The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (207 page)

BEDFORD.

Now, quiet soul, depart when heaven please,

For I have seen our enemies' overthrow.

What is the trust or strength of foolish man?

They that of late were daring with their scoffs

Are glad and fain by flight to save themselves.

Now, quiet soul, you can leave when heaven orders,

for I have seen our enemies beaten.

What consistency or strength is there in foolish humanity?

Those who were recently talking so big

are now fleeing to save themselves.

[Bedford dies, and is carried in by two in his chair.]

[An alarum. Re-enter Talbot, Burgundy, and the rest.]

TALBOT.

Lost, and recover'd in a day again!

This is a double honor, Burgundy:

Yet heavens have glory for this victory!

Lost and recaptured in a day!

This is doubly honourable, Burgundy:

praise the heavens for this victory!

BURGUNDY.

Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy

Enshrines thee in his heart, and there erects

Thy noble deeds as valor's monuments.

Warlike and martial Talbot, Burgundy

venerates you in his heart, and places

your noble deeds there as monuments to bravery.

TALBOT.

Thanks, gentle duke. But where is Pucelle now?

I think her old familiar is asleep:

Now where 's the Bastard's braves, and Charles his gleeks?

What, all amort? Rouen hangs her head for grief

That such a valiant company are fled.

Now will we take some order in the town,

Placing therein some expert officers;

And then depart to Paris to the king,

For there young Henry with his nobles lie.

Thanks, gentle Duke. But where is Pucelle now?

I think her spiritual accomplice is asleep:

now where are the Bastard's challenges, and the jokes of Charles?

What, all dead? Rouen hangs her head in grief

that such a brave company has fled.

Now we will establish order in the town,

placing some expert officers in charge;

and then we shall go to Paris to see the King,

for that is where young Henry and his noblemen are.

BURGUNDY.

What wills Lord Talbot pleaseth Burgundy.

What Lord Talbot wants is pleasing to Burgundy.

TALBOT.

But yet, before we go, let 's not forget

The noble Duke of Bedford late deceased,

But see his exequies fulfill'd in Rouen:

A braver soldier never couched lance,

A gentler heart did never sway in court;

But kings and mightiest potentates must die,

For that's the end of human misery.

But still, before we go, let's not forget

the recently deceased Duke of Bedford,

and make sure his funeral rites are done in Rouen:

a braver soldier never held a lance,

and a more gentle heart never ruled a court;

but Kings and the greatest of rulers must die,

for that is the way we end the misery of life.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter Charles, the Bastard of Orleans, Alencon, La Pucelle,

and forces.]

PUCELLE.

Dismay not, princes, at this accident,

Nor grieve that Rouen is so recovered:

Care is no cure, but rather corrosive,

For things that are not to be remedied.

Let frantic Talbot triumph for a while

And like a peacock sweep along his tail;

We 'll pull his plumes and take away his train,

If Dauphin and the rest will be but ruled.

Do not be dismayed, Princes, at this unlucky event,

nor grieve that Rouen has been recaptured:

there's no sense in worrying about

things we can do nothing about.

Let mad Talbot enjoy his triumph for a while,

and flaunt his tail like a peacock;

we'll pull out his feathers and remove his tail,

if the Dauphin and his followers will do as I say.

CHARLES.

We have been guided by thee hitherto,

And of thy cunning had no diffidence:

One sudden foil shall never breed distrust.

We have been guided by you so far,

and had no doubts about your plans:

one setback won't unsettle our faith.

BASTARD.

Search out thy wit for secret policies,

And we will make thee famous through the world.

Use your intelligence to devise cunning plans,

and we will make you famous throughout the world.

ALENCON.

We'll set thy statue in some holy place,

And have thee reverenced like a blessed saint.

Employ thee then, sweet virgin, for our good.

We’ll put up your statue in some holy place,

and have you worshipped like a blessed saint.

Get to work then, sweet virgin, for our good.

