The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 108
Exit.
Enter the King of France, the Dauphin, the duke of Bourbon, the Constable of France, and Others.
French King
'Tis certain he hath pass'd the river Somme.
It is true. He has passed the river Somme.
Constable
And if he be not fought withal, my lord, Let us not live in France; let us quit all And give our vineyards to a barbarous people.
If we don’t fight back, let’s not live in France and give all of our land to a barbarous people.
Dauphin
O Dieu vivant! shall a few sprays of us, The emptying of our fathers' luxury, Our scions put in wild and savage stock, Spirt up so suddenly into the clouds, And overlook their grafters?
My God! Are we forgetting what our fathers did?
Bourbon
Normans, but bastard Normans, Norman bastards! Mort de ma vie! if they march along Unfought withal, but I will sell my dukedom, To buy a slobbery and a dirty farm In that nook-shotten isle of Albion.
Normans! Norman bastards! If we don’t fight back, I will sell my land for a filthy farm on the isle of Albion.
Constable
Dieu de batailles! where have they this mettle? Is not their climate foggy, raw, and dull, On whom, as in despite, the sun looks pale, Killing their fruit with frowns? Can sodden water, A drench for sur-rein'd jades, their barley-broth, Decoct their cold blood to such valiant heat? And shall our quick blood, spirited with wine, Seem frosty? O, for honour of our land, Let us not hang like roping icicles Upon our houses' thatch, whiles a more frosty people Sweat drops of gallant youth in our rich fields! Poor we may call them in their native lords.
God of battles! Where did they get their power? Is our blood so frosty, while theirs is running hot? Let’s not hang around like icicles, while these cold brutes drop sweat upon our fields!
Dauphin
By faith and honour, Our madams mock at us, and plainly say Our mettle is bred out, and they will give Their bodies to the lust of English youth To new-store France with bastard warriors.
I swear our women make fun of us and say our courage is all gone, and they will give themselves to the English youth to breed new French warriors.
Bourbon
They bid us to the English dancing-schools, And teach lavoltas high, and swift corantos; Saying our grace is only in our heels, And that we are most lofty runaways.
They say the English are taking us to school and we are running away from their approach.
French King
Where is Montjoy the herald? Speed him hence. Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. Up, princes! and, with spirit of honour edged More sharper than your swords, hie to the field! Charles Delabreth, High Constable of France; You Dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and of Berri, Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; Jacques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg, Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois; High dukes, great princes, barons, lords, and knights, For your great seats now quit you of great shames. Bar Harry England, that sweeps through our land With pennons painted in the blood of Harfleur. Rush on his host, as doth the melted snow Upon the valleys, whose low vassal seat The Alps doth spit and void his rheum upon. Go down upon him, you have power enough, And in a captive chariot into Rouen Bring him our prisoner.
Where is Montjoy, the herald? Bring him here quickly. Let him greet England with our sharp defiance. Get up, princes and go to the field. Charles Delabreth, high constable of France; you dukes of Orleans, Bourbon, and Berri, Alencon, Brabant, Bar, and Burgundy; Jaques Chatillon, Rambures, Vaudemont, Beaumont, Grandpre, Roussi, and Fauconberg; Foix, Lestrale, Bouciqualt, and Charolois show your bravery and fight Harry of England who sweeps through our land stained with the blood of Harfleur. Rush upon him like the snowy Alps and bring him back as our prisoner.
Constable
This becomes the great. Sorry am I his numbers are so few, His soldiers sick and famish'd in their march; For I am sure, when he shall see our army, He'll drop his heart into the sink of fear And for achievement offer us his ransom.
We will be great in number and he will be so few with his soldiers suffering with sickness and starvation. I am sure when he sees our army his heart will be filled with fear and he will give up.
French King
Therefore, Lord Constable, haste on Montjoy,
And let him say to England that we send To know what willing ransom he will give. Prince Dauphin, you shall stay with us in Rouen.
Therefore, Lord Constable, hurry up Montjoy. Let him ask England what they will give us for the King’s ransom. Prince Dauphin, you will stay with us here in Rouen.
Dauphin
Not so, I do beseech your Majesty.
No, please, your majesty.
French King
Be patient, for you shall remain with us. Now forth, Lord Constable and princes all, And quickly bring us word of England's fall.
Be patient. You will stay with us. Now, Lord Constable and princes, quickly bring us the news of England’s downfall.
Exit.
Enter Gower and Fluellen, meeting.
Gower
How now, Captain Fluellen! come you from the bridge?
How is it going, Captain Fluellen? Are you coming from the bridge?
Fluellen
I assure you, there is very excellent services committed at the bridge.
Yes, and I can assure you they are well committed at the bridge.
Gower
Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
Is the Duke of Exeter safe?
