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Modern English
What the devil hast thou brought there? apple-johns? thou knowest Sir John cannot endure an apple-john.
What the hell have you brought here? Apple-johns? You know Sir John can’t stand apple-johns.
Mass, thou sayest true. The prince once set a dish of apple-johns before him, and told him there were five more Sir Johns, and, putting off his hat, said ’I will now take my leave of these six dry, round, old, withered knights.’ It angered him to the heart: but he hath forgot that.
Wow, you’re right. The prince once put a dish Of apple-johns in front of him, and said There were five more Sir Johns, and, taking off his hat, said ‘I will now say goodbye to these six dry, round, Old, withered knights.’ It really angered him, But he’s forgotten about it.
Why, then, cover, and set them down: and see if thou canst find out Sneak’s noise; Mistress Tearsheet would fain hear some music. Dispatch: the room where they supped is too hot; they’ll come in straight.
Well then, cover them and put them down: and see if You can find out Sneak’s noise; Mistress Tearsheet wants to hear some music. Hurry: the Room where they ate is too hot; they’ll come in soon.
Sirrah, here will be the prince and Master Poins anon; and they will put on two of our jerkins and aprons; and Sir John must not know of it: Bardolph hath brought word.
Hey, the prince and Master Poins Will be here soon; they’ll put on two of our jerkins and Aprons; and Sir John must not know about it: Bardolph Has brought word.
By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an excellent stratagem.
By the mass, here will be old Utis: it will be an Excellent plan.
I’ll see if I can find out Sneak.
I’ll see if I can find out where Sneak is.
I’ faith, sweetheart, methinks now you are in an excellent good temperality: your pulsidge beats as extraordinarily as heart would desire; and your colour, I warrant you, is as red as any rose, in good truth, la! But, i’ faith, you have drunk too much canaries; and that’s a marvellous searching wine, and it perfumes the blood ere one can say ’What’s this?’ How do you now?
Honestly, sweetheart, I think you’re in a really good mood now: your pulse is beating just the way a heart would want; and your face, I swear, is as red as any rose, really! But, honestly, you’ve drunk too much canary wine; and that’s a really strong wine, it warms the blood before you can even ask ‘What’s happening?’ How do you feel now?
Better than I was: hem!
Better than I was: cough!
Why, that’s well said; a good heart’s worth gold. Lo, here comes Sir John.
Well, that’s good to hear; a strong heart is worth gold. Look, here comes Sir John.
[Singing] ’When Arthur first in court,’ --Empty the jordan.
[Singing] ’When Arthur first in court,’ --Empty the chamber pot.
--’And was a worthy king.’ How now, Mistress Doll!
--’And was a worthy king.’ How’s it going, Mistress Doll?
Sick of a calm; yea, good faith.
Sick from resting too long; yes, really.
So is all her sect; an they be once in a calm, they are sick.
That’s how all women are; once they’re relaxed, they get sick.
You muddy rascal, is that all the comfort you give me?
You dirty scoundrel, is that all the comfort you give me?
You make fat rascals, Mistress Doll.
You make lazy people, Mistress Doll.
I make them! gluttony and diseases make them; I make them not.
I make lazy people! No, it’s gluttony and sickness that make them; I don’t do that.
If the cook help to make the gluttony, you help to make the diseases, Doll: we catch of you, Doll, we catch of you; grant that, my poor virtue grant that.
If the cook is responsible for making people gluttonous, you’re responsible for making them sick, Doll: we catch your bad habits, Doll, we catch them from you; admit it, my poor virtue, admit it.
Yea, joy, our chains and our jewels.
Yeah, sure, our chains and our jewels.
’Your broaches, pearls, and ouches:’ for to serve bravely is to come halting off, you know: to come off the breach with his pike bent bravely, and to surgery bravely; to venture upon the charged chambers bravely,--
’Your brooches, pearls, and pendants:’ because to serve with honor means to come off badly, you know: to come off the battlefield with your spear raised bravely, and to go to the doctor bravely; to face the cannons bravely,--
Hang yourself, you muddy conger, hang yourself!
