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

by William Shakespeare

  Dauphin

  My most redoubted father, It is most meet we arm us 'gainst the foe; For peace itself should not so dull a kingdom, Though war nor no known quarrel were in question, But that defences, musters, preparations, Should be maintain'd, assembled, and collected, As were a war in expectation. Therefore, I say, 'tis meet we all go forth To view the sick and feeble parts of France. And let us do it with no show of fear; No, with no more than if we heard that England Were busied with a Whitsun morris-dance; For, my good liege, she is so idly king'd, Her sceptre so fantastically borne By a vain, giddy, shallow, humorous youth, That fear attends her not.

  My fearsome father, we definitely have to arm ourselves against the enemy even in times of peace. We can’t let our guard down. I think we should go visit the weakest areas of France, but show no fear in the process, as if England were just performing a dance. England, my dear king, has a poor leader. Her monarchy is so vain, shallow, silly, and young, that we needn’t fear.

  Constable

  O peace, Prince Dauphin! You are too much mistaken in this king. Question your Grace the late ambassadors With what great state he heard their embassy, How well supplied with noble counsellors, How modest in exception, and withal How terrible in constant resolution, And you shall find his vanities forespent Were but the outside of the Roman Brutus, Covering discretion with a coat of folly; As gardeners do with ordure hide those roots That shall first spring and be most delicate.

  Oh no, Prince Dauphin! I think you are mistaken about this king. Ask the ambassadors who just came back about how noble and competent his counselors are. You’ll find out he has reason to be vain, and he hides his discretion within his youth, like gardeners who cover up delicate roots with mulch.

  Dauphin

  Well, 'tis not so, my Lord High Constable; But though we think it so, it is no matter. In cases of defence 'tis best to weigh The enemy more mighty than he seems, So the proportions of defence are fill'd; Which, of a weak and niggardly projection, Doth, like a miser, spoil his coat with scanting A little cloth.

  I don’t think so, my lord Constable. However, it doesn’t matter, because we need to be prepared to fight regardless of the enemy’s strength. So, we know what we must do.

  French King

  Think we King Harry strong; And, Princes, look you strongly arm to meet him. The kindred of him hath been flesh'd upon us; And he is bred out of that bloody strain That haunted us in our familiar paths. Witness our too much memorable shame When Cressy battle fatally was struck, And all our princes captiv'd by the hand Of that black name, Edward, Black Prince of Wales; Whiles that his mountain sire, on mountain standing, Up in the air, crown'd with the golden sun, Saw his heroical seed, and smil'd to see him, Mangle the work of nature and deface The patterns that by God and by French fathers Had twenty years been made. This is a stem Of that victorious stock; and let us fear The native mightiness and fate of him.

  We should perceive Harry as a strong threat, and arm ourselves accordingly. His ancestors were a bloody line and he is made from the same cloth. Remember the embarrassment, when Edward the Black Prince of Wales captured all of our princes, while his father watched from a hilltop. History designed by God and our French fathers has been in the making the last twenty years, and here he is. Let us fear him and be ready.

  Enter a Messenger.

  Messenger

  Ambassadors from Harry King of England Do crave admittance to your Majesty.

  Ambassadors from King Harry of England wish to have word with you, your majesty.

  French King

  We'll give them present audience. Go, and bring them.

  Bring them in. We will see them now.

  Exit Messenger and certain Lords.

  You see this chase is hotly follow'd, friends.

  The chase begins, friends.

  Dauphin

  Turn head and stop pursuit; for coward dogs Most spend their mouths when what they seem to threaten Runs far before them. Good my sovereign, Take up the English short, and let them know Of what a monarchy you are the head. Self-love, my liege, is not so vile a sin As self-neglecting.

  Stop pursuing and face them. Cowardly dogs always yell louder when the prey is far off. My good king, show the English what this monarch is made of. Self-love, my liege, is not as bad as self-neglect.

  Re-enter Lords, with Exeter and train.

  French King

  From our brother of England?

  Are you from our brother England?

  Exeter

  From him; and thus he greets your Majesty: He wills you, in the name of God Almighty, That you divest yourself, and lay apart The borrowed glories that by gift of heaven, By law of nature and of nations, longs To him and to his heirs; namely, the crown And all wide-stretched honours that pertain By custom and the ordinance of times Unto the crown of France. That you may know 'Tis no sinister nor no awkward claim Pick'd from the worm-holes of long-vanish'd days, Nor from the dust of old oblivion rak'd, He sends you this most memorable line, In every branch truly demonstrative; Willing you overlook this pedigree; And when you find him evenly deriv'd

  From his most fam'd of famous ancestors, Edward the Third, he bids you then resign Your crown and kingdom, indirectly held From him, the native and true challenger.

