The youth says well. Now hear our English King;
For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
He is prepar'd, and reason too he should.
This apish and unmannerly approach,
This harness'd masque and unadvised revel
This unhair'd sauciness and boyish troops,
The King doth smile at; and is well prepar'd
To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms,
From out the circle of his territories.
That hand which had the strength, even at your door.
To cudgel you and make you take the hatch,
To dive like buckets in concealed wells,
To crouch in litter of your stable planks,
To lie like pawns lock'd up in chests and trunks,
To hug with swine, to seek sweet safety out
In vaults and prisons, and to thrill and shake
Even at the crying of your nation's crow,
Thinking this voice an armed Englishman-
Shall that victorious hand be feebled here
That in your chambers gave you chastisement?
No. Know the gallant monarch is in arms
And like an eagle o'er his aery tow'rs
To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.
And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts,
You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb
Of your dear mother England, blush for shame;
For your own ladies and pale-visag'd maids,
Like Amazons, come tripping after drums,
Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change,
Their needles to lances, and their gentle hearts
To fierce and bloody inclination.
By all the blood that fury ever breathed,
the young man speaks well. Now hear our English king,
for this is what he royally says through me:
he is ready, and he has reason to be–
this apelike rude approach,
this show in armour and foolish revelling,
this beardless cheek with his boyish troops,
the king smiles at; and he is well-prepared
to beat this little war, this pigmy army,
right out of his lands–
the hand that had the strength to come up to your door,
to beat you and make you bolt it,
to make you dive like buckets into hidden wells,
to crouch in the straw of your stables,
to lie like pawns locked up in chests and trunks,
to hug your pigs, to look for sweet safety
in vaults and prisons, and to shiver and shake
even when you heard your national bird crowing,
thinking that the noise was an armed Englishman;
will that victorious hand be held back here,
who beat you in your own rooms?
No: the brave king is prepared
like an eagle hovering over his high nests,
ready to swoop on any annoyance which comes near.
And you degenerate ungratefulrebels,
you bloody Neros, ripping up the womb
of your dear mother England, blush for shame:
for your own ladies and pale faced girls
come tripping after the drums like Amazons,
with their thimbles changed into armed gloves,
their needles into lances, and their gentle hearts
changed to fierce and bloody thoughts.
LEWIS.
There end thy brave, and turn thy face in peace;
We grant thou canst outscold us. Fare thee well;
We hold our time too precious to be spent
With such a brabbler.
Stop your bravado there, and turn away in peace;
we admit that you can outquarrel us. Farewell;
our time is too precious to us to be wasted
on such a brawler.
PANDULPH.
Give me leave to speak.
Give me permission to speak.
BASTARD.
No, I will speak.
No, I will speak.
LEWIS.
We will attend to neither.
Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war,
Plead for our interest and our being here.
I will listen to neither of you.
Strike up the drums; let the voice of war
speak for our interests and our rights.
BASTARD.
Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
And so shall you, being beaten. Do but start
And echo with the clamour of thy drum,
And even at hand a drum is ready brac'd
That shall reverberate all as loud as thine:
Sound but another, and another shall,
As loud as thine, rattle the welkin's ear
And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder; for at hand-
Not trusting to this halting legate here,
Whom he hath us'd rather for sport than need-
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits
A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day
To feast upon whole thousands of the French.
Indeed, your drums, being beaten, will cry out;
and so will you, when you're beaten. Just start
making a noise with your drums,
close by there is a drum ready prepared
to make a noise just as loud as yours:
sound another and you will be matched with one
just as loud as yours which will shake the skies
and imitate the growling thunder; for close by–
not trusting this weak delegate here,
whom he has used as a joke rather than because he needed him–
is warlike John; and along with him there is
the skeleton of death, whose work this day
is to gobble up many thousands of Frenchmen.
LEWIS.
Strike up our drums to find this danger out.
Beat our drums to reveal this danger.
BASTARD.
And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt.
And don't doubt that you will find it, Dauphin.
Exeunt
England. The field of battle
Alarums. Enter KING JOHN and HUBERT
KING JOHN.
How goes the day with us? O, tell me, Hubert.
How is the battle going with us? Oh, tell me, Hubert.
HUBERT.
Badly, I fear. How fares your Majesty?
Badly, I'm afraid. How is your Majesty doing?
KING JOHN.
This fever that hath troubled me so long
Lies heavy on me. O, my heart is sick!
This fever that has bothered me for so long
it is very strong. Oh, I am sick to my heart!
Enter a MESSENGER
MESSENGER.
My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulconbridge,
Desires your Majesty to leave the field
And send him word by me which way you go.
My lord, your brave kinsman, Faulconbridge,
request that your Majesty leaves the battlefield
and send him a message via me as to where you go.
KING JOHN.
Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the abbey there.
Tell him I'll go towards Swinstead, to the abbey there.
MESSENGER.
Be of good comfort; for the great supply
That was expected by the Dauphin here
Are wreck'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands;
This news was brought to Richard but even now.
The French fight coldly, and retire themselves.
Be consoled; for the great force
that the Dauphin was expecting here
was wrecked three nights ago on Goodwin Sands;
Richard has just received the news.
The French are fighting defensively, and retreating.
KING JOHN.
; Ay me, this tyrant fever burns me up
And will not let me welcome this good news.
Set on toward Swinstead; to my litter straight;
Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.
Alas, this overbearing fever burns me up
and won't let me celebrate this good news.
Go towards Swinstead; put me on my litter;
weakness overcomes me, and I am faint.
Exeunt
England. Another part of the battlefield
Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, and BIGOT
SALISBURY.
I did not think the King so stor'd with friends.
I didn't think that the King had such support.
PEMBROKE.
Up once again; put spirit in the French;
If they miscarry, we miscarry too.
