Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
Jamy
I say gud-day, Captain Fluellen.
Good day, Captain Fluellen.
Fluellen
God-den to your worship, good Captain James.
Hello, Captain James.
Gower
How now, Captain Macmorris! have you quit the mines?
Have the pioneers given o'er?
How are you, Captain Macmorris? Have you forgotten about the mines? Have the men given up?
Macmorris
By Chrish, la! 'tish ill done! The work ish give over, the
trompet sound the retreat. By my hand I swear, and my
father's soul, the work ish ill done; it ish give over. I would have blowed up the town, so Chrish save me, la! in an hour. O, 'tish ill done, 'tish ill done; by my hand, 'tish ill done!
Christ, it’s horrible. The work is done and the trumpet sounded for retreat. I swear the work was not done well. I could have blown up the town in an hour, I swear, but the work wasn’t done.
Fluellen
Captain Macmorris, I beseech you now, will you voutsafe me, look you, a few disputations with you, as partly touching or concerning the disciplines of the war, the Roman wars, in the way of argument, look you, and friendly communication; partly to satisfy my opinion, and partly for the satisfaction, look you, of my mind, as touching the direction of the military discipline; that is the point.
Captain Macmorris, I would like to talk with you about war tactics, particularly the Roman’s, to see if we agree.
Jamy
It sall be vary gud, gud feith, gud captains bath: and I sall quit you with gud leve, as I may pick occasion; that sall I, marry.
That would be good, good captains. As soon as I have time, we will discuss it.
Macmorris
It is no time to discourse, so Chrish save me. The day is hot, and the weather, and the wars, and the King, and the Dukes. It is no time to discourse. The town is beseech'd, and the trumpet call us to the breach, and we talk, and, be Chrish, do nothing. 'Tis shame for us all. So God sa' me, 'tis shame to stand still; it is shame, by my hand; and there is throats to be cut, and works to be done; and there ish nothing done, so Chrish sa' me, la!
This is no time for a discussion. Christ, save me. The day is hot and war is all around us. It’s no time to have a conversation. The town is under raid and the battle trumpet is calling and we sit here talking. Shame on us. God save me. It’s a shame to stand still when there are throats to be cut and work to be done.
Jamy
By the mess, ere theise eyes of mine take themselves to slomber, I'll de gud service, or I'll lig i' the grund for it; ay, or go to death; and I'll pay't as valorously as I may, that sall I suerly do, that is the breff and the long. Marry, I wad full fain heard some question 'tween you tway.
I swear before I sleep, I’ll do some good work today or die trying, and that’s the truth. I would love to hear you two discuss warfare, though.
Fluellen
Captain Macmorris, I think, look you, under your correction, there is not many of your nation--
Captain Macmorris, I think there aren’t many from your nation…
Macmorris
Of my nation! What ish my nation? Ish a villain, and a bastard, and a knave, and a rascal? What ish my nation? Who talks of my nation?
My nation! What is my nation? You are a villain and a rascal. Who talks about my nation?
Fluellen
Look you, if you take the matter otherwise than is meant, Captain Macmorris, peradventure I shall think you do not use me with that affability as in discretion you ought to use me, look you, being as good a man as yourself, both in the disciplines of war, and in the derivation of my birth, and in other particularities.
Look you, if you take what I’m saying wrong, Captain Macmorris, you don’t know me very well. I am as good a man as you, by birth and the disciplines of war.
Macmorris
I do not know you so good a man as myself. So Chrish save me, I will cut off your head.
I know no such thing, so by Christ, I will cut off your head.
Gower
Gentlemen both, you will mistake each other.
Gentlemen, you both are out of line.
Jamy
Ah! that's a foul fault.
And that’s a serious fault.
A trumpet sounds.
Gower
The town sounds a parley.
The town is sounding the trumpet.
Fluellen
Captain Macmorris, when there is more better opportunity to be required, look you, I will be so bold as to tell you I know the disciplines of war; and there is an end.
Captain Macmorris, when there is a better time, I will show you I know more about warfare, and that’s all.