Go hang yourself, you filthy eel, go hang yourself!
By my troth, this is the old fashion; you two never meet but you fall to some discord: you are both, i’ good truth, as rheumatic as two dry toasts; you cannot one bear with another’s confirmities. What the good-year! one must bear, and that must be you: you are the weaker vessel, as they say, the emptier vessel.
Honestly, this is the same old thing; you two never meet without arguing: you’re both, really, as stiff and grumpy as two dry slices of toast; you can’t stand each other’s habits. What the hell! one of you has to put up with the other’s nonsense, and that’s going to be you: you’re the weaker one, as they say, the emptier one.
Can a weak empty vessel bear such a huge full hogshead? there’s a whole merchant’s venture of Bourdeaux stuff in him; you have not seen a hulk better stuffed in the hold. Come, I’ll be friends with thee, Jack: thou art going to the wars; and whether I shall ever see thee again or no, there is nobody cares.
Can an empty weak thing handle such a full, heavy barrel? there’s enough wine in him for a whole shipment from Bordeaux; you haven’t seen a ship more packed with cargo. Come on, I’ll make up with you, Jack: you’re going off to war; and whether I ever see you again or not, no one really cares.
Sir, Ancient Pistol’s below, and would speak with you.
Sir, Ancient Pistol’s downstairs, and wants to speak to you.
Hang him, swaggering rascal! let him not come hither: it is the foul-mouthed’st rogue in England.
Go to hell, you arrogant fool! don’t let him come up here: he’s the most foul-mouthed scoundrel in England.
If he swagger, let him not come here: no, by my faith; I must live among my neighbours: I’ll no swaggerers: I am in good name and fame with the very best: shut the door; there comes no swaggerers here: I have not lived all this while, to have swaggering now: shut the door, I pray you.
If he’s going to act all tough, don’t let him come in: no, honestly; I have to live among my neighbors: I don’t want any troublemakers: I’m on good terms with the best people: shut the door; no troublemakers allowed here: I haven’t lived all this time to have troublemakers in here now: shut the door, please.
Dost thou hear, hostess?
Do you hear, hostess?
Pray ye, pacify yourself, Sir John: there comes no swaggerers here.
Please, calm down, Sir John: no troublemakers are coming in.
Dost thou hear? it is mine ancient.
Do you hear? it’s my old friend.
Tilly-fally, Sir John, ne’er tell me: your ancient swaggerer comes not in my doors. I was before Master Tisick, the debuty, t’other day; and, as he said to me, ’twas no longer ago than Wednesday last, ’I’ good faith, neighbour Quickly,’ says he; Master Dumbe, our minister, was by then; ’neighbour Quickly,’ says he, ’receive those that are civil; for,’ said he, ’you are in an ill name:’ now a’ said so, I can tell whereupon; ’for,’ says he, ’you are an honest woman, and well thought on; therefore take heed what guests you receive: receive,’ says he, ’no swaggering companions.’ There comes none here: you would bless you to hear what he said: no, I’ll no swaggerers.
Nonsense, Sir John, don’t talk to me like that: your old troublemaker is not coming through my door. I was talking to Master Tisick, the deputy, the other day; and, as he said to me, just last Wednesday, ‘In good faith, neighbour Quickly,’ says he; Master Dumbe, our minister, was there then; ‘neighbour Quickly,’ says he, ‘you should only take in guests who are civil; for,’ says he, ‘you have a good reputation:’ now I know why he said that; ‘for,’ says he, ‘you’re an honest woman, and well thought of; so be careful who you let in: don’t let in any loudmouthed types.’ There’s no one like that here: you’d be surprised to hear what he said: no, I don’t want any troublemakers.
