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

by William Shakespeare

  For now the devil, who told me I was doing the right thing,

  says that this deed has been noted in hell.

  I'll take this dead king to the living king.

  Take the others out, and bury them here.

  Exeunt

  Windsor Castle

  Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, the DUKE OF YORK, With other LORDS

  and attendants

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear

  Is that the rebels have consum'd with fire

  Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire;

  But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.

  Enter NORTHUMBERLAND

  Welcome, my lord. What is the news?

  Kind uncle York, the latest news I've heard

  is that the rebels have burnt down

  our town of Cirencester in Gloucestershire;

  but whether they have been captured or killed I have not heard.

  Welcome, my lord. What's the news?

  NORTHUMBERLAND.

  First, to thy sacred state wish I all

  happiness.

  The next news is, I have to London sent

  The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent.

  The manner of their taking may appear

  At large discoursed in this paper here.

  Firstly, to your holy majesty I wish all happiness.

  The next news is, I have sent the heads of Salisbury, Spencer,

  Blunt and Kent to London. The circumstances of their capture

  are fully explained in this paper here.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;

  And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.

  I thank you, kind Percy, for your efforts;

  you shall be rewarded for them.

  Enter FITZWATER

  FITZWATER.

  My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London

  The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely;

  Two of the dangerous consorted traitors

  That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.

  My lord, I have sent the heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely

  from Oxford to London;

  two of the dangerous plotting traitors

  who tried to fatally overthrow you at Oxford.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;

  Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.

  Your efforts, Fitzwater, will not be forgotten;

  I know that you are richly deserving.

  Enter PERCY, With the BISHOP OF CARLISLE

  PERCY.

  The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,

  With clog of conscience and sour melancholy,

  Hath yielded up his body to the grave;

  But here is Carlisle living, to abide

  Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.

  The great conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,

  consumed by guilt and depression,

  has given his body up to the grave;

  but here is Carlisle, still alive, to suffer

  your kingly sentence, and the punishment for his pride.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Carlisle, this is your doom:

  Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,

  More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;

  So as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife;

  For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,

  High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

  Carlisle, this is your punishment:

  find some secret place, some respectable room,

  bigger than you have now, and enjoy your life in it.

  As long as you live in peace, you will die peacefully;

  for although you have always been my enemy

  I have seen great signs of honour in you.

  Enter EXTON, with attendants, hearing a coffin

  EXTON.

  Great King, within this coffin I present

  Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies

  The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,

  Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.

  Great King, I present to you inside this coffin

  the fear which was hanging over you. Inside here, dead,

  lies the mightiest of your great enemies,

  Richard of Bordeaux, brought here by me.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought

  A deed of slander with thy fatal hand

  Upon my head and all this famous land.

  Exton, I do not thank you; for you have committed

  a deed with your killing hand which stains

  my reputation and this whole land.

  EXTON.

  From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.

  My lord, I did this thing on your orders.

  BOLINGBROKE.

  They love not poison that do poison need,

  Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead,

  I hate the murderer, love him murdered.

  The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,

  But neither my good word nor princely favour;

  With Cain go wander thorough shades of night,

  And never show thy head by day nor light.

  Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe

  That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.

  Come, mourn with me for what I do lament,

  And put on sullen black incontinent.

  I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,

  To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.

  March sadly after; grace my mournings here

  In weeping after this untimely bier.

  Those who need poison do not love poison,

  and I do not love you. Though I wanted him dead,

  I hate the murderer and love his victim.

  You can take guilt as the payment for your efforts,

  but you do not have my good word nor my princely favour;

  go and wander through the shades of night with Cain,

  and never show your face by day or by light.

  Lords, I tell you that my soul is full of sorrow

  that I should profit through the spilling of blood.

  Come and mourn with me for that which I lament,

  and put on mourning clothes at once.

  I shall make a voyage to the Holy Land,

  to wash this blood off my guilty hands.

  March sadly afterwards; dignify my mourning

  by weeping as you follow this too early funeral.

