The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)

by William Shakespeare

  Till Norfolk be repeal'd-repeal'd he shall be

  And, though mine enemy, restor'd again

  To all his lands and signories. When he is return'd,

  Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.

  These arguments will all wait under the challenge

  until Norfolk is recalled–he shall be recalled

  and, although he is my enemy, he shall be given back

  all his lands and estates. When he comes back,

  he shall take up this challenge of Aumerle's.

  CARLISLE.

  That honourable day shall never be seen.

  Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought

  For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,

  Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross

  Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens;

  And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself

  To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave

  His body to that pleasant country's earth,

  And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,

  Under whose colours he had fought so long.

  That honourable day will never be seen.

  Many times the exiled Norfolk fought

  for Jesus Christ in glorious Christian battles,

  carrying the sign of the Christian cross

  against black pagans, Turks and Saracens;

  and, exhausted with battle, he retired

  to Italy; and there, at Venice, he gave

  his body to the pleasant earth of that country

  and his pure soul to his captain, Christ,

  for whom he had fought for so long.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?

  Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?

  CARLISLE.

  As surely as I live, my lord.

  As surely as I'm alive, my lord.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom

  Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,

  Your differences shall all rest under gage

  Till we assign you to your days of trial.

  May his sweet soul go in peace to join

  good old Abraham! You accusing lords,

  all your arguments wait under their challenges

  until I set a date for their trials.

  Enter YORK, attended

  YORK.

  Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee

  From plume-pluck'd Richard, who with willing soul

  Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields

  To the possession of thy royal hand.

  Ascend his throne, descending now from him-

  And long live Henry, fourth of that name!

  Great Duke of Lancaster, I have come to you

  from crestfallen Richard, who has willingly

  appointed you as his heir, and he hands his glorious sceptre

  into your royal hand.

  Climb onto his throne, now you are his successor–

  and long live Henry, fourth king of that name!

  BOLINGBROKE.

  In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.

  In the name of God, I will take the royal throne.

  CARLISLE.

  Marry, God forbid!

  Worst in this royal presence may I speak,

  Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.

  Would God that any in this noble presence

  Were enough noble to be upright judge

  Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would

  Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.

  What subject can give sentence on his king?

  And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?

  Thieves are not judg'd but they are by to hear,

  Although apparent guilt be seen in them;

  And shall the figure of God's majesty,

  His captain, steward, deputy elect,

  Anointed, crowned, planted many years,

  Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath,

  And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God,

  That in a Christian climate souls refin'd

  Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!

  I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,

  Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king.

  My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,

  Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king;

  And if you crown him, let me prophesy-

  The blood of English shall manure the ground,

  And future ages groan for this foul act;

  Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,

  And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars

  Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound;

  Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,

  Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd

  The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.

  O, if you raise this house against this house,

  It will the woefullest division prove

  That ever fell upon this cursed earth.

  Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so,

  Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe.

  No, God forbid!

  Although I may be the lowest ranked person here,

  I may be the most suitable to tell the truth.

  I wish to God that there was anyone in this noble gathering

  who was noble enough to be a fair judge

  of noble Richard! Then true nobility would

  show him not to commit such a terrible wrong.

  What subject can pass sentence on his king?

  And who is there here who is not Richard's subject?

  Even thieves aren't judged when they are absent,

  however guilty they appear,

  so will the representative of God's majesty,

  his captain, steward, chosen deputy,

  anointed, crowned, in office for many years,

  be judged by his subjects and the words of his inferiors,

  when he himself is not present? Oh forbid it, God,

  don't let these refined souls in a Christian country

  do such a hateful, black, obscene deed!

  I am a subject, speaking to subjects,

  inspired by God to speak out for his king.

  My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call King,

  is a foul traitor to the proud king of Hereford,

  and if you crown him, this is what I predict:

  the blood of the English will fertilise the ground,

  and future times will suffer for this foul act,

  peace will find its place with Turks and infidels,

  and, in this home of peace, terrible wars

  will set brother against brother, countryman against countryman.

  Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny

  will live here, and this land shall be called

  the plain of Golgotha, covered in dead men's skulls.

  Oh, if you raise this family above that one

  that will prove to be the deadliest division

  that ever fell upon this cursed earth.

  Prevent it, resist it, don't do it,

  otherwise your children and your grandchildren will cry out against you in sorrow.

  NORTHUMBERLAND.

  Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,

  Of capital treason we arrest you here.

  My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge

  To keep him safely till his day of trial.

  May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit?

  You have argued well, sir; and, for your efforts,

  I arrest you on a charge of capital treason.

  My Lord of Westminster, make it your duty

  to keep him safe until the day of his trial.

  Do you agree, my lords, to grant the request of the Commons?

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Fetch hither Richard, that in common view

 
He may surrender; so we shall proceed

  Without suspicion.

  Bring Richard here, so that he can surrender

  in open view; that way we can proceed

  without any suspicion.

  YORK.

  I will be his conduct.

  I shall bring him here.

  Exit

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Lords, you that here are under our arrest,

  Procure your sureties for your days of answer.

  Little are we beholding to your love,

  And little look'd for at your helping hands.

  Lords, you who are here under my arrest,

  find your bail against the day of your trial.

  I owe little to your love,

  and I didn't ask you for much help.

  Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and OFFICERS

  bearing the regalia

  KING RICHARD.

  Alack, why am I sent for to a king,

  Before I have shook off the regal thoughts

  Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd

  To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.

  Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me

  To this submission. Yet I well remember

  The favours of these men. Were they not mine?

  Did they not sometime cry 'All hail!' to me?

