Henry VI, Part 1 Translation Act 1, Scene 6
Enter, on the walls, JOAN LA PUCELLE, CHARLES, REIGNIER, ALENCON, and Soldiers
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Advance our waving colours on the walls;Rescued is Orleans from the EnglishThus Joan la Pucelle hath perform'd her word.
JOAN LA PUCELLE
Raise our military flags on the walls! Orleans is rescued from the English and so Joan la Pucelle has carried out her promise.
Divinest creature, Astraea's daughter, How shall I honour thee for this success? Thy promises are like Adonis' gardens That one day bloom'd and fruitful were the next. France, triumph in thy glorious prophetess! Recover'd is the town of Orleans: More blessed hap did ne'er befall our state.
You, most heavenly creature! Astraea's daughter! How shall I honor you for your success? Your promises are like Adonis' gardens, that bloomed one day and ripened the day after. France, you should celebrate your glorious prophetess! The town of Orleans is recovered. Our fortune has never been better.
Why ring not out the bells aloud throughout the town? Dauphin, command the citizens make bonfires And feast and banquet in the open streets, To celebrate the joy that God hath given us.
Why are the bells not ringing through the town? Dauphin, command the citizens to light bonfires and eat and have a banquet in the streets, to celebrate the joy that God has given us.
All France will be replete with mirth and joy,When they shall hear how we have play'd the men.
All of France will be full of merriment and joy, when they hear how we have performed our role as soldiers.
'Tis Joan, not we, by whom the day is won; For which I will divide my crown with her, And all the priests and friars in my realm Shall in procession sing her endless praise. A statelier pyramis to her I'll rear Than Rhodope's or Memphis' ever was: In memory of her when she is dead, Her ashes, in an urn more precious Than the rich-jewel'd of Darius, Transported shall be at high festivals Before the kings and queens of France. No longer on Saint Denis will we cry, But Joan la Pucelle shall be France's saint. Come in, and let us banquet royally, After this golden day of victory.
It is Joan and not us who won this day. For her actions, I will share my crown with her and all the priests in my kingdom shall sing her endless praise through the streets. I'll build more magnificent pyramids for her than Rhodope's of Memphis' ever were. In memory of her when she is dead, her ashes will be stored in an urn more precious than the rich jewel of Darius. They will be presented at important festivals before the kings and queens of France. We will no longer pray to "Saint Denis" but Joan la Pucelle will be the new saint of France. Come in, and let us banquet in royal fashion, after this golden day of victory.
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