Original
Modern English
Nay, that’s right; but why wear you your leek today? Saint Davy’s day is past.
Well, that’s right; but why are you wearing your leek today? Saint David’s Day is over.
There is occasions and causes why and wherefore in all things: I will tell you, asse my friend, Captain Gower: the rascally, scald, beggarly, lousy, pragging knave, Pistol, which you and yourself and all the world know to be no petter than a fellow, look you now, of no merits, he is come to me and prings me pread and salt yesterday, look you, and bid me eat my leek: it was in place where I could not breed no contention with him; but I will be so bold as to wear it in my cap till I see him once again, and then I will tell him a little piece of my desires.
There are reasons and explanations for everything: I’ll tell you, my friend, Captain Gower: the scoundrel, filthy, poor, lice-ridden, bragging fool, Pistol, whom you and you and everyone know he’s no better than a guy, see, with no real qualities, he has come to me and brought me bread and salt yesterday, see, and told me to eat my leek: it was in a place where I couldn’t start any fight with him; but I’ll be bold enough to wear it in my cap until I see him again, and then I’ll tell him a little bit of what I want.
Why, here he comes, swelling like a turkey-cock.
Look, here he comes, puffed up like a turkey.
’Tis no matter for his swellings nor his turkey-cocks. God pless you, Aunchient Pistol! you scurvy, lousy knave, God pless you!
It doesn’t matter how puffed up he is or his turkeys. God bless you, Ancient Pistol! you filthy, scummy fool, God bless you!
Ha! art thou bedlam? dost thou thirst, base Trojan, To have me fold up Parca’s fatal web? Hence! I am qualmish at the smell of leek.
Ha! are you crazy? do you want, you dirty Trojan, to see me spin Parca’s fatal thread? Go away! I feel sick just smelling the leek.
I peseech you heartily, scurvy, lousy knave, at my desires, and my requests, and my petitions, to eat, look you, this leek: because, look you, you do not love it, nor your affections and your appetites and your digestions doo’s not agree with it, I would desire you to eat it.
I beg you, seriously, you filthy, scummy fool, by my wishes, and my requests, and my pleas, to eat, you see, this leek: because, you see, you don’t like it, nor does your heart or your stomach or your digestion agree with it, I’d still ask you to eat it.
Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
Not for Cadwallader and all his goats.
There is one goat for you.
Here’s a goat for you.
Will you be so good, scauld knave, as eat it?
Will you be kind enough, you scum, to eat it?
Base Trojan, thou shalt die.
You dirty Trojan, you’ll die for this.
You say very true, scauld knave, when God’s will is: I will desire you to live in the mean time, and eat your victuals: come, there is sauce for it.
You’re right, filthy fool, when it’s God’s will: I’ll ask you to live in the meantime, and eat your food: come on, here’s the sauce for it.
You called me yesterday mountain-squire; but I will make you to-day a squire of low degree. I pray you, fall to: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
You called me a mountain-squire yesterday; but I’ll make you a lowly squire today. I ask you, go ahead: if you can mock a leek, you can eat a leek.
Enough, captain: you have astonished him.
Enough, captain: you’ve shocked him.
I say, I will make him eat some part of my leek, or I will peat his pate four days. Bite, I pray you; it is good for your green wound and your ploody coxcomb.
I’m telling you, I will make him eat some of my leek, or I’ll hit him on the head for four days. Bite it, I ask you; it is good for your green wound and your bloody fool.
Must I bite?
Do I have to bite it?
Yes, certainly, and out of doubt and out of question too, and ambiguities.
Yes, definitely, without a doubt, and no question either, and no confusing answers.
By this leek, I will most horribly revenge: I eat and eat, I swear--
By this leek, I’ll get revenge in the worst way: I’ll eat and eat, I swear—
Eat, I pray you: will you have some more sauce to your leek? there is not enough leek to swear by.
Eat, I beg you: do you want some more sauce for your leek? There’s not enough leek to swear by.
Quiet thy cudgel; thou dost see I eat.
Calm down with your stick; you see I’m eating.
Much good do you, scauld knave, heartily. Nay, pray you, throw none away; the skin is good for your broken coxcomb. When you take occasions to see leeks hereafter, I pray you, mock at ’em; that is all.
I hope it does you good, you scalded fool, truly. No, really, don’t throw any away; the skin is good for your broken fool’s head. When you see leeks again in the future, I ask you to mock them; that’s all.
Good.
Fine.
Ay, leeks is good: hold you, there is a groat to heal your pate.
Yes, leeks are good: here, take this coin to heal your head.
Me a groat!
Me, a coin!
Yes, verily and in truth, you shall take it; or I have another leek in my pocket, which you shall eat.
Yes, truly, you will take it; or I’ll have another leek in my pocket, which you will eat.
I take thy groat in earnest of revenge.
I take your coin as a promise of revenge.
If I owe you any thing, I will pay you in cudgels: you shall be a woodmonger, and buy nothing of me but cudgels. God b’ wi’ you, and keep you, and heal your pate.
If I owe you anything, I’ll pay you in cudgels: you’ll be a wood seller, and buy nothing from me but cudgels. God be with you, and keep you, and heal your head.
All hell shall stir for this.
All hell will break loose for this.
Go, go; you are a counterfeit cowardly knave. Will you mock at an ancient tradition, begun upon an honourable respect, and worn as a memorable trophy of predeceased valour and dare not avouch in your deeds any of your words? I have seen you gleeking and galling at this gentleman twice or thrice. You thought, because he could not speak English in the native garb, he could not therefore handle an English cudgel: you find it otherwise; and henceforth let a Welsh correction teach you a good English condition. Fare ye well.
Go, go; you’re a fake, cowardly scoundrel. Will you mock an old tradition, started out of honorable respect, and worn as a proud symbol of past bravery and dare not prove any of your words by your actions? I’ve seen you sneering and You’ve mocked this man twice or thrice. You thought, because he couldn’t speak English perfectly, he couldn’t fight with an English weapon: you see it’s not like that; and from now on, let a Welsh lesson show you a good English way. Farewell.
Doth Fortune play the huswife with me now? News have I, that my Nell is dead i’ the spital Of malady of France; And there my rendezvous is quite cut off. Old I do wax; and from my weary limbs Honour is cudgelled. Well, bawd I’ll turn, And something lean to cutpurse of quick hand. To England will I steal, and there I’ll steal: And patches will I get unto these cudgell’d scars, And swear I got them in the Gallia wars.
Is Fortune messing with me now? I’ve heard news, that my Nell died in the hospital from a sickness brought from France; And now my meeting place is totally gone. I’m getting old, and my tired body Has lost its honor. Well, I’ll turn to being a pimp, And maybe lean toward being a quick-handed thief. I’ll steal to England, and there I’ll steal: And I’ll cover up these beaten scars, And swear I got them in the wars in Gaul.