  Exeunt

  The End

  In Plain and Simple English

  EDWARD THE FOURTH

  Sons to the King

  EDWARD, PRINCE OF WALES afterwards KING EDWARD V

  RICHARD, DUKE OF YORK,

  Brothers to the King

  GEORGE, DUKE OF CLARENCE,

  RICHARD, DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, afterwards KING RICHARD III

  A YOUNG SON OF CLARENCE (Edward, Earl of Warwick)

  HENRY, EARL OF RICHMOND, afterwards KING HENRY VII

  CARDINAL BOURCHIER, ARCHBISHOP OF CANTERBURY

  THOMAS ROTHERHAM, ARCHBISHOP OF YORK

  JOHN MORTON, BISHOP OF ELY

  DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM

  DUKE OF NORFOLK

  EARL OF SURREY, his son

  EARL RIVERS, brother to King Edward's Queen

  MARQUIS OF DORSET and LORD GREY, her sons

  EARL OF OXFORD

  LORD HASTINGS

  LORD LOVEL

  LORD STANLEY, called also EARL OF DERBY

  SIR THOMAS VAUGHAN

  SIR RICHARD RATCLIFF

  SIR WILLIAM CATESBY

  SIR JAMES TYRREL

  SIR JAMES BLOUNT

  SIR WALTER HERBERT

  SIR WILLIAM BRANDON

  SIR ROBERT BRAKENBURY, Lieutenant of the Tower

  CHRISTOPHER URSWICK, a
priest

  LORD MAYOR OF LONDON

  SHERIFF OF WILTSHIRE

  HASTINGS, a pursuivant

  TRESSEL and BERKELEY, gentlemen attending on Lady Anne

  ELIZABETH, Queen to King Edward IV

  MARGARET, widow of King Henry VI

  DUCHESS OF YORK, mother to King Edward IV

  LADY ANNE, widow of Edward, Prince of Wales, son to King

  Henry VI; afterwards married to the Duke of Gloucester

  A YOUNG DAUGHTER OF CLARENCE (Margaret Plantagenet,

  Countess of Salisbury)

  Ghosts, of Richard's victims

  Lords, Gentlemen, and Attendants; Priest, Scrivener, Page,

  Bishops,

  Aldermen, Citizens, Soldiers, Messengers, Murderers, Keeper

  SCENE: England

  London. A street

  Enter RICHARD, DUKE OF RICHARD, solus

  RICHARD.

  Now is the winter of our discontent

  Made glorious summer by this sun of York;

  And all the clouds that lour'd upon our house

  In the deep bosom of the ocean buried.

  Now are our brows bound with victorious wreaths;

  Our bruised arms hung up for monuments;

  Our stern alarums chang'd to merry meetings,

  Our dreadful marches to delightful measures.

  Grim-visag'd war hath smooth'd his wrinkled front,

  And now, instead of mounting barbed steeds

  To fright the souls of fearful adversaries,

  He capers nimbly in a lady's chamber

  To the lascivious pleasing of a lute.

  But I-that am not shap'd for sportive tricks,

  Nor made to court an amorous looking-glass-

  I-that am rudely stamp'd, and want love's majesty

  To strut before a wanton ambling nymph-

  I-that am curtail'd of this fair proportion,

  Cheated of feature by dissembling nature,

  Deform'd, unfinish'd, sent before my time

  Into this breathing world scarce half made up,

  And that so lamely and unfashionable

  That dogs bark at me as I halt by them-

  Why, I, in this weak piping time of peace,

  Have no delight to pass away the time,

  Unless to spy my shadow in the sun

  And descant on mine own deformity.

  And therefore, since I cannot prove a lover

  To entertain these fair well-spoken days,

  I am determined to prove a villain

  And hate the idle pleasures of these days.

  Plots have I laid, inductions dangerous,

  By drunken prophecies, libels, and dreams,

  To set my brother Clarence and the King

  In deadly hate the one against the other;

  And if King Edward be as true and just

  As I am subtle, false, and treacherous,

  This day should Clarence closely be mew'd up-

  About a prophecy which says that G

  Of Edward's heirs the murderer shall be.

  Dive, thoughts, down to my soul. Here Clarence comes.

  Enter CLARENCE, guarded, and BRAKENBURY

  Brother, good day. What means this armed guard

  That waits upon your Grace?

  Now this miserable time

  has been made wonderful by Edward;

  and all the clouds that were hanging over our family

  have sunk back into the sea.

  Now our foreheads carry victorious wreaths,

  our battered weapons are hung up as memorials,

  great chaos has been changed to pleasant greetings,

  grim marches to delightful music.

