The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Read online

  That marry wives. Tell me, how if my brother,

  Who, as you say, took pains to get this son,

  Had of your father claim'd this son for his?

  In sooth, good friend, your father might have kept

  This calf, bred from his cow, from all the world;

  In sooth, he might; then, if he were my brother's,

  My brother might not claim him; nor your father,

  Being none of his, refuse him. This concludes:

  My mother's son did get your father's heir;

  Your father's heir must have your father's land.

  Sir, your brother's legitimate:

  your father's wife had him after they were married,

  and if she cheated, that was her sin;

  that's a sin all husbands who marry wives

  have to risk. Tell me, what if my brother,

  whom you claim made great efforts to father this son,

  told your father this son was his?

  Truly, good friend, your father would have kept

  this calf, bred from his cow, hidden from the world;

  he really might have; then, if he were my brother's,

  my brother might not claim him; and your father,

  as it had nothing to do with him, would refuse him. To conclude:

  my mother's son fathered your father's heir,

  so your father's heir must have your father's land.

  ROBERT.

  Shall then my father's will be of no force

  To dispossess that child which is not his?

  So my father's will doesn't have the power

  to disinherit the child which isn't his?

  BASTARD.

  Of no more force to dispossess me, sir,

  Than was his will to get me, as I think.

  He's no more able to disinherit me, sir,

  than he was able to conceive me, I think.

  ELINOR.

  Whether hadst thou rather be a Faulconbridge,

  And like thy brother, to enjoy thy land,

  Or the reputed son of Coeur-de-lion,

  Lord of thy presence and no land beside?

  Would you rather be a Faulconbridge,

  and have the land like your brother,

  or be thought of as the son of the Lionheart,

  with a lordly title but no land?

  BASTARD.

  Madam, an if my brother had my shape

  And I had his, Sir Robert's his, like him;

  And if my legs were two such riding-rods,

  My arms such eel-skins stuff'd, my face so thin

  That in mine ear I durst not stick a rose

  Lest men should say 'Look where three-farthings goes!'

  And, to his shape, were heir to all this land-

  Would I might never stir from off this place,

  I would give it every foot to have this face!

  I would not be Sir Nob in any case.

  Madam, if my brother looked like me,

  and I looked like him, like Sir Robert;

  if my legs were two beanpoles like his,

  my arms like such stuffed eelskins, my face so thin

  that I wouldn't dare put a rose behind my ear,

  in case men said, “look, there goes a queen!"

  If having his body made me heir to the whole country

  I would never leave this place,

  I would give up every foot of it to keep my own face!

  I wouldn't be Sir Robert for anything.

  ELINOR.

  I like thee well. Wilt thou forsake thy fortune,

  Bequeath thy land to him and follow me?

  I am a soldier and now bound to France.

  I like you. Will you give up your fortune,

  leave your land to him and follow me?

  I am a soldier and am now going to France.

  BASTARD.

  Brother, take you my land, I'll take my chance.

  Your face hath got five hundred pound a year,

  Yet sell your face for fivepence and 'tis dear.

  Madam, I'll follow you unto the death.

  Brother, you take my land, I'll take my chances.

  Your face has got you five hundred pounds a year,

  but if you sold your face for fivepence that would be too much.

  Madam, I'll follow you to the death.

  ELINOR.

  Nay, I would have you go before me thither.

  No, if were going there are sooner you were ahead of me.

  BASTARD.

  Our country manners give our betters way.

  In the country we always let our betters go first.

  KING JOHN.

  What is thy name?

  What is your name?

  BASTARD.

  Philip, my liege, so is my name begun:

  Philip, good old Sir Robert's wife's eldest son.

  Philip, my lord, is my first name:

  Philip, the eldest son of the wife of good old Sir Robert.

  KING JOHN.

  From henceforth bear his name whose form thou

  bearest:

  Kneel thou down Philip, but rise more great-

  Arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.

  From now on carry the name of the one you resemble:

  kneel down as Philip, but get up greater;

  arise Sir Richard and Plantagenet.

  BASTARD.

  Brother by th' mother's side, give me your hand;

  My father gave me honour, yours gave land.

  Now blessed be the hour, by night or day,

  When I was got, Sir Robert was away!

  Brother or my mother's side, give me your hand;

  my father gave me honour, yours gave you land.

  May the hour be blessed, whether it was night or day,

  when I was conceived, and Sir Robert was away!

  ELINOR.

  The very spirit of Plantagenet!

  I am thy grandam, Richard: call me so.

  Just like a Plantagenet!

  I am your grandmother, Richard: call me that.

  BASTARD.

