Original
Modern English
Are not the speedy scouts return’d again, That dogg’d the mighty army of the Dauphin?
Haven’t the scouts returned yet, The ones who tracked the mighty army of the Dauphin?
They are return’d, my lord, and give it out That he is march’d to Bourdeaux with his power, To fight with Talbot: as he march’d along, By your espials were discovered Two mightier troops than that the Dauphin led, Which join’d with him and made their march for Bourdeaux.
They have returned, my lord, and reported That he’s marched to Bordeaux with his army, To fight Talbot: as he marched along, Your spies discovered Two larger troops than the one the Dauphin led, Which joined him and marched toward Bordeaux.
A plague upon that villain Somerset, That thus delays my promised supply Of horsemen, that were levied for this siege! Renowned Talbot doth expect my aid, And I am lowted by a traitor villain And cannot help the noble chevalier: God comfort him in this necessity! If he miscarry, farewell wars in France.
A curse on that villain Somerset, For delaying my promised supply Of horsemen, who were raised for this siege! Famous Talbot expects my help, And I am held up by a traitor, And can’t assist the noble knight: God comfort him in his time of need! If he fails, goodbye to the war in France.
Thou princely leader of our English strength, Never so needful on the earth of France, Spur to the rescue of the noble Talbot, Who now is girdled with a waist of iron And hemm’d about with grim destruction: To Bourdeaux, warlike duke! to Bourdeaux, York! Else, farewell Talbot, France, and England’s honour.
You royal leader of our English strength, Never was your help more needed in the land of France, Hurry to the rescue of the noble Talbot, Who is now surrounded by a ring of steel And trapped by certain death: To Bordeaux, mighty duke! To Bordeaux, York! Otherwise, farewell to Talbot, France, and England’s honor.
O God, that Somerset, who in proud heart Doth stop my cornets, were in Talbot’s place! So should we save a valiant gentleman By forfeiting a traitor and a coward. Mad ire and wrathful fury makes me weep, That thus we die, while remiss traitors sleep.
Oh God, if only Somerset, who with his pride Stops my trumpets, were in Talbot’s place! Then we could save a brave man By losing a traitor and a coward. My anger and bitter rage make me weep, That we die while traitors rest.
O, send some succor to the distress’d lord!
Oh, send some help to the distressed lord!
He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word; We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; All ’long of this vile traitor Somerset.
He dies, we lose; I break my warlike word; If he dies, we lose; I’ve failed to keep my promise to fight; We mourn, France smiles; we lose, they daily get; We grieve, France rejoices; we lose, and they gain more every day; All ’long of this vile traitor Somerset. All because of this disgusting traitor Somerset.
Then God take mercy on brave Talbot’s soul; And on his son young John, who two hours since I met in travel toward his warlike father! This seven years did not Talbot see his son; And now they meet where both their lives are done.
Then God take mercy on brave Talbot’s soul; Then may God have mercy on the brave Talbot’s soul; And on his son young John, who two hours since And on his son, young John, whom I met just two hours ago I met in travel toward his warlike father! On his way to join his warrior father! This seven years did not Talbot see his son; Talbot hadn’t seen his son for seven years; And now they meet where both their lives are done. And now they meet, where both their lives are over.
Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have To bid his young son welcome to his grave? Away! vexation almost stops my breath, That sunder’d friends greet in the hour of death. Lucy, farewell; no more my fortune can, But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, ’Long all of Somerset and his delay.
Alas, what joy shall noble Talbot have Alas, what joy can noble Talbot have To bid his young son welcome to his grave? In welcoming his young son to his grave? Away! vexation almost stops my breath, Away! I’m so upset I can barely breathe, That sunder’d friends greet in the hour of death. That estranged friends meet only in death. Lucy, farewell; no more my fortune can, Lucy, goodbye; my fate can do no more, But curse the cause I cannot aid the man. Except curse the reason I can’t help the man. Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours, are won away, Maine, Blois, Poictiers, and Tours have been lost, ’Long all of Somerset and his delay. All because of Somerset and his delays.
Thus, while the vulture of sedition Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror, That ever living man of memory, Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross, Lives, honours, lands and all hurry to loss.
Thus, while the vulture of sedition So, while the vulture of rebellion Feeds in the bosom of such great commanders, Feasts in the hearts of such great leaders, Sleeping neglection doth betray to loss Careless neglect leads to the loss The conquest of our scarce cold conqueror, Of the barely remembered conqueror, That ever living man of memory, That ever-living man in history, Henry the Fifth: whiles they each other cross, Henry the Fifth: while they fight amongst themselves, Lives, honours, lands and all hurry to loss. Lives, honors, lands, and everything rushes to ruin.