Back into battle; put courage into the French;
if they fail, we fail too.
SALISBURY.
That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge,
In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.
That devilish bastard Faulconbridge,
against all the odds, is keeping his side afloat.
PEMBROKE.
They say King John, sore sick, hath left the field.
They say that King John has left the battlefield, very sick.
Enter MELUN, wounded
MELUN.
Lead me to the revolts of England here.
Take me to the English rebels.
SALISBURY.
When we were happy we had other names.
When things were going well we were called differently.
PEMBROKE.
It is the Count Melun.
It is the Count Melun.
SALISBURY.
Wounded to death.
Fatally wounded.
MELUN.
Fly, noble English, you are bought and sold;
Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,
And welcome home again discarded faith.
Seek out King John, and fall before his feet;
For if the French be lords of this loud day,
He means to recompense the pains you take
By cutting off your heads. Thus hath he sworn,
And I with him, and many moe with me,
Upon the altar at Saint Edmundsbury;
Even on that altar where we swore to you
Dear amity and everlasting love.
Flee, noble Englishmen, you have been sold out;
unpick your rude rebellion,
and resume the loyalty you had before.
Look for King John and fall at his feet;
for if the French win this great battle,
we intend to pay you back for your efforts
by cutting off your heads. This is what the King of France
has sworn, along with me and many others,
on the altar at St Edmundsbury;
on the same altar where we swore to you
dear friendship and everlasting love.
SALISBURY.
May this be possible? May this be true?
Can this be possible? Can it be true?
MELUN.
Have I not hideous death within my view,
Retaining but a quantity of life,
Which bleeds away even as a form of wax
Resolveth from his figure 'gainst the fire?
What in the world should make me now deceive,
Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
Why should I then be false, since it is true
That I must die here, and live hence by truth?
I say again, if Lewis do will the day,
He is forsworn if e'er those eyes of yours
Behold another day break in the east;
But even this night, whose black contagious breath
Already smokes about the burning crest
Of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,
Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire,
Paying the fine of rated treachery
Even with a treacherous fine of all your lives.
If Lewis by your assistance win the day.
Commend me to one Hubert, with your King;
The love of him-and this respect besides,
For that my grandsire was an Englishman-
Awakes my conscience to confess all this.
In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence
From forth the noise and rumour of the field,
Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts
In peace, and part this body and my soul
With contemplation and devout desires.
Do I not have horrible death within my sight,
only just hanging on to life
which is bleeding away, like a waxwork
dissolving in the fire?
What in the world would make me now lie to you,
when I will soon be unable to lie at all?
Why should I be false, since it is true
that I must die here and go and live where there is only truth?
I say again, if Louis wins the battle,
he has promised that those eyes of yours
will never see another sunrise:
this very night, his black poisonous breath
is already curling around the burning top
of the old, feeble sun, worn out by the day,
on this evil night, you shall cease to breathe,
paying the price for what is seen as treachery
with the terrible fine of all your lives,
if Louis wins the battle with your help.
Give my greetings to a man called Hubert who's with your king:
my love for him, and also the fact that
my grandfather was an Englishman,
provokes my conscience to say all this.
In payment for that, I pray you, carry me away
from the noise and clamour of the battlefield,
where I can think what's left of my thoughts
in peace, and separate my body from my soul
with contemplation and prayer.
SALISBURY.
We do believe thee; and beshrew my soul
But I do love the favour and the form
Of this most fair occasion, by the which
We will untread the steps of damned flight,
And like a bated and retired flood,
Leaving our rankness and irregular course,
Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd,
And calmly run on in obedience
Even to our ocean, to great King John.
My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence;
For I do see the cruel pangs of death
Right in thine eye. Away, my friends! New flight,
And happy newness, that intends old right.
We believe you; and curse me
if I don't love the way
things are turning out, which means
we can undo our cursed retreat,
and like a flood which has abated
we can leave our foulness and unusual course,
bow down within the frontiers we overcame,
and run obediently and calmly on
to our ocean, our great King John.
I shall help to carry you away from here;
for I can see the cruel agony of death
right in your eyes. Let's go, my friends! A new escape;
a happy newness, taking us back to our old position!
Exeunt, leading off MELUN
England. The French camp
Enter LEWIS and his train
LEWIS.
The sun of heaven, methought, was loath to set,
But stay'd and made the western welkin blush,
When English measure backward their own ground
In faint retire. O, bravely came we off,
When with a volley of our needless shot,
After such bloody toil, we bid good night;
And
wound our tott'ring colours clearly up,
Last in the field and almost lords of it!
It seemed to me that the sun in heaven didn't want to set,
but stayed to make the western sky blush,
when the English meekly
retreated. Oh, we succeeded bravely,
when we said good night to them
after such bloodthirsty work with
a needless volley of artillery;
we rolled up our waving banners,
the last ones on the battlefield and almost the lords of it!
Enter a MESSENGER
MESSENGER.
Where is my prince, the Dauphin?
Where is my Prince, the Dauphin?
LEWIS.
Here; what news?
Here; what's the news?
MESSENGER.
The Count Melun is slain; the English lords
By his persuasion are again fall'n off,
And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,
Are cast away and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
Count Melun has been killed; the English lords
have retreated again on his advice,
and your forces, which you have been waiting for so long,
are shipwrecked and sunk on Goodwin Sands.
LEWIS.
Ah, foul shrewd news! Beshrew thy very heart!
I did not think to be so sad to-night
As this hath made me. Who was he that said
King John did fly an hour or two before
The stumbling night did part our weary pow'rs?
Such foul and damned news! Damn your very heart!
I didn't think that I would be so sad tonight
as this has made me. Who said that
King John escaped an hour or two before
the obscuring night parted our tired armies?
MESSENGER.
Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 16