  So Judas did to Christ; but he, in twelve,

  Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.

  God save the King! Will no man say amen?

  Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, amen.

  God save the King! although I be not he;

  And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.

  To do what service am I sent for hither?

  Alas, why have I been summoned by a King

  before I have thrown off the royal habits

  I had when I ruled? I have hardly learned yet

  to manoeuvre, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.

  Give sorrow time to teach me how to

  be so submissive. But I clearly remember

  the faces of these men. Weren't they mine?

  Didn't they sometimes call out ‘We salute you!’ to me?

  That's what Judas did to Christ; but out of twelve men

  all but one were loyal to him; out of twelve thousand I don't have one.

  God save the King! Will no man agree to that?

  Do I have to be the priest and the responder? Well then, amen.

  God save the King! Although I am not him;

  and yet, amen, if heaven thinks I am.

  What have you summoned me for?

  YORK.

  To do that office of thine own good will

  Which tired majesty did make thee offer-

  The resignation of thy state and crown

  To Henry Bolingbroke.

  To willingly perform the task which you

  offered through your royal exhaustion–

  tohand over your country and your crown

  to Henry Bolingbroke.

  KING RICHARD.

  Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown.

  Here, cousin,

  On this side my hand, and on that side thine.

  Now is this golden crown like a deep well

  That owes two buckets, filling one another;

  The emptier ever dancing in the air,

  The other down, unseen, and full of water.

  That bucket down and full of tears am I,

  Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.

  Give me the crown. Here, cousin, take the crown.

  Here, cousin,

  my hand is on this side, yours on that.

  Now this golden crown is like a deep well

  that has two buckets, filling each other;

  the empty one always swinging in the air,

  the other low down, unseen, and full of water.

  I am the lower bucket, full of tears,

  drowning in grief, while you climb up high.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  I thought you had been willing to resign.

  I thought you were willing to resign.

  KING RICHARD.

  My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine.

  You may my glories and my state depose,

  But not my griefs; still am I king of those.

  Yes, to resign my crown; but my sorrows are still mine.

  You may overthrow my glory and my position,

  but not my sorrows; I'm still king of those.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Part of your cares you give me with your crown.

  You hand some of your cares to me with your crown.

  KING RICHARD.

  Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.

  My care is loss of care, by old care done;

  Your care is gain of care, by new care won.

  The cares I give I have, though given away;

  They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.

  You taking on cares does not take them from me.

  My sorrow is that I have lost care by finishing with old cares;

  your sorrow is that you've gained care, being loaded with new cares.

  The cares I give away still stay with me;

  they go with the crown, but they stay with me.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Are you contented to resign the crown?

  Are you content to resign the crown?

  KING RICHARD.

  Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be;

  Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.

  Now mark me how I will undo myself:

  I give this heavy weight from off my head,

  And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,

  The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;

  With mine own tears I wash away my balm,

  With mine own hands I give away my crown,

  With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,

  With mine own breath release all duteous oaths;

  All pomp and majesty I do forswear;

  My manors, rents, revenues, I forgo;

  My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny.

  God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!

  God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee!

  Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd,

  And thou with all pleas'd, that hast an achiev'd.

  Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,

  And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit.

  God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says,

  And send him many years of sunshine days!

  What more remains?

  Yes, no; no, yes; for I must be nothing;

  therefore no ' no', for I resign to you.

  Now, see how I undermine myself.

  I give you this heavy weight from off my head,

  and this clumsy sceptre from my hand,

  the pride of royal power from out of my heart;

  I wash away the anointing oil with my tears,

  with my own hands I give you my crown,

  with my own tongue I reject my holy position,

  with my own breath I release all who have sworn oaths to me;

  I give up all ceremony and majesty;

  I give up my manors, rents and revenues;

  I reject all my acts, decrees and statutes.

  May God pardon all the promises to me that have been broken,

  and keep all the promises that are made to you unbroken!

  Make me, who has nothing, be grieved with nothing,

  and may you who has won everything be pleased with everything.

  May you live long sitting in Richard's seat,

  and soon bury Richard in his grave.

  God save King Henry, no longer king Richard says,

  and give him many years of sunny days!

  What is left?

  NORTHUMBERLAND.

  No more; but that you read

  These accusations, and these grievous cr
imes

  Committed by your person and your followers

  Against the state and profit of this land;

  That, by confessing them, the souls of men

  May deem that you are worthily depos'd.

  That's enough; all you need to do now is read out

  these accusations, these grievous crimes

  committed by you and your followers

  against the state and best interest of this land;

  so that men, hearing you confess to them

  can judge that you are rightly overthrown.

  KING RICHARD.

  Must I do so? And must I ravel out

  My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland,

  If thy offences were upon record,

  Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop

  To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,

  There shouldst thou find one heinous article,

  Containing the deposing of a king

  And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,

  Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven.

  Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me

  Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,

  Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,

  Showing an outward pity-yet you Pilates

  Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,

  And water cannot wash away your sin.

  Do I have to? And must I unravel

  all my intertwined foolishness? Sweet Northumberland,

  if everything you've done wrong was written down,

  wouldn't you be ashamed to read them out

  in such fair company? If you did

  you would find one awful item there

  concerning the overthrow of a king

  and the breaking of a strong oath,

  marked with a blot, damned in the book of heaven.

  No, all of you who stand looking at me

  as I am tormented with my wretchedness,

  although some of you, like Pilate, wash your hands

  and pretend to show pity–yet you Pilates

  have delivered me to my bitter cross,

  and water cannot wash away your sins.

  NORTHUMBERLAND.

  My lord, dispatch; read o'er these

  articles.