Fluellen
The Duke of Exeter is as magnanimous as Agamemnon; and a man that I love and honour with my soul, and my heart, and my duty, and my live, and my living, and my uttermost power. He is not--God be praised and blessed!--any hurt in the world; but keeps the bridge most valiantly, with excellent discipline. There is an aunchient lieutenant there at the pridge, I think in my very conscience he is as valiant a man as Mark Antony; and he is a man of no estimation in the world, but I did see him do as gallant service.
The Duke of Exeter is well and unhurt. He keeps the bridge courageously and with excellent discipline. There is an old lieutenant at the bridge who is as brave as Mark Antony. He is a nobody, but he is performing a great service.
Gower
What do you call him?
What is his name?
Fluellen
He is call'd Aunchient Pistol.
He is called Pistol.
Gower
I know him not.
I don’t know him.
Enter Pistol.
Fluellen
Here is the man.
Here he is.
Pistol
Captain, I thee beseech to do me favours. The Duke of Exeter doth love thee well.
Captain, I need to ask you for a favor. The Duke of Exeter loves you.
Fluellen
Ay, I praise God; and I have merited some love at his hands.
Praise God, I have earned his love.
Pistol
Bardolph, a soldier, firm and sound of heart, And of buxom valour, hath by cruel fate And giddy Fortune's furious fickle wheel, That goddess blind, That stands upon the rolling restless stone--
Bardolph, a good and valiant soldier, has encountered the cruel fate of blind Fortune’s fickle wheel…
Fluellen
By your patience, Aunchient Pistol. Fortune is painted blind, with a muffler afore his eyes, to signify to you that Fortune is blind; and she is painted also with a wheel, to signify to you, which is the moral of it, that she is turning, and inconstant, and mutability, and variation; and her foot, look you, is fixed upon a spherical stone, which rolls, and rolls, and rolls. In good truth, the poet makes a most excellent description of it. Fortune is an excellent moral.
Pistol, Fortune is blind and holds a wheel of chance to show you the inconstancy of fate. She stands upon a rolling stone to show you the variability of luck. The poet who describes Fortune does
an excellent job at explaining the moral.
Pistol
Fortune is Bardolph's foe, and frowns on him; For he hath stolen a pax, and hanged must 'a be,-- A damned death! Let gallows gape for dog; let man go free, And let not hemp his windpipe suffocate. But Exeter hath given the doom of death For pax of little price. Therefore, go speak; the Duke will hear thy voice; And let not Bardolph's vital thread be cut With edge of penny cord and vile reproach.
Speak, captain, for his life, and I will thee requite.
Fortune is Bardolph’s foe and frowns on him. He stole a picture from church and must be hanged. A terrible death! A death for dogs. Let him go free and not suffocate on the end of a rope. Please, go talk to the duke. He will listen to you. Don’t let Bardolph’s life be ended this way. I will pay you back, if you will talk to him.
Fluellen
Aunchient Pistol, I do partly understand your meaning.
Lieutenant Pistol, I partly understand what you want.
Pistol
Why then, rejoice therefore.
Good.
Fluellen
Certainly, aunchient, it is not a thing to rejoice at; for if, look you, he were my brother, I would desire the Duke to use his good pleasure, and put him to execution; for discipline ought to be used.
Lieutenant, it’s not good. Look, if he were my brother, I would want the duke to use his discretion and discipline him with execution, if necessary.
Pistol
Die and be damn'd! and figo for thy friendship!
Well, then die and go to hell! Forget our friendship!
Fluellen
It is well.
Oh, it’s just as well.
Pistol
The fig of Spain.
Forget you!
Exit.
Fluellen
Very good.
Very good.
Gower
Why, this is an arrant counterfeit rascal. I remember him now; a bawd, a cutpurse.
Why, I remember that fellow. He is a fake rascal and a thief.
Fluellen
I'll assure you, 'a uttered as prave words at the pridge as you shall see in a summer's day. But it is very well; what he has spoke to me, that is well, I warrant you, when time is serve.
You should have heard him at the bridge, speaking as bravely as anyone. But it’s all well. I promise you when the time is right.
Gower
Why, 't is a gull, a fool, a rogue, that now and then goes to the wars, to grace himself at his return into London under the form of a soldier. And such fellows are perfect in the great commanders' names; and they will learn you by rote where services were done; at such and such a sconce, at such a breach, at such a convoy; who came off bravely, who was shot, who disgrac'd, what terms the enemy stood on; and this they con perfectly in the phrase of war, which they trick up with new-tuned oaths: and what a beard of the general's cut and a horrid suit of the camp will do among foaming bottles and ale-wash'd wits, is wonderful to be thought on. But you must learn to know such slanders of the age, or else you may be marvellously mistook.
It is a fool, a rogue, who goes to wars now and then just to call himself a soldier. They can remember great commanders’ names and talk about this breach or convoy or who was brave, or disgraced, or shot. They turn their experience into a means to trick others. You must beware of soldiers like these or be taken by them.