He’s no swaggerer, hostess; a tame cheater, i’ faith; you may stroke him as gently as a puppy greyhound: he’ll not swagger with a Barbary hen, if her feathers turn back in any show of resistance. Call him up, drawer.
He’s not a troublemaker, hostess; just a harmless cheat, really; you can handle him gently like a little puppy greyhound: he won’t act tough with a woman, even if she puts up a little resistance. Call him up, drawer.
Cheater, call you him? I will bar no honest man my house, nor no cheater: but I do not love swaggering, by my troth; I am the worse, when one says swagger: feel, masters, how I shake; look you, I warrant you.
A cheat, you say? I’ll allow no honest man in my house, nor any cheat: but I really don’t like troublemakers, honestly; I get worse when someone calls them that: feel it, everyone, see how I tremble; look, I’m serious.
So you do, hostess.
You’re right, hostess.
Do I? yea, in very truth, do I, an ’twere an aspen leaf: I cannot abide swaggerers.
I am? yes, truly, I am, as if I were shaking like a leaf: I can’t stand troublemakers.
God save you, Sir John!
God bless you, Sir John!
Welcome, Ancient Pistol. Here, Pistol, I charge you with a cup of sack: do you discharge upon mine hostess.
Welcome, Old Pistol. Here, Pistol, I order you to have a drink of wine: now go and give it to my landlady.
I will discharge upon her, Sir John, with two bullets.
I’ll give it to her, Sir John, with two bullets.
She is Pistol-proof, sir; you shall hardly offend her.
She’s bulletproof, sir; you won’t be able to hurt her.
Come, I’ll drink no proofs nor no bullets: I’ll drink no more than will do me good, for no man’s pleasure, I.
Come, I won’t drink any poison or any bullets: I’ll drink only what’s good for me, not for anyone else’s enjoyment.
Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I will charge you.
Then to you, Mistress Dorothy; I’ll challenge you.
Charge me! I scorn you, scurvy companion. What! you poor, base, rascally, cheating, lack-linen mate! Away, you mouldy rogue, away! I am meat for your master.
Challenge me! I spit on you, disgusting fool. What! you poor, low, cheating, dirty, worthless man! Get lost, you rotten scoundrel, get lost! I’m good for your master.
I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
I know you, Mistress Dorothy.
Away, you cut-purse rascal! you filthy bung, away! by this wine, I’ll thrust my knife in your mouldy chaps, an you play the saucy cuttle with me. Away, you bottle-ale rascal! you basket-hilt stale juggler, you! Since when, I pray you, sir? God’s light, with two points on your shoulder? much!
Get lost, you thief! you filthy drunk, get lost! by this wine, I’ll stab you in the face if you keep being rude to me. Get lost, you cheap beer-drinker! you half-wit trickster, you! Since when, I ask you, sir? By God’s light, with two points on your shoulder? Really?
God let me not live, but I will murder your ruff for this.
God let me not live if I don’t ruin your reputation for this.
No more, Pistol; I would not have you go off here: discharge yourself of our company, Pistol.
Enough, Pistol; I don’t want you to make a scene here: leave our company, Pistol.
No, Good Captain Pistol; not here, sweet captain.
No, Good Captain Pistol; not here, dear captain.
Captain! thou abominable damned cheater, art thou not ashamed to be called captain? An captains were of my mind, they would truncheon you out, for taking their names upon you before you have earned them. You a captain! you slave, for what? for tearing a poor whore’s ruff in a bawdy-house? He a captain! hang him, rogue! he lives upon mouldy stewed prunes and dried cakes. A captain! God’s light, these villains will make the word as odious as the word ’occupy;’ which was an excellent good word before it was ill sorted: therefore captains had need look to ’t.
Captain! you horrible, damned cheater, aren’t you embarrassed to be called captain? If captains were like me, they’d throw you out, for taking their titles before you’ve earned them. You a captain! You’re nothing but a slave, for what? for ripping a poor whore’s collar in a brothel? He a captain! hang him, scoundrel! he lives off rotten stewed prunes and stale cakes. A captain! God’s light, these criminals will make the word as disgusting as the word ’occupy;’ which was a fine word until it got corrupted: so captains better watch out.