Exit.
The Governor and some Citizens on the walls; the English forces below. Enter King Henry and his train.
King
How yet resolves the governor of the town?
This is the latest parle we will admit;
Therefore to our best mercy give yourselves,
Or like to men proud of destruction
Defy us to our worst; for, as I am a soldier,
A name that in my thoughts becomes me best,
If I begin the battery once again,
I will not leave the half-achieved Harfleur
Till in her ashes she lie buried.
The gates of mercy shall be all shut up,
And the flesh'd soldier, rough and hard of heart,
In liberty of bloody hand shall range
With conscience wide as hell, mowing like grass
Your fresh fair virgins and your flow'ring infants.
What is it then to me, if impious War,
Array'd in flames like to the prince of fiends,
Do with his smirch'd complexion all fell feats
Enlink'd to waste and desolation?
What is't to me, when you yourselves are cause,
If your pure maidens fall into the hand
Of hot and forcing violation?
What rein can hold licentious wickedness
When down the hill he holds his fierce career?
We may as bootless spend our vain command
Upon the enraged soldiers in their spoil
As send precepts to the leviathan
To come ashore. Therefore, you men of Harfleur,
Take pity of your town and of your people,
Whiles yet my soldiers are in my command,
Whiles yet the cool and temperate wind of grace
O'erblows the filthy and contagious clouds
Of heady murder, spoil, and villainy.
If not, why, in a moment look to see
The blind and bloody soldier with foul hand
Defile the locks of your shrill-shrieking daughters;
Your fathers taken by the silver beards,
And their most reverend heads dash'd to the walls;
Your naked infants spitted upon pikes,
Whiles the mad mothers with their howls confus'd
Do break the clouds, as did the wives of Jewry
At Herod's bloody-hunting slaughtermen.
What say you? Will you yield, and this avoid,
Or, guilty in defence, be thus destroy'd?
How does the governor of the town want to resolve this? This is his last chance before I turn my men loose and let them do their worst. I am a soldier, and if I start to fight again, I will not stop until the town of Harfleur is ashes. The gates of mercy will be closed and my soldiers will have their way with your women and children. What is it to me, if in the battles of war, there is complete and utter destruction? What is it to me when you brought all of this on yourselves?
Why do I care if your maidens are violated and what can rein in wickedness once it is loose? Who can stop the blood-thirsty soldiers in the midst of their looting? Therefore, you men of Harfleur, take pity on your town and your people, while I still have command of my soldiers. If you don’t give up, you will see bloody soldiers defile your shrieking daughters and old men killed. Your children will be placed upon pikes while their mothers how. Give up like the Jewish women during Herod’s bloody slaughter. What do you say? Will you yield and avoid catastrophe or will you continue and be destroyed?
Governor
Our expectation hath this day an end.
The Dauphin, whom of succours we entreated,
Returns us that his powers are yet not ready
To raise so great a siege. Therefore, great King,
We yield our town and lives to thy soft mercy.
Enter our gates; dispose of us and ours;
For we no longer are defensible.
Our hope and expectations have been dashed, because the Dauphin is not ready to send his powers to help us, so we yield our town and lives to you. Be merciful and enter our gates we can no longer defend.
King
Open your gates. Come, uncle Exeter,
Go you and enter Harfleur; there remain,
And fortify it strongly 'gainst the French.
Use mercy to them all. For us, dear uncle,
The winter coming on, and sickness growing
Upon our soldiers, we will retire to Calais.
To-night in Harfleur will we be your guest;
To-morrow for the march are we addrest.
Open your gates. Come, Uncle Exeter, enter Harfleur and stay to fortify it against the French. Be merciful, dear uncle, because winter is coming and sickness grows among our soldiers. We will go to Calais tomorrow, but tonight we will stay in Harfleur.
Flourish. The King and his train enter the town.
Enter Katharine and Alice.
Katharine
Alice, tu as ete en Angleterre, et tu parles bien le langage.
Alice, you have been to England and know the language.