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The Drama, The Intrigue, The Kings!
Shakespeare was a master at bringing the tumultuous world of royal courts to life, weaving tales rife with gossip, power plays, and the vibrant heartbeat of history. While he transformed the past into unforgettable drama, today's readers might find his histories a challenging terrain.
Enter BookCaps: your bridge to the Bard's timeless tales. Dive into this refreshing modern translation of "Henry VI: Part One" that rekindles the play's fiery spirit for the contemporary reader. Whether Shakespeare's archaic language has deterred you in the past or you're a fervent fan seeking a fresh perspective, this rendition promises to reinvigorate your experience.
Not only will you journey through the modernized version, but the authentic charm of Shakespeare's original prose also awaits you, meticulously presented side by side with its contemporary counterpart. This dual presentation ensures both purists and newcomers can find their perfect entry point to the narrative.
Venture back to a time of kings, intrigue, and history painted with passion. With BookCaps as your guide, Shakespeare's "Henry VI: Part One" transforms from a historical play into a riveting story that resonates today. Dive in and relive the drama!
PURCHASE A COPY OF HENRY IV, PART ONE IN PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENGLISH NOW!
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EXCERPT FROM HENRY IV, PART ONE IN PLAIN AND SIMPLE ENGLISH
Act I
SCENE I
Westminster Abbey.
Dead March. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended
on
by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloucester,
Protector; the Duke of Exeter, the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of
Winchester, Heralds, &c.
BEDFORD.
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
Comets, importing change of times and states,
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
That have consented unto Henry's death!
King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
Hang the skies with black, day give way to night!
Comets, showing the change of times and nations,
stream your crystal tails across the sky,
and with them whip the horrid rebellious stars
which agreed to let Henry die!
King Henry the Fifth, too great for a long life!
England never lost such a valuable king.
GLOUCESTER.
England ne'er had a king until his time.
Virtue he had, deserving to command:
His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:
His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
More dazzled and drove back his enemies
Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.
England never had a true king until him.
He had goodness, he deserved to lead:
when he waved his sword it blinded men with its reflection:
his arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
his sparkling eyes, full of angry fire,
drove back and dazzled his enemies
more than the midday sun shining straight in their faces.
What can I say? There are no words to express his great deeds:
he never moved without conquering.
EXETER.
We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?
Henry is dead and never shall revive:
Upon a wooden coffin we attend,
And death's dishonourable victory
We with our stately presence glorify,
Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him
By magic verses have contriv'd his end?
We mourn by wearing black: why do we not mourn by shedding blood?
Henry is dead and will never come back:
we are waiting on a wooden coffin,
and death's dishonourable victory
is being glorified by our stately presence,
like prisoners tied to a chariot in a triumph.
What! Are we going to think that unlucky stars
overthrew the glory of our king?
Or do we believe that the cunning French
magicians and sorcerers, through fear of him,
cast magic spells to bring about his death?
WINCHESTER.
He was a king bless'd of the King of kings;
Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day
So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.
He was a king blessed by Jesus;
the French won't find Judgement Day
as terrible as facing him.
He fought his battles for God:
the prayers of the church ensured his success.
GLOUCESTER.
The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,
His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
None do you like but an effeminate prince,
Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.
The church! Where are they? If the churchmen hadn't prayed,
he would not have died so soon:
all you want is a girlish prince,
whom you can dominate like a schoolboy.
WINCHESTER.
Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art Protector,
And lookest to command the Prince and realm.
Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
More than God or religious churchmen may.
Gloucester, whatever we want, you are Regent,
and you have command over the Prince and the country.
Your wife is arrogant; she's the one who dominates you,
more than God or religious churchmen can.
GLOUCESTER.
Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh,
And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,
Except it be to pray against thy foes.
Do not speak of religion, for you love worldly things,
and you never go to church at any time of year,
except to say prayers against your enemies.
BEDFORD.
Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:
Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms;
Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.
Posterity, await for wretched years,
When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,
Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
And none but women left to wail the dead.
Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
A far more glorious star thy soul will make
Than Julius Caesar or bright--
Stop these arguments and be peaceful:
let's go to the altar: heralds, attend us:
instead of gold, will make an offering of our weapons,
as we have no use for them now, now that Henry is dead.
