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

by William Shakespeare

  Keep off aloof with worthless emulation.

  Let not your private discord keep away

  The levied succors that should lend him aid,

  While he, renowned noble gentleman,

  Yield up his life unto a world of odds.

  Orleans the Bastard, Charles, Burgundy,

  Alencon, Reignier, compass him about,

  And Talbot perisheth by your default.

  Where, my lord? From the betrayed Lord Talbot;

  who, surrounded by bold enemies,

  is crying out for noble York and Somerset

  to drive the deadly assault back from his weak forces;

  and while the honourable captain is there

  dripping bloody sweat from his exhausted limbs,

  and, clinging to his last hope, looks for rescue,

  you, his false hopes, the guardians of England's honour,

  stay away and pursue your worthless struggles.

  Don't let your private disagreement keep back

  the forces that you should be sending to help him,

  while he, that great noble gentleman,

  gives up his life against overwhelming odds.

  Orleans the bastard, Charles, Burgundy,

  Alencon, Reignier, all surround him,

  and Talbot will die and it will be your fault.

  SOMERSET.

  York set him on; York should have sent him aid.

  York encouraged him; York should have sent him help.

  LUCY.

  And York as fast upon your grace exclaims;

  Swearing that you withhold his levied host,

  Collected for this expedition.

  And York complains just as passionately about your grace;

  he swears that you have held back his army,

  which was raised for this expedition.

  SOMERSET.

  York lies; he might have sent and had the horse:

  I owe him little duty, and less love;

  And take foul scorn to fawn on him by sending.

  York is lying; he could have asked for the cavalry and he would have had them:

  I don't owe him any duty, and less love;

  I wasn't going to crawl to him by sending them unasked.

  LUCY.

  The fraud of England, not the force of France,

  Hath now entrapp'd the noble-minded Talbot:

  Never to England shall he bear his life;

  But dies, betray'd to fortune by your strife.

  It's the fraud of England, not the force of France,

  that has trapped the noble minded Talbot:

  he shall never come back to England alive;

  he dies, abandoned to his fate by your arguments.

  SOMERSET.

  Come, go; I will dispatch the horsemen straight:

  Within six hours they will be at his aid.

  Come, let's go; I will send cavalry at once:

  they shall be there to help him within six hours.

  LUCY.

  Too late comes rescue; he is ta'en or slain;

  For fly he could not, if he would have fled;

  And fly would Talbot never, though he might.

  The rescue comes too late; he will be captured or killed;

  for he couldn't escape, even if he wanted to;

  and Talbot would never run, even if he had the chance.

  SOMERSET.

  If he be dead, brave Talbot, then adieu!

  If he is dead, then farewell, brave Talbot!

  LUCY.

  His fame lives in the world, his shame in you.

  His fame lives on in the world, the shame is all yours.

  [Exeunt.]

  [Enter Talbot and John his son.]

  TALBOT.

  O young John Talbot! I did send for thee

  To tutor thee in stratagems of war,

  That Talbot's name might be in thee revived

  When sapless age and weak unable limbs

  Should bring thy father to his drooping chair.

  But, O malignant and ill-boding stars!

  Now thou art come unto a feast of death,

  A terrible and unavoided danger:

  Therefore, dear boy, mount on my swiftest horse;

  And I'll direct thee how thou shalt escape

  By sudden flight: come, dally not, be gone.

  Oh young John Talbot! I sent for you

  to teach you the business of war,

  so that you could bear the name of Talbot

  when weak old age and strengthless limbs

  confined your father to his invalid chair.

  But oh, what a terrible fate!

  You have come to a feast of death,

  a terrible and unavoidable danger:

  so, dear boy, take my swiftest horse;

  and I shall tell you how to escape

  in a sudden flight. Come, don't waste time, go.

  JOHN.

  Is my name Talbot? and am I your son?

  And shall I fly? O, if you love my mother,

  Dishonor not her honorable name,

  To make a bastard and a slave of me!

  The world will say, he is not Talbot's blood,

  That basely fled when noble Talbot stood.

  Is my name Talbot? And am I your son?

  And shall I flee? Oh, if you love my mother,

  do not dishonour her honourable name,

  by making a bastard and a slave out of me!

  The world will say, he cannot have been Talbot's son,

  because he ran away when noble Talbot didn't.

  TALBOT.

  Fly, to revenge my death, if I be slain.

  Flee, and revenge my death, if I am killed.

  JOHN.

  He that flies so will ne'er return again.

  Anyone who flees like that will never come back.

  TALBOT.

  If we both stay, we both are sure to die.

  If we both stay, we are both certain to die.

  JOHN.