  Yes, and he sends his greetings. He wishes you to relinquish the crown and all the properties and customs associated with the realm of France that is rightly his. He wants you to know this is not a claim of vengeance or vanity. He wants you to know he is the rightful heir of Edward the Third, and based on this information, you should resign your crown and kingdom.

  French King

  Or else what follows?

  And, if I don’t?

  Exeter

  Bloody constraint; for if you hide the crown Even in your hearts, there will he rake for it. Therefore in fierce tempest is he coming, In thunder and in earthquake, like a Jove, That, if requiring fail, he will compel; And bids you, in the bowels of the Lord, Deliver up the crown, and to take mercy On the poor souls for whom this hungry war Opens his vasty jaws; and on your head Turning the widows' tears, the orphans' cries, The dead men's blood, the pining maidens' groans, For husbands, fathers, and betrothed lovers, That shall be swallowed in this controversy. This is his claim, his threat'ning, and my message; Unless the Dauphin be in presence here, To whom expressly I bring greeting too.

  If you don’t, he will declare war. He is coming with his army, like a storm or a god, and he wants you to give up the crown and spare the men who will certainly die in the war. This is his message, the same one he gave to Dauphin.

  French King

  For us, we will consider of this further. To-morrow shall you bear our full intent Back to our brother of England.

  We must consider this. Tomorrow, we will let you know what we are going to do.

  Dauphin

  For the Dauphin, I stand here for him. What to him from England?

  What does the king say about me?

  Exeter

  Scorn and defiance. Slight regard, contempt, And anything that may not misbecome The mighty sender, doth he prize you at. Thus says my king: an if your father's Highness Do not, in grant of all demands at large, Sweeten the bitter mock you sent his Majesty, He'll call you to so hot an answer of it That caves and womby vaultages of France Shall chide your trespass and return your mock In second accent of his ordinance.

  He has nothing to say but scorn and defiance. After the gift you brought, he will call you to answer for your father’s decision, so that all of France will turn its back on you and laugh.

  Dauphin

  Say, if my father render fair return, It is against my will; for I desire Nothing but odds with England. To that end, As matching to his youth and vanity, I did present him with the Paris balls.

  If my father accepts the king’s demands, know it is against my will. I want nothing to do with England. I gave him a gift matching his youth and vanity.

  Exeter

  He'll make your Pari
s Louvre shake for it, Were it the mistress-court of mighty Europe; And, be assur'd, you'll find a difference, As we his subjects have in wonder found, Between the promise of his greener days And these he masters now. Now he weighs time Even to the utmost grain. That you shall read In your own losses, if he stay in France.

  He’ll make the Parisian Louvre shake for it, too. You will find a great difference from the man he used to be and who he is now. You will regret it if he stays in France.

  French King

  To-morrow shall you know our mind at full.

  You will hear my decision tomorrow.

  Exeter

  Dispatch us with all speed, lest that our king Come here himself to question our delay; For he is footed in this land already.

  Let us know quickly or else the king will come here to find out what’s keeping us so long.

  FRENCH KING

  You shall be soon dispatch'd with fair conditions. A night is but small breath and little pause To answer matters of this consequence.

  Flourish. Exit.

  Enter Chorus

  Chorus

  Thus with imagin'd wing our swift scene flies, In motion of no less celerity Than that of thought. Suppose that you have seen The well-appointed king at [Hampton] pier Embark his royalty, and his brave fleet With silken streamers the young Phoebus fanning. Play with your fancies; and in them behold Upon the hempen tackle ship-boys climbing; Hear the shrill whistle which doth order give To sounds confus'd; behold the threaden sails, Borne with the invisible and creeping wind, Draw the huge bottoms through the furrow'd sea, Breasting the lofty surge. O, do but think You stand upon the rivage and behold A city on the inconstant billows dancing; For so appears this fleet majestical, Holding due course to Harfleur. Follow, follow! Grapple your minds to sternage of this navy, And leave your England, as dead midnight still, Guarded with grandsires, babies, and old women, Either past or not arriv'd to pith and puissance. For who is he, whose chin is but enrich'd With one appearing hair, that will not follow These cull'd and choice-drawn cavaliers to France? Work, work your thoughts, and therein see a siege; Behold the ordnance on their carriages, With fatal mouths gaping on girded Harfleur. Suppose the ambassador from the French comes back, Tells Harry that the King doth offer him Katharine his daughter, and with her, to dowry, Some petty and unprofitable dukedoms. The offer likes not; and the nimble gunner With linstock now the devilish cannon touches,

  [Alarum, and chambers go off.]

  And down goes all before them. Still be kind, And eke out our performance with your mind.

  With your imagination see the king depart with his brave fleet from Hampton pier. Look at the men working on the ship and hear the whistle of orders being given as the sails open up to the creeping wind, pulling the huge ship through the sea. Although this looks like a city dancing in the wind, it is a navy leaving England for France. Imagine the ambassador returns from France with the offer of Katherine, the king’s daughter, as a dowry for the dukedoms. Since, the King does not like the offer, he prepares for battle. Imagine and watch our performance.

