The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (24 page)

andfrighten him there, make him tremble?

Oh, don't say that! Go out, and run

to meet the opposition farther from the doors

and fight with him before he gets so close.

KING JOHN.

The legate of the Pope hath been with me,

And I have made a happy peace with him;

And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers

Led by the Dauphin.

The Pope's representative has been here,

and I have arranged a happy peace with him;

he has promised to make the Dauphin

withdraw his forces.

BASTARD.

O inglorious league!

Shall we, upon the footing of our land,

Send fair-play orders, and make compromise,

Insinuation, parley, and base truce,

To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy,

A cock'red silken wanton, brave our fields

And flesh his spirit in a warlike soil,

Mocking the air with colours idly spread,

And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms.

Perchance the Cardinal cannot make your peace;

Or, if he do, let it at least be said

They saw we had a purpose of defence.

What a shameful alliance!

Shall we, standing in our own country,

bow down and ask for compromise,

ingratiate ourselves, speak sweetly and make

shameful truces with invaders? Shall a beardless boy,

a spoilt silky brat, show off in our fields

and learn to fight on our warlike soil,

mocking the air with his flags carelessly waving,

and not be stopped? Let us take up arms, my lord.

Perhaps the cardinal might be able to make peace;

or, if he does, let it be said that at least

they saw that we could have defended ourselves.

KING JOHN.

Have thou the ordering of this present time.

You have command in this situation.

BASTARD.

Away, then, with good courage!

Yet, I know

 Our party may well meet a prouder foe.

Come on then, and be confident!

but I know that we could easily beat a better enemy.

Exeunt

England. The DAUPHIN'S camp at Saint Edmundsbury

Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN, PEMBROKE, BIGOT, and

soldiers

LEWIS.

My Lord Melun, let this be copied out

And keep it safe for our remembrance;

Return the precedent to these lords again,

That, having our fair order written down,

Both they and we, perusing o'er these notes,

May know wherefore we took the sacrament,

And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.

My Lord Melun, copy this out

and keep it safe as a reminder;

take the original back to these lords,

so that, having our fair order written down,

both we and they, when we look over these notes,

will know why we made this holy oath,

and keep our faith firm and unbreakable.

SALISBURY.

Upon our sides it never shall be broken.

And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear

A voluntary zeal and an unurg'd faith

To your proceedings; yet, believe me, Prince,

I am not glad that such a sore of time

Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,

And heal the inveterate canker of one wound

By making many. O, it grieves my soul

That I must draw this metal from my side

To be a widow-maker! O, and there

Where honourable rescue and defence

Cries out upon the name of Salisbury!

But such is the infection of the time

That, for the health and physic of our right,

We cannot deal but with the very hand

Of stern injustice and confused wrong.

And is't not pity, O my grieved friends!

That we, the sons and children of this isle,

Were born to see so sad an hour as this;

Wherein we step after a stranger-march

Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up

Her enemies' ranks-I must withdraw and weep

Upon the spot of this enforced cause-

To grace the gentry of a land remote

And follow unacquainted colours here?

What, here? O nation, that thou couldst remove!

That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about,

Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself

And grapple thee unto a pagan shore,

Where these two Christian armies might combine

The blood of malice in a vein of league,

And not to spend it so unneighbourly!

Nobody on this side shall ever break it.

And, noble Dauphin, although we swear

voluntarily and give you our consent to your

proceedings without force; still believe me, prince,

I'm not happy that this time is so wounded

that it has to be cured with a horrible revolt,

and that we have to heal the disease of one wound

by making many. And it grieves my soul,

that I must unsheathe my sword

and make widows with it! In the place where

people appeal to Salisbury for

honourable rescue and defence!

But things are so wrong

that for the healthy cure of the time

we can only deal with the one who has dealt

out harsh injustice and confused wrongs.

Isn't it shameful, my sorrowing friends,

that we, the sons and children of this island,

were born to see such a sad time is this;

in which we follow a foreigner, march

across her sweet lands, and reinforce

the ranks of her enemies–I must stand aside and weep

at the stain of this enforced action–

to adorn the nobility of a remote country,

and follow their unfamiliar banners here?

What, here? Oh nation, if only you could move!

If only Neptune, whose ocean surrounds you,

could carry you away from knowledge of yourself–

handicap you–to a pagan shore,

where these two Christian armies could join

their harmful power together in alliance,

and not spend it on such unneighbourly activities!

LEWIS.

A noble temper dost thou show in this;

And great affections wrestling in thy bosom

Doth make an earthquake of nobility.

O, what a noble combat hast thou fought

Between compulsion and a brave respect!

Let me wipe off this honourable dew

That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks.

My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,

Being an ordinary inundation;

But this effusion of such manly drops,

This show'r, blown up by tempest of the soul,

Startles mine eyes and makes me more amaz'd

Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven

Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.

Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,

And with a great heart heave away this storm;

Commend these waters to those baby eyes

That never saw the giant world enrag'd,

Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,

Full of warm blood, of mirth, of gossiping.

Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep

Into the purse of rich prosperity

As Lewis himself. So, nobles, shall you all,

That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.

Enter PANDULPH

And even there, methinks, an angel spake:

Look where the holy legate comes apace,

To give us warrant from the hand of heaven

And on our actions set the name of right

With holy breath.

You show a noble spirit in saying this;

and the great loyalties wrestling in your heart

make an earthquake of nobility.

Oh, what a noble combat you have fought

between what you were compelled to do and what was right!

Let me wipe off this honourable dew,

that runs in silver streams down your cheeks:

my heart has been melted by a lady's tears,

just an ordinary flood;

but this stream of such manly drops,

this shower, blown up by the storm in your soul,

amazes me, more so than

if I had seen the heights of heaven

absolutely covered with fiery meteors. Look up, renowned Salisbury,

and with a great heart push this storm away:

leave these tears to the eyes of babies

who never saw the whole world in conflict,

and never met fortune except in good circumstances,

with warm blood, happiness and gossiping.

Come, come; you shall gain as much

from this action as

I will myself: so, nobles, shall you all,

everyone who joins forces with me.

[Enter Pandulph]

And just then, I think, an angel spoke:

look, here comes the Pope's representative

to give us permission from the agent of heaven,

to seal our actions as being right

with holy breath.

PANDULPH.

Hail, noble prince of France!

The next is this: King John hath reconcil'd

Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,

That so stood out against the holy Church,

The great metropolis and see of Rome.

Therefore thy threat'ning colours now wind up

And tame the savage spirit of wild war,

That, like a lion fostered up at hand,

It may lie gently at the foot of peace

And be no further harmful than in show.

Greetings, noble Prince of France!

This is the news: King John has reconciled

himself with Rome; the spirit that so rebelled

against the holy Church, the great city and

seat of Rome, has come back.

So take down your military flags

and calm the savage spirit of wild war,

so that, like a lion raised by hand,

it may lie gently at the foot of peace

and only look dangerous.

LEWIS.

Your Grace shall pardon me, I will not back:

I am too high-born to be propertied,

To be a secondary at control,

Or useful serving-man and instrument

To any sovereign state throughout the world.

Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars