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Modern English
Lord bishop, set the crown upon his head. BISHOP
Lord bishop, place the crown on his head. BISHOP
God save King Henry, of that name the sixth!
God save King Henry, the sixth of that name!
Now, governor of Paris, take your oath, That you elect no other king but him; Esteem none friends but such as are his friends, And none your foes but such as shall pretend Malicious practises against his state: This shall ye do, so help you righteous God!
Now, governor of Paris, take your oath, That you’ll choose no other king but him; Consider no one friends but those who support him, And no one your enemies except those who scheme Against his rule: You will do this, so help you God!
My gracious sovereign, as I rode from Calais, To haste unto your coronation, A letter was deliver’d to my hands, Writ to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.
My noble king, as I was riding from Calais, To hurry to your coronation, A letter was given to me, Written to your grace from the Duke of Burgundy.
Shame to the Duke of Burgundy and thee! I vow’d, base knight, when I did meet thee next, To tear the garter from thy craven’s leg,
Shame on the Duke of Burgundy and on you! I swore, cowardly knight, when I saw you next, To rip the garter off your craven’s leg,
Which I have done, because unworthily Thou wast installed in that high degree. Pardon me, princely Henry, and the rest This dastard, at the battle of Patay, When but in all I was six thousand strong And that the French were almost ten to one, Before we met or that a stroke was given, Like to a trusty squire did run away: In which assault we lost twelve hundred men; Myself and divers gentlemen beside Were there surprised and taken prisoners. Then judge, great lords, if I have done amiss; Or whether that such cowards ought to wear This ornament of knighthood, yea or no.
Which I’ve done, because you didn’t deserve To hold that high position. Forgive me, noble Henry, and the others, This coward, at the battle of Patay, When I was only six thousand strong And the French were almost ten to one, Before we met or struck a blow, Like a loyal servant, ran away: In that attack, we lost twelve hundred men; I and several gentlemen were taken prisoners. Now, great lords, judge if I did wrong; Or whether cowards like him should wear The honor of knighthood, yes or no.
To say the truth, this fact was infamous And ill beseeming any common man, Much more a knight, a captain and a leader.
To be honest, this deed was disgraceful And unworthy of any common man, Let alone a knight, a captain, or a leader.
When first this order was ordain’d, my lords, Knights of the garter were of noble birth, Valiant and virtuous, full of haughty courage, Such as were grown to credit by the wars; Not fearing death, nor shrinking for distress, But always resolute in most extremes. He then that is not furnish’d in this sort Doth but usurp the sacred name of knight, Profaning this most honourable order, And should, if I were worthy to be judge, Be quite degraded, like a hedge-born swain That doth presume to boast of gentle blood.
When this order was first created, my lords, Knights of the Garter came from noble birth, Brave and virtuous, full of noble courage, Those who earned respect through war; Not afraid of death, nor shrinking from hardship, Always steadfast in the toughest situations. Anyone who isn’t like this Is only pretending to be a knight, Disrespecting this honorable order, And should, if I were the judge, Be completely dishonored, like a low-born peasant Who dares to boast of noble blood.
Stain to thy countrymen, thou hear’st thy doom! Be packing, therefore, thou that wast a knight: Henceforth we banish thee, on pain of death.
Shame on you, traitor, you know your fate! Get out of here, you who once were a knight: From now on, we banish you, or face death.
And now, my lord protector, view the letter Sent from our uncle Duke of Burgundy.
And now, my lord protector, read the letter From our uncle, the Duke of Burgundy.
What means his grace, that he hath changed his style? No more but, plain and bluntly, ’To the king!’ Hath he forgot he is his sovereign? Or doth this churlish superscription Pretend some alteration in good will? What’s here?
What’s the meaning of his grace changing his title? Now it’s just, plain and simply, ’To the king!’ Has he forgotten he’s the ruler? Or does this rude address Suggest he’s pretending to change his loyalties? What’s going on here?
’I have, upon especial cause, Moved with compassion of my country’s wreck, Together with the pitiful complaints Of such as your oppression feeds upon, Forsaken your pernicious faction And join’d with Charles, the rightful King of France.’ O monstrous treachery! can this be so, That in alliance, amity and oaths, There should be found such false dissembling guile?
’I have, for a special reason, Moved by pity for my country’s ruin, And by the miserable complaints Of those who suffer because of your tyranny, Left your harmful faction And joined with Charles, the rightful King of France.’ Oh, this is horrible betrayal! Can it really be, That in a time of alliances, friendships, and oaths, There can be such deceit and trickery?
What! doth my uncle Burgundy revolt?
What! Is my uncle Burgundy rebelling?
He doth, my lord, and is become your foe.
Yes, my lord, he is, and he has become your enemy.
Is that the worst this letter doth contain?
Is that all this letter says?
It is the worst, and all, my lord, he writes.
That’s all, my lord—this is the full content of his letter.
Why, then, Lord Talbot there shall talk with him And give him chastisement for this abuse. How say you, my lord? are you not content?
Well then, Lord Talbot shall speak to him And punish him for this insult. What do you think, my lord? Are you not satisfied?
Content, my liege! yes, but that I am prevented, I should have begg’d I might have been employ’d.
Satisfied, my liege! Yes, but if I hadn’t been stopped, I would have begged to be the one sent on this task.
Then gather strength and march unto him straight: Let him perceive how ill we brook his treason And what offence it is to flout his friends.
Then gather your strength and march to him right away: Let him see how seriously we take his treason And how offensive it is to insult his allies.
I go, my lord, in heart desiring still You may behold confusion of your foes.
I’ll go, my lord, with a heart that still hopes You’ll witness the downfall of your enemies.
Grant me the combat, gracious sovereign.
Grant me the duel, gracious sovereign.
And me, my lord, grant me the combat too.
And me, my lord, grant me the duel as well.
This is my servant: hear him, noble prince.
This is my servant: listen to him, noble prince.
And this is mine: sweet Henry, favour him.
And this is mine: sweet Henry, support him.
Be patient, lords; and give them leave to speak. Say, gentlemen, what makes you thus exclaim? And wherefore crave you combat? or with whom?
Be patient, lords; and let them speak. Tell me, gentlemen, why are you shouting like this? And why do you want to fight? And with whom?
With him, my lord; for he hath done me wrong.
With him, my lord; because he has wronged me.
And I with him; for he hath done me wrong.
And I with him; because he has wronged me.
What is that wrong whereof you both complain? First let me know, and then I’ll answer you.
What’s the wrong you’re both complaining about? Let me know, and then I’ll answer you.
Crossing the sea from England into France, This fellow here, with envious carping tongue, Upbraided me about the rose I wear; Saying, the sanguine colour of the leaves Did represent my master’s blushing cheeks, When stubbornly he did repugn the truth About a certain question in the law Argued betwixt the Duke of York and him; With other vile and ignominious terms: In confutation of which rude reproach And in defence of my lord’s worthiness, I crave the benefit of law of arms.
While crossing the sea from England to France, This man here, with his spiteful and critical tongue, Criticized me about the rose I wear; Saying that the red color of the petals Represented my master’s blushing face, When he stubbornly rejected the truth About a legal question argued Between the Duke of York and him; And other vile and disgraceful things: To counter this rude insult And defend my lord’s honor, I ask for the right to a duel.
And that is my petition, noble lord: For though he seem with forged quaint conceit To set a gloss upon his bold intent, Yet know, my lord, I was provoked by him; And he first took exceptions at this badge, Pronouncing that the paleness of this flower Bewray’d the faintness of my master’s heart.
And that is my request, noble lord: For even though he tries to cover up his bold intent With clever, false reasoning, Know, my lord, that I was provoked by him; And he was the first to criticize this badge, Saying that the paleness of this flower Showed the weakness of my master’s heart.
Will not this malice, Somerset, be left?
Won’t this hatred, Somerset, ever end?
Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will out, Though ne’er so cunningly you smother it.
Your private grudge, my Lord of York, will come out, No matter how carefully you try to hide it.
Good Lord, what madness rules in brainsick men, When for so slight and frivolous a cause Such factious emulations shall arise! Good cousins both, of York and Somerset, Quiet yourselves, I pray, and be at peace.
Good Lord, what madness controls people’s minds, When such petty and unimportant things Cause such bitter arguments and rivalries to arise! Good cousins, both of York and Somerset, Calm yourselves, I beg you, and be at peace.
Let this dissension first be tried by fight, And then your highness shall command a peace.
Let this dispute be settled by a fight first, And then Your Highness can order peace.
The quarrel toucheth none but us alone; Betwixt ourselves let us decide it then.
This quarrel concerns only us; Let’s settle it between ourselves then.
There is my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
Here’s my pledge; accept it, Somerset.
Nay, let it rest where it began at first.
No, let it end where it started.
Confirm it so, mine honourable lord.
Confirm it, honorable lord.
Confirm it so! Confounded be your strife! And perish ye, with your audacious prate! Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed With this immodest clamorous outrage To trouble and disturb the king and us? And you, my lords, methinks you do not well To bear with their perverse objections; Much less to take occasion from their mouths To raise a mutiny betwixt yourselves: Let me persuade you take a better course.
Confirm it! May your conflict be cursed! And may you perish with your bold talk! Presumptuous fools, aren’t you ashamed To cause such noisy uproar And disturb the king and us? And you, my lords, I think you’re wrong To tolerate their stubborn objections; Much less to use their words As an excuse to stir up trouble between yourselves: Let me persuade you to take a better path.
It grieves his highness: good my lords, be friends.
It makes the king sad: please, my lords, be friends.
Come hither, you that would be combatants: Henceforth I charge you, as you love our favour, Quite to forget this quarrel and the cause. And you, my lords, remember where we are, In France, amongst a fickle wavering nation: If they perceive dissension in our looks And that within ourselves we disagree, How will their grudging stomachs be provoked To wilful disobedience, and rebel! Beside, what infamy will there arise, When foreign princes shall be certified That for a toy, a thing of no regard, King Henry’s peers and chief nobility Destroy’d themselves, and lost the realm of France! O, think upon the conquest of my father, My tender years, and let us not forego That for a trifle that was bought with blood Let me be umpire in this doubtful strife. I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
Come here, you who would fight: From now on I command you, as you value my favor, To completely forget this argument and its cause. And you, my lords, remember where we are, In France, among a fickle, changing people: If they see disagreement in our faces And realize that we disagree with each other, How will that make them more likely To rebel and disobey us? And what shame will it bring, When foreign rulers hear That over a trivial thing, something unimportant, King Henry’s nobles and chief leaders Destroyed themselves and lost the kingdom of France! Oh, think of my father’s victory, My young years, and let’s not give up What was earned through bloodshed, For something as small as this. Let me be the judge in this uncertain conflict. I see no reason, if I wear this rose,
That any one should therefore be suspicious I more incline to Somerset than York: Both are my kinsmen, and I love them both: As well they may upbraid me with my crown, Because, forsooth, the king of Scots is crown’d. But your discretions better can persuade Than I am able to instruct or teach: And therefore, as we hither came in peace, So let us still continue peace and love. Cousin of York, we institute your grace To be our regent in these parts of France: And, good my Lord of Somerset, unite Your troops of horsemen with his bands of foot; And, like true subjects, sons of your progenitors, Go cheerfully together and digest. Your angry choler on your enemies. Ourself, my lord protector and the rest After some respite will return to Calais; From thence to England; where I hope ere long To be presented, by your victories, With Charles, Alencon and that traitorous rout.
That anyone should suspect That I prefer Somerset over York: Both are my relatives, and I love them both: They might criticize me for wearing the crown, Just because, in fact, the King of Scots is crowned. But your judgment can persuade better Than I am able to teach or explain: And so, just as we came here in peace, Let us continue with peace and goodwill. Cousin of York, we appoint you To be our ruler here in this part of France: And, good Lord Somerset, join Your horsemen with his foot soldiers; And like true subjects, sons of your ancestors, Go together cheerfully and focus Your anger on your enemies. We, my Lord Protector and the rest, After a short break, will return to Calais; From there to England; where I hope soon To be welcomed, through your victories, With Charles, Alencon, and that traitorous group.
My Lord of York, I promise you, the king Prettily, methought, did play the orator.
My Lord of York, I must say, the king Was quite the orator, it seemed to me.
And so he did; but yet I like it not, In that he wears the badge of Somerset.
And so he was; but still I don’t like it, That he wears the badge of Somerset.
Tush, that was but his fancy, blame him not; I dare presume, sweet prince, he thought no harm.
Oh, that was just his personal choice, don’t blame him; I’m sure, sweet prince, he meant no harm.
An if I wist he did,--but let it rest; Other affairs must now be managed.
If I knew he did,--but let it go; Other matters need to be dealt with now.
Well didst thou, Richard, to suppress thy voice; For, had the passions of thy heart burst out, I fear we should have seen decipher’d there More rancorous spite, more furious raging broils, Than yet can be imagined or supposed. But howsoe’er, no simple man that sees This jarring discord of nobility, This shouldering of each other in the court, This factious bandying of their favourites, But that it doth presage some ill event. ’Tis much when sceptres are in children’s hands; But more when envy breeds unkind division; There comes the rain, there begins confusion.
Well done, Richard, for holding back your voice; For if the passions of your heart had shown, I fear we would have seen more open hatred, More furious fighting, than anyone could expect. But anyway, no wise person who sees This bickering among the nobles, This pushing against each other in court, This factional rivalry among their favorites, Can think it doesn’t point to some disaster. It’s bad enough when children hold the scepter; But worse when envy causes cruel division; That’s when the storm comes, that’s when the trouble starts.