Original
Modern English
Mars his true moving, even as in the heavens So in the earth, to this day is not known: Late did he shine upon the English side; Now we are victors; upon us he smiles. What towns of any moment but we have? At pleasure here we lie near Orleans; Otherwhiles the famish’d English, like pale ghosts, Faintly besiege us one hour in a month.
Mars’ true influence, just like in the heavens, Is still not fully understood here on earth: He shone on the English side not long ago; But now we’re the victors; he’s smiling on us. What towns of any importance haven’t we taken? We’re camped here near Orleans at our leisure; Occasionally, the starving English, like pale ghosts, Barely besiege us for an hour each month.
They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: Either they must be dieted like mules And have their provender tied to their mouths Or piteous they will look, like drowned mice.
They want their porridge and their fat bull-beeves: They either have to be fed like mules, And have their food tied to their mouths, Or they’ll look pathetic, like drowned mice.
Let’s raise the siege: why live we idly here? Talbot is taken, whom we wont to fear: Remaineth none but mad-brain’d Salisbury; And he may well in fretting spend his gall, Nor men nor money hath he to make war.
Let’s raise the siege: why are we sitting here doing nothing? Talbot is captured, the one we used to fear: Only mad-brained Salisbury is left; And he’ll just waste his energy getting upset, He has neither men nor money to fight a war.
Sound, sound alarum! we will rush on them. Now for the honour of the forlorn French! Him I forgive my death that killeth me When he sees me go back one foot or fly.
Sound the alarm! We will attack them. Now, for the honor of the doomed French! I forgive the man who kills me If he sees me turn back one step or run.
Who ever saw the like? what men have I! Dogs! cowards! dastards! I would ne’er have fled, But that they left me ’midst my enemies.
Who has ever seen anything like this? What kind of men are these? Dogs! Cowards! Fools! I would never have run, If they hadn’t left me alone in the middle of my enemies.
Salisbury is a desperate homicide; He fighteth as one weary of his life. The other lords, like lions wanting food, Do rush upon us as their hungry prey.
Salisbury is a desperate killer; He fights as if he’s tired of living. The other lords, like hungry lions, Rush at us as if we’re their prey.
Froissart, a countryman of ours, records, England all Olivers and Rowlands bred, During the time Edward the Third did reign. More truly now may this be verified; For none but Samsons and Goliases It sendeth forth to skirmish. One to ten! Lean, raw-boned rascals! who would e’er suppose They had such courage and audacity?
Froissart, a fellow countryman, writes, That England bred nothing but Olivers and Rowlands, While Edward the Third was king. Now this seems truer than ever; For now they only send out Samsons and Goliaths To fight. One against ten! Lean, scrawny rascals! Who would ever think They had such courage and boldness?
Let’s leave this town; for they are hare-brain’d slaves, And hunger will enforce them to be more eager: Of old I know them; rather with their teeth The walls they’ll tear down than forsake the siege.
Let’s leave this town; they are reckless slaves, And hunger will drive them to be even more desperate: I know them well; they’d rather tear down the walls With their teeth than give up the siege.
I think, by some odd gimmors or device Their arms are set like clocks, stiff to strike on; Else ne’er could they hold out so as they do. By my consent, we’ll even let them alone.
I think, by some strange trick or mechanism, Their weapons are set up like clocks, stiff and ready to strike; Otherwise they could never hold out as they do. I say we leave them alone.
Be it so.
Fine, let’s do that.
Where’s the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
Where’s the Prince Dauphin? I have news for him.
Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.
Bastard of Orleans, thrice welcome to us.
Methinks your looks are sad, your cheer appall’d: Hath the late overthrow wrought this offence? Be not dismay’d, for succor is at hand: A holy maid hither with me I bring, Which by a vision sent to her from heaven Ordained is to raise this tedious siege And drive the English forth the bounds of France. The spirit of deep prophecy she hath, Exceeding the nine sibyls of old Rome: What’s past and what’s to come she can descry. Speak, shall I call her in? Believe my words, For they are certain and unfallible.
