The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (115 page)

And sandy-bottom'd Severn have I sent

Him bootless home and weather-beaten back.

Henry Bolingbroke has launched attacks against me

three times; and three times I have sent him

home unsuccessful and weatherbeaten from the banks

of the Wye and the sandy bottomed Severn.

HOT.

Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

How 'scaped he agues, in the Devil's name!

Home without boots, and in foul weather too!

How the devil did he escape the fever?

GLEND.

Come, here's the map:shall we divide our right

According to our threefold order ta'en?

Come, here's the map; shall we divide

up to land according to the agreement we've made?

MORT.

Th' archdeacon hath divided it

Into three limits very equally.

England, from Trent and Severn hitherto,

By south and east is to my part assign'd:

All westward, Wales beyond the Severn shore,

And all the fertile land within that bound,

To Owen Glendower:--and, dear coz, to you

The remnant northward, lying off from Trent.

And our indentures tripartite are drawn;

Which being sealed interchangeably,--

A business that this night may execute,--

To-morrow, cousin Percy, you, and I,

And my good Lord of Worcester, will set forth

To meet your father and the Scottish power,

As is appointed us, at Shrewsbury.

My father Glendower is not ready yet,

Nor shall we need his help these fourteen days:--

[To Glend.] Within that space you may have drawn together

Your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.

The Archdeacon has divided it

into thee very equal parts:

England, from the Trent and the Severn to here,

everything south and east of that is mine:

everything to the west, all of Wales beyond the shores of the Severn,

and all the fertile land inside those boundaries,

goes to Owen Glendower: and you, dear cousin,

take everything left north of the Trent.

Our contracts are signed in triplicate,

and once we have put our seals on them–

which is something we can do tonight–

tomorrow, cousin Percy, you and I,

and my good Lord of Worcester, will set out

to meet your father and the Scottish forces,

at Shrewsbury, as we have agreed.

My father Glendower is not ready yet,

and we won't need his help for a fortnight.

[to Glendower] within that time you may have gathered

your tenants, friends, and neighbouring gentlemen.

GLEND.

A shorter time shall send me to you, lords:

And in my conduct shall your ladies come;

From whom you now must steal, and take no leave,

For there will be a world of water shed

Upon the parting of your wives and you.

I'll be with you in a shorter time than that, lords:

and your ladies shall come under my escort;

from the moment you must sneak away from them without saying goodbye,

for there will be an ocean of water shed

when you part from your wives.

HOT.

Methinks my moiety, north from Burton here,

In quantity equals not one of yours.

See how this river comes me cranking in,

And cuts me from the best of all my land

A huge half-moon, a monstrous cantle out.

I'll have the current in this place damn'd up;

And here the smug and sliver Trent shall run

In a new channel, fair and evenly:

It shall not wind with such a deep indent,

To rob me of so rich a bottom here.

I don't think my share, north from Burton here,

at all matches your shares in size.

See how the river comes bending in on me,

and cuts me off from a great half moon

of all my best land, takes away a great portion.

I'll dam the river at this place,

and the smooth and silver Trent shall run

in a fair straight new channel:

it shan't cut such a deep course

that it can rob me of such a fine valley here.

GLEND.

Not wind? it shall, it must; you see it doth.

Not wind? It shall, it must; you can see that it does.

MORT.

Yea, but

Mark how he bears his, and runs me up

With like advantage on the other side;

Gelding th' opposed continent as much

As on the other side it takes from you.

Yes,

but look how the course of the river runs,

taking just as big a piece of my land

on the other side; we both get

an equal advantage.

WOR.

Yea, but a little charge will trench him here,

And on this north side win this cape of land;

And then he runneth straight and evenly.

Yes, but a little explosion could divert it here,

and on this north side he would win this piece of land;

and then it would run straight and even.

HOT.

I'll have it so:a little charge will do it.

I'll do it: a little explosion will do it.

GLEND.

I will not have it alter'd.

I won't have it altered.

HOT.

Will not you?

Won't you?

GLEND.

No, nor you shall not.

No, and neither will you.

HOT.

Who shall say me nay?

