Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

сообщить о нарушении

Текущая страница: 116 (всего у книги 250 страниц)

4.2 Enter the Dukes of ⌈Bourbon⌉and Orléans, and Lord Rambures

ORLÉANS The sun doth gild our armour. Up, my lords!

⌈BOURBON⌉Monte cheval! My horse! Varlet, lacquais! Ha!

ORLÉANS O brave spirit!

⌈BOURBON⌉ Via les eaux et terre!

ORLÉANS Rien plus? L’air et feu!

⌈BOURBON⌉ Cieux, cousin Orléans!

Enter the Constable

Now, my Lord Constable!

CONSTABLE Hark how our steeds for present service neigh.

⌈BOURBON⌉

Mount them and make incision in their hides,

That their hot blood may spin in English eyes

And dout them with superfluous courage. Ha!

RAMBURES

What, will you have them weep our horses’ blood?

How shall we then behold their natural tears?

Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER

The English are embattled, you French peers.

CONSTABLE

To horse, you gallant princes, straight to horse!

Do but behold yon poor and starved band,

And your fair show shall suck away their souls,

Leaving them but the shells and husks of men.

There is not work enough for all our hands,

Scarce blood enough in all their sickly veins

To give each naked curtal-axe a stain

That our French gallants shall today draw out

And sheathe for lack of sport. Let us but blow on

them,

The vapour of our valour will o‘erturn them.

’Tis positive ’gainst all exceptions, lords,

That our superfluous lackeys and our peasants,

Who in unnecessary action swarm

About our squares of battle, were enough

To purge this field of such a hilding foe,

Though we upon this mountain’s basis by

Took stand for idle speculation,

But that our honours must not. What’s to say?

A very little little let us do

And all is done. Then let the trumpets sound

The tucket sonance and the note to mount,

For our approach shall so much dare the field

That England shall couch down in fear and yield.

Enter Lord Grandpré

GRANDPRÉ

Why do you stay so long, my lords of France?

Yon island carrions, desperate of their bones,

Ill-favouredly become the morning field.

Their ragged curtains poorly are let loose

And our air shakes them passing scornfully.

Big Mars seems bankrupt in their beggared host

And faintly through a rusty beaver peeps.

The horsemen sit like fixed candlesticks

With torchstaves in their hands, and their poor jades

Lob down their heads, drooping the hides and hips,

The gum down-roping from their pale dead eyes,

And in their palled dull mouths the gimmaled bit

Lies foul with chewed grass, still and motionless.

And their executors, the knavish crows,

Fly o’er them all impatient for their hour.

Description cannot suit itself in words

To demonstrate the life of such a battle

In life so lifeless as it shows itself.

CONSTABLE

They have said their prayers, and they stay for death.

⌈BOURBON⌉

Shall we go send them dinners and fresh suits

And give their fasting horses provender,

And after fight with them?

CONSTABLE

I stay but for my guidon. To the field!

I will the banner from a trumpet take

And use it for my haste. Come, come away!

The sun is high, and we outwear the day. Exeunt

4.3 Enter the Dukes of Gloucester, ⌈Clarence⌉, and Exeter, the Earls of Salisbury and ⌈Warwick⌉, and Sir Thomas Erpingham, with all ⌈the⌉ host

GLOUCESTER Where is the King?

⌈CLARENCE⌉

The King himself is rode to view their battle.

[WARWICK]

Of fighting men they have full threescore thousand.

EXETER

There’s five to one. Besides, they all are fresh.

SALISBURY

God’s arm strike with us! ‘Tis a fearful odds.

God b’wi’ you, princes all. I’ll to my charge.

If we no more meet till we meet in heaven,

Then joyfully, my noble Lord of Clarence,

My dear Lord Gloucester, and my good Lord Exeter,

And (to Warwick) my kind kinsman, warriors all,

adieu.

⌈CLARENCE⌉

Farewell, good Salisbury, and good luck go with thee.

EXETER

Farewell, kind lord. Fight valiantly today—

And yet I do thee wrong to mind thee of it,

For thou art framed of the firm truth of valour.