Fluellen
I tell you what, Captain Gower; I do perceive he is not the man that he would gladly make show to the world he is. If I find a hole in his coat, I will tell him my mind. [Drum heard.] Hark you, the King is coming, and I must speak with him from the pridge.
I know, Captain Gower, he is not the man he’d like for people to think he is. And, given a chance, I will tell him what I think.
Drum heard.
Listen, the king is coming and I must speak with him from the bridge.
Drum and colors. Enter King Henry, Gloucester, and Soldiers.
God bless your Majesty!
God bless your majesty!
King
How now, Fluellen! cam'st thou from the bridge?
How are you, Fluellen? Are you coming from the bridge?
Fluellen
Ay, so please your Majesty. The Duke of Exeter has very gallantly maintain'd the pridge. The French is gone off, look you; and there is gallant and most prave passages. Marry, th' athversary was have possession of the pridge; but he is enforced to retire, and the Duke of Exeter is master of the pridge. I can tell your Majesty, the Duke is a prave man.
Yes, your majesty. The Duke of Exeter has maintained the bridge. The French are gone. The Duke is a master and he ran them off. He is a brave man.
King
What men have you lost, Fluellen?
What men have you lost, Fluellen?
Fluellen
The perdition of the athversary hath been very great, reasonable great. Marry, for my part, I think the Duke hath lost never a man, but one that is like to be executed for robbing a church, one Bardolph, if your Majesty know the man. His face is all bubukles, and whelks, and knobs, and flames o' fire; and his lips blows at his nose, and it is like a coal of fire, sometimes plue and sometimes red; but his nose is executed, and his fire's out.
The enemy lost many, but I don’t think the duke lost a man, but one, who will be executed for robbing a church. His name is Bardolph, if you know him. His face is red and filled with whelps. He blows his nose making it red, but I guess he won’t be blowing it anymore.
King
We would have all such offenders so cut off; and we give express charge, that in our marches through the country, there be nothing compell'd from the villages, nothing taken but paid for, none of the French upbraided or abused in disdainful language; for when lenity and cruelty play for a kingdom, the gentler gamester is the soonest winner.
We want all such offenders cut off. No one is to take anything while we march, unless it is paid for. None of the French are to be abused or mistreated, because the gentlest player for a kingdom always wins.
A trumpet sounds. Montjoy enters.
Montjoy
You know me by my habit.
You can tell who I am.
King
Well then I know thee. What shall I know of thee?
Well, then I know you. What do you have to say?
Montjoy
My master's mind.
I’m here to speak my master’s mind.
King
Unfold it.
Go ahead.
Montjoy
Thus says my King: Say thou to Harry of England: Though we seem'd dead, we did but sleep; advantage is a better soldier than rashness. Tell him we could have rebuk'd him at Harfleur, but that we thought not good to bruise an injury till it were full ripe. Now we speak upon our cue, and our voice is imperial. England shall repent his folly, see his weakness, and admire our sufferance. Bid him therefore consider of his ransom; which must proportion the losses we have borne, the subjects we have lost, the disgrace we have digested; which in weight to re-answer, his pettishness would bow under. For our losses, his exchequer is too poor; for the effusion of our blood, the muster of his kingdom too faint a number; and for our disgrace, his own person, kneeling at our feet, but a weak and worthless satisfaction. To this add defiance; and tell him, for conclusion, he hath betrayed his followers, whose condemnation is pronounc'd. So far my King and master; so much my office.
My king says to tell you though we seem dead, we were just asleep. We could have rebuked you at Harfleur, but we were waiting until the perfect time. England must turn back, admit his weakness, and we will be merciful. Therefore, think about what you are asking and the losses we have already taken in addition to the disgrace we have digested, which is far weightier than yours. You can do nothing to make amends for your actions. You have betrayed your men who will be condemned.
King
What is thy name? I know thy quality.
What is your name? You seem fami
liar.
Montjoy
Montjoy.
Montjoy
King
Thou dost thy office fairly. Turn thee back, And tell thy King I do not seek him now, But could be willing to march on to Calais
Without impeachment; for, to say the sooth, Though 'tis no wisdom to confess so much Unto an enemy of craft and vantage, My people are with sickness much enfeebled, My numbers lessen'd, and those few I have Almost no better than so many French; Who when they were in health, I tell thee, herald, I thought upon one pair of English legs Did march three Frenchmen. Yet, forgive me, God, That I do brag thus! This your air of France Hath blown that vice in me. I must repent. Go therefore, tell thy master here I am; My ransom is this frail and worthless trunk, My army but a weak and sickly guard; Yet, God before, tell him we will come on, Though France himself and such another neighbour Stand in our way. There's for thy labour, Montjoy. Go, bid thy master well advise himself. If we may pass, we will; if we be hind'red, We shall your tawny ground with your red blood Discolour; and so, Montjoy, fare you well. The sum of all our answer is but this: We would not seek a battle, as we are; Nor, as we are, we say we will not shun it. So tell your master.