Pray thee, go down, good ancient.
Please, go away, good old man.
Hark thee hither, Mistress Doll.
Listen here, Mistress Doll.
Not I I tell thee what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her: I’ll be revenged of her.
Not me, I tell you what, Corporal Bardolph, I could tear her apart: I’ll get revenge on her.
Pray thee, go down.
Please, go downstairs.
I’ll see her damned first; to Pluto’s damned lake, by this hand, to the infernal deep, with Erebus and tortures vile also. Hold hook and line, say I. Down, down, dogs! down, faitors! Have we not Hiren here?
I’ll see her damned first; to Pluto’s cursed lake, by this hand, to the hellish depths, with Erebus and horrible tortures too. Hold the hook and line, I say. Down, down, dogs! down, traitors! Don’t we have Hiren here?
Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; ’tis very late, i’ faith: I beseek you now, aggravate your choler.
Good Captain Peesel, be quiet; it’s very late, really: I beg you now, don’t make yourself angrier.
These be good humours, indeed! Shall pack-horses And hollow pamper’d jades of Asia, Which cannot go but thirty mile a-day, Compare with Caesars, and with Cannibals, And Trojan Greeks? nay, rather damn them with King Cerberus; and let the welkin roar. Shall we fall foul for toys?
These are good moods, indeed! Shall pack-horses And bloated, spoiled horses of Asia, Which can’t travel more than thirty miles a day, Be compared with Caesars, and with Cannibals, And Trojan Greeks? no, better to damn them with King Cerberus; and let the heavens roar. Shall we fight over silly things?
By my troth, captain, these are very bitter words.
By my word, captain, these are very harsh words.
Be gone, good ancient: this will grow to abrawl anon.
Go away, good old man: this will turn into a fight soon.
Die men like dogs! give crowns like pins! Have we not Heren here?
Die like dogs! give away crowns like pins! Don’t we have Heren here?
O’ my word, captain, there’s none such here. What the good-year! do you think I would deny her? For God’s sake, be quiet.
Oh my word, captain, there’s no one like that here. What the hell! do you think I’d refuse her? For God’s sake, be quiet.
Then feed, and be fat, my fair Calipolis. Come, give’s some sack. ’Si fortune me tormente, sperato me contento.’ Fear we broadsides? no, let the fiend give fire: Give me some sack: and, sweetheart, lie thou there.
Then eat, and get fat, my beautiful Calipolis. Come, let’s have some wine. ’If fortune torments me, I hope I’ll be content.’ Are we afraid of broadside attacks? no, let the devil give fire: Give me some wine: and, sweetheart, lie down there.
Come we to full points here; and are etceteras nothing?
Come, let’s get to the point here; and are all other things nothing?
Pistol, I would be quiet.
Pistol, I would like some peace.
Sweet knight, I kiss thy neaf: what! we have seen the seven stars.
Sweet knight, I kiss your hand: what! we’ve seen the seven stars.
For God’s sake, thrust him down stairs: I cannot endure such a fustian rascal.
For God’s sake, push him downstairs: I can’t stand such a pompous fool.
Thrust him down stairs! know we not Galloway nags?
Push him downstairs! don’t we know Galloway horses?
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 worthless coin: no, if he does nothing but talk nonsense, he’ll be useless here.
Come, get you down stairs.
Come on, get downstairs.
What! shall we have incision? shall we imbrue?
What! Are we going to fight? Are we going to bleed?
Then death rock me asleep, abridge my doleful days! Why, then, let grievous, ghastly, gaping wounds Untwine the Sisters Three! Come, Atropos, I say!
Then death, put me to sleep, shorten my sad days! Well then, let terrible, awful, bleeding wounds undo the Fates! Come on, Atropos, I say!
Here’s goodly stuff toward!