  The terrible face of war has been smoothed over:

  and now, instead of mounting armoured horses

  to terrify his fearful enemies,

  he dances lightly in a lady's bedroom

  to the sexy music of a lute.

  But I was not made for those flirtatious games,

  or to look in the mirror of love;

  I am poorly made and don't have the

  wherewithal to dance in front of a amorously inclined lass:

  I, who haven't been given the correct proportions,

  who has been cheated of looks by deceitful Nature,

  deformed, unfinished, sent into the world only

  half made, before my time–

  and I am so lame and unfashionable

  that dogs bark at me if I stopnear them–

  why, I, in this time of songs of peace,

  have no pleasure to pass away the time,

  unless it is to see my shadow on the ground,

  and sing a song about my own deformities.

  And therefore, since I cannot be a lover

  to suit these pleasant days,

  I am determined I will be a villain,

  and despise the idle pleasures of others.

  I have constructed a plot, with a dangerous beginning,

  through drunken prophesies, lies, and dreams,

  to make my brother Clarence and the King

  develop a deadly hatred for each other:

  and if King Edward is as true and just

  as I am cunning, lying, and treacherous,

  then today Clarence should be imprisoned

  due to a prophecy, which says that ‘G’

  will murder Edward's heirs–

  I will bury my thoughts deep in my soul: here comes Clarence.

  Good day, brother; why are you accompanied

  by this armed guard?

  CLARENCE.

  His Majesty,

  Tend'ring my person's safety, hath appointed

  This conduct to convey me to th' Tower.

  His Majesty,

  out of concern for my safety, has appointed

  this escort to take me to the Tower.

  RICHARD.

  Upon what cause?

  For what reason?

  CLARENCE.

  Because my name is George.

  Because my name is George.

  RICHARD.

  Alack, my lord, that fault is none of yours:

  He should, for that, commit your godfathers.

  O, belike his Majesty hath some intent

  That you should be new-christ'ned in the Tower.

  But what's the matter, Clarence? May I know?

  Alas, my lord, that's no fault of yours:

  he should imprison your godfathers for that.

  Perhaps his Majesty has some plan

  for you to be newly christened in the Tower.

  But what's the problem, Clarence? May I know?

  CLARENCE.

  Yea, Richard, when I know; for I protest

  As yet I do not; but, as I can learn,

  He hearkens after prophecies and dreams,

  And from the cross-row plucks the letter G,

  And says a wizard told him that by G

  His issue disinherited should be;

  And, for my name of George begins with G,

  It follows in his thought that I am he.

  These, as I learn, and such like toys as these

  Hath mov'd his Highness to commit me now.

  You shall know, Richard, when I do; for I tell you

  that at the moment I don't; all I can discover is that

  he has been listening to prophecies and dreams,

  and out of the alphabet he has picked the letter G,

  and says that a wizard told him that G

  would disinherit his children;

  and, as my name George begins with G,

  he thinks that I must be that person.

  It's this, and things like this, so I hear,

  that has made his Highness imprison me now.

  RICHARD.

  Why, this it is when men are rul'd by women:

  'Tis not the King that sends you to the Tower;

  My Lady Grey his wife, Clarence, 'tis she

  That tempers him to thi
s extremity.

  Was it not she and that good man of worship,

  Antony Woodville, her brother there,

  That made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,

  From whence this present day he is delivered?

  We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

  Why, this is what happens when men are ruled by women:

  it's not the king who's sending you to the Tower;

  it's his wife, Lady Grey, Clarence, it's her

  who has encouraged this absurdity.

  Wasn't it her and that good holy man,

  Antony Woodville, her brother,

  that made him send Lord Hastings to the Tower,

  from which he was released today?

  We are not safe, Clarence; we are not safe.

  CLARENCE.

  By heaven, I think there is no man is secure

  But the Queen's kindred, and night-walking heralds

  That trudge betwixt the King and Mistress Shore.

  Heard you not what an humble suppliant

  Lord Hastings was to her, for her delivery?

  By heaven, I don't think anyone's safe

  apart from the Queen's family and the nightly messengers

  who go between the King and Mistress Shore.

  Haven't you heard how humbly Lord Hastings

  begged her for her forgiveness?

  RICHARD.

  Humbly complaining to her deity

  Got my Lord Chamberlain his liberty.

  I'll tell you what-I think it is our way,