The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 89
DOLL.
For God's sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot endure such a
fustian rascal.
For God’s sake, thrown him down the stairs: I can't put up with
such a foolish rascal.
PISTOL.
Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?
Throw him down the stairs? Don't we know a tart when we see one?
FALSTAFF.
Quoit him down, Bardolph, like a shove-groat shilling:
nay, an a' do nothing but speak nothing, a' shall be nothing
here.
Throw him down, Bardolph, like a coin on a shuffleboard:
no, whatever he's going to do, he shan't do it here.
BARDOLPH.
Come, get you down stairs.
Come, down the stairs with you.
PISTOL.
What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
[Snatching up his sword.]
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days!
Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds
Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
What! Are we going to have a bloodletting?
[Snatching up his sword]
Then let death put me to sleep, finish my sorrowful days!
Let horrible gaping wounds do the work
of fate! Come on fate, I say!
HOSTESS.
Here's goodly stuff toward!
Here's a nice business!
FALSTAFF.
Give me my rapier, boy.
Give me my rapier, boy.
DOLL.
I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
Please, Jack, please don't take your sword out.
FALSTAFF.
Get you down stairs.
Get downstairs.
[Drawing, and driving Pistol out.]
HOSTESS.
Here's a goodly tumult! I'll forswear keeping house, afore
I'll be in these tirrits and frights. So; murder, I warrant now.
Alas, alas! put up your naked weapons, put up your naked weapons.
Here's a nice racket! I'll give up innkeeping, before
putting up with these terrors and frights. I daresay there will be murder now.
Alas, alas! Put away your drawn weapons, put them away.
[Exeunt Pistol and Bardolph.]
DOLL.
I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal's gone. Ah, you whoreson
little valiant villain, you!
Pleas, Jack, be calm; the rascal has gone. Ah,
you brave little bastard, you!
HOSTESS.
Are you not hurt i' the groin? methought a' made a shrewd
thrust at your belly.
Haven't you been hurt in the groin? I thought he made a cunning
stab at your belly.
[Re-enter Bardolph.]
FALSTAFF.
Have you turned him out o' doors?
Have you thrown him out?
BARDOLPH.
Yea, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have hurt him, sir, i'
the shoulder.
Yes, sir. The rascal's drunk: you have wounded him, Sir,
in the shoulder.
FALSTAFF.
A rascal! to brave me!
What a rascal! To challenge me!
DOLL.
Ah, you sweet little rogue, you! Alas, poor ape, how thou
sweatest! come, let me wipe thy face; come on, you whoreson chops:
ah, rogue! i' faith, I love thee: thou art as valorous as Hector
of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the Nine
Worthies: ah, villain!
Ah, you sweet little rogue! Alas, you monkey, how you
sweat! Come, let me wipe your face; come on, you
chubby cheeked bastard: you rogue! I swear, I love you: you are as brave as
Hector of Troy, worth five Agamemnons, and ten times better
than the ten great men.
FALSTAFF.
A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
A rascally slave! I'll roll the rogue up in a blanket.
DOLL.
Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I'll canvass
thee between a pair of sheets.
Do, on the risk of your life: if you do I'll toss you about
between a pair of sheets.
[Enter Music.]
PAGE.
The music is come, sir.
The musicians have come, sir.
FALSTAFF.
Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascal
bragging slave! The rogue fled from me like quicksilver.
Let them play. Play, sirs. Sit on my knee, Doll. A rascally
arrogant slave! The rascal ran from me like lightning.
DOLL.
I' faith, and thou followedst him like a church. Thou whoreson
little tidy Bartholomew boar-pig, when wilt thou leave fighting
o' days and foining o' nights, and begin to patch up thine old body
for heaven?
Indeed, and you didn't budge an inch. You
sweet little tubby old pig, when will you stop fighting
in the day and thrusting at night, and begin to prepare your
old body for heaven?
[Enter, behind, Prince Henry and Poins, disguised as drawers.]