PUCELLE.

Then thus it must be; this doth Joan devise:

By fair persuasions mix'd with sugar'd words

We will entice the Duke of Burgundy

To leave the Talbot and to follow us.

Then this is how it must be; this is what Joan advises:

with good offers mixed with sweet words

we shall persuade the Duke of Burgundy

to leave Talbot and follow us.

CHARLES.

Aye, marry, sweeting, if we could do that,

France were no place for Henry's warriors;

Nor should that nation boast it so with us,

But be extirped from our provinces.

Well, yes, sweetheart, if we could do that,

France would be no place for Henry's soldiers;

that country wouldn't keep up the fight with us,

they would be thrown out of our lands.

ALENCON.

For ever should they be expulsed from France,

And not have title of an earldom here.

They would be expelled from France forever,

and they would not have so much as an earldom left here.

PUCELLE.

Your honours shall perceive how I will work

To bring this matter to the wished end.

[Drum sounds afar off.]

Hark! by the sound of drum you may perceive

Their powers are marching unto Paris-ward.

Here sound an English march. Enter, and pass over

at a distance, Talbot and his forces.

There goes the Talbot, with his colors spread,

And all the troops of English after him.

[French march. Enter the Duke of Burgundy and forces.]

Now in the rearward comes the duke and his:

Fortune in favor makes him lag behind.

Summon a parley; we will talk with him.

[Trumpets sound a parley.]

Your Honours will see how I work

to bring this matter to its desired conclusion.

Listen–by the sound of the drum you can hear that

their forces are marching to Paris.

There goes Talbot with his banners flying,

and all the English forces following him.

Now behind him comes the Duke and his:

fortune favours us, making him fall behind.

Call a meeting. We shall talk to him.

CHARLES.

A parley with the Duke of Burgundy!

We wish to speak with the Duke of Burgundy!

BURGUNDY.

Who craves a parley with the Burgundy?

Who wants to speak with the Duke of Burgundy?

PUCELLE.

The princely Charles of France, thy countryman.

The royal Charles of France, your countryman.

BURGUNDY.

What say'st thou, Charles? for I am marching

hence.

What you have to say, Charles? I'm marching away.

CHARLES.

Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with thy words.

Speak, Pucelle, and enchant him with your words.

PUCELLE.

Brave Burgundy, undoubted hope of France!

Stay, let thy humble handmaid speak to thee.

Brave Burgundy, the greatest hope in France!

Wait, let your humble servant speak to you.

BURGUNDY.

Speak on; but be not over-tedious.

Speak, but don't drag it out.

PUCELLE.

Look on thy country, look on fertile France,

And see the cities and the towns defaced

By wasting ruin of the cruel foe.

As looks the mother on her lowly babe

When death doth close his tender dying eyes,

See, see the pining malady of France;

Behold the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,

Which thou thyself hast given her woful breast.

O, turn thy edged sword another way;

Strike those that hurt, and hurt not those that help.

One drop of blood drawn from thy country's bosom

Should grieve thee more than streams of foreign gore:

Return thee therefore with a flood of tears,

And wash away thy country's stained spots.

Look at your country, look at fertile France,

see the cities and towns damaged

by the vicious attacks of the cruel enemy.

As a mother looks on her tiny baby

when death closes his sweet dying eyes,

see the terrible illness of France;

see the wounds, the most unnatural wounds,

which you yourself have inflicted on her.

Oh, turn your sharp sword in another direction;

attack those who are wounding, don't wound those who help you.

One drop of blood from your countrymen should give you

more grief than rivers of foreign blood:

so come back with a flood of tears,

and wash away the bloodstains on your country.

BURGUNDY.

Either she hath bewitch'd me with her words,

Or nature makes me suddenly relent.

Either she has bewitched me with her words,

or nature has suddenly made me change my mind.

PUCELLE.

Besides, all French and France exclaims on thee,

Doubting thy birth and lawful progeny.