The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (25 page)

Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself

And brought in matter that should feed this fire;

And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out

With that same weak wind which enkindled it.

You taught me how to know the face of right,

Acquainted me with interest to this land,

Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;

And come ye now to tell me John hath made

His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?

I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,

After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;

And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back

Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?

Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,

What men provided, what munition sent,

To underprop this action? Is 't not I

That undergo this charge? Who else but I,

And such as to my claim are liable,

Sweat in this business and maintain this war?

Have I not heard these islanders shout out

'Vive le roi!' as I have bank'd their towns?

Have I not here the best cards for the game

To will this easy match, play'd for a crown?

And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?

No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.

Your Grace must excuse me, I will not retreat:

I am too noble to the used as a tool,

to be under the control of another,

to be a useful serving man and instrument

of any royal state throughout the world.

It was your words which first fanned the flames

of war between this punished kingdom and myself,

and gave reasons for it to carry on;

it's now far too big to be blown out

by the same weak breath which started it.

You taught me how to know what was right,

and showed me why I should conquer this land,

indeed, you were the one who encouraged me;

and now you come to tell me that John has made

his peace with Rome? What does that peace matter to me?

Through the honour of my marriage I am

the next in line to claim this land after young Arthur;

and, now it is half won, must I retreat

because John has made his peace with Rome?

Am I the slave of Rome? What money has Rome spent,

what men has it given, what arms has it sent,

to support this action? Aren't I the one

who's paid for all this? Who else but me,

and those who are subject to my claim,

have sweated in this business and supported this war?

Haven't I heard these islanders shouting out

“Long live the King!" as I won over their towns?

Don't I hold all the best cards in the game

to win this easy victory for a crown?

Show I now hand over the whole set?

No, no, I swear on my soul, I shall never do it.

PANDULPH.

You look but on the outside of this work.

You only understand the outside of this business.

LEWIS.

Outside or inside, I will not return

Till my attempt so much be glorified

As to my ample hope was promised

Before I drew this gallant head of war,

And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world

To outlook conquest, and to win renown

Even in the jaws of danger and of death.

 [Trumpet sounds]

What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?

Outside or inside, I will not go back

until my attempt is glorified

with the great success I hoped for

before I raised this brave army,

and chose these fiery spirits

to face down conquerors, and to win fame

even in the jaws of danger and death.

[Trumpet sounds]

what loud trumpet is this calling us?

Enter the BASTARD, attended

BASTARD.

According to the fair play of the world,

Let me have audience: I am sent to speak.

My holy lord of Milan, from the King

I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;

And, as you answer, I do know the scope

And warrant limited unto my tongue.

According to the general rules of the world,

listen to me: I have been sent to speak.

My holy Lord of Milan, I have come

from the King, to find out what you have done for him;

what I say depends upon your answer.

PANDULPH.

The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,

And will not temporize with my entreaties;

He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms.

The Dauphin is too wilful and contrary,

and will not agree to my pleas;

he outright says that he will not retreat.

BASTARD.

By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,

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