FALSTAFF.
Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death's-head; do
not bid me remember mine end.
Peace, good Doll! Don't speak like a death's head;
don't remind me of my death.
DOLL.
Sirrah, what humour 's the prince of?
Sir, what's the Prince like?
FALSTAFF.
A good shallow young fellow: 'a would have made a good
pantler; a' would ha' chipped bread well.
He's a good worthless young fellow: he would have made a good
pantry man; he would have being good at taking the crust off the bread.
DOLL.
They say Poins has a good wit.
They say Poins is clever.
FALSTAFF.
He a good wit! hang him, baboon! his wit's as thick as
Tewksbury mustard; there 's no more conceit in him than is in a
mallet.
Him clever! Hang him, the baboon! His wit is as
thick as Tewksbury mustard; he's as much imagination
as a block of wood.
DOLL.
Why does the prince love him so, then?
Why is the Prince so fond of him, then?
FALSTAFF.
Because their legs are both of a bigness, and a' plays at quoits
well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks off candles' ends for
flap-dragons, and rides the wild-mare with the boys, and jumps upon
joined-stools, and swears with a good grace, and wears his boots very
smooth, like unto the sign of the leg, and breeds no bate with telling
of discreet stories; and such other gambol faculties a' has, that show
a weak mind and an able body, for the which the prince admits him: for
the prince himself is such another; the weight of a hair will turn the
scales between their avoirdupois.
Because their legs are the same size, and he plays quoits well,
and he has a good digestion and a dull wit,
and performs acts of bravado, and plays leapfrog with the boys,
and dances around in taverns, and swears prettily,
and wears his boots very tight, fitting to the leg,
and delights his listeners with filthy stories;
and he has other jolly faculties, that demonstrate
a weak mind
in an able body, and that's why the Prince likes him:
for the Prince himself is just like him;
there's really nothing
to choose between them.
PRINCE.
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
Does this fat rascal want his ears cut off?
POINS.
Let 's beat him before his whore.
Let's beat him in front of his whore.
PRINCE.
Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed
like a parrot.
Look, the shrivelled old man is having his hair rumpled by her, as if he was a parrot.
POINS.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive
performance?
Isn't it odd that desire should live for so many years after
the ability to fulfil it has gone?
FALSTAFF.
Kiss me, Doll.
Kiss me, Doll.
PRINCE.
Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the
almanac to that?
Saturn and Venus have come together this year! What does the
almanac have to say about that?
POINS.
And, look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping
to his master's old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper.
And look, his red-faced servant is whispering to
his old confidant.
FALSTAFF.
Thou dost give me flattering busses.
You're flattering me with your kisses.
DOLL.
By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
I swear, I'm kissing you very truly.
FALSTAFF.
I am old, I am old.
I am old, I am old.
DOLL.
I love thee better than I love e'er a scurvy young boy of
them all.
I love you more than I have ever loved any of these young rascals.
FALSTAFF.
What stuff wilt have a kirtle of? I shall receive money o'
Thursday: shalt have a cap to-morrow. A merry song, come: it
grows late; we'll to bed. Thou'lt forget me when I am gone.
What material would you like for a dress? I'm getting money
on Thursday: I'll buy you a cap tomorrow. Let's have
a merry song: it's getting late; we'll go to bed.
You won't remember me when I'm gone.
DOLL.
By my troth, thou'lt set me a-weeping, an thou sayest so:
prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return: well,
hearken at the end.
I swear, you'll start me crying, saying that:
I shall keep myself looking nice to wait for your return:
you'll see.
FALSTAFF.
Some sack, Francis.
Let's have some sack, Francis.
PRINCE & POINS.
Anon, anon, sir.
At once, sir.
[Coming forward.]
FALSTAFF.
Ha! a bastard son of the king's? And art thou not Poins
his brother?
Ha! A bastard son of the king's? And aren't you his brother Poins?
