The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (212 page)

YORK.

Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have,

To bid his young son welcome to his grave?

Away! vexation almost stops my breath,

That sunder'd friends greet in the hour of death.

Lucy, farewell:  no more my fortune can,

But curse the cause I cannot aid the man.

Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away,

'Long all of Somerset and his delay.

Alas, is that the happiness noble Talbot has,

to welcome his young son to his grave?

Go! I almost can't breathe with sorrow,

that divided friends should meet at the hour of death.

Lucy, farewell: I can't help the man, all I can do

is curse the reason why.

Maine, Blois, Poitiers and Tours have all been lost,

thanks to Somerset and his delay.

[Exit, with his soldiers.]

LUCY.

Thus, while the vulture of sedition

Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders,

Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss

The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror,

That ever living man of memory,

Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross,

Lives, honors, lands and all hurry to loss.

So, while the vulture of rebellion

is eating at the heart of such great commanders,

lazy neglect has surrendered

the conquests of the conqueror who is hardly cold in his grave,

the man who lives forever in our memories,

Henry the Fifth: while they fight with each other,

lives, honour, lands and everything are lost.

[Exit.]

[Enter Somerset, with his army; a Captain of

Talbot's with him.]

SOMERSET.

It is too late; I cannot send them now:

This expedition was by York and Talbot

Too rashly plotted:  all our general force

Might with a sally of the very town

Be buckled with:  the over-daring Talbot

Hath sullied all his gloss of former honor

By this unheedful, desperate, wild adventure:

York set him on to fight and die in shame,

That, Talbot dead, great York might bear the name.

It's too late; I can't send them now:

York and Talbot launched this expedition

too hurriedly: all of our army

could be overcome just by an attack

of the townspeople: the reckless Talbot

has ruined the reputation which he previously gained

through this thoughtless, desperate and wild adventure:

York encouraged him to fight and die shamefully,

so that, with Talbot dead, great York might take his place.

CAPTAIN.

Here is Sir William Lucy, who with me

Set from our o'er-match'd forces forth for aid.

Here is Sir William Lucy, who came with me

from our outnumbered forces to find help.

[Enter Sir William Lucy.]

SOMERSET.

How now, Sir William! whither were you sent?

Hello there, Sir William! Where have you come from?

LUCY.

Whither, my lord? from bought and sold Lord Talbot;

Who, ring'd about with bold adversity,

Cries out for noble York and Somerset,

To beat assailing death from his weak legions;

And whiles the honorable captain there

Drops bloody sweat from his war-wearied limbs,

And, in advantage lingering, looks for rescue,

You, his false hopes, the trust of England's honor,

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.