  Madam, by chance, but not by truth; what though?

  Something about, a little from the right,

  In at the window, or else o'er the hatch;

  Who dares not stir by day must walk by night;

  And have is have, however men do catch.

  Near or far off, well won is still well shot;

  And I am I, howe'er I was begot.

  Madam, through chance, not honourable conduct; but so what?

  Just irregularly, from the side,

  in at the window, or else through the hatch;

  someone who dares not be seen in the day must walk in the night;

  to have is to have, however you get it.

  Near or far, if you hit the target it is a good shot;

  and I am who I am, however I was conceived.

  KING JOHN.

  Go, Faulconbridge; now hast thou thy desire:

  A landless knight makes thee a landed squire.

  Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must speed

  For France, for France, for it is more than need.

  Go, Faulconbridge; now you have what you want;

  a knight without land has made you a landed gentleman.

  Come, madam, and come, Richard, we must hurry

  to France, our presence there is essential.

  BASTARD.

  Brother, adieu. Good fortune come to thee!

  For thou wast got i' th' way of honesty.

  Exeunt all but the BASTARD

  A foot of honour better than I was;

  But many a many foot of land the worse.

  Well, now can I make any Joan a lady.

  'Good den, Sir Richard!'-'God-a-mercy, fellow!'

  And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter;

  For new-made honour doth forget men's names:

  'Tis too respective and too sociable

  For your conversion. Now your traveller,

>   He and his toothpick at my worship's mess-

  And when my knightly stomach is suffic'd,

  Why then I suck my teeth and catechize

  My picked man of countries: 'My dear sir,'

  Thus leaning on mine elbow I begin

  'I shall beseech you'-That is question now;

  And then comes answer like an Absey book:

  'O sir,' says answer 'at your best command,

  At your employment, at your service, sir!'

  'No, sir,' says question 'I, sweet sir, at yours.'

  And so, ere answer knows what question would,

  Saving in dialogue of compliment,

  And talking of the Alps and Apennines,

  The Pyrenean and the river Po-

  It draws toward supper in conclusion so.

  But this is worshipful society,

  And fits the mounting spirit like myself;

  For he is but a bastard to the time

  That doth not smack of observation-

  And so am I, whether I smack or no;

  And not alone in habit and device,

  Exterior form, outward accoutrement,

  But from the inward motion to deliver

  Sweet, sweet, sweet poison for the age's tooth;

  Which, though I will not practise to deceive,

  Yet, to avoid deceit, I mean to learn;

  For it shall strew the footsteps of my rising.

  But who comes in such haste in riding-robes?

  What woman-post is this? Hath she no husband

  That will take pains to blow a horn before her?

  Enter LADY FAULCONBRIDGE, and JAMES GURNEY

  O me, 'tis my mother! How now, good lady!

  What brings you here to court so hastily?

  Goodbye, brother: may you have good luck!

  For you were conceived legitimately.

  [All leave except the Bastard]

  I was given a better position,

  but lost plenty of land.

  Well, now I can make any tart a lady.

  “Good day, Sir Richard!"–“God bless you, fellow!"–

  And if he is called George, I'll call him Peter;

  for newly created noblemen can't remember men's names:

  that would be too respectful and too friendly

  for your new position. Now a traveller,

  sitting with his toothpick at my table,

  when I've had plenty to eat,

  then I shall suck my teeth and question

  my chosen travelling man: “my dear sir,"

  that's how I'll begin, leaning on my elbow,

  “I must ask you,"–that is the question;

  and the answer will come back like a textbook:

  “Oh sir," says the answer, “I'm yours to command;

  I will work for you, I'm at your service, sir."

  “No, sir," says the question, “oh I, sweet sir, am at yours."

  And so, before he even knows what I want,

  except that I want respect,

  he'll be talking about the Alps and the Apennines,

  the Pyrenees and the River Po,

  and so supper comes to an end.

  But this is high society,

  suitable for someone on the up like me;

  I'll only be seen as a bastard by

  someone who can't see what I've become;

  that which I am, disguised or not.

  And not just through my clothes and crest,

  the way I look on the outside,

  but from the inside I shall provide

  sweet flattery for their appetites:

  which I won't use to deceive,

  but to avoid being deceived, I shall learn about it;

  for flattery will be all around me as I rise up.

  But who is this coming so quickly in riding clothes?

  What female messenger is this? Doesn't she have a husband

  to make the effort to blow a horn to show she's coming?

  [Enter Lady Faulconbridge and James Gurney]

  Hello! It's my mother.–How are you, good lady?

  Why have you come rushing to court?

  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.

  Where is that slave, thy brother?

