The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (175 page)

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

Un peu, madame.

 

A little, madam.

 

Katharine

Je te prie, m'enseignez; il faut que j'apprenne a parler.

Comment appelez-vous la main en Anglois?

 

Please teach me. I must learn English. What is the word for “la main?”

 

Alice

La main? Elle est appelee de hand.

 

“La main?” That is the hand.

 

Katharine

De hand. Et les doigts?

 

The hand. What about “les doigts?”

 

Alice

Les doigts? Ma foi, j'oublie les doigts; mais je me

souviendrai. Les doigts? Je pense qu'ils sont appeles de

fingres; oui, de fingres.

 

Les doigts? Goodness, I have forgotten. Let me think. I believe it is fingers. Yes, it is fingers.

 

Katharine

La main, de hand; les doigts, de fingres. Je pense que

je suis le bon ecolier; j'ai gagne deux mots d'Anglois

vitement. Comment appelez-vous les ongles?

 

La main is hand and les doigts is fingers. I am a very good student. I know two words already. What is the word for “les ongles?”

 

Alice

Les ongles? Nous les appelons de nails.

 

“Les ongles?” That is nails.

 

Katharine

De nails. Ecoutez; dites-moi, si je parle bien: de hand,

de fingres, et de nails.

 

Nails. Listen, am I saying it right? Hand, fingers, nails.

 

Alice

C'est bien dit, madame; il est fort bon Anglois.

 

Good job, madam. You speak English.

 

Katharine

Dites-moi l'Anglois pour le bras.

 

Tell me the English word for “le bras.”

 

Alice

De arm, madame.

 

Arm, madam.

 

Katharine

Et le coude?

 

And “le coud?”

 

Alice

D'elbow.

 

The elbow.

 

Katharine

D'elbow. Je m'en fais la repetition de tous les mots

que vous m'avez appris des a present.

 

Elbow. Let me practice all the words you’ve taught me.

 

Alice

Il est trop difficile, madame, comme je pense.

 

It may be too difficult.

 

Katharine

Excusez-moi, Alice; ecoutez: d'hand, de fingres, de

nails, d'arma, de bilbow.

 

I don’t think so, Alice. Listen, hand, fingers, nails, arma, and bilbow.

 

Alice

D'elbow, madame.

 

Elbow, madam.

 

Katharine

O Seigneur Dieu, je m'en oublie! D'elbow.

Comment appelez-vous le col?

 

Oh, I forgot! Elbow. What is the word for “le col?”

 

Alice

De nick, madame.

 

Neck, madam.

 

Katharine

De nick. Et le menton?

 

Nick. And “le menton?”

 

Alice

De chin.

 

Le menton is chin.

 

Katharine

De sin. Le col, de nick; le menton, de sin.

 

Neck and sin.

 

Alice

Oui. Sauf votre honneur, en verite, vous prononcez les

mots aussi droit que les natifs d'Angleterre.

 

Yes. Your Highness sounds just like a native speaker of English.

 

Katharine

Je ne doute point d'apprendre, par la grace de Dieu,

et en peu de temps.

 

I will learn it quickly, I think, God willing.

 

Alice

N'avez-vous pas deja oublie ce que je vous ai enseigne?

 

You remember what I just taught you?

 

Katharine

Non, je reciterai a vous promptement: d'hand, de

fingres, de mails,--

 

Let me see. Hand, fingers, nails…

 

Alice

De nails, madame.

 

Nails…

 

Katharine

De nails, de arm, de ilbow.

 

Nails, arm, ilbow.

 

Alice

Sauf votre honneur, de elbow.

 

Sorry, elbow.

 

Katharine

Ainsi dis-je; d'elbow, de nick, et de sin. Comment

appelez-vous le pied et la robe?

 

That’s what I said. Elbow, nick, and sin. What are the words for “le pied” and “la robe?”

 

Alice

De foot, madame; et de coun.

 

Foot, madam, and count.

 

Katharine

De foot et de coun! O Seigneur Dieu! ce sont mots de son

mauvais, corruptible, gros, et impudique, et non pour les

dames d'honneur d'user. Je ne voudrais prononcer ces mots

devant les seigneurs de France pour tout le monde. Foh! le

foot et le coun! Neanmoins, je reciterai une autre fois ma lecon ensemble: d' hand, de fingres, de nails, d'arm, d'elbow, de nick, de sin, de foot, de coun.

 

Foot and count! Those are ugly words, for a respectable girl to say. I would not say those words in front of the lords of France. Ugh! Foot and count! However, I will say them once more. Hand, fingers, nails, arm, elbow, nick, sin, foot, and coun.

 

Alice

Excellent, madame!

 

Excellent, madam.

 

Katharine

C'est assez pour une fois: allons-nous a diner.

 

That’s enough for one day. Let’s go eat.

 

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.

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