The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 15
had robbed and taken away the jewel of life.
KING JOHN.
That villain Hubert told me he did live.
That villain Hubert told me he was alive.
BASTARD.
So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew.
But wherefore do you droop? Why look you sad?
Be great in act, as you have been in thought;
Let not the world see fear and sad distrust
Govern the motion of a kingly eye.
Be stirring as the time; be fire with fire;
Threaten the threat'ner, and outface the brow
Of bragging horror; so shall inferior eyes,
That borrow their behaviours from the great,
Grow great by your example and put on
The dauntless spirit of resolution.
Away, and glister like the god of war
When he intendeth to become the field;
Show boldness and aspiring confidence.
What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
And fright him there, and make him tremble there?
O, let it not be said! Forage, and run
To meet displeasure farther from the doors
And grapple with him ere he come so nigh.
I swear he thought that that was true.
But why are you drooping? Why do you look so sad?
Be as great in action as you have been in thought;
don't let the world see fear and doubt
ruling the eye of the King.
Be as active as the situation; fight fire with fire;
threaten those who threaten you, and stare down
arrogant terror; so inferior people,
who copy the greatness of their betters,
will become great through your example
and gather up dare dauntless resolve.
Go, and shine like the God of War
when he intends to join the battle;
showed bravery and great confidence.
What, shall they look for the lion in his den,
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 is
land,
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
Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself
And brought in matter that should feed this fire;
And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out
With that same weak wind which enkindled it.
You taught me how to know the face of right,
Acquainted me with interest to this land,
Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart;
And come ye now to tell me John hath made
His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me?
I, by the honour of my marriage-bed,
After young Arthur, claim this land for mine;
And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back
Because that John hath made his peace with Rome?
Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne,
What men provided, what munition sent,
To underprop this action? Is 't not I
That undergo this charge? Who else but I,
And such as to my claim are liable,
Sweat in this business and maintain this war?
Have I not heard these islanders shout out
'Vive le roi!' as I have bank'd their towns?
Have I not here the best cards for the game
To will this easy match, play'd for a crown?
And shall I now give o'er the yielded set?
No, no, on my soul, it never shall be said.
Your Grace must excuse me, I will not retreat:
I am too noble to the used as a tool,
to be under the control of another,
to be a useful serving man and instrument
of any royal state throughout the world.
It was your words which first fanned the flames
of war between this punished kingdom and myself,
and gave reasons for it to carry on;
it's now far too big to be blown out
by the same weak breath which started it.
You taught me how to know what was right,
and showed me why I should conquer this land,
indeed, you were the one who encouraged me;
and now you come to tell me that John has made
his peace with Rome? What does that peace matter to me?
Through the honour of my marriage I am
the next in line to claim this land after young Arthur;
and, now it is half won, must I retreat
because John has made his peace with Rome?
Am I the slave of Rome? What money has Rome spent,
what men has it given, what arms has it sent,
to support this action? Aren't I the one
who's paid for all this? Who else but me,
and those who are subject to my claim,
have sweated in this business and supported this war?
Haven't I heard these islanders shouting out
“Long live the King!" as I won over their towns?
Don't I hold all the best cards in the game
to win this easy victory for a crown?
Show I now hand over the whole set?
No, no, I swear on my soul, I shall never do it.
PANDULPH.
You look but on the outside of this work.
You only understand the outside of this business.
LEWIS.
Outside or inside, I will not return
Till my attempt so much be glorified
As to my ample hope was promised
Before I drew this gallant head of war,
And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world
To outlook conquest, and to win renown
Even in the jaws of danger and of death.
[Trumpet sounds]
What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Outside or inside, I will not go back
until my attempt is glorified
with the great success I hoped for
before I raised this brave army,
and chose these fiery spirits
to face down conquerors, and to win fame
even in the jaws of danger and death.
[Trumpet sounds]
what loud trumpet is this calling us?
Enter the BASTARD, attended
BASTARD.
According to the fair play of the world,
Let me have audience: I am sent to speak.
My holy lord of Milan, from the King
I come, to learn how you have dealt for him;
And, as you answer, I do know the scope
And warrant limited unto my tongue.
According to the general rules of the world,
listen to me: I have been sent to speak.
My holy Lord of Milan, I have come
from the King, to find out what you have done for him;
what I say depends upon your answer.
PANDULPH.
The Dauphin is too wilful-opposite,
And will not temporize with my entreaties;
He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms.
The Dauphin is too wilful and contrary,
and will not agree to my pleas;
he outright says that he will not retreat.
BASTARD.
By all the blood that ever fury breath'd,