Exit Salisbury

⌈CLARENCE⌉

He is as full of valour as of kindness,

Princely in both.

Enter King Harry, behind

⌈WARWICK⌉

O that we now had here

But one ten thousand of those men in England

That do no work today.

KING HARRY What’s he that wishes so?

My cousin Warwick? No, my fair cousin.

If we are marked to die, we are enough

To do our country loss; and if to live,

The fewer men, the greater share of honour.

God’s will, I pray thee wish not one man more.

By Jove, I am not covetous for gold,

Nor care I who doth feed upon my cost;

It ernes me not if men my garments wear;

Such outward things dwell not in my desires.

But if it be a sin to covet honour

I am the most offending soul alive.

No, faith, my coz, wish not a man from England.

God’s peace, I would not lose so great an honour

As one man more methinks would share from me

For the best hope I have. O do not wish one more.

Rather proclaim it presently through my host

That he which hath no stomach to this fight,

Let him depart. His passport shall be made

And crowns for convoy put into his purse.

We would not die in that man’s company

That fears his fellowship to die with us.

This day is called the Feast of Crispian.

He that outlives this day and comes safe home

Will stand a-tiptoe when this day is named

And rouse him at the name of Crispian.

He that shall see this day and live t‘old age

Will yearly on the vigil feast his neighbours

And say, ’Tomorrow is Saint Crispian.’

Then will he strip his sleeve and show his scars

And say, ’These wounds I had on Crispin’s day.’

Old men forget; yet all shall be forgot,

But he’ll remember, with advantages,

What feats he did that day. Then shall our names,

Familiar in his mouth as household words—

Harry the King, Bedford and Exeter,

Warwick and Talbot, Salisbury and Gloucester—

Be in their flowing cups freshly remembered.

This story shall the good man teach his son,

And Crispin Crispian shall ne’er go by

From this day to the ending of the world

But we in it shall be remembered,

We few, we happy few, we band of brothers.

For he today that sheds his blood with me

Shall be my brother; be he ne’er so vile,

This day shall gentle his condition.

And gentlemen in England now abed

Shall think themselves accursed they were not here,

And hold their manhoods cheap whiles any speaks

That fought with us upon Saint Crispin’s day.

Enter the Earl of Salisbury

SALISBURY

My sovereign lord, bestow yourself with speed.

The French are bravely in their battles set

And will with all expedience charge on us.

KING HARRY

All things are ready if our minds be so.

⌈WARWICK⌉ Perish the man whose mind is backward now.

KING HARRY

Thou dost not wish more help from England, coz?

⌈WARWICK⌉

God’s will, my liege, would you and I alone,

Without more help, could fight this royal battle.

KING HARRY

Why now thou hast unwished five thousand men,

Which likes me better than to wish us one.—

You know your places. God be with you all.

Tucket. Enter Montjoy

MONTJOY

Once more I come to know of thee, King Harry,

If for thy ransom thou wilt now compound

Before thy most assured overthrow.

For certainly thou art so near the gulf

Thou needs must be englutted. Besides, in mercy

The Constable desires thee thou wilt mind

Thy followers of repentance, that their souls

May make a peaceful and a sweet retire

From off these fields where, wretches, their poor

bodies

Must lie and fester.

KING HARRY Who hath sent thee now?

MONTJOY The Constable of France.

KING HARRY

I pray thee bear my former answer back.

Bid them achieve me, and then sell my bones.

Good God, why should they mock poor fellows thus?

The man that once did sell the lion’s skin

While the beast lived, was killed with hunting him. 95

A many of our bodies shall no doubt

Find native graves, upon the which, I trust,

Shall witness live in brass of this day’s work.

And those that leave their valiant bones in France,

Dying like men, though buried in your dunghills

They shall be famed. For there the sun shall greet

them

And draw their honours reeking up to heaven,

Leaving their earthly parts to choke your clime,

The smell whereof shall breed a plague in France.

Mark then abounding valour in our English,

That, being dead, like to the bullets grazing

Break out into a second course of mischief,

Killing in relapse of mortality.