We can expect the future to be wretched,
and babies shall drink the tears of their mothers,
the island shall feed on salt tears alone,
and there will be none but women left to mourn the dead.
Henry the Fifth, I summon up your ghost:
make this country prosperous, keep it from civil war,
fight the influence of the unlucky planets!
Your soul will make far more glorious start
than Julius Caesar, or bright–
[Enter a Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
My honourable lords, health to you all!
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:
Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.
My honourable lords, good health!
I bring you sad news from France,
of loss, slaughter and frustration:
Guienne, Champagne, Reims, Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poitiers, they have all been lost.
BEDFORD.
What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
Speak softly; or the loss of those great towns
Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
What are you saying, man, in front of the body of dead Henry?
Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
will make him burst out of his coffin and rise from the dead.
GLOUCESTER.
Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?
If Henry were recall'd to life again,
These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.
Is Paris lost? Has Rouen been surrendered?
If Henry were called back to life,
this news would make him give up the ghost again.
EXETER.
How were they lost? What treachery was us'd?
How were they lost? What treachery was there?
MESSENGER.
No treachery; but want of men and money.
Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
That here you maintain several factions,
And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of your generals:
One would have lingering wars with little cost;
Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
A third thinks, without expense at all,
By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
Awake, awake, English nobility!
Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot:
Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
Of England's coat one half is cut away.
There was no treachery, there was a lack of men and money.
The soldiers are saying that
there are several different parties here at court,
and when the battles should be swiftly fought,
you are arguing over details:
one wants long wars with little expense;
another wants to act swiftly, but doesn't have the means;
a third thinks that peace can be got without
any expense, just through using cunning fair words.
Wake up, English noblemen!
Don't let laziness spoil your newly won honours:
the fleur-de-lis have been cropped from your coat of arms;
you have lost half of it.
EXETER.
Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
If this funeral was not making us cry,
this news would start us.
BEDFORD.
Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
To weep their intermissive miseries.
This is my business; I am Regent of France.
Bring me my chainmail. I shall fight for France.
Enough of these disgraceful mourning clothes!
I'll give the French wounds instead of eyes,
through which they will cry for their regular miseries.
[Enter to them another Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.
France is revolted from the English quite,
Except some petty towns of no import:
The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;
The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.
Lords, read these letters full of bad news.
France has completely revolted against England,
except for some little towns of no importance:
the Dauphin Charles has been crowned King at Rheims;
the Bastard of Orleans has joined with him;
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, is on his side;
the Duke of Alencon is hastening to join him.
EXETER.
The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?
The Dauphin crowned as King! Everyone rushes to him!
Oh, how shall we escape the shame of this?
GLOUCESTER.
We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
We will not flee, except towards our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if you won't agree, I'll do the fighting.
BEDFORD.
Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is overrun.
Gloucester, why do you doubt my willingness?
I have already planned how to raise an army,
which in my mind has already conquered France.
[Enter another Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
I must inform you of a dismal fight
Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
My gracious lords, to add to your tears,
with which you now soak King Henry's hearse,
I must tell you about a terrible fight
between the brave Lord Talbot and the French.
SCENE I
Westminster Abbey.
Dead March. Enter the funeral of King Henry the Fifth, attended
on
by the Duke of Bedford, Regent of France; the Duke of Gloucester,
Protector; the Duke of Exeter, the Earl of Warwick, the Bishop of
Winchester, Heralds, &c.
BEDFORD.
Hung be the heavens with black, yield day to night!
Comets, importing change of times and states,
Brandish your crystal tresses in the sky,
And with them scourge the bad revolting stars
That have consented unto Henry's death!
King Henry the Fifth, too famous to live long!
England ne'er lost a king of so much worth.
Hang the skies with black, day give way to night!
Comets, showing the change of times and nations,
stream your crystal tails across the sky,
and with them whip the horrid rebellious stars
which agreed to let Henry die!
King Henry the Fifth, too great for a long life!
England never lost such a valuable king.
GLOUCESTER.
England ne'er had a king until his time.
