|
Henry IV i
·II iv 5 ·
Prose
Prince Hal With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four score hogsheads. I have sounded the very base-string of humility. Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis. They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king of courtesy; and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, by the Lord, so they call me, and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap. They call drinking deep, dyeing scarlet; and when you breathe in your watering, they cry 'hem!' and bid you play it off. To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life. I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet action. But, sweet Ned,.to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar, clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spake other English in his life than 'Eight shillings and sixpence' and 'You are welcome,' with this shrill addition, 'Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-Moon,' or so. But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do thou stand in some by-room, while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar; and do thou never leave calling 'Francis,' that his tale to me may be nothing but 'Anon.' Step aside, and I'll show thee a precedent. |
Original: With three or four loggerheads amongst three or four score hogsheads.
Modern: With three or four idiots working among eighty barrels of alcohol.
Original: I have sounded the very base-string of humility.
Modern: I’ve reached the lowest depths of being humble and common.
Original: Sirrah, I am sworn brother to a leash of drawers; and can call them all by their christen names, as Tom, Dick, and Francis.
Modern: Listen, I’ve become best friends with a group of bartenders, and I can call them all by their first names, like Tom, Dick, and Francis.
Original: They take it already upon their salvation, that though I be but the prince of Wales, yet I am king of courtesy;
Modern: They swear on their souls that even though I’m only the Prince of Wales, I’m the king of being friendly and down-to-earth.
Original: and tell me flatly I am no proud Jack, like Falstaff, but a Corinthian, a lad of mettle, a good boy, by the Lord, so they call me,
Modern: They tell me straight out that I’m not an arrogant jerk like Falstaff, but a fun-loving guy, a spirited young man, a good fellow—that’s what they call me.
Original: and when I am king of England, I shall command all the good lads in Eastcheap.
Modern: And when I become king of England, I’ll be in charge of all the cool guys in this neighborhood.
Original: They call drinking deep, dyeing scarlet;
Modern: They call heavy drinking “dyeing scarlet” (getting red-faced from alcohol).
Original: and when you breathe in your watering, they cry ‘hem!’ and bid you play it off.
Modern: And when you pause to catch your breath while drinking, they clear their throats and tell you to keep going and finish it.
Original: To conclude, I am so good a proficient in one quarter of an hour, that I can drink with any tinker in his own language during my life.
Modern: In short, I’ve become so skilled in just fifteen minutes that I can now drink with any common laborer using their slang for the rest of my life.
Original: I tell thee, Ned, thou hast lost much honour, that thou wert not with me in this sweet action.
Modern: I’m telling you, Ned, you’ve missed out on a lot of fun by not being here with me for this great time.
Original: But, sweet Ned, to sweeten which name of Ned, I give thee this pennyworth of sugar,
Modern: But, dear Ned—and to make your name even sweeter—I’m giving you this small packet of sugar,
Original: clapped even now into my hand by an under-skinker, one that never spake other English in his life than ‘Eight shillings and sixpence’ and ‘You are welcome,’
Modern: which was just now slipped into my hand by an assistant bartender, a guy who’s never said anything else in English except “Eight shillings and sixpence” and “You are welcome,”
Original: with this shrill addition, ‘Anon, anon, sir! Score a pint of bastard in the Half-Moon,’ or so.
Modern: along with this high-pitched addition: “Coming right away, sir! Mark down a pint of cheap wine for the Half-Moon room,” or something like that.
Original: But, Ned, to drive away the time till Falstaff come, I prithee, do thou stand in some by-room,
Modern: But, Ned, to pass the time until Falstaff gets here, I’m asking you to please stand in some side room,
Original: while I question my puny drawer to what end he gave me the sugar;
Modern: while I ask this young bartender why he gave me the sugar.
Original: and do thou never leave calling ‘Francis,’ that his tale to me may be nothing but ‘Anon.’
Modern: And you keep calling out “Francis” so that his only response to me will be “Coming right away!”
Original: Step aside, and I’ll show thee a precedent.
Modern: Step aside, and I’ll show you an example of what I mean.
In Act II, Scene iv of Henry IV, Part 1, Prince Hal and Poins arrive at the Boar’s Head Tavern in Eastcheap, where they encounter Falstaff and other tavern dwellers. Falstaff immediately begins recounting his version of the Gad’s Hill robbery from the previous scene, dramatically embellishing the tale and claiming he fought off numerous attackers. As he tells his story, the number of his supposed opponents keeps increasing - first two men, then four, then seven, then nine, then eleven. Hal and Poins listen with amusement as Falstaff’s account becomes increasingly preposterous, with him claiming to have fought valiantly against overwhelming odds.
Eventually, Hal reveals the truth - that he and Poins were the masked men who robbed Falstaff and his companions, and that Falstaff ran away without fighting. Rather than being embarrassed, Falstaff cleverly turns the situation around, claiming he recognized the Prince all along and fled because he would not fight against the heir to the throne. The scene then shifts as Hal and Falstaff engage in a mock play-acting exercise, taking turns portraying King Henry IV and Prince Hal in preparation for Hal’s inevitable confrontation with his father. Their performance is interrupted by the arrival of the Sheriff and his men, who are searching for the Gad’s Hill robbers. Hal hides Falstaff and speaks with the Sheriff, promising that justice will be done, before the officers depart.
Henry IV, Part I follows the political and personal struggles of King Henry IV as he faces rebellion from powerful nobles while dealing with his wayward son, Prince Hal. The play opens with Henry’s guilt over having deposed Richard II and his disappointment in his eldest son, who spends his time in taverns with the disreputable Sir John Falstaff rather than at court. Meanwhile, the Percy family—led by Henry “Hotspur” Percy, his father the Earl of Northumberland, and his uncle the Earl of Worcester—grows increasingly resentful of the king’s treatment of them despite their crucial role in placing him on the throne.
The Percys form an alliance with Welsh rebel Owen Glendower and Scottish rebel the Earl of Douglas to overthrow Henry IV. Hotspur, a fiery young warrior obsessed with honor, becomes the rebellion’s military leader. Simultaneously, Prince Hal reveals in soliloquy that he deliberately maintains his dissolute reputation to make his eventual reformation more impressive. When his father confronts him about his behavior and unfavorably compares him to the noble Hotspur, Hal promises to redeem himself by defeating his rival in battle.
The rebellion comes to a head at the Battle of Shrewsbury, where the royal forces face the rebel army. During the battle, Prince Hal saves his father’s life and fulfills his promise by killing Hotspur in single combat, finally proving his worthiness as heir to the throne. Falstaff, who has been cowardly throughout the battle, claims credit for Hotspur’s death after discovering the body. The king’s forces win the battle, with Worcester and Douglas captured, though some rebels escape. The play concludes with the king’s victory secured but the realm’s troubles not entirely resolved, as other rebels remain at large and the crown’s stability depends on continued military action.