Let me speak proudly. Tell the Constable

We are but warriors for the working day.

Our gayness and our gilt are all besmirched

With rainy marching in the painful field.

There’s not a piece of feather in our host—

Good argument, I hope, we will not fly—

And time hath worn us into slovenry.

But by the mass, our hearts are in the trim.

And my poor soldiers tell me, yet ere night

They’ll be in fresher robes, as they will pluck

The gay new coats o‘er your French soldiers’ heads,

And turn them out of service. If they do this—

As if God please, they shall—my ransom then

Will soon be levied. Herald, save thou thy labour.

Come thou no more for ransom, gentle herald.

They shall have none, I swear, but these my joints—

Which if they have as I will leave ’em them,

Shall yield them little. Tell the Constable.

MONTJOY

I shall, King Harry. And so fare thee well.

Thou never shalt hear herald any more.

KING HARRY

I fear thou wilt once more come for a ransom.

Exit Montjoy

Enter the Duke of York

YORK

My lord, most humbly on my knee I beg

The leading of the vanguard.

KING HARRY

Take it, brave York.—Now soldiers, march away,

And how thou pleasest, God, dispose the day. Exeunt

4.4 Alarum. Excursions. Enter Pistol, a French soldier, and the Boy

PISTOL Yield, cur.

FRENCH SOLDIER je pense que vous êtes le gentilhomme de bon qualité.

PISTOL

Qualité? ‘Calin o custure me!’

Art thou a gentleman? What is thy name? Discuss.

FRENCH SOLDIER O Seigneur Dieu!

PISTOL ⌈aside⌉

O Seigneur Dew should be a gentleman.—

Perpend my words, O Seigneur Dew, and mark:

O Seigneur Dew, thou diest, on point of fox,

Except, O Seigneur, thou do give to me

Egregious ransom.

FRENCH SOLDIER O prenez miséricorde! Ayez pitie de moi!

PISTOL

‘Moy’ shall not serve, I will have forty ‘moys’,

Or I will fetch thy rim out at thy throat

In drops of crimson blood.

FRENCH SOLDIER Est-il impossible d’échapper la force de ton bras?

PISTOL

Brass, cur? Thou damned and luxurious mountain

goat,

Offer’st me brass?

FRENCH SOLDIER O pardonne-moi!

PISTOL

Sayst thou me so? Is that a ton of moys?—

Come hither boy. Ask me this slave in French

What is his name.

BOY Écoutez: comment êtes-vous appelé?

FRENCH SOLDIER Monsieur le Fer.

BOY He says his name is Master Fer.

PISTOL Master Fer? I’ll fer him, and firk him, and ferret him.

Discuss the same in French unto him.

BOY I do not know the French for fer and ferret and firk.

PISTOL Bid him prepare, for I will cut his throat.

FRENCH SOLDIER Que dit-il, monsieur?

BOY Il me commande à vous dire que vous faites vous prêt, car ce soldat ici est dispose tout à cette heure de couper votre gorge. 35

PISTOL

Oui, couper la gorge, par ma foi,

Peasant, unless thou give me crowns, brave crowns;

Or mangled shalt thou be by this my sword.

FRENCH SOLDIER O je vous supplie, pour l’amour de Dieu, me pardonner. Je suis le gentilhomme de bonne maison. Gardez ma vie, et je vous donnerai deux cents écus.

PISTOL What are his words?

BOY He prays you to save his life. He is a gentleman of a good house, and for his ransom he will give you two hundred crowns.

PISTOL

Tell him, my fury shall abate, and I the crowns will take.

FRENCH SOLDIER Petit monsieur, que dit-il?

BOY Encore qu’il est centre son jurement de pardonner aucun prisonnier; neanmoins, pour les ecus que vous lui ci promettez, il est content à vous donner la liberté, le franchisement.

FRENCH SOLDIER (kneeling to Pistol) Sur mes genoux je vous donne mille remerciements, et je m‘estime heureux que j’ai tombe entre les mains d‘un chevalier, comme je pense, le plus brave, vaillant, et treis-distingué seigneur d’Angleterre. PISTOL Expound unto me, boy.

