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Modern English
Master Fang, have you entered the action?
Master Fang, have you started the action?
It is entered.
It has started.
Where’s your yeoman? Is’t a lusty yeoman? will a’ stand to ’t?
Where’s your servant? Is he a strong man? Will he stick to it?
Sirrah, where’s Snare?
Boy, where’s Snare?
O Lord, ay! good Master Snare.
Oh Lord, yes! good Master Snare.
Here, here.
Here, here.
Snare, we must arrest Sir John Falstaff.
Snare, we need to arrest Sir John Falstaff.
Yea, good Master Snare; I have entered him and all.
Yes, good Master Snare; I’ve already entered him and everything.
It may chance cost some of us our lives, for he will stab.
It might cost some of us our lives, because he’ll stab.
Alas the day! take heed of him; he stabbed me in mine own house, and that most beastly: in good faith, he cares not what mischief he does. If his weapon be out: he will foin like any devil; he will spare neither man, woman, nor child.
Oh dear! be careful of him; he stabbed me in my own house, and it was awful: honestly, he doesn’t care what trouble he causes. If his weapon is out: he’ll strike like any devil; he’ll spare no one—man, woman, or child.
If I can close with him, I care not for his thrust.
If I can get close to him, I’m not afraid of his thrust.
No, nor I neither: I’ll be at your elbow.
Neither am I: I’ll be right beside you.
An I but fist him once; an a’ come but within my vice,--
If I can just land a punch on him; if he comes anywhere near my grip,--
I am undone by his going; I warrant you, he’s an infinitive thing upon my score. Good Master Fang, hold him sure: good Master Snare, let him not ’scape. A’ comes continuantly to Pie-corner--saving your manhoods--to buy a saddle; and he is indited to dinner to the Lubber’s-head in Lumbert street, to Master Smooth’s the silkman: I pray ye, since my exion is entered and my case so openly known to the world, let him be brought in to his answer. A hundred mark is a long one for a poor lone woman to bear: and I have borne, and borne, and borne, and have been fubbed off, and fubbed off, and fubbed off, from this day to that day, that it is a shame to be thought on. There is no honesty in such dealing; unless a woman should be made an ass and a beast, to bear every knave’s wrong. Yonder he comes; and that errant malmsey-nose knave, Bardolph, with him. Do your offices, do your offices: Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your offices.
I’m ruined by him leaving; I swear, he’s a total burden on me. Good Master Fang, hold him tight: good Master Snare, don’t let him get away. He constantly comes to Pie-corner—excuse me, gentlemen— to buy a saddle; and he’s invited to dinner at the Lubber’s-head on Lumbert street, to Master Smooth’s, the silk merchant: I beg you, since my trouble is public and my case so well known, let him be brought to answer for it. A hundred marks is a huge amount for a poor, lonely woman to handle: and I’ve handled it, and handled it, and handled it, and I’ve been pushed aside, and pushed aside, and pushed aside, from one day to the next, to the point that it’s shameful to even think about. There’s no honesty in such treatment; unless a woman is meant to be a fool and a beast, bearing every scoundrel’s wrongs. There he comes; and that troublesome drunkard Bardolph with him. Do your jobs, do your jobs: Master Fang and Master Snare, do me, do me, do me your jobs.
How now! whose mare’s dead? what’s the matter?
What’s going on now! whose horse is dead? what’s happening?
Sir John, I arrest you at the suit of Mistress Quickly.
Sir John, I arrest you on the complaint of Mistress Quickly.
Away, varlets! Draw, Bardolph: cut me off the villain’s head: throw the quean in the channel.
Away, you scoundrels! Draw, Bardolph: cut off the villain’s head: throw the woman in the river.
Throw me in the channel! I’ll throw thee in the channel. Wilt thou? wilt thou? thou bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, thou honeysuckle villain! wilt thou kill God’s officers and the king’s? Ah, thou honey-seed rogue! thou art a honey-seed, a man-queller, and a woman-queller.
Throw me in the river! I’ll throw you in the river. Will you? will you? you bastardly rogue! Murder, murder! Ah, you rotten villain! will you kill God’s officers and the king’s? Ah, you lowlife rogue! you’re a lowlife, a man-hater, and a woman-hater.
Keep them off, Bardolph.
Keep them away, Bardolph.
A rescue! a rescue!
A rescue! a rescue!
Good people, bring a rescue or two. Thou wo’t, wo’t thou? Thou wo’t, wo’t ta? do, do, thou rogue! do, thou hemp-seed!
Good people, bring a rescue or two. You will, won’t you? You will, won’t you? Come on, do it, you rogue! do, you good-for-nothing!
Away, you scullion! you rampallion! You fustilarian! I’ll tickle your catastrophe.
Away, you kitchen-scraper! you good-for-nothing! You piece of garbage! I’ll make you regret this.
Lord Chief-Justice What is the matter? keep the peace here, ho!
Lord Chief-Justice What’s going on here? Keep the peace, ho!
