The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 23
KING RICHARD.
I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
I am well, I'm breathing, and I see you ill.
GAUNT.
Now He that made me knows I see thee ill;
Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
Whose compass is no bigger than thy head;
And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye
Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.
Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
It were a shame to let this land by lease;
But for thy world enjoying but this land,
Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou now, not King.
Thy state of law is bondslave to the law;
And thou-
Now the one who made me knows I see you ill,
I have ill vision and also I can see illness within you.
Your deathbed is your whole country,
where your reputation is sick,
and you, being too careless a patient,
hand your holy body over to be cured
by those doctors that first wounded you:
a thousand flatterers sit within your crown,
whose circumference is no bigger than your head,
and yet, trapped within such small boundaries,
there is an evil no smaller than your whole land.
Oh, if your grandfather had been a prophet
and seen how his grandson would destroy his family,
he would have taken your opportunities out of your reach,
stopping you before you could assume the crown
which you are now madly going to throw away yourself.
Why, cousin, if you ruled the whole world,
it would be shameful to rent out this land;
but as this land is all you rule over,
isn't it more shameful to put this shame on it?
You are now the landlord of England, not its King,
your great office is mortgaged to the law,
and you–
KING RICHARD.
A lunatic lean-witted fool,
Presuming on an ague's privilege,
Darest with thy frozen admonition
Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
With fury from his native residence.
Now by my seat's right royal majesty,
Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
A crazy half witted fool,
taking advantage of the privileges of the sick,
who dares with your cold criticism
to make me turn pale, draining the royal blood
out of my face with anger.
I swear by my truly royal majestic throne
that if you weren't the brother of the son of great Edward
this tongue which you let run so freely
would become the axe which cuts off your disrespectful head.
GAUNT.
O, Spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
For that I was his father Edward's son;
That blood already, like the pelican,
Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd.
My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul-
Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls!-
May be a precedent and witness good
That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood.
Join with the present sickness that I have;
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too long withered flower.
Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
Convey me to my bed, then to my grave.
Love they to live that love and honour have.
Oh, do not spare me, my brother Edward's son,
just because I was his father Edward's son;
you have already spilt that blood and
drunkenly swilled it like a pelican.
My brother Gloucester, a simple well-meaning soul,
whom I hope has got a good welcome in heaven,
can be a good witness to the fact
that you don't care about spilling Edward's blood.
Add yourself to my current illness,
let your unkindness be like a scythe,
chopping down at once an already dying flower.
Live with your shame, but your shame won't die with you!
May these words torture you forever!
Carry me to my bed, then to my grave–
love the ones who are living who still have love and honour.
Exit, borne out by his attendants
KING RICHARD.
And let them die that age and sullens have;
For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
And let the ones who are old and sullen die;
you are both, and both are suitable for the grave.
YORK.
I do beseech your Majesty impute his words
To wayward sickliness and age in him.
He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here.
I beg your Majesty to regard his words as
the product of his illness and his age.
He loves you, I swear, and you’re as dear to him
as Harry Duke of Hereford, if he were here.
KING RICHARD.
Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his;
As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
Right, you are right: Hereford's love is like his;
mine is like theirs; that's how everything is.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
NORTHUMBERLAND.
My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your
Majesty.
My lord, old Gaunt sends your Majesty his compliments.
KING RICHARD.
What says he?
What does he say?
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Nay, nothing; all is said.
His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
No, nothing; all has been said.
His tongue is now mute;
old Lancaster has spent his words, his life and all.
YORK.
Be York the next that must be bankrupt so!
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
Let York be the next man to be so bankrupt!
Though death is poor, it ends the pain of life.
KING RICHARD.
The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
So much for that. Now for our Irish wars.
We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
Which live like venom where no venom else
But only they have privilege to live.
And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
Towards our assistance we do seize to us
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
The ripest fruit falls first, and so he does;
his time is up, and so is our pilgrimage
.
So much for that. Now for the Irish wars.
We must overthrow those shaggy headed fighters,
who are a poison in a place where no other
apart from them is allowed to survive.
As this great business must be paid for,
to help us we shall take possession of
the plate, money, revenues, and goods
which our uncle Gaunt owned.
YORK.
How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long
Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment,
Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
Have ever made me sour my patient cheek
Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
I am the last of noble Edward's sons,
Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first.
In war was never lion rag'd more fierce,
In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
Than was that young and princely gentleman.
His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
But when he frown'd, it was against the French
And not against his friends. His noble hand
Did win what he did spend, and spent not that
Which his triumphant father's hand had won.
His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
O Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Or else he never would compare between-
How long will I put up with this? Ah, how long
shall my sense of duty make me endure evil?