BOY He gives you upon his knees a thousand thanks, and he esteems himself happy that he hath fallen into the hands of one, as he thinks, the most brave, valorous, and thrice-worthy seigneur of England.

PISTOL

As I suck blood, I will some mercy show.

Follow me.

BOY Suivez-vous le grand capitaine.

Exeunt Pistol and French Soldier

I did never know so full a voice issue from so empty a

heart. But the saying is true: ‘The empty vessel makes

the greatest sound.’ Bardolph and Nim had ten times

more valour than this roaring devil i’th’ old play, that

everyone may pare his nails with a wooden dagger,

and they are both hanged, and so would this be, if he

durst steal anything adventurously. I must stay with

the lackeys with the luggage of our camp. The French

might have a good prey of us, if he knew of it, for there

is none to guard it but boys. Exit

4.5 Enter the Constable, the Dukes ofOrléans and ⌈Bourbon⌉, and Lord Rambures

CONSTABLE O diable!

ORLÉANS O Seigneur! Le jour est perdu, tout est perdu!

⌈BOURBON⌉

Mort de ma vie! All is confounded, all.

Reproach and everlasting shame

Sits mocking in our plumes.

A short alarum

O mechante fortune!– (To Rambures) Do not run away.

⌈ORLÉANS⌉

We are enough yet living in the field

To smother up the English in our throngs,

If any order might be thought upon.

BOURBON

The devil take order. Once more back again!

And he that will not follow Bourbon now,

Let him go home, and with his cap in hand

Like a base leno hold the chamber door

Whilst by a slave no gentler than my dog

His fairest daughter is contaminated.

CONSTABLE

Disorder that hath spoiled us friend us now.

Let us on heaps go offer up our lives.

BOURBON I’ll to the throng.

Let life be short, else shame will be too long. Exeunt

4.6 Alarum. Enter King Harry and his train, with prisoners

KING HARRY

Well have we done, thrice-valiant countrymen.

But all’s not done; yet keep the French the field.

[Enter the Duke of Exeter]

EXETER

The Duke of York commends him to your majesty.

KING HARRY

Lives he, good uncle? Thrice within this hour

I saw him down, thrice up again and fighting.

From helmet to the spur, all blood he was.

EXETER

In which array, brave soldier, doth he lie,

Larding the plain. And by his bloody side,

Yokefellow to his honour-owing wounds,

The noble Earl of Suffolk also lies.

Suffolk first died, and York, all haggled over,

Comes to him, where in gore he lay insteeped,

And takes him by the beard, kisses the gashes

That bloodily did yawn upon his face,

And cries aloud, ‘Tarry, dear cousin Suffolk.

My soul shall thine keep company to heaven.

Tarry, sweet soul, for mine, then fly abreast,

As in this glorious and well-foughten field

We kept together in our chivalry.’

Upon these words I came and cheered him up.

He smiled me in the face, raught me his hand,

And with a feeble grip says, ‘Dear my lord,

Commend my service to my sovereign.’

So did he turn, and over Suffolk’s neck

He threw his wounded arm, and kissed his lips,

And so espoused to death, with blood he sealed

A testament of noble-ending love.

The pretty and sweet manner of it forced

Those waters from me which I would have stopped.

But I had not so much of man in me,

And all my mother came into mine eyes

And gave me up to tears.

KING HARRY

I blame you not,

For hearing this I must perforce compound

With mistful eyes, or they will issue too.

Alarum

But hark, what new alarum is this same?

The French have reinforced their scattered men.

Then every soldier kill his prisoners.

[The soldiers kill their prisoners]

Give the word through.

⌈PISTOL⌉ Coup’ la gorge.

Exeunt

4.7 Enter Captains Fluellen and Gower

FLUELLEN Kill the poys and the luggage! ‘Tis expressly against the law of arms. ’Tis as arrant a piece of knavery, mark you now, as can be offert. In your conscience now, is it not?