  Then let me stay; and, father, do you fly;

  Your loss is great, so your regard should be;

  My worth unknown, no loss is known in me.

  Upon my death the French can little boast;

  In yours they will, in you all hopes are lost.

  Flight cannot stain the honor you have won;

  But mine it will, that no exploit have done;

  You fled for vantage, every one will swear;

  But, if I bow, they 'll say it was for fear.

  There is no hope that ever I will stay,

  If the first hour I shrink and run away.

  Here on my knee I beg mortality,

  Rather than life preserved with infamy.

  Then let me stay, and you, father, flee;

  you are so well regarded your loss would be huge,

  nobody knows me, nobody would miss me.

  The French couldn't boast about killing me;

  they will boast about you, and all hopes will be lost if you die.

  Running away cannot tarnish the honour you have won;

  but it will tarnish mine, who has done nothing;

  everyone will swear that you fled out of strategy;

  but, if I do it, they'll say it's because I was scared.

  There's no hope that I would ever stand in a battle,

  if I run away in my first hour of one.

  I beg you on my knees to let me die,

  rather than live badly thought of.

  TALBOT.

  Shall all thy mother's hopes lie in one tomb?

  Shall everything your mother loves lie in one tomb?

  JOHN.

  Aye, rather than I 'll shame my mother's womb.

  Sooner that than that I should make her ashamed.

  TALBOT.

  Upon my blessing, I command thee go.

  I give you my blessing and order you to go.

  JOHN.

  To fight I will, but not to fly the foe.

  I will go to fight, but not to
escape the enemy.

  TALBOT.

  Part of thy father may be saved in thee.

  Part of your father might be preserved in you.

  JOHN.

  No part of him but will be shame in me.

  Any part which survived would be ashamed of me.

  TALBOT.

  Thou never hadst renown, nor canst not lose it.

  You never had any fame, so you can't lose it.

  JOHN.

  Yes, your renowned name: shall flight abuse it?

  I have your famous name: shall I tarnish it by fleeing?

  TALBOT.

  Thy father's charge shall clear thee from that stain.

  Your father's orders will absolve you from that accusation.

  JOHN.

  You cannot witness for me, being slain.

  If death be so apparent, then both fly.

  You will be dead and won't be able to bear witness for me.

  If death is so obvious, let's both run.

  TALBOT.

  And leave my followers here to fight and die;

  My age was never tainted with such shame.

  That would leave my followers here to fight and die;

  I would never allow such shame on my age.

  JOHN.

  And shall my youth be guilty of such blame?

  No more can I be sever'd from your side,

  Than can yourself yourself in twain divide:

  Stay, go, do what you will, the like do I;

  For live I will not, if my father die.

  But I have to have it on my youth?

  I can't be taken from your side,

  any more than you could split yourself in two:

  stay, go, do what you want, I shall do the same;

  for I will not live, if my father dies.

  TALBOT.

  Then here I take my leave of thee, fair son,

  Born to eclipse thy life this afternoon.

  Come, side by side together live and die;

  And soul with soul from France to heaven fly.

  Then I shall part from you here, fair son,

  born to lose your life this afternoon.

  Come, we shall live and die together, side by side;

  and our souls shall fly together from France to heaven.

  [Exeunt.]

  [Alarum: excursions, wherein Talbot's Son is hemmed

  about, and Talbot rescues him.]

  TALBOT.

  Saint George and victory; fight, soldiers, fight:

  The regent hath with Talbot broke his word,

  And left us to the rage of France his sword.

  Where is John Talbot? Pause, and take thy breath;

  I gave thee life and rescued thee from death.

  Fight, soldiers, fight for St George and victory;

  the Regent has broken his promise to Talbot,

  and left us to face the anger of France.

  Where is John Talbot? Pause, and catch your breath.

  I gave you life, and I rescued you from death.

  JOHN.

  O, twice my father, twice am I thy son!

  The life thou gavest me first was lost and done,

  Till with thy warlike sword, despite of fate,

  To my determined time thou gavest new date.

  Oh, you are twice my father, I am twice your son!

  I had lost the first life you gave me,

  until your warlike sword, rebelling against fate,

  set a new date for the time of my death.

  TALBOT.

  When from the Dauphin's crest thy sword struck fire,

  It warm'd thy father's heart with proud desire

  Of bold-faced victory. Then leaden age,

  Quicken'd with youthful spleen and warlike rage,

  Beat down Alencon, Orleans, Burgundy,

  And from the pride of Gallia rescued thee.