Good my lord, be good to me. I beseech you, stand to me. Lord Chief-Justice How now, Sir John! what are you brawling here? Doth this become your place, your time and business? You should have been well on your way to York. Stand from him, fellow: wherefore hang’st upon him?
Good my lord, be kind to me. I beg you, stand by me. Lord Chief-Justice What’s going on, Sir John! What are you arguing about here? Does this fit your position, your timing, and your business? You should have been on your way to York by now. Step away from him, fellow: why are you hanging on him?
O most worshipful lord, an’t please your grace, I am a poor widow of Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my suit. Lord Chief-Justice For what sum?
Oh, most noble lord, if it pleases your grace, I am a poor widow from Eastcheap, and he is arrested at my request. Lord Chief-Justice For how much?
It is more than for some, my lord; it is for all, all I have. He hath eaten me out of house and home; he hath put all my substance into that fat belly of his: but I will have some of it out again, or I will ride thee o’ nights like the mare.
It’s more than just some money, my lord; it’s everything I have. He’s eaten me out of house and home; he’s stuffed all my money into that fat belly of his: but I’ll get some of it back, or I’ll come after you at night like a wild horse.
I think I am as like to ride the mare, if I have any vantage of ground to get up. Lord Chief-Justice How comes this, Sir John? Fie! what man of good temper would endure this tempest of exclamation? Are you not ashamed to enforce a poor widow to so rough a course to come by her own?
I think I’m more likely to be the one riding the horse, if I have the advantage to get up. Lord Chief-Justice How did this happen, Sir John? Shame on you! What kind of man would tolerate this constant noise? Aren’t you ashamed to force a poor widow to take such harsh measures to get back what’s rightfully hers?
What is the gross sum that I owe thee?
What’s the total amount I owe you?
Marry, if thou wert an honest man, thyself and the money too. Thou didst swear to me upon a parcel-gilt goblet, sitting in my Dolphin-chamber, at the round table, by a sea-coal fire, upon Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince broke thy head for liking his father to a singing-man of Windsor, thou didst swear to me then, as I was washing thy wound, to marry me and make me my lady thy wife. Canst thou deny it? Did not goodwife Keech, the butcher’s wife, come in then and call me gossip Quickly? coming in to borrow a mess of vinegar; telling us she had a good dish of prawns; whereby thou didst desire to eat some; whereby I told thee they were ill for a green wound? And didst thou not, when she was gone down stairs, desire me to be no more so familiarity with such poor people; saying that ere long they should call me madam? And didst thou not kiss me and bid me fetch thee thirty shillings? I put thee now to thy book-oath: deny it, if thou canst.
Well, if you were an honest man, you’d owe me both yourself and the money. You swore to me on a gilded cup, sitting in my Dolphin room, at the round table, by a coal fire, on Wednesday in Wheeson week, when the prince hit you in the head for comparing his father to a singer from Windsor. You swore to me then, while I was cleaning your wound, that you’d marry me and make me your lady wife. Can you deny it? Didn’t goodwife Keech, the butcher’s wife, come in and call me gossip Quickly? She came in to borrow some vinegar, saying she had a nice dish of prawns; and you wanted some; and I told you they were bad for a fresh wound? And didn’t you, when she left, ask me not to get too familiar with such poor people, saying that soon they’d call me madam? And didn’t you kiss me and ask me to get you thirty shillings? Now I challenge you to swear on your book: deny it if you can.
My lord, this is a poor mad soul; and she says up and down the town that the eldest son is like you: she hath been in good case, and the truth is, poverty hath distracted her. But for these foolish officers, I beseech you I may have redress against them. Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I am well acquainted with your manner of wrenching the true cause the false way. It is not a confident brow, nor the throng of words that come with such more than impudent sauciness from you, can thrust me from a level consideration: you have, as it appears to me, practised upon the easy-yielding spirit of this woman, and made her serve your uses both in purse and in person.
My lord, this is a crazy woman; and she’s been going around the town saying the eldest son looks like you: she’s been well off, but the truth is, poverty has driven her mad. But as for these silly officers, I beg you to give me justice against them. Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, Sir John, I know your way of twisting the truth to fit your own agenda. It’s not your boldness or the flood of words that come from you with such rude arrogance that will make me lose sight of what’s right: you have, it seems to me, taken advantage of this woman’s easy nature, using her for your own benefit, both financially and personally.
Yea, in truth, my lord. Lord Chief-Justice Pray thee, peace. Pay her the debt you owe her, and unpay the villany you have done her: the one you may do with sterling money, and the other with current repentance.
Yes, that’s true, my lord. Lord Chief-Justice Please, be quiet. Pay her the money you owe her, and undo the wrong you’ve done her: you can pay the debt with real money, and the other with true repentance.
My lord, I will not undergo this sneap without reply. You call honourable boldness impudent sauciness: if a man will make courtesy and say nothing, he is virtuous: no, my lord, my humble duty remembered, I will not be your suitor. I say to you, I do desire deliverance from these officers, being upon hasty employment in the king’s affairs. Lord Chief-Justice You speak as having power to do wrong: but answer in the effect of your reputation, and satisfy this poor woman.