GOWER ‘Tis certain there’s not a boy left alive. And the cowardly rascals that ran from the battle ha’ done this slaughter. Besides, they have burned and carried away all that was in the King’s tent; wherefore the King most worthily hath caused every soldier to cut his prisoner’s throat. O ’tis a gallant king.

FLUELLEN Ay, he was porn at Monmouth. Captain Gower, what call you the town’s name where Alexander the Pig was born?

GLOWER Alexander the Great.

FLUELLEN Why I pray you, is not ‘pig’ great? The pig or the great or the mighty or the huge or the magnanimous are all one reckonings, save the phrase is a little variations.

GOWER I think Alexander the Great was born in Macedon. His father was called Philip of Macedon, as I take it.

FLUELLEN I think it is e‘en Macedon where Alexander is porn. I tell you, captain, if you look in the maps of the world I warrant you sail find, in the comparisons between Macedon and Monmouth, that the situations, look you, is both alike. There is a river in Macedon, and there is also moreover a river at Monmouth. It is called Wye at Monmouth, but it is out of my prains what is the name of the other river—but ’tis all one, ’tis alike as my fingers is to my fingers, and there is salmons in both. If you mark Alexander’s life well, Harry of Monmouth’s life is come after it indifferent well. For there is figures in all things. Alexander, God knows, and you know, in his rages and his furies and his wraths and his cholers and his moods and his displeasures and his indignations, and also being a little intoxicates in his prains, did in his ales and his angers, look you, kill his best friend Cleitus—

GOWER Our King is not like him in that. He never killed any of his friends.

FLUELLEN It is not well done, mark you now, to take the tales out of my mouth ere it is made an end and finished. I speak but in the figures and comparisons of it. As Alexander killed his friend Cleitus, being in his ales and his cups, so also Harry Monmouth, being in his right wits and his good judgements, turned away the fat knight with the great-belly doublet—he was full of jests and gipes and knaveries and mocks—I have forgot his name.

GOWER Sir John Falstaff.

FLUELLEN That is he. I’ll tell you, there is good men porn at Monmouth.

GOWER Here comes his majesty.

Alarum. Enter King Harry ⌈and the English army⌉, with the Duke of Bourbon, ⌈the Duke of Orléans,⌉ and other prisoners. Flourish

KING HARRY

I was not angry since I came to France

Until this instant. Take a trumpet, herald;

Ride thou unto the horsemen on yon hill.

If they will fight with us, bid them come down,

Or void the field: they do offend our sight.

If they’ll do neither, we will come to them,

And make them skirr away as swift as stones

Enforced from the old Assyrian slings.

Besides, we’ll cut the throats of those we have,

And not a man of them that we shall take

Shall taste our mercy. Go and tell them so.

Enter Montjoy

EXETER

Here comes the herald of the French, my liege.

GLOUCESTER

His eyes are humbler than they used to be.

KING HARRY

How now, what means this, herald? Know‘st thou

not

That I have fined these bones of mine for ransom?

Com’st thou again for ransom?

MONTJOY No, great King.

I come to thee for charitable licence,

That we may wander o’er this bloody field

To book our dead and then to bury them,

To sort our nobles from our common men—

For many of our princes, woe the while,

Lie drowned and soaked in mercenary blood.

So do our vulgar drench their peasant limbs

In blood of princes, and our wounded steeds

Fret fetlock-deep in gore, and with wild rage

Jerk out their armed heels at their dead masters,

Killing them twice. O give us leave, great King,

To view the field in safety, and dispose

Of their dead bodies.

KING HARRY I tell thee truly, herald,

I know not if the day be ours or no,

For yet a many of your horsemen peer

And gallop o’er the field.

MONTJOY The day is yours.

KING HARRY

Praised be God, and not our strength, for it.

What is this castle called that stands hard by?

MONTJOY They call it Agincourt.

KING HARRY

Then call we this the field of Agincourt,

Fought on the day of Crispin Crispian.

FLUELLEN Your grandfather of famous memory, an’t please your majesty, and your great-uncle Edward the Plack Prince of Wales, as I have read in the chronicles, fought a most prave pattle here in France.