Neither Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's exile,
nor Gaunt's criticisms, nor England's suffering,
nor the blocking of poor Bolingbroke's
marriage, nor my own disgrace,
have ever made me shed a tear,
or frown once in the face of my king.
I am the last son of noble Edward,
of whom your father, the Prince of Wales, was the first.
There was never a fiercer lion in battle,
never a gentler lamb in peace,
than that young and regal gentleman.
You have his face, that's how he looked,
when he was the same age as you;
when he fought it was with the French,
and not with his friends; his noble hand
only spent what he had won, and didn't spend
what his triumphant father had won;
he did not have any family blood on his hands,
they were bloody with that of his family's enemies.
Oh Richard! York has gone mad in his grief,
otherwise he would never compare–
KING RICHARD.
Why, uncle, what's the matter?
Why, uncle, what's the matter?
YORK.
O my liege,
Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd
Not to be pardoned, am content withal.
Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford?
Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Hereford live?
Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time
His charters and his customary rights;
Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;
Be not thyself-for how art thou a king
But by fair sequence and succession?
Now, afore God-God forbid I say true!-
If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
Call in the letters patents that he hath
By his attorneys-general to sue
His livery, and deny his off'red homage,
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
Oh my lord,
please excuse me; if not, I'm pleased
not to be excused, I'll be happy whatever.
Do you want to grab into your hands
the property and titles of exiled Hereford?
Isn't Gaunt dead? And isn't Hereford alive?
Wasn't Gaunt fair? Isn't Harry good?
Didn't the one deserve to have an heir?
Isn't his heir a son who deserved his inheritance?
Take Hereford's rights away, and remove
all thethings he is due by custom from history;
then don't let tomorrow follow on from today:
don't be who you are. For how are you a king
except by the fair rules of inheritance?
Now before God–may God forbid this happens!–
If you wrongly seize Hereford's rights,
revoke the legal permission that he has
to claim his father's lands
and reject his offers of loyalty,
you are calling down a thousand dangers on your head,
you will lose a thousand well disposed hearts,
and you will make my sensitive mind think
things which honour and loyalty should not.
KING RICHARD.
Think what you will, we seize into our hands
His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.
Think what you like, I am taking
his plate, his goods, his money and his lands.
YORK.
I'll not be by the while. My liege, farewell.
What will ensue hereof there's none can tell;
But by bad courses may be understood
That their events can never fall out good.
I won't stand by and watch. My lord, farewell.
Nobody can tell what will come of this;
but we can clearly see that bad behaviour
never leads to a good outcome.
Exit
KING RICHARD.
Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight;
Bid him repair to us to Ely House
To see this business. To-morrow next
We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow.
And we create, in absence of ourself,
Our Uncle York Lord Governor of England;
For he is just, and always lov'd us well.
Come on, our queen; to-morrow must we part;
Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
Bushy, go straight to the Earl of Wiltshire;
tell him to come to us at Ely House
to see to this business. Tomorrow
I shall go to Ireland, I think it's time.
In my absence I appoint
my uncle York Lord Governor of England;
he is fair, and has always been good to me.
Come on, my queen; tomorrow we must part;
let's be jolly, for we don't have long.
Flourish. Exeunt KING, QUEEN, BUSHY, AUMERLE,
GREEN, and BAGOT
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
ROSS.
And living too; for now his son is Duke.
And living too; for his son is now Duke.
WILLOUGHBY.
Barely in title, not in revenues.
Hardly in name, not in income.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Richly in both, if justice had her right.
If there was any justice he would be rich in both.
ROSS.
My heart is great; but it must break with silence,
Ere't be disburdened with a liberal tongue.
&nb
sp; My heart is full; but it must remain silent,
in case, speaking, it would say too much.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak
more
That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
No, say what you're thinking; don't let anyone
repeat your words to do you harm!
WILLOUGHBY.
Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of
Hereford?
If it be so, out with it boldly, man;
Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
Do you have something to say about the Duke of Hereford?
If that's the case, spit it out, man;
I'm eager to hear good things about him.
ROSS.
No good at all that I can do for him;
Unless you call it good to pity him,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
I can't do any good for him;
unless you think it's good to pity him,
stripped of all his inheritance.
NORTHUMBERLAND.
Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are
borne
In him, a royal prince, and many moe
Of noble blood in this declining land.
The King is not himself, but basely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
That will the King severely prosecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
Now, I swear to God, it's shameful that such wrongs are suffered
by him, a royal prince, and many others
of his noble blood in this declining country.
The King is not himself, he is led astray
by flatterers; and what they will say to him
out of pure hate, against any of us,
will make the King launch harsh attacks
against us, our lives, our children and our heirs.
ROSS.
The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes;
And quite lost their hearts; the nobles hath he find
For ancient quarrels and quite lost their hearts.