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

Page 117

by William Shakespeare


  May God, the best marriage maker, combine your hearts as one and your realms! As man and wife are one in love, may also your kingdoms, so they may never have discord again. May English and French receive each other in good will. Amen!

  All

  Amen!

  Amen!

  King

  Prepare we for our marriage; on which day, My Lord of Burgundy, we'll take your oath, And all the peers', for surety of our leagues, Then shall I swear to Kate, and you to me; And may our oaths well kept and prosperous be!

  Let’s prepare for our wedding. On that day, I’ll take your oath of loyalty, my Lord Burgundy and all my peers. I will swear to Kate and you to me, and may they uphold and prosper.

  Exit.

  Epilogue

  Enter Chorus.

  Chorus

  Thus far, with rough and all-unable pen, Our bending author hath pursu'd the story, In little room confining mighty men, Mangling by starts the full course of their glory. Small time, but in that small most greatly lived This star of England. Fortune made his sword, By which the world's best garden he achieved, And of it left his son imperial lord. Henry the Sixth, in infant bands crown'd King Of France and England, did this king succeed; Whose state so many had the managing, That they lost France and made his England bleed: Which oft our stage hath shown; and, for their sake, In your fair minds let this acceptance take.

  Thus, we end our attempt at telling this story of mighty men in such a little room. Unfortunately, we could not bring them their due glory. In the short time in which he lived, our hero was a great warrior and created the world’s greatest garden, France, leaving his son, Henry the Sixth, as ruler. While many had their hands in his affairs, France was lost and England at civil war, which has been portrayed on this stage before. So, please accept this play with your fair minds.

  William Shakespeare’s

  In Plain and Simple English

  KING HENRY the Sixth

  DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, uncle to the King, and Protector

  DUKE OF BEDFORD, uncle to the King, and Regent of France

  THOMAS BEAUFORT, Duke of Exeter, great-uncle to the King

  HENRY BEAUFORT, great-uncle to the King, Bishop of Winchester,

  and afterwards Cardinal

  JOHN BEAUFORT, Earl, afterwards Duke, of Somerset

  RICHARD PLANTAGENET, son of Richard, late Earl of Cambridge,

  afterwards Duke of York

  EARL OF WARWICK

  EARL OF SALISBURY

  EARL OF SUFFOLK

  LORD TALBOT, afterwards Earl of Shrewbury

  JOHN TALBOT, his son

  EDMUND MORTIMER, Earl of March

  SIR JOHN FASTOLFE

  SIR WILLIAM LUCY

  SIR WILLIAM GLANSDALE

  SIR THOMAS GARGRAVE

  Mayor of London

  WOODVILE, Lieutenant of the Tower

  VERNON, of the White-Rose or York faction

  BASSET, of the Red-Rose or Lancaster faction

  A Lawyer, Mortimer's Keepers

  CHARLES, Dauphin, and afterwards King, of France

  REIGNIER, Duke of Anjou, and titular King of Naples

  DUKE OF BURGUNDY

  DUKE OF ALENCON

  BASTARD OF ORLEANS

  Governor of Paris

  Master-Gunner of Orleans and his Son

  General of the French forces in Bordeaux

  A French Sergeant A Porter

  An old Shepherd, father to Joan la Pucelle

  MARGARET, daughter to Reignier, afterwards married to

  King Henry

  COUNTESS OF AUVERGNE

  JOAN LA PUCELLE, Commonly called Joan of Arc

  Lords, Warders of the Tower, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers,

  Messengers, and Attendants

  Fiends appearing to La Pucelle

  SCENE: Partly in England, and partly in France

  Westminster Abbey.

  Dead March. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended

  on

  by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloucester,

  Protector; the Duke of Exeter, the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of

  Winchester, Heralds, &c.

  BEDFORD.

  Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!

  Comets, importing change of times and states,

  Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,

  And with them scourge the bad revolting stars

  That have consented unto Henry's death!

  King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!

  England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.