  Where is he

  That holds in chase mine honour up and down?

  Where is that swine, your brother?

  Where is the one who's trying to destroy my honour?

  BASTARD.

  My brother Robert, old Sir Robert's son?

  Colbrand the giant, that same mighty man?

  Is it Sir Robert's son that you seek so?

  My brother Robert, the son of old Sir Robert?

  Colbrand the giant, that great man?

  Is it Sir Robert's son that you are looking for?

  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.

  Sir Robert's son! Ay, thou unreverend boy,

  Sir Robert's son! Why scorn'st thou at Sir Robert?

  He is Sir Robert's son, and so art thou.

  Sir Robert's son! Yes, you disrespectful boy,

  Sir Robert's son! Why are you mocking Sir Robert?

  He is Sir Robert's son, and so are you.

  BASTARD.

  James Gurney, wilt thou give us leave awhile?

  James Gurney, will you give us a moment?

  GURNEY.

  Good leave, good Philip.

  Certainly, good Philip.

  BASTARD.

  Philip-Sparrow! James,

  There's toys abroad-anon I'll tell thee more.

  Philip's a name for sparrows! James,

  gifts have been handed out–I'll tell you more soon.

  Exit GURNEY

  Madam, I was not old Sir Robert's son;

  Sir Robert might have eat his part in me

  Upon Good Friday, and ne'er broke his fast.

  Sir Robert could do: well-marry, to confess-

  Could he get me? Sir Robert could not do it:

  We know his handiwork. Therefore, good mother,

  To whom am I beholding for these limbs?

  Sir Robert never holp to make this leg.

  Madam, I was not the son of old Sir Robert;

  Sir Robert could have had the part of me he created

  to eat on Good Friday and not broken his fast.

  Sir Robert was capable, we might as well admit it,

  but could he create me? Sir Robert couldn't do it:

  we know what his children look like. Therefore, good mother,

  who do I get this body from?

  Sir Robert never helped to make thisleg.

  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.

  Hast thou conspired with thy brother too,

  That for thine own gain shouldst defend mine honour?

  What means this scorn, thou most untoward knave?

  Have you conspired with your brother as well,

  when you ought to be defending my honour?

  What do you mean by this contempt, you ill mannered scoundrel?

  BASTARD.

  Knight, knight, good mother, Basilisco-like.

  What! I am dubb'd; I have it on my shoulder.

  But, mother, I am not Sir Robert's son:

  I have disclaim'd Sir Robert and my land;

  Legitimation, name, and all is gone.

  Then, good my mother, let me know my father-

  Some proper man, I hope. Who was it, mother?

  Knight, knight, good mother, like Basilisco.

  What! I have been knighted; I've been touched on the shoulder.

  But mother, I am not the son of Sir Robert:

  I have given up Sir Robert and my land;

  legitimacy, title and everything has gone.

  So, my good mother, tell me who my father is–

  some good man, I hope. Who was it, mother?

  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.

  Hast thou denied thyself a Faulconbridge?

  Have you rejected the name of Faulconbridge?

  BASTARD.

  As faithfully as I deny the devil.

  As st
rongly as I reject the devil.

  LADY FAULCONBRIDGE.

  King Richard Coeur-de-lion was thy father.

  By long and vehement suit I was seduc'd

  To make room for him in my husband's bed.

  Heaven lay not my transgression to my charge!

  Thou art the issue of my dear offence,

  Which was so strongly urg'd past my defence.

  King Richard the Lionheart was your father.

  Through long and aggressive persuasion he seduced me

  into making room for him in my husband's bed.

  May Heaven not punish me for this sin!

  You are the result of my great offence,

  which I was almost forced into committing.

  BASTARD.

  Now, by this light, were I to get again,

  Madam, I would not wish a better father.

  Some sins do bear their privilege on earth,

  And so doth yours: your fault was not your folly;

  Needs must you lay your heart at his dispose,

  Subjected tribute to commanding love,

  Against whose fury and unmatched force

  The aweless lion could not wage the fight

  Nor keep his princely heart from Richard's hand.

  He that perforce robs lions of their hearts

  May easily win a woman's. Ay, my mother,

  With all my heart I thank thee for my father!

  Who lives and dares but say thou didst not well

  When I was got, I'll send his soul to hell.

  Come, lady, I will show thee to my kin;

  And they shall say when Richard me begot,

  If thou hadst said him nay, it had been sin.

  Who says it was, he lies; I say 'twas not.

  Now, I swear, madam, if I was to be

  conceived again, I couldn't wish for a better father.

  Some sins bring rewards on earth,

  and yours does: your sin was not stupid;

  you had to give him your heart: