The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
Page 39
ANNE.
To take is not to give. [Puts on the ring]
Taking is not giving.
RICHARD.
Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger,
Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;
Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.
And if thy poor devoted servant may
But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,
Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.
Look how my ringembraces your finger,
even as your breast embraces my poor heart;
wear both of them, as both of them are yours.
And if your poor devoted servant may
ask for just one favour from you,
you will make him happy forever.
ANNE.
What is it?
What is it?
RICHARD.
That it may please you leave these sad designs
To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,
And presently repair to Crosby House;
Where-after I have solemnly interr'd
At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king,
And wet his grave with my repentant tears-
I will with all expedient duty see you.
For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,
Grant me this boon.
That you agree to leave these sad matters
to the one who has the most reason to be a mourner,
and go at once to Crosby House;
and after I have solemnly buried
this noble king at Chertsey monastery,
and wet his grave with my tears of repentance,
I will come to see you as soon as I can.
For many secret reasons, I beg you,
do me this favour.
ANNE.
With all my heart; and much it joys me too
To see you are become so penitent.
Tressel and Berkeley, go along with me.
With all my heart; and it pleases me very much
to see that you are being so repentant.
Tressel and Berkeley, come along with me.
RICHARD.
Bid me farewell.
Give me your good wishes.
ANNE.
'Tis more than you deserve;
But since you teach me how to flatter you,
Imagine I have said farewell already.
It's more than you deserve;
but since you are teaching me how to flatter you,
imagine I have said farewell already.
Exeunt two GENTLEMEN With LADY ANNE
RICHARD.
Sirs, take up the corse.
Sirs, pick up the body.
GENTLEMEN.
Towards Chertsey, noble lord?
And carry on to Chertsey, noble lord?
RICHARD.
No, to White Friars; there attend my coming.
Exeunt all but RICHARD
Was ever woman in this humour woo'd?
Was ever woman in this humour won?
I'll have her; but I will not keep her long.
What! I that kill'd her husband and his father-
To take her in her heart's extremest hate,
With curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
The bleeding witness of my hatred by;
Having God, her conscience, and these bars against me,
And I no friends to back my suit at all
But the plain devil and dissembling looks,
And yet to win her, all the world to nothing!
Ha!
Hath she forgot already that brave prince,
Edward, her lord, whom I, some three months since,
Stabb'd in my angry mood at Tewksbury?
A sweeter and a lovelier gentleman-
Fram'd in the prodigality of nature,
Young, valiant, wise, and no doubt right royal-
The spacious world cannot again afford;
And will she yet abase her eyes on me,
That cropp'd the golden prime of this sweet prince
And made her widow to a woeful bed?
On me, whose all not equals Edward's moiety?
On me, that halts and am misshapen thus?
My dukedom to a beggarly denier,
I do mistake my person all this while.
Upon my life, she finds, although I cannot,
Myself to be a marv'llous proper man.
I'll be at charges for a looking-glass,
And entertain a score or two of tailors
To study fashions to adorn my body.
Since I am crept in favour with myself,
I will maintain it with some little cost.
But first I'll turn yon fellow in his grave,
And then return lamenting to my love.
Shine out, fair sun, till I have bought a glass,
That I may see my shadow as I pass.
No, to Whitefriars; wait for me there.
Was a woman with these feelings ever wooed?
Was a woman with these feelings ever won?
I'll have her, but I won't keep her long.
What! I killed her husband and his father:
to win her when her hate for me is at its highest,
with curses in her mouth, tears in her eyes,
the bloody cause of her hatred close by,
with God, her conscience and these barriers
against me–
and I, with no friends to press my case
except for the devil and false looks–
and yet I can win her, and beat the world!
Ha!
Has she already forgotten that brave Prince,
Edward, her Lord, whom I, some three months ago,
stabbed at Tewkesbury in my rage?
The world will never again see
as sweet or lovely a gentleman,
a great work of nature,
Young, brave, wise, and certainly royal.
And yet she will lower her eyes to me,
who made her a widow in a bed of sorrow?
She looks at me, whom the whole of cannot equal half of Edward?
On me, who limps and has this twisted body?
I bet my dukedom against a farthing,
I have been mistaken about my looks this whole time!
I swear on my life, she thinks–although I do not–
that I am a fine figure of a man.
I shall buy a looking glass,
and have a score or two of tailors
invent fashionable clothes for my body:
since I have now decided to like myself,
I shall keep my looks up with some expense.
But first I'll put this fellow in his grave,
and then return, sorrowful, to my love.
Fair sun, shine out until I have bought a mirror,
so I can see my shadow as I go along.
Exit
London. The palace
Enter QUEEN ELIZABETH, LORD RIVERS, and LORD GREY
RIVERS.
Have patience, madam; there's no doubt his Majesty
Will soon recover his accustom'd health.
Be patient, madam: there's no doubt his Majesty
will soon be back to his normal self.
GREY.
In that you brook it ill, it makes him worse;
Therefore, for God's sake, entertain good comfort,
And cheer his Grace with quick and merry eyes.
When he sees you think things are bad, it makes him worse; therefore, for God's sake, comfort him
and cheer his Grace up by being merry.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
If he were dead, what would betide on me?
If he dies, what will happen to me?
GREY.
No other harm but loss of such a lord.
Nothing worse than the loss of such a husband.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
The loss of such a lord includes all harms.
The loss of such a husba
nd is the worst thing imaginable.
GREY.
The heavens have bless'd you with a goodly son
To be your comforter when he is gone.
The heavens have blessed you with a fine son
to look after you when he's gone.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Ah, he is young; and his minority
Is put unto the trust of Richard Gloucester,
A man that loves not me, nor none of you.
Ah, he's young; and until he is grown he is
to be under the protection of Richard Gloucester,
a man who does not love me, nor any of you.
RIVER.
Is it concluded he shall be Protector?
Is it definite he will be the Protector?
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
It is determin'd, not concluded yet;
But so it must be, if the King miscarry.
It has been decided, but it's not definite yet;
but that's what must happen, if the king should die.
Enter BUCKINGHAM and DERBY
GREY.
Here come the Lords of Buckingham and Derby.
Here come the lords of Buckingham and Derby.
BUCKINGHAM.
Good time of day unto your royal Grace!
Good day to your Royal Highness!
DERBY.
God make your Majesty joyful as you have been.
May God give your Majesty back her happiness.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
The Countess Richmond, good my Lord
of Derby,
To your good prayer will scarcely say amen.
Yet, Derby, notwithstanding she's your wife
And loves not me, be you, good lord, assur'd
I hate not you for her proud arrogance.
My good Lord Derby, the Countess of Richmond
would hardly agree with your prayers.
But, Derby, despite the fact that she's your wife
and does not love me, I can assure you, my good lord,
that I don't hate you on account of her arrogance.
DERBY.
I do beseech you, either not believe
The envious slanders of her false accusers;
Or, if she be accus'd on true report,
Bear with her weakness, which I think proceeds
From wayward sickness and no grounded malice.
I beg you, either don't believe
the jealous lies offalse accusers;
or, if there are true accusations,
make allowances for her weakness, which I think comes
from a wandering mind, and no real hatred.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Saw you the King to-day, my Lord ofDerby?
Did you see the King today, Lord Derby?
DERBY.
But now the Duke of Buckingham and I
Are come from visiting his Majesty.
The Duke of Buckingham and I have
just come from visiting his Majesty.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
What likelihood of his amendment, Lords?
What chance is there of his recovery,
my Lords?
BUCKINGHAM.
Madam, good hope; his Grace speaks
cheerfully.
A good chance I hope, madam; his Grace
is speaking cheerfully.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
God grant him health! Did you confer with him?
May God give him health! Did you speak with him?
BUCKINGHAM.
Ay, madam; he desires to make atonement
Between the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
And between them and my Lord Chamberlain;
And sent to warn them to his royal presence.
Yes, madam; he wants to reconcile
the Duke of Gloucester and your brothers,
and them and the Lord Chamberlain;
and has summoned them to his royal presence.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Would all were well! But that will never be.
I fear our happiness is at the height.
I wish all was well! But it will never happen.
I fear this is as good as it will get.
Enter RICHARD, HASTINGS, and DORSET
RICHARD.
They do me wrong, and I will not endure it.
Who is it that complains unto the King
That I, forsooth, am stern and love them not?
By holy Paul, they love his Grace but lightly
That fill his ears with such dissentious rumours.
Because I cannot flatter and look fair,
Smile in men's faces, smooth, deceive, and cog,
Duck with French nods and apish courtesy,
I must be held a rancorous enemy.
Cannot a plain man live and think no harm
But thus his simple truth must be abus'd
With silken, sly, insinuating Jacks?
They have wronged me, and I will not tolerate it.
Who is it that complains to the King
that I, by God, am harsh and do not love them?
By holy Paul, those who fill the ears of his grace
with such disloyal rumours cannot love him much.
Because I do not flatter, and look sweet,
smile to men's faces, speak smoothly and deceptively,
grotesquely copy French manners,
this makes me an angry enemy.
Can't a simple man live, thinking no harm,
without his simple truth being abused
by these silky, cunning, ingratiating upstarts?
GREY.
To who in all this presence speaks your Grace?
Who of all the people here is your Grace speaking of?
RICHARD.
To thee, that hast nor honesty nor grace.
When have I injur'd thee? when done thee wrong,
Or thee, or thee, or any of your faction?
A plague upon you all! His royal Grace-
Whom God preserve better than you would