You all look sad, your faces pale: Has the recent defeat caused this distress? Don’t be discouraged, help is on the way: I bring with me a holy maid, Whom a vision from heaven has chosen To lift this long siege And drive the English out of France. She has a spirit of deep prophecy, Greater than the nine sibyls of ancient Rome: She can see what’s past and what’s to come. Shall I call her in? Believe me, For my words are certain and unbreakable.
Go, call her in.
Go, bring her in.
But first, to try her skill, Reignier, stand thou as Dauphin in my place: Question her proudly; let thy looks be stern: By this means shall we sound what skill she hath.
But first, to test her ability, Reignier, you stand as the Dauphin in my place: Question her boldly; let your expression be serious: This way we’ll discover what skills she has.
Fair maid, is’t thou wilt do these wondrous feats?
Fair maid, is it you who will do these amazing things?
Reignier, is’t thou that thinkest to beguile me? Where is the Dauphin? Come, come from behind; I know thee well, though never seen before. Be not amazed, there’s nothing hid from me: In private will I talk with thee apart. Stand back, you lords, and give us leave awhile.
Reignier, is it you who think you can deceive me? Where is the Dauphin? Come, come out from behind; I know you well, even though I’ve never seen you before. Don’t be surprised, there’s nothing hidden from me: I’ll speak to you privately, apart from the others. Step back, you lords, and give us a moment.
She takes upon her bravely at first dash.
She’s acting quite bravely right from the start.
Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd’s daughter, My wit untrain’d in any kind of art. Heaven and our Lady gracious hath it pleased To shine on my contemptible estate: Lo, whilst I waited on my tender lambs, And to sun’s parching heat display’d my cheeks, God’s mother deigned to appear to me And in a vision full of majesty Will’d me to leave my base vocation And free my country from calamity: Her aid she promised and assured success: In complete glory she reveal’d herself; And, whereas I was black and swart before, With those clear rays which she infused on me That beauty am I bless’d with which you see. Ask me what question thou canst possible, And I will answer unpremeditated: My courage try by combat, if thou darest, And thou shalt find that I exceed my sex. Resolve on this, thou shalt be fortunate, If thou receive me for thy warlike mate.
Dauphin, I am by birth a shepherd’s daughter, My mind untrained in any kind of skill. Heaven and Our Lady have kindly chosen To shine on my humble station: Look, while I tended my little lambs, And exposed my cheeks to the scorching sun, God’s mother chose to appear to me In a vision full of majesty And told me to leave my lowly life And free my country from suffering: She promised me help and guaranteed success: In full glory, she revealed herself; And where I was dark and swarthy before, With those bright rays she poured on me I am blessed with the beauty you see. Ask me anything, and I’ll answer without preparation: Test my courage by combat, if you dare, And you’ll find I exceed what’s expected of my sex. Decide this, you’ll be lucky, If you take me as your warlike companion.
Thou hast astonish’d me with thy high terms: Only this proof I’ll of thy valour make, In single combat thou shalt buckle with me, And if thou vanquishest, thy words are true; Otherwise I renounce all confidence.
You’ve amazed me with your bold words: I’ll make this one test of your bravery, In single combat, you’ll fight me, And if you win, your words are true; Otherwise, I’ll have no more faith in you.
I am prepared: here is my keen-edged sword, Deck’d with five flower-de-luces on each side; The which at Touraine, in Saint Katharine’s churchyard, Out of a great deal of old iron I chose forth.
I’m ready: here is my sharp-edged sword, Decorated with five lilies on each side; Which, at Tours, in Saint Catherine’s churchyard, I chose out of a large pile of old iron.
Then come, o’ God’s name; I fear no woman.
Then come, in God’s name; I’m not afraid of any woman.