  Exit.

  Alarum. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Bedford, Gloucester, and Soldiers with scaling ladders.

  King

  Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more, Or close the wall up with our English dead. In peace there's nothing so becomes a man As modest stillness and humility; But when the blast of war blows in our ears, Then imitate the action of the tiger; Stiffen the sinews, summon up the blood, Disguise fair nature with hard-favour'd rage; Then lend the eye a terrible aspect; Let it pry through the portage of the head Like the brass cannon; let the brow o'erwhelm it As fearfully as does a galled rock O'erhang and jutty his confounded base, Swill'd with the wild and wasteful ocean. Now set the teeth and stretch the nostril wide, Hold hard the breath, and bend up every spirit To his full height. On, on, you noblest English, Whose blood is fet from fathers of war-proof! Fathers that, like so many Alexanders, Have in these parts from morn till even fought, And sheath'd their swords for lack of argument. Dishonour not your mothers; now attest That those whom you call'd fathers did beget you. Be copy now to men of grosser blood, And teach them how to war. And you, good yeomen, Whose limbs were made in England, show us here The mettle of your pasture; let us swear That you are worth your breeding, which I doubt not; For there is none of you so mean and base, That hath not noble lustre in your eyes. I see you stand like greyhounds in the slips, Straining upon the start. The game's afoot! Follow your spirit, and upon this charge Cry, "God for Harry! England and Saint George!"

  Let’s try one more time, dear friends, to scale the wall or else die trying. In peace, nothing is so becoming a man as stillness and humility, but in times of war, he should imitate the actions of tiger and rage upon the enemy. Open up your senses and fight like your warring English ancestors. Show us what you are made of and honor your mothers and fathers. Good seamen, show your noble nature as we set forth. The time is now. Follow your heart and on command cry, “God for Harry, England, and Saint George!”

  Exit. Alarum, and chambers go off.

  Enter Nym, Bardolph, Pistol, and Boy.

  Bardolph

  On, on, on, on, on! To the breach, to the breach!

  On, on, on! To the wall! To the wall!

  Nym

  Pray thee, corporal, stay. The knocks are too hot; and, for mine own part, I have not a case of lives. The humour of it is too hot; that is the very plain-song of it.

  I beg you, corporal, not to go. It’s too dangerous. I, myself, don’t have enough lives to spare, and that’s that.

  Pistol

  The plain-song is most just, for humours do abound. "Knocks go and come; God's vassals drop and die;

  And sword and shield, In bloody field, Doth win immortal fame."

  That’s true, but danger comes and goes. Men live and die, but with their sword and shield in battle, they win immortal fame.

  Boy

  Would I were in an alehouse in London! I would give all my fame for a pot of ale and safety.

  I wish I was in an alehouse in London. I would trade all of the fame for a beer and safety.

  Pistol

  And I. "If wishes would prevail with me, My purpose should not fail with me,

  But thither would I hie."

  And if I had my wishes, I would not fail, but live.

  Boy

  "As duly, but not as truly,

  As bird doth sing on bough."

  True, but not possible.

  Enter Fluellen.

  Fluellen

  Up to the breach, you dogs! Avaunt, you cullions!

  Up to the wall, you dogs! Forward, you scumbags!

  Driving them forward.

  Pistol

  Be merciful, great Duke, to men of mould. Abate thy rage, abate thy manly rage, Abate thy rage, great Duke! Good bawcock, bate thy rage; use lenity, sweet chuck!

  Be merciful, great duke, to old men. Calm down. Go easy, dear man.

  Nym

  These be good humours! Your honour wins bad humours.

  This is nonsense. Honor is unhealthy, if you ask me.

  Exit all but Boy.

  Boy

  As young as I am, I have observ'd these three swashers. I am boy to them all three; but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-liver'd and red-fac'd; by the means whereof 'a faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the means whereof 'a breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath heard that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest 'a should be thought a coward. But his few bad words are match'd with as few good deeds; for 'a never broke any man's head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal anything, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three half-pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais the
y stole a fire-shovel. I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their handkerchers; which makes much against my manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some better service. Their villainy goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up.

  As young as I am, I have watched these three fools. I am their servant, their man, but if it was the other way around, none could be considered a man. Bardolph is a lily-livered, red-faced coward. Pistol is all talk, and Nym, who thinks quiet men are best and won’t even say his prayers for fear someone would think he were a coward, has never hurt anyone but himself when he busted his drunken head against a post. They are thieves and liars. Bardolph stole a lute case, carried it for miles and sold it for three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in thievery. In Calais, they stole a fire shovel, which I knew wasn’t theirs. They want me to get into the business, so I must leave them and find someone better to serve. Their villainous ways makes me sick.