PRINCE.
Why, thou globe of sinful continents, what a life dost thou lead!
Why, you old world full of sin, what a life you lead!
FALSTAFF.
A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.
A better one than you: I am a gentleman, you are a beer puller.
PRINCE.
Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.
Very true, sir; and I've come to pull you out by the ears.
HOSTESS.
O, the Lord preserve thy grace! by my troth, welcome to
London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O Jesu,
are you come from Wales?
May the Lord preserve your Grace! I swear, you are welcome
to London. May the Lord bless your sweet face! O Jesus,
have you come from Wales?
FALSTAFF.
Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light
flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
You majestic old son of a bitch, you are welcomed
by this light body and corrupt blood.
DOLL.
How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
What, you fat fool! I reject you.
POINS.
My lord, he will drive you out of your revenge and turn all
to a merriment, if you take not the heat.
My lord, he'll make you forget your revenge and make everything
jolly, if you don't do something now.
PRINCE.
You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of
me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
You great bucket of fat, you, how horribly you just spoke of me
in front of this honest, good, polite gentlewoman!
HOSTESS.
God's blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.
May God bless your good heart! That's what she is, I swear.
FALSTAFF.
Didst thou hear me?
Did you hear me?
PRINCE.
Yea, and you knew me, as you did when you ran away by
Gad's-hill: you knew I was at your back, and spoke it on purpose
to try my patience.
Yes, and you knew it was me, as you did when you ran away
at Gadshill: you knew I was behind you, and said it on purpose
to annoy me.
FALSTAFF.
No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.
No, no, no; I didn't; I didn't think you were within earshot.
PRINCE.
I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I
know how to handle you.
Then I shall make you admit your wilful abuse; and then I
know what to do with you.
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Hal, o' mine honour; no abuse.
There was no abuse, Hal, I swear; no abuse.
PRINCE.
Not to dispraise me, and call me pantler and bread-chipper and I
know not what!
Not when you were putting me down, and called me a pantry man and a bread trimmer,
and I don't know what else!
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Hal.
There was no abuse, Hal.
POINS.
No abuse!
No abuse!
FALSTAFF.
No abuse, Ned, i' the world; honest Ned, none. I dispraised him before
the wicked, that the wicked might not fall in love with him; in which
doing, I have done the part of a careful friend and a true subject,
and thy father is to give me thanks for it. No abuse, Hal: none,
Ned, none: no, faith, boys, none.
No abuse, Ned, not at all; honest Ned, none. I was just putting him down
in front of these wicked people, so that they wouldn't love him;
doing that I was being a good friend and a true subject,
and your father shall thank me for it. No abuse, Hal:
none, Ned, none: no, I swear, boys, none.
PRINCE.
See now, whether pure fear and entire cowardice doth not make thee
wrong this virtuous gentlewoman to close with us. Is she of the wicked?
is thine hostess here of the wicked? or is thy boy of the wicked?
or honest Bardolph, whose zeal burns in his nose, of the wicked?
Let's see if your pure fear and great cowardice has made you
insult this good gentlewoman here. Is she one of the wicked?
Is your hostess here one of the wicked? Or your servant?
Or honest Bardolph, whose passion burns in his nose?
POINS.
Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
Answer, you rotten
tree, answer.
FALSTAFF.
The fiend hath pricked down Bardolph irrecoverable; and his
face is Lucifer's privy-kitchen, where he doth nothing but roast
malt-worms.
For the boy, there is a good angel about him; but the devil
attends him too.
The devil has got Bardolph written down as a definite victim;
his red face is like Lucifer's private kitchen, where all he does is roast boozers.
As for the boy, he has a good angel with him; but the devil
has got his eye on him.
PRINCE.
For the women?
What about the women?
FALSTAFF.
For one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls.
For the other, I owe her money; and whether she be damned for
that, I know not.
As for one of them, she is in hell already, and burns poor souls with the pox.