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Modern English
Prithee, honey-sweet husband, let me bring thee to Staines.
Please, my sweet husband, let me take you to Staines.
No; for my manly heart doth yearn. Bardolph, be blithe: Nym, rouse thy vaunting veins: Boy, bristle thy courage up; for Falstaff he is dead, And we must yearn therefore.
No; for my manly heart aches. Bardolph, be happy: Nym, get your boasting blood moving: Boy, lift your spirits; for Falstaff is dead, And we must grieve for him.
Would I were with him, wheresome’er he is, either in heaven or in hell!
I wish I were with him, wherever he is, whether in heaven or hell!
Nay, sure, he’s not in hell: he’s in Arthur’s bosom, if ever man went to Arthur’s bosom. A’ made a finer end and went away an it had been any christom child; a’ parted even just between twelve and one, even at the turning o’ the tide: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile upon his fingers’ ends, I knew there was but one way; for his nose was as sharp as a pen, and a’ babbled of green fields. ’How now, sir John!’ quoth I ’what, man! be o’ good cheer.’ So a’ cried out ’God, God, God!’ three or four times. Now I, to comfort him, bid him a’ should not think of God; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with any such thoughts yet. So a’ bade me lay more clothes on his feet: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I felt to his knees, and they were as cold as any stone, and so upward and upward, and all was as cold as any stone.
No, he’s surely not in hell: he’s in Arthur’s arms, if any man ever was. He made a peaceful exit, just like a baptized child; he passed away right between twelve and one, just as the tide turned: for after I saw him fumble with the sheets and play with flowers and smile at his fingers’ tips, I knew there was only one way; for his nose was sharp as a pen, and he talked about green fields. ‘How now, Sir John!’ I said, ‘What, man! be of good cheer.’ Then he cried ‘God, God, God!’ three or four times. I, to comfort him, told him he shouldn’t think of God yet; I hoped there was no need to trouble himself with such thoughts. So he asked me to cover his feet with more blankets: I put my hand into the bed and felt them, and they were as cold as any stone; then I checked his knees, and they were as cold as any stone, and so I kept going up and up, and all was as cold as any stone.
They say he cried out of sack.
They say he cried out for sack.
Ay, that a’ did.
Yes, he did.
And of women.
And about women.
Nay, that a’ did not.
No, he didn’t.
Yes, that a’ did; and said they were devils incarnate.
Yes, he did; and said they were devils incarnate.
A’ could never abide carnation; ’twas a colour he never liked.
He could never stand the color pink; it was a color he never liked.
A’ said once, the devil would have him about women.
He once said the devil would be after him because of women.
A’ did in some sort, indeed, handle women; but then he was rheumatic, and talked of the whore of Babylon.
He did, in a way, deal with women; but then he was always complaining about his joints, and talked about the whore of Babylon.
Do you not remember, a’ saw a flea stick upon Bardolph’s nose, and a’ said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire?
Don’t you remember, he saw a flea stuck to Bardolph’s nose, and he said it was a black soul burning in hell-fire?
Well, the fuel is gone that maintained that fire: that’s all the riches I got in his service.
Well, the fuel is gone that kept that fire burning: that’s all the money I made in his service.
Shall we shog? the king will be gone from Southampton.
Should we leave? The king will be leaving Southampton.
Come, let’s away. My love, give me thy lips. Look to my chattels and my movables: Let senses rule; the word is ’Pitch and Pay:’ Trust none; For oaths are straws, men’s faiths are wafer-cakes, And hold-fast is the only dog, my duck: Therefore, Caveto be thy counsellor. Go, clear thy c rystals. Yoke-fellows in arms, Let us to France; like horse-leeches, my boys, To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!
Come, let’s go. My love, give me your lips. Look after my things and my belongings: Let reason rule; the plan is ‘Get what you can and pay what you owe:’ Don’t trust anyone; For oaths are worthless, men’s promises are like wafer-thin cakes, And loyalty is the only true friend, my dear: So, let Caveto be your advisor. Go, clear your mind. Fellow soldiers, Let’s head to France; like leeches, my boys, To suck, to suck, the very blood to suck!
And that’s but unwholesome food they say.
And that’s just bad food, they say.
Touch her soft mouth, and march.
Kiss her gently, and let’s go.
Farewell, hostess.
Goodbye, hostess.
I cannot kiss, that is the humour of it; but, adieu.
I can’t kiss, that’s just the way I am; but, goodbye.
Let housewifery appear: keep close, I thee command.
Let housekeeping show: stay close, I command you.
Farewell; adieu.
Goodbye; farewell.