Here’s some fine mess!
Give me my rapier, boy.
Give me my sword, boy.
I pray thee, Jack, I pray thee, do not draw.
Please, Jack, please, don’t draw it.
Get you down stairs.
Get downstairs.
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 some fine chaos! I’ll swear off being a housekeeper before I deal with these fights and scares. Well, murder, I bet now. Oh, oh! Put away your weapons, put away your weapons.
I pray thee, Jack, be quiet; the rascal’s gone. Ah, you whoreson little valiant villain, you!
Please, Jack, be calm; the rascal’s gone. Ah, you good-for-nothing little brave fool, you!
He you not hurt i’ the groin? methought a’ made a shrewd thrust at your belly.
Didn’t he hurt you in the groin? I thought he made a sharp stab at your belly.
Have you turned him out o’ doors?
Did you throw him out?
Yea, sir. The rascal’s drunk: you have hurt him, sir, i’ the shoulder.
Yeah, sir. The idiot’s drunk: you’ve hurt him, sir, in the shoulder.
A rascal! to brave me!
An idiot! to challenge me!
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 rascal, you! poor fool, how you’re sweating! come, let me wipe your face; come on, you little bastard: ah, rogue! honestly, I love you: you’re as brave as Hector of Troy, worth five of Agamemnon, and ten times better than the Nine Worthies: ah, villain!
A rascally slave! I will toss the rogue in a blanket.
A lousy slave! I’ll throw the rascal in a blanket.
Do, an thou darest for thy heart: an thou dost, I’ll canvass thee between a pair of sheets.
Do it, if you dare: if you do, I’ll beat you between a pair of sheets.
The music is come, sir.
The music’s here, sir.
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, gentlemen. Sit on my lap, Doll. A bragging scoundrel! the rogue ran away from me like quicksilver.
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?
Honestly, and you followed him like a church. You little bastard Bartholomew pig, when will you stop fighting by day and fencing by night, and start fixing up your old body for heaven?
Peace, good Doll! do not speak like a death’s-head; do not bid me remember mine end.
Quiet, good Doll! don’t talk like a skeleton; don’t remind me of my end.
Sirrah, what humour’s the prince of?
What mood is the prince in?
A good shallow young fellow: a’ would have made a good pantler, a’ would ha’ chipp’d bread well.
A good, silly young man: he would’ve made a good pantry man, he would’ve sliced bread well.
They say Poins has a good wit.
They say Poins has a good sense of humor.
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.
He, a good sense of humor? Hang him, monkey! His humor’s as thick as Tewksbury mustard; there’s no more cleverness in him than there is in a hammer.
Why does the prince love him so, then?
Why does the prince love him so, then?
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 both the same size, and he plays at quoits well, and eats conger and fennel, and drinks candle stubs for flap-dragons, and rides the wild-mare with the boys, and jumps on joined-stools, and swears nicely, and wears his boots very smooth, like the sign of the leg, and doesn’t cause trouble by telling discreet stories; and has other playful skills that show a weak mind and a strong body, which is why the prince accepts him: for the prince himself is just the same; the weight of a hair could tip the balance between them.
Would not this nave of a wheel have his ears cut off?
Wouldn’t this fool of a man have his ears cut off?
Let’s beat him before his whore.
Let’s beat him before his prostitute.
Look, whether the withered elder hath not his poll clawed like a parrot.
Look, whether the old man’s head isn’t being clawed like a parrot’s.
Is it not strange that desire should so many years outlive performance?
Isn’t it strange that desire should last so many years without ever being fulfilled?
Kiss me, Doll.
Kiss me, Doll.
Saturn and Venus this year in conjunction! what says the almanac to that?
Saturn and Venus are in conjunction this year! What does the almanac say about that?
And look, whether the fiery Trigon, his man, be not lisping to his master’s old tables, his note-book, his counsel-keeper.
And see if the fiery Trigon, his man, isn’t whispering to his master’s old books, his notebook, his counsel-keeper.
Thou dost give me flattering busses.
You’re giving me flattering kisses.
By my troth, I kiss thee with a most constant heart.
I swear, I kiss you with a truly loyal heart.
I am old, I am old.
I’m old, I’m old.
I love thee better than I love e’er a scurvy young boy of them all.
I love you more than I love any of those nasty young boys of theirs.
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 kind of stuff do you want for a dress? I’ll get money on Thursday; you’ll have a cap tomorrow. A merry song, come on: it’s getting late; let’s go to bed. You’ll forget me when I’m gone.
By my troth, thou’lt set me a-weeping, an thou sayest so: prove that ever I dress myself handsome till thy return: well, harken at the end.
I swear, you’ll make me cry if you say that: prove that I’ll ever dress myself nicely until you come back: well, listen at the end.
Some sack, Francis.
Some wine, Francis.
Anon, anon, sir.
Soon, soon, sir.
Ha! a bastard son of the king’s? And art not thou Poins his brother?
Ha! A bastard son of the king’s? And aren’t you Poins’s brother?
Why, thou globe of sinful continents! what a life dost thou lead!
Why, you big globe of sinful nations! What kind of life are you leading?
A better than thou: I am a gentleman; thou art a drawer.
A better one than yours: I’m a gentleman; you’re just a drawer.
Very true, sir; and I come to draw you out by the ears.
That’s true enough, sir; and I’ve come to drag you out by the ears.
O, the Lord preserve thy good grace! by my troth, welcome to London. Now, the Lord bless that sweet face of thine! O, Jesu, are you come from Wales?
Oh, may the Lord keep you in his good graces! By my word, welcome to London. Now, may the Lord bless that sweet face of yours! Oh, Jesus, have you come from Wales?
Thou whoreson mad compound of majesty, by this light flesh and corrupt blood, thou art welcome.
You bastardly mixture of nobility, by this light of flesh and corrupt blood, you’re welcome.
How, you fat fool! I scorn you.
What, you fat fool! I despise you.
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 take you out of your revenge and turn everything into a joke, if you don’t control your temper.
You whoreson candle-mine, you, how vilely did you speak of me even now before this honest, virtuous, civil gentlewoman!
You bastardly scoundrel, how dare you speak of me like that just now in front of this honest, virtuous, civil lady!
God’s blessing of your good heart! and so she is, by my troth.
God bless your kind heart! and she is, by my word.
Didst thou hear me?
Did you hear me?
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 me, just like when you ran away at Gad’s Hill: you knew I was right behind you, and said it on purpose to test my patience.
No, no, no; not so; I did not think thou wast within hearing.
No, no, no; not at all; I didn’t think you were close enough to hear.
I shall drive you then to confess the wilful abuse; and then I know how to handle you.
I’ll make you confess your deliberate wrongdoings; and then I’ll know how to deal with you.
No abuse, Hal, o’ mine honour, no abuse.
No insult, Hal, I swear on my honor, no insult.
Not to dispraise me, and call me pantier and bread-chipper and I know not what?
Not calling me a panting dog, a bread-eater, and I don’t know what else?
No abuse, Hal.
No insult, Hal.
No abuse?
No insult?
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 insult, Ned, not in the world; honest Ned, none. I talked badly about him in front of bad people, so that the bad people wouldn’t like him; in doing that, I acted like a careful friend and a loyal subject, and your father should thank me for it. No insult, Hal: none, Ned, none: no, really, boys, none.
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?
See now, whether pure fear and complete cowardice don’t make you misjudge this virtuous woman by siding with us? Is she one of the bad ones? Is your landlady one of the bad ones? Or is your boy one of the bad ones? Or honest Bardolph, whose passion is burning in his nose, is he one of the bad ones?
Answer, thou dead elm, answer.
Answer, you useless piece of wood, answer.
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 outbids him too.