KING HARRY They did, Fluellen.

FLUELLEN Your majesty says very true. If your majesties is remembered of it, the Welshmen did good service in a garden where leeks did grow, wearing leeks in their Monmouth caps, which your majesty know to this hour is an honourable badge of the service. And I do believe your majesty takes no scorn to wear the leek upon Saint Tavy’s day.

KING HARRY

I wear it for a memorable honour,

For I am Welsh, you know, good countryman.

FLUELLEN All the water in Wye cannot wash your majesty’s Welsh plood out of your pody, I can tell you that. God pless it and preserve it, as long as it pleases his grace, and his majesty too.

KING HARRY Thanks, good my countryman.

FLUELLEN By Jeshu, I am your majesty’s countryman. I care not who know it, I will confess it to all the world. I need not to be ashamed of your majesty, praised be God, so long as your majesty is an honest man.

KING HARRY

God keep me so.

Enter Williams with a glove in his cap

Our heralds go with him.

Bring me just notice of the numbers dead On both our parts.

Exeunt Montjoy, ⌈Gower,⌉and an English herald

Call yonder fellow hither.

EXETER (to Williams) Soldier, you must come to the King.

KING HARRY Soldier, why wearest thou that glove in thy cap?

WILLIAM An’t please your majesty, ’tis the gage of one that I should fight withal, if he be alive.

KING HARRY An Englishman?

WILLIAMS An’t please your majesty, a rascal, that swaggered with me last night—who, if a live, and ever dare to challenge this glove, I have sworn to take him a box o’th’ ear; or if I can see my glove in his cap—which he swore, as he was a soldier, he would wear if a lived—I will strike it out soundly.

KING HARRY What think you, Captain Fluellen? Is it fit this soldier keep his oath?

FLUELLEN He is a craven and a villain else, an’t please your majesty, in my conscience.

KING HARRY It may be his enemy is a gentleman of great sort, quite from the answer of his degree.

FLUELLEN Though he be as good a gentleman as the devil is, as Lucifer and Beelzebub himself, it is necessary, look your grace, that he keep his vow and his oath. If he be perjured, see you now, his reputation is as arrant a villain and a Jack-sauce as ever his black shoe trod upon God’s ground and his earth, in my conscience, law.

KING HARRY Then keep thy vow, sirrah, when thou meetest the fellow.

WILLIAMS So I will, my liege, as I live.

KING HARRY Who serv’st thou under?

WILLIAM Under Captain Gower, my liege.

FLUELLEN Gower is a good captain, and is good knowledge and literatured in the wars.

KING HARRY Call him hither to me, soldier.

WILLIAM I will, my liege. Exit

KING HARRY (giving him Williams’s other glove) Here, Fluellen, wear thou this favour for me and stick it in thy cap. When Alençon and myself were down together, I plucked this glove from his helm. If any man challenge this, he is a friend to Alençon and an enemy to our person. If thou encounter any such, apprehend him, an thou dost me love.

FLUELLEN Your grace does me as great honours as can be desired in the hearts of his subjects. I would fain see the man that has but two legs that shall find himself aggriefed at this glove, that is all; but I would fain see it once. An’t please God of his grace, that I would see.

KING HARRY Know’st thou Gower?

FLUELLEN He is my dear friend, an’t please you.

KING HARRY Pray thee, go seek him and bring him to my tent. 165

FLUELLEN I will fetch him. Exit

KING HARRY

My lord of Warwick and my brother Gloucester,

Follow Fluellen closely at the heels.

The glove which I have given him for a favour

May haply purchase him a box o’th’ ear.

It is the soldier’s. I by bargain should

Wear it myself. Follow, good cousin Warwick.

If that the soldier strike him, as I judge

By his blunt bearing he will keep his word,

Some sudden mischief may arise of it,

For I do know Fluellen valiant

And touched with choler, hot as gunpowder,

And quickly will return an injury.

Follow, and see there be no harm between them.

Go you with me, uncle of Exeter.

Exeunt severally