Who's going to say I can't?

GLEND.

Why, that will I.

Well, I will.

HOT.

Let me not understand you, then; speak it in Welsh.

Don't let me understand you then; say it in Welsh.

GLEND.

I can speak English, lord, as well as you;

For I was train'd up in the English Court;

Where, being but young, I framed to the harp

Many an English ditty lovely well,

And gave the tongue a helpful ornament,

A virtue that was never seen in you.

I can speak English, lord, as well as you;

for I was brought up in the English court;

where, as I was only young, I learnt to sing

many English songs beautifully well to the harp,

and added music to the words–

something you've never done.

HOT.

Marry, and I am glad of it with all my heart:

I had rather be a kitten, and cry mew,

Than one of these same metre ballet-mongers;

I had rather hear a brazen canstick turn'd,

Or a dry wheel grate on the axletree;

And that would set my teeth nothing on edge,

Nothing so much as mincing poetry:

'Tis like the forced gait of a shuffling nag.

Indeed, and I am extremely glad of it:

I would rather be a kitten, and meow,

than one of these rhythmic song writers;

I would rather hear a bronze candlestick on a lathe,

or a dry wheel grating on its axle;

that wouldn't set my teeth on edge half as much

as mincing poetry:

it's like the forced steps of a shuffling nag.

GLEND.

Come, you shall have Trent turn'd.

Come, you will change the course of the Trent.

HOT.

I do not care:I'll give thrice so much land

To any well-deserving friend;

But in the way of bargain, mark ye me,

I'll cavil on the ninth part of a hair.

Are the indentures drawn? shall we be gone?

I don't care: I will give three times as much land

to any well deserving friend;

but when it's a matter of an agreement, believe me,

I will argue to the last inch.

Are the contracts drawn up? Shall we go?

GLEND.

The Moon shines fair; you may away by night:

I'll in and haste the writer, and withal

Break with your wives of your departure hence:

I am afraid my daughter will run mad,

So much she doteth on her Mortimer.

The moon is shining fair; you can go by night:

I'll go and tell the writer to hurry, and also

break the news of your departure to your wives:

I'm afraid my daughter will go mad,

she adores her Mortimer so much.

[Exit.]

MORT.

Fie, cousin Percy! how you cross my father!

Dammit, cousin Percy! How you annoy my father!

HOT.

I cannot choose:sometimes he angers me

With telling me of the moldwarp and the ant,

Of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

And of a dragon and a finless fish,

A clip-wing'd griffin and a moulten raven,

A couching lion and a ramping cat,

And such a deal of skimble-skamble stuff

As puts me from my faith. I tell you what,

He held me last night at the least nine hours

In reckoning up the several devils' names

That were his lacqueys:I cried hum, and well,

But mark'd him not a word. O, he's as tedious

As a tired horse, a railing wife;

Worse than a smoky house: I had rather live

With cheese and garlic in a windmill, far,

Than feed on cates and have him talk to me

In any summer-house in Christendom.

I can't help it: sometimes he annoys me

telling me about moles and ants,

of the dreamer Merlin and his prophecies,

and of a dragon and a fish without fins,

a wingless Griffin and a moulting raven,

a crouching lion and a leaping cat,

and such a lot of old claptrap

I find it hard to believe anything. I tell you what,

last night he kept me for at least nine hours

telling me the names of all the devils

who were his servants: I cried hum, and well well,

but he paid no attention. Oh, he's as boring

as a tired horse, a complaining wife;

worse than a smoky house: I would far rather live

with cheese and garlic in a windmill

than feed on delicacies and have him talking to me

in any summer house in Christendom.

MORT.

In faith, he is a worthy gentleman;

Exceedingly well-read, and profited

In strange concealments; valiant as a lion,

And wondrous affable, and as bountiful

As mines of India. Shall I tell you, cousin?

He holds your temper in a high respect,

And curbs himself even of his natural scope

When you do cross his humour; faith, he does:

I warrant you, that man is not alive

Might so have tempted him as you have done,

Without the taste of danger and reproof:

But do not use it oft, let me entreat you.