  The ireful bastard Orleans, that drew blood

  From thee, my boy, and had the maidenhood

  Of thy first fight, I soon encountered,

  And interchanging blows I quickly shed

  Some of his bastard blood; and in disgrace

  Bespoke him thus; 'Contaminated base

  And misbegotten blood I spill of thine,

  Mean and right poor, for that pure blood of mine,

  Which thou didst force from Talbot, my brave boy:'

  Here, purposing the Bastard to destroy,

  Came in strong rescue. Speak, thy father's care,

  Art thou not weary, John? how dost thou fare?

  Wilt thou yet leave the battle, boy, and fly,

  Now thou art seal'd the son of chivalry?

  Fly, to revenge my death when I am dead:

  The help of one stands me in little stead.

  O, too much folly is it, well I wot,

  To hazard all our lives in one small boat!

  If I to-day die not with Frenchmen's rage,

  To-morrow I shall die with mickle age:

  By me they nothing gain an if I stay;

  'Tis but the short'ning of my life one day:

  In thee thy mother dies, our household's name,

  My death's revenge, thy youth, and England's fame:

  All these and more we hazard by thy stay;

  All these are saved if thou wilt fly away.

  When your sword struck sparks from the Dauphin's helmet

  it warmed your father's heart with proud desire

  of startling victories

  then slow age,

  enlivened by youthful anger and warlike rage

  smashed down Alencon, Orleans, Burgundy,

  and rescued you from the pride of France.

  That angry bastard of Orleans, who drew blood

  from you, my boy, and was the one who faced you

  in your very first fight, I soon came across,

  and, exchanging blows, I quickly shed

  some of his bastard blood, and to insult him

  I spoke these words to him: “I am going to spill

  your contaminated lowly bastard blood,

  mean and poor, in exchange for the pure blood of mine

  which you spilt of my brave lad Talbot's."

  Then, as I meant to destroy the bastard,

  a strong force came to rescue him. Tell me, as your father:

  are you not tired, John? How are you?

  Why not now leave the battle, boy, and flee,

  now you have proved your chivalry?

  Flee, to revenge my death when I am dead;

  the help of just one will not be much help to me.

  I know perfectly well that it would be stupid

  to risk all our lives in just one boat.

  If I do not die today at the hand of an angry Frenchman,

  tomorrow I shall die of old age. They will gain nothing by killing me, and if I stay,

  I will only be shortening my life by a day;

  if you die so will your mother, the name of our family,

  revenge for my death, your youth and the honour of England.

  We are risking all these and more by you staying;

  all these will be saved, if you flee.

  JOHN.

  The sword of Orleans hath not made me smart;

  These words of yours draw life-blood from my heart:

  On that advantage, bought with such a shame,

  To save a paltry life and slay bright fame,

  Before young Talbot from old Talbot fly,

  The coward horse that bears me fall and die!

  And like me to the peasant boys of France,

  To be shame's scorn and subject of mischance!

  Surely, by all the glory you have won,

  An if I fly, I am not Talbot's son;

  Then talk no more of flight, it is no boot;

  If son to Talbot, die at Talbot's foot.

  The sword of Orleans didn't hurt me;

  these words of yours suck the lifeblood from my heart:

  shall I save my own life at the price<
br />
  of your death and reputation?

  Before young Talbot runs from old Talbot,

  may the coward horse that carries me fall and die!

  Compare me to the peasant boys of France,

  mock me with shame, and may fate punish me.

  Surely, through all the glory you have won,

  if I fly then I am not your son.

  So talk no more of flight, it's no use:

  if I am the son of Talbot, I shall die with Talbot.

  TALBOT.

  Then follow thou thy desperate sire of Crete,

  Thou Icarus; thy life to me is sweet:

  If thou wilt fight, fight by thy father's side;

  And, commendable proved, let 's die in pride.

  Then follow your desperate father of Crete,

  you Icarus; your life is dear to me:

  if you want to fight, fight by your father's side;

  and, having proved our bravery, we shall die proud men.

  [Exeunt.]

  [Alarum: excursions. Enter old Talbot led by a Servant.]

  TALBOT.

  Where is my other life? mine own is gone;

  O, where's young Talbot? where is valiant John?

  Triumphant death, smear'd with captivity,

  Young Talbot's valor makes me smile at thee:

  When he perceived me shrink and on my knee,

  His bloody sword he brandish'd over me,

  And, like a hungry lion, did commence

  Rough deeds of rage and stern impatience;

  But when my angry guardant stood alone,

  Tendering my ruin and assail'd of none,

  Dizzy-ey'd fury and great rage of heart

  Suddenly made him from my side to start

  Into the clustering battle of the French;

  And in that sea of blood my boy did drench

  His over-mounting spirit, and there died,

  My Icarus, my blossom, in his pride.