Wherein the noble youth did dress themselves:

He had no legs that practis'd not his gait;

And speaking thick, which nature made his blemish,

Became the accents of the valiant;

For those who could speak low and tardily

Would turn their own perfection to abuse,

To seem like him: so that in speech, in gait,

In diet, in affections of delight,

In military rules, humours of blood,

He was the mark and glass, copy and book,

That fashion'd others. And him, O wondrous him!

O miracle of men! him did you leave,

Second to none, unseconded by you,

To look upon the hideous god of war

In disadvantage; to abide a field

Where nothing but the sound of Hotspur's name

Did seem defensible:  so you left him.

Never, O never, do his ghost the wrong

To hold your honour more precise and nice

With others than with him! let them alone:

The marshal and the archbishop are strong:

Had my sweet Harry had but half their numbers,

To-day might I, hanging on Hotspur's neck,

Have talk'd of Monmouth's grave.

But for God's sake, do not go to these wars!

There was a time, father, when you broke your word

when it was more dishonourable to do so than it is now;

when your own Percy, my own dear Harry,

kept looking northward, expecting his father

to bring his forces; but he waited in vain.

Who persuaded you then to stay home?

Two honours were lost, yours and your son's.

As for yours, may the God of heaven make it brighter!

For his, it hung on him as the sun hangs

in the sky, and his bright light motivated

all the chivalrous men in England

to do brave things. He was the model

for all noble youths. Everyone copied his way of walking;

and speaking impetuously, which was the fault nature gave him,