Virtue he had, deserving to command:
His brandish'd sword did blind men with his beams:
His arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
His sparkling eyes, replete with wrathful fire,
More dazzled and drove back his enemies
Than mid-day sun fierce bent against their faces.
What should I say? his deeds exceed all speech:
He ne'er lift up his hand but conquered.
England never had a true king until him.
He had goodness, he deserved to lead:
when he waved his sword it blinded men with its reflection:
his arms spread wider than a dragon's wings;
his sparkling eyes, full of angry fire,
drove back and dazzled his enemies
more than the midday sun shining straight in their faces.
What can I say? There are no words to express his great deeds:
he never moved without conquering.
EXETER.
We mourn in black: why mourn we not in blood?
Henry is dead and never shall revive:
Upon a wooden coffin we attend,
And death's dishonourable victory
We with our stately presence glorify,
Like captives bound to a triumphant car.
What! shall we curse the planets of mishap
That plotted thus our glory's overthrow?
Or shall we think the subtle-witted French
Conjurers and sorcerers, that afraid of him
By magic verses have contriv'd his end?
We mourn by wearing black: why do we not mourn by shedding blood?
Henry is dead and will never come back:
we are waiting on a wooden coffin,
and death's dishonourable victory
is being glorified by our stately presence,
like prisoners tied to a chariot in a triumph.
What! Are we going to think that unlucky stars
overthrew the glory of our king?
Or do we believe that the cunning French
magicians and sorcerers, through fear of him,
cast magic spells to bring about his death?
WINCHESTER.
He was a king bless'd of the King of kings;
Unto the French the dreadful judgment-day
So dreadful will not be as was his sight.
The battles of the Lord of hosts he fought:
The Church's prayers made him so prosperous.
He was a king blessed by Jesus;
the French won't find Judgement Day
as terrible as facing him.
He fought his battles for God:
the prayers of the church ensured his success.
GLOUCESTER.
The church! where is it? Had not churchmen pray'd,
His thread of life had not so soon decay'd:
None do you like but an effeminate prince,
Whom, like a school-boy, you may over-awe.
The church! Where are they? If the churchmen hadn't prayed,
he would not have died so soon:
all you want is a girlish prince,
whom you can dominate like a schoolboy.
WINCHESTER.
Gloucester, whate'er we like, thou art Protector,
And lookest to command the Prince and realm.
Thy wife is proud; she holdeth thee in awe,
More than God or religious churchmen may.
Gloucester, whatever we want, you are Regent,
and you have command over the Prince and the country.
Your wife is arrogant; she's the one who dominates you,
more than God or religious churchmen can.
GLOUCESTER.
Name not religion, for thou lov'st the flesh,
And ne'er throughout the year to church thou go'st,
Except it be to pray against thy foes.
Do not speak of religion, for you love worldly things,
and you never go to church at any time of year,
except to say prayers against your enemies.
BEDFORD.
Cease, cease these jars and rest your minds in peace:
Let's to the altar: heralds, wait on us:
Instead of gold, we'll offer up our arms;
Since arms avail not, now that Henry's dead.
Posterity, await for wretched years,
When at their mothers' moist eyes babes shall suck,
Our isle be made a nourish of salt tears,
And none but women left to wail the dead.
Henry the Fifth, thy ghost I invocate:
Prosper this realm, keep it from civil broils,
Combat with adverse planets in the heavens!
A far more glorious star thy soul will make
Than Julius Caesar or bright--
Stop these arguments and be peaceful:
let's go to the altar: heralds, attend us:
instead of gold, will make an offering of our weapons,
as we have no use for them now, now that Henry is dead.
We can expect the future to be wretched,
and babies shall drink the tears of their mothers,
the island shall feed on salt tears alone,
and there will be none but women left to mourn the dead.
Henry the Fifth, I summon up your ghost:
make this country prosperous, keep it from civil war,
fight the influence of the unlucky planets!
Your soul will make far more glorious start
than Julius Caesar, or bright–
[Enter a Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
My honourable lords, health to you all!