The devil has ruined Bardolph beyond repair; and his face is like Lucifer’s private kitchen, where he does nothing but roast little bugs. As for the boy, there’s a good angel around him; but the devil outbids him too.
For the women?
What about the women?
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’s already in hell, burning poor souls. As for the other, I owe her money, and whether she’s damned for that, I don’t know.
No, I warrant you.
No, I swear you’re not.
No, I think thou art not; I think thou art quit for that. Marry, there is another indictment upon thee, for suffering flesh to be eaten in thy house, contrary to the law; for the which I think thou wilt howl.
No, I think you’re not; I think you’re safe from that. But there’s another charge against you, for letting meat be eaten in your house, which goes against the law; and for that, I think you’ll end up crying.
All victuallers do so; what’s a joint of mutton or two in a whole Lent?
All shopkeepers do that; what’s a bit of mutton or two during Lent?
You, gentlewoman,-
You, madam,-
What says your grace?
What is it, your grace?
His grace says that which his flesh rebels against.
His grace says what his body rebels against.
Who knocks so loud at door? Look to the door there, Francis.
Who’s knocking so loudly at the door? Francis, check the door.
Peto, how now! what news?
Peto, what’s going on? Any news?
The king your father is at Westminster: And there are twenty weak and wearied posts Come from the north: and, as I came along, I met and overtook a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking every one for Sir John Falstaff.
The king, your father, is at Westminster: And there are twenty tired and worn-out messengers From the north. As I was coming here, I passed and caught up with a dozen captains, Bare-headed, sweating, knocking at the taverns, And asking everyone for Sir John Falstaff.
By heaven, Poins, I feel me much to blame, So idly to profane the precious time, When tempest of commotion, like the south Borne with black vapour, doth begin to melt And drop upon our bare unarmed heads. Give me my sword and cloak. Falstaff, good night.
By heaven, Poins, I feel guilty, Wasting precious time so carelessly, While a storm of trouble, like a southern wind, Rising with dark clouds, starts to gather And fall on our exposed, unprotected heads. Give me my sword and cloak. Good night, Falstaff.
Now comes in the sweetest morsel of the night, and we must hence and leave it unpicked.
Now comes the best part of the night, and we must leave it untouched.
More knocking at the door!
More knocking at the door!
How now! what’s the matter?
What’s going on? What’s the matter?
You must away to court, sir, presently; A dozen captains stay at door for you.
You must go to court, sir, right away; A dozen captains are waiting at the door for you.
[To the Page] Pay the musicians, sirrah. Farewell, hostess; farewell, Doll. You see, my good wenches, how men of merit are sought after: the undeserver may sleep, when the man of action is called on. Farewell good wenches: if I be not sent away post, I will see you again ere I go.
[To the Page] Pay the musicians, boy. Goodbye, hostess; goodbye, Doll. You see, my good girls, how men of worth are always in demand: the ones who don’t deserve it can sleep, while the active man is called on. Goodbye, good girls: if I’m not sent away quickly, I’ll see you again before I leave.
I cannot speak; if my heart be not read to burst,-- well, sweet Jack, have a care of thyself.
I can’t speak; if my heart isn’t about to burst,-- well, sweet Jack, take care of yourself.
Farewell, farewell.
Goodbye, goodbye.
Well, fare thee well: I have known thee these twenty-nine years, come peascod-time; but an honester and truer-hearted man,--well, fare thee well.
Well, goodbye: I’ve known you for twenty-nine years, since the time of peascods; but you’ve been a more honest and faithful man than anyone else,—well, goodbye.
[Within] Mistress Tearsheet!
[Offstage] Mistress Tearsheet!
What’s the matter?
What’s wrong?
[Within] Good Mistress Tearsheet, come to my master.
[Offstage] Good Mistress Tearsheet, come to my master.
O, run, Doll, run; run, good Doll: come.
Oh, hurry, Doll, hurry; come on, good Doll: hurry.
Yea, will you come, Doll?
Yes, are you coming, Doll?