  Hang the skies with black, day give way to night!

  Comets, showing the change of times and nations,

  stream your crystal tails across the sky,

  and with them whip the horrid rebellious stars

  which agreed to let Henry die!

  King Henry the Fifth, too great for a long life!

  England never lost such a valuable king.

  GLOUCESTER.

  England ne'er had a king until his time.

  Virtue he had, deserving to command:

  His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:

  His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;

  His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,

  More dazzled and drove back his enemies

  Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.

  What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:

  He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.

  England never had a true king until him.

  He had goodness, he deserved to lead:

  when he waved his sword it blinded men with its reflection:

  his arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;

  his sparkling eyes, full of angry fire,

  drove back and dazzled his enemies

  more than the midday sun shining straight in their faces.

  What can I say? There are no words to express his great deeds:

  he never moved without conquering.

  EXETER.

  We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?

  Henry is dead and never shall revive:

  Upon a wooden coffin we attend,

  And death's dishonourable victory

  We with our stately presence glorify,

  Like captives bound to a triumphant car.

  What! shall we curse the planets of mishap

  That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?

  Or shall we think the subtle-witted French

  Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him

  By magic verses have contriv'd his end?

  We mourn by wearing black: why do we not mourn by shedding blood?

  Henry is dead and will never come back:

  we are waiting on a wooden coffin,

  and death's dishonourable victory

  is being glorified by our stately presence,

  like prisoners tied to a chariot in a triumph.

  What! Are we going to think that unlucky stars

  overthrew the glory of our king?

  Or do we believe that the cunning French

  magicians and sorcerers, through fear of him,

  cast magic spells to bring about his death?

  WINCHESTER.

  He was a king bless'd of the King of kings;

  Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day

  So dreadful will not be as was his sight.

  The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:

  The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.

  He was a king blessed by Jesus;

  the French won't find Judgement Day

  as terrible as facing him.

  He fought his battles for God:

  the prayers of the church ensured his success.

  GLOUCESTER.

  The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,

  His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:

  None do you like but
an effeminate prince,

  Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.

  The church! Where are they? If the churchmen hadn't prayed,

  he would not have died so soon:

  all you want is a girlish prince,

  whom you can dominate like a schoolboy.

  WINCHESTER.

  Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art Protector,

  And lookest to command the Prince and realm.

  Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,

  More than God or religious churchmen may.

  Gloucester, whatever we want, you are Regent,

  and you have command over the Prince and the country.

  Your wife is arrogant; she's the one who dominates you,

  more than God or religious churchmen can.

  GLOUCESTER.

  Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh,

  And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,

  Except it be to pray against thy foes.

  Do not speak of religion, for you love worldly things,

  and you never go to church at any time of year,

  except to say prayers against your enemies.

  BEDFORD.

  Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:

  Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:

  Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms;

  Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.

  Posterity, await for wretched years,

  When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,

  Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,

  And none but women left to wail the dead.

  Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:

  Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,

  Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!

  A far more glorious star thy soul will make

  Than Julius Caesar or bright--

  Stop these arguments and be peaceful:

  let's go to the altar: heralds, attend us:

  instead of gold, will make an offering of our weapons,

  as we have no use for them now, now that Henry is dead.

  We can expect the future to be wretched,

  and babies shall drink the tears of their mothers,

  the island shall feed on salt tears alone,

  and there will be none but women left to mourn the dead.

  Henry the Fifth, I summon up your ghost:

  make this country prosperous, keep it from civil war,

  fight the influence of the unlucky planets!

  Your soul will make far more glorious start

  than Julius Caesar, or bright–

  [Enter a Messenger.]

  MESSENGER.

  My honourable lords, health to you all!

  Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,

  Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:

  Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,

  Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.

  My honourable lords, good health!

  I bring you sad news from France,

  of loss, slaughter and frustration:

  Guienne, Champagne, Reims, Orleans,

  Paris, Guysors, Poitiers, they have all been lost.

  BEDFORD.

  What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?