My lord, I won’t take this insult without responding. You call honorable boldness rude arrogance: if a man bows and says nothing, he’s virtuous: no, my lord, with all due respect, I won’t be your suitor. I say to you, I want to be free of these officers, who are rushing about with the king’s business. Lord Chief-Justice You speak as if you have the power to do wrong: but respond according to your reputation, and settle this poor woman’s claim.
Come hither, hostess.
Come here, hostess.
Now, Master Gower, what news?
Now, Master Gower, what’s the news?
The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales Are near at hand: the rest the paper tells.
The king, my lord, and Harry Prince of Wales are close by: the rest is in the letter.
As I am a gentleman.
As I’m a gentleman.
Faith, you said so before.
You’ve said that before.
As I am a gentleman. Come, no more words of it.
As I’m a gentleman. Enough of that.
By this heavenly ground I tread on, I must be fain to pawn both my plate and the tapestry of my dining-chambers.
By this ground I stand on, I might have to pawn both my silverware and the tapestries in my dining room.
Glasses, glasses is the only drinking: and for thy walls, a pretty slight drollery, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting in water-work, is worth a thousand of these bed-hangings and these fly-bitten tapestries. Let it be ten pound, if thou canst. Come, an ’twere not for thy humours, there’s not a better wench in England. Go, wash thy face, and draw the action. Come, thou must not be in this humour with me; dost not know me? come, come, I know thou wast set on to this.
Glasses, glasses are the only way to drink: and for your walls, a good little joke, or the story of the Prodigal, or the German hunting scene in wallpaper, is worth more than all this bed-drapery and these shabby tapestries. Let it be ten pounds, if you can manage it. Come on, if it weren’t for your mood, there’s no better woman in England. Go, wash your face, and get the money. Come on, don’t be in this mood with me; don’t you know me? come on, I know you were persuaded to this.
Pray thee, Sir John, let it be but twenty nobles: i’ faith, I am loath to pawn my plate, so God save me, la!
Please, Sir John, let it be just twenty nobles: I’m really reluctant to pawn my silverware, so help me God, I don’t want to!
Let it alone; I’ll make other shift: you’ll be a fool still.
Forget it; I’ll find another way: you’ll be a fool still.
Well, you shall have it, though I pawn my gown. I hope you’ll come to supper. You’ll pay me all together?
Alright, you’ll have it, even if I have to pawn my dress. I hope you’ll come to dinner. You’ll pay me all at once?
Will I live?
Will I live?
Go, with her, with her; hook on, hook on.
Go, with her, with her; get moving, get moving.
Will you have Doll Tearsheet meet you at supper?
Do you want Doll Tearsheet to meet you at dinner?
No more words; let’s have her.
No more talking; let’s just get her.
Lord Chief-Justice I have heard better news.
Lord Chief-Justice, I’ve heard better news.
What’s the news, my lord? Lord Chief-Justice Where lay the king last night?
What’s the news, my lord? Lord Chief-Justice Where did the king stay last night?
At Basingstoke, my lord.
At Basingstoke, my lord.
I hope, my lord, all’s well: what is the news, my lord? Lord Chief-Justice Come all his forces back?
I hope, my lord, everything is fine: what’s the news, my lord? Lord Chief-Justice Are all his forces back?
No; fifteen hundred foot, five hundred horse, Are marched up to my lord of Lancaster, Against Northumberland and the Archbishop.
No; fifteen hundred foot soldiers, five hundred cavalry, Have marched up to my lord of Lancaster, To fight Northumberland and the Archbishop.
Comes the king back from Wales, my noble lord? Lord Chief-Justice You shall have letters of me presently: Come, go along with me, good Master Gower.
Is the king coming back from Wales, my noble lord? Lord Chief-Justice You’ll get letters from me right away: Come, go with me, good Master Gower.
My lord! Lord Chief-Justice What’s the matter?
My lord! Lord Chief-Justice What’s the matter?
Master Gower, shall I entreat you with me to dinner?
Master Gower, may I invite you to dinner with me?
I must wait upon my good lord here; I thank you, good Sir John. Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you loiter here too long, being you are to take soldiers up in counties as you go.
I have to stay with my good lord here; thank you, good Sir John. Lord Chief-Justice Sir John, you’re wasting time here, when you’re supposed to be recruiting soldiers in the counties as you go.
Will you sup with me, Master Gower? Lord Chief-Justice What foolish master taught you these manners, Sir John?
Will you eat with me, Master Gower? Lord Chief-Justice: What silly master taught you these manners, Sir John?
Master Gower, if they become me not, he was a fool that taught them me. This is the right fencing grace, my lord; tap for tap, and so part fair. Lord Chief-Justice Now the Lord lighten thee! thou art a great fool.
Master Gower, if they don’t suit me, the fool who taught me was an idiot. This is the proper way to duel, my lord; eye for an eye, and part as friends. Lord Chief-Justice: May God lighten your soul! You are a huge fool.