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Henry V
·III ii 16 ·
Prose
Boy As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers. I am boy to them all three: but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to a man. For Bardolph, he is white-livered and red-faced; by the means whereof a' faces it out, but fights not. For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a' breaks words, and keeps whole weapons. For Nym, he hath heard that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a' should be thought a coward: but his few bad words are matched with as few good deeds; for a' never broke any man's head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk. They will steal any thing, and call it purchase. Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three half pence. Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals. They would have me as familiar with men's pockets as their gloves or their handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, if I should take from another's pocket to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs. I must leave them, and seek some better service: their villany goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up. |
Original: As young as I am, I have observed these three swashers.
Modern: Even though I’m young, I’ve been watching these three bullies.
Original: I am boy to them all three: but all they three, though they would serve me, could not be man to me; for indeed three such antics do not amount to a man.
Modern: I work as a servant for all three of them, but even if they tried to serve me, they couldn’t be real men to me - because three such clowns don’t add up to one real man.
Original: For Bardolph, he is white-livered and red-faced; by the means whereof a’ faces it out, but fights not.
Modern: Take Bardolph - he’s a coward with a red face from drinking, so he acts tough but never actually fights.
Original: For Pistol, he hath a killing tongue and a quiet sword; by the means whereof a’ breaks words, and keeps whole weapons.
Modern: As for Pistol, he talks a deadly game but his sword stays silent - he breaks his promises but keeps his weapons unused.
Original: For Nym, he hath heard that men of few words are the best men; and therefore he scorns to say his prayers, lest a’ should be thought a coward: but his few bad words are matched with as few good deeds; for a’ never broke any man’s head but his own, and that was against a post when he was drunk.
Modern: And Nym thinks that quiet men are the toughest men, so he won’t even say his prayers in case people think he’s weak - but his few nasty words match his few good actions, since he’s never hurt anyone except himself when he drunkenly ran into a post.
Original: They will steal any thing, and call it purchase.
Modern: They’ll steal anything and pretend they bought it legally.
Original: Bardolph stole a lute-case, bore it twelve leagues, and sold it for three half pence.
Modern: Bardolph stole a guitar case, carried it thirty-six miles, and sold it for almost nothing.
Original: Nym and Bardolph are sworn brothers in filching, and in Calais they stole a fire-shovel: I knew by that piece of service the men would carry coals.
Modern: Nym and Bardolph are partners in crime when it comes to stealing, and in France they stole a coal shovel - which showed me these men would do the dirtiest work.
Original: They would have me as familiar with men’s pockets as their gloves or their handkerchers: which makes much against my manhood, if I should take from another’s pocket to put into mine; for it is plain pocketing up of wrongs.
Modern: They want me to pick pockets as easily as I’d handle gloves or handkerchiefs - but this goes against my sense of honor as a man, because stealing from others is clearly just swallowing insults and wrongs.
Original: I must leave them, and seek some better service: their villany goes against my weak stomach, and therefore I must cast it up.
Modern: I have to leave them and find better work - their evil ways make me sick to my stomach, so I need to throw it all up and get out.
In Act III, Scene 2 of Henry V, the action shifts to the English camp before Harfleur, where Bardolph, Nym, Pistol, and the Boy are reluctantly approaching the breach in the city walls. The three rogues express their fear and reluctance to fight, with Bardolph wishing he were in an alehouse in London rather than facing battle. Their cowardly behavior is interrupted by Captain Fluellen, the Welsh officer, who drives them forward toward the breach with threats and curses, forcing them to rejoin the assault on the city.
After Fluellen exits, the Boy remains behind and delivers a soliloquy revealing his disgust with his three companions. He describes how Bardolph, Nym, and Pistol are more interested in stealing and pilfering than in honest soldiering, and expresses his desire to leave their service. The Boy recounts their cowardly and thievish nature, noting that while they talk boldly, they lack true courage in battle. He concludes by stating his intention to seek other employment, as he has grown tired of their knavish ways and fears that staying with them will lead him to the gallows.
Henry V follows the young English king as he transforms from the wayward Prince Hal into a decisive military leader. The play opens with Henry’s court debating his claim to the French throne through his great-great-grandmother’s lineage. When the French Dauphin mockingly sends Henry tennis balls as a gift, suggesting he should stick to games rather than warfare, Henry uses this insult as justification to invade France. He sentences three conspirators - Cambridge, Scroop, and Grey - to death for plotting against his life, then sets sail for France with his army.
The English forces land in France and lay siege to Harfleur, which Henry captures after his famous “Once more unto the breach” speech. However, his army is weakened by disease and casualties. Meanwhile, we follow the tavern companions from Henry’s youth - Pistol, Nym, Bardolph, and Hostess Quickly, who reports the death of Falstaff. The English army, vastly outnumbered, faces the French at Agincourt. On the eve of battle, Henry disguises himself and walks among his soldiers to gauge their morale, engaging in philosophical discussions about kingship and responsibility.
The Battle of Agincourt proves to be a decisive English victory despite overwhelming French numerical superiority. Henry orders the killing of French prisoners when he believes the French are regrouping, and becomes enraged when he discovers French forces have killed the English boys guarding the baggage train. The English suffer minimal casualties while French losses are enormous. The play concludes with Henry’s courtship of Princess Katherine of France, conducted partly in broken French and English. Their marriage seals the Treaty of Troyes, which names Henry as heir to the French throne, though the Chorus epilogue reminds the audience that Henry’s son would later lose these French territories.