The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (199 page)

going to and fro between

her quarters and my own,

posting sentries:

so how and why were they able to break in?

PUCELLE.

Question, my lords, no further of the case,

How or which way:  'tis sure they found some place

But weakly guarded, where the breach was made.

And now there rests no other shift but this;

To gather our soldiers, scatter'd and dispersed,

And lay new platforms to endamage them.

My Lords, it no longer matters

how or which way: it's certain they found someplace

that wasn't properly guarded, where they got in.

And now there's nothing else for us to do but this;

to gather up our scattered forces

and lay down some new plans to harm them.

[Alarum. Enter an English Soldier, crying

'A Talbot! a Talbot!'  They fly, leaving their

clothes behind.]

SOLDIER.

I 'll be so bold to take what they have left.

The cry of Talbot serves me for a sword;

For I have loaden me with many spoils,

Using no other weapon but his name.

I'll be so bold as to take what they've left behind.

The cry of “Talbot" is as good as a sword for me;

I have got myself plenty of plunder,

just using his name as a weapon.

[Exit.]

[Enter Talbot, Bedford, Burgundy, a Captain, and others.]

BEDFORD.

The day begins to break, and night is fled,

Whose pitchy mantle over-veil'd the earth.

Here sound retreat, and cease our hot pursuit.

Day begins to break, and night has gone,

removing its dark cloak from the Earth.

Sound the retreat, and end our hot pursuit.

[Retreat sounded.]

TALBOT.

Bring forth the body of old Salisbury,

And here advance it in the market-place,

The middle centre of this cursed town.

Now have I paid my vow unto his soul;

For every drop of blood was drawn from him

There hath at least five Frenchmen died to-night.

And that hereafter ages may behold

What ruin happen'd in revenge of him,

Within their chiefest temple I 'll erect

A tomb, wherein his corpse shall be interr'd;

Upon the which, that every one may read,

Shall be engraved the sack of Orleans,

The treacherous manner of his mournful death

And what a terror he had been to France.

But, lords, in all our bloody massacre,

I muse we met not with the Dauphin's grace,

His new-come champion, virtuous Joan of Arc,

Nor any of his false confederates.

Bring out the body of old Salisbury,

bring him to the marketplace,

the very centre of this cursed town.

I have now kept my promise to his spirit;

for every drop of blood he shed

at least five Frenchmen died tonight.

And so future generations can see

what destruction there was for his revenge,

I will build him a tomb

inside their greatest church,

and on it, for everyone to read,

I shall have engraved the news of the sack of Orleans,

the treacherous manner of his sad death,

and the terror that he caused to France.

But, lords, in all this bloody massacre,

I'm thinking that we haven't yet come across the Dauphin's muse,

his newly arrived champion, good Joan of Arc,

or any of his false accomplices.

BEDFORD.

'Tis thought, Lord Talbot, when the fight began,

Rous'd on the sudden from their drowsy beds,

They did amongst the troops of armed men

Leap o'er the walls for refuge in the field.

Lord Talbot, it’s thought that when the fight began,

having been started from their sleepy beds,

they jumped over the walls with their soldiers,

looking for safety in the field.

BURGUNDY.

Myself, as far as I could well discern

For smoke and dusky vapors of the night,

Am sure I scared the Dauphin and his trull,

When arm in arm they both came swiftly running,

Like to a pair of loving turtle-doves

That could not live asunder day or night.

After that things are set in order here,

We'll follow them with all the power we have.

As far as I could make out

through the smoke and the dark of the night,

I'm sure I frightened the Dauphin and his tart,

when they came swiftly running arm in arm

like a pair of loving turtledoves

who can’t be separated day or night.

After we get everything in order here,

we'll follow them with all our forces.

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.

All hail, my lords! Which of this princely train

Call ye the warlike Talbot, for his acts

So much applauded through the realm of France?

Greetings, my lords! Who of this princely group

is the warlike Talbot, who is so applauded

for his actions throughout France?

TALBOT.

Here is the Talbot:  who would speak with him?

I'm Talbot: who wants to speak to him?

MESSENGER.

The virtuous lady, Countess of Auvergne,

With modesty admiring thy renown,

By me entreats, great lord, thou wouldst vouchsafe

To visit her poor castle where she lies,

That she may boast she hath beheld the man

Whose glory fills the world with loud report.

The good lady, Countess of Auvergne,

who has been modestly admiring your fame,

begs you through me, great Lord, to agree

to visit her poor castle where she is staying,

so that she can boast that she has seen the man

whose glory is so well spoken of throughout the world.

BURGUNDY.

Is it even so? Nay, then I see our wars

Will turn into a peaceful comic sport,

When ladies crave to be encount'red with.

You may not, my lord, despise her gentle suit.

Is that so? Well, I see that our wars

will become a peaceful comic sport,

with ladies desperate to meet us.

My lord, you must not reject her polite request.

TALBOT.

Ne'er trust me then; for when a world of men

Could not prevail with all their oratory,

Yet hath a woman's kindness over-ruled:

And therefore tell her I return great thanks,

And in submission will attend on her.

Will not your honors bear me company?

You can trust me not to; when the whole world of men

couldn't persuade with their speechmaking,

a woman's politeness can still win:

and so tell her I give my thanks,

and I will humbly agree to visit her.

Will your honours come with me?

BEDFORD.

No, truly; it is more than manners will:

And I have heard it said, unbidden guests

Are often welcomest when they are gone.

Certainly not; that would be bad manners:

I've heard it said that uninvited guests

are often most welcome when they go.

TALBOT.

Well then, alone, since there 's no remedy,

I mean to prove this lady's courtesy.

Come hither, Captain. [Whispers] You perceive my mind?

Well then I'll go alone, if there is no alternative,

to test this lady's hospitality.

Come here, captain. [Whispers] You know what I'm thinking?

CAPTAIN.

I do, my lord, and mean accordingly.

I do, my lord, and I'll do as you say.

[Exeunt.]

[Enter the Countess and her Porter.]

COUNTESS.

Porter, remember what I gave in charge;

And when you have done so, bring the keys to me.

Porter, remember my orders;

when you've carried them out, bring me the keys.

PORTER.

Madam, I will.

I will, madam.

[Exit.]

COUNTESS.

The plot is laid:  if all things fall out right,

I shall as famous be by this exploit

As Scythian Tomyris by Cyrus' death.

Great is the rumor of this dreadful knight,

And his achievements of no less account:

Fain would mine eyes be witness with mine ears,

To give their censure of these rare reports.

The plot is set: if everything works out,

I shall be as famous for this exploit

as the Scythian Tomyris was for Cyrus' death.

This fearsome knight has a great reputation,

and it is matched by his achievements:

I want my eyes and ears to be witnesses,

to give their judgement on these great reports.

[Enter Messenger and Talbot.]

MESSENGER.

Madam,

according as your ladyship desired,

By message craved, so is Lord Talbot come.

Madam,

as your ladyship desired,

as you asked in your message, Lord Talbot has come.

COUNTESS.

And he is welcome. What! is this the man?