  Speak softly; or the loss of those great towns

  Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.

  What are you saying, man, in front of the body of dead Henry?

  Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns

  will make him burst out of his coffin and rise from the dead.

  GLOUCESTER.

  Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?

  If Henry were recall'd to life again,

  These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.

  Is Paris lost? Has Rouen been surrendered?

  If Henry were called back to life,

  this news would make him give up the ghost again.

  EXETER.

  How were they lost? What treachery was us'd?

  How were they lost? What treachery was there?

  MESSENGER.

  No treachery; but want of men and money.

  Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,

  That here you maintain several factions,

  And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,

  You are disputing of your generals:

  One would have lingering wars with little cost;

  Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;

  A third thinks, without expense at all,

  By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.

  Awake, awake, English nobility!

  Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot:

  Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;

  Of England's coat one half is cut away.

  There was no treachery, there was a lack of men and money.

  The soldiers are saying that

  there are several different parties here at court,

  and when the battles should be swiftly fought,

  you are arguing over details:

  one wants long wars with little expense;

  another wants to act swiftly, but doesn't have the means;

  a third thinks that peace can be got without

  any expense, just through using cunning fair words.

  Wake up, English noblemen!

  Don't let laziness spoil your newly won honours:

  the fleur-de-lis have been cropped from your coat of arms;

  you have lost half of it.

  EXETER.

  Were our tears wanting to this funeral,

  These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.

  If this funeral was not making us cry,

  this news would start us.

  BEDFORD.

  Me they concern; Regent I am of France.

  Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.

  Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!

  Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,

  To weep their intermissive miseries.

  This is my business; I am Regent of France.

  Bring me my chainmail. I shall fight for France.

  Enough of these disgraceful mourning clothes!

  I'll give the French wounds instead of eyes,

  through which they will cry for their regular miseries.

  [Enter to them another Messenger.]

  MESSENGER.

  Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.

  France is revolted from the English quite,

  Except some petty towns of no import:

  The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;

  The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;

  Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;

  The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.

  Lords, read these letters full of bad news.

  France has completely revolted against England,

  except for some little towns of no importance:

  the Dauphin Charles has been crowned King at Rheims;

  the Bastard of Orleans has joined with him;

  Reignier, Duke of Anjou, is on his side;

  the Duke of Alencon is hastening to join him.

  EXETER.

  The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!

  O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?

  The Dauphin crowned as King! Everyone rushes to him!

  Oh, how shall we escape the shame of this?

  GLOUCESTER.

  We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.

  Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.

  We will not flee, except towards our enemies' throats.

  Bedford, if you won't agree, I'll do the fighting.

  BEDFORD.

  Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?

  An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,

  Wherewi
th already France is overrun.

  Gloucester, why do you doubt my willingness?

  I have already planned how to raise an army,

  which in my mind has already conquered France.

  [Enter another Messenger.]

  MESSENGER.

  My gracious lords, to add to your laments,

  Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,

  I must inform you of a dismal fight

  Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.

  My gracious lords, to add to your tears,

  with which you now soak King Henry's hearse,

  I must tell you about a terrible fight

  between the brave Lord Talbot and the French.

  WINCHESTER.

  What! wherein Talbot overcame? is't so?

  What! Which Talbot won? Is that it?

  MESSENGER.

  O, no; wherein Lord Talbot was o'erthrown:

  The circumstance I'll tell you more at large.

  The tenth of August last this dreadful lord,

  Retiring from the siege of Orleans,

  Having full scarce six thousand in his troop,

  By three and twenty thousand of the French

  Was round encompassed and set upon.

  No leisure had he to enrank his men;

  He wanted pikes to set before his archers;

  Instead whereof sharp stakes pluck'd out of hedges

  They pitched in the ground confusedly,

  To keep the horsemen off from breaking in.

  More than three hours the fight continued;

  Where valiant Talbot above human thought

  Enacted wonders with his sword and lance:

  Hundreds he sent to hell, and none durst stand him;

 

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