And while I live, I’ll ne’er fly from a man.
And as long as I live, I’ll never run from a man.
Stay, stay thy hands! thou art an Amazon And fightest with the sword of Deborah.
Stop, stop! You’re like an Amazon And fight with the sword of Deborah.
Christ’s mother helps me, else I were too weak.
Christ’s mother helps me, or I’d be too weak.
Whoe’er helps thee, ’tis thou that must help me: Impatiently I burn with thy desire; My heart and hands thou hast at once subdued. Excellent Pucelle, if thy name be so, Let me thy servant and not sovereign be: ’Tis the French Dauphin sueth to thee thus.
Whoever helps you, it’s you who must help me: I burn with desire for you; You’ve conquered both my heart and hands. Excellent Pucelle, if that’s your name, Let me be your servant, not your ruler: It’s the French Dauphin who begs you this.
I must not yield to any rites of love, For my profession’s sacred from above: When I have chased all thy foes from hence, Then will I think upon a recompense.
I can’t yield to any romantic advances, For my calling is sacred from above: Once I’ve driven all your enemies away, Then I’ll think about a reward.
Meantime look gracious on thy prostrate thrall.
In the meantime, look kindly on your kneeling servant.
My lord, methinks, is very long in talk.
My lord, I think you’re taking too long to speak.
Doubtless he shrives this woman to her smock; Else ne’er could he so long protract his speech.
Surely he’s hearing this woman confess her sins; Otherwise, he couldn’t stretch out his speech for so long.
Shall we disturb him, since he keeps no mean?
Should we interrupt him, since he’s not making any progress?
He may mean more than we poor men do know: These women are shrewd tempters with their tongues.
He may have a bigger plan than we poor men can understand: These women are skilled at using their words to tempt.
My lord, where are you? what devise you on? Shall we give over Orleans, or no?
My lord, where are you? What are you planning? Shall we give up on Orleans, or not?
Why, no, I say, distrustful recreants! Fight till the last gasp; I will be your guard.
No, I say, you cowardly traitors! Fight until the very end; I will be your protector.
What she says I’ll confirm: we’ll fight it out.
I’ll support whatever she says: we’ll fight it through.
Assign’d am I to be the English scourge. This night the siege assuredly I’ll raise: Expect Saint Martin’s summer, halcyon days, Since I have entered into these wars. Glory is like a circle in the water, Which never ceaseth to enlarge itself Till by broad spreading it disperse to nought. With Henry’s death the English circle ends; Dispersed are the glories it included. Now am I like that proud insulting ship Which Caesar and his fortune bare at once.
I’ve been chosen to be the punishment for the English. Tonight, I’ll certainly lift the siege: Expect calm, peaceful days, like Saint Martin’s summer, Since I’ve joined these wars. Glory is like a circle in water, It never stops growing bigger Until it spreads out and vanishes. With Henry’s death, the English glory ends; All the glory it held is now scattered. Now I’m like that proud, victorious ship That Caesar and his fate sailed on together.
Was Mahomet inspired with a dove? Thou with an eagle art inspired then. Helen, the mother of great Constantine, Nor yet Saint Philip’s daughters, were like thee. Bright star of Venus, fall’n down on the earth, How may I reverently worship thee enough?
Was Mohammed inspired by a dove? Then you must have been inspired by an eagle. Helen, mother of the great Constantine, And even Saint Philip’s daughters, were not like you. Bright star of Venus, fallen to the earth, How can I ever worship you enough?
Leave off delays, and let us raise the siege.
Stop with the delays, and let’s lift the siege.
Woman, do what thou canst to save our honours; Drive them from Orleans and be immortalized.
Woman, do what you can to save our honor; Drive the English out of Orleans and you’ll be immortalized.
Presently we’ll try: come, let’s away about it: No prophet will I trust, if she prove false.
We’ll try it right away: come on, let’s get to work: I won’t trust any prophet if she turns out to be false.