Sad tidings bring I to you out of France,
Of loss, of slaughter, and discomfiture:
Guienne, Champagne, Rheims, Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poictiers, are all quite lost.
My honourable lords, good health!
I bring you sad news from France,
of loss, slaughter and frustration:
Guienne, Champagne, Reims, Orleans,
Paris, Guysors, Poitiers, they have all been lost.
BEDFORD.
What say'st thou, man, before dead Henry's corse?
Speak softly; or the loss of those great towns
Will make him burst his lead and rise from death.
What are you saying, man, in front of the body of dead Henry?
Speak softly, or the loss of those great towns
will make him burst out of his coffin and rise from the dead.
GLOUCESTER.
Is Paris lost? Is Rouen yielded up?
If Henry were recall'd to life again,
These news would cause him once more yield the ghost.
Is Paris lost? Has Rouen been surrendered?
If Henry were called back to life,
this news would make him give up the ghost again.
EXETER.
How were they lost? What treachery was us'd?
How were they lost? What treachery was there?
MESSENGER.
No treachery; but want of men and money.
Amongst the soldiers this is muttered,
That here you maintain several factions,
And whilst a field should be dispatch'd and fought,
You are disputing of your generals:
One would have lingering wars with little cost;
Another would fly swift, but wanteth wings;
A third thinks, without expense at all,
By guileful fair words peace may be obtain'd.
Awake, awake, English nobility!
Let not sloth dim your honours new-begot:
Cropp'd are the flower-de-luces in your arms;
Of England's coat one half is cut away.
There was no treachery, there was a lack of men and money.
The soldiers are saying that
there are several different parties here at court,
and when the battles should be swiftly fought,
you are arguing over details:
one wants long wars with little expense;
another wants to act swiftly, but doesn't have the means;
a third thinks that peace can be got without
any expense, just through using cunning fair words.
Wake up, English noblemen!
Don't let laziness spoil your newly won honours:
the fleur-de-lis have been cropped from your coat of arms;
you have lost half of it.
EXETER.
Were our tears wanting to this funeral,
These tidings would call forth their flowing tides.
If this funeral was not making us cry,
this news would start us.
BEDFORD.
Me they concern; Regent I am of France.
Give me my steeled coat. I'll fight for France.
Away with these disgraceful wailing robes!
Wounds will I lend the French instead of eyes,
To weep their intermissive miseries.
This is my business; I am Regent of France.
Bring me my chainmail. I shall fight for France.
Enough of these disgraceful mourning clothes!
I'll give the French wounds instead of eyes,
through which they will cry for their regular miseries.
[Enter to them another Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
Lords, view these letters full of bad mischance.
France is revolted from the English quite,
Except some petty towns of no import:
The Dauphin Charles is crowned king in Rheims;
The Bastard of Orleans with him is join'd;
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, doth take his part;
The Duke of Alencon flieth to his side.
Lords, read these letters full of bad news.
France has completely revolted against England,
except for some little towns of no importance:
the Dauphin Charles has been crowned King at Rheims;
the Bastard of Orleans has joined with him;
Reignier, Duke of Anjou, is on his side;
the Duke of Alencon is hastening to join him.
EXETER.
The Dauphin crowned king! all fly to him!
O, whither shall we fly from this reproach?
The Dauphin crowned as King! Everyone rushes to him!
Oh, how shall we escape the shame of this?
GLOUCESTER.
We will not fly, but to our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out.
We will not flee, except towards our enemies' throats.
Bedford, if you won't agree, I'll do the fighting.
BEDFORD.
Gloucester, why doubt'st thou of my forwardness?
An army have I muster'd in my thoughts,
Wherewith already France is overrun.
Gloucester, why do you doubt my willingness?
I have already planned how to raise an army,
which in my mind has already conquered France.
[Enter another Messenger.]
MESSENGER.
My gracious lords, to add to your laments,
Wherewith you now bedew King Henry's hearse,
I must inform you of a dismal fight
Betwixt the stout Lord Talbot and the French.
My gracious lords, to add to your tears,
with which you now soak King Henry's hearse,
I must tell you about a terrible fight
between the brave Lord Talbot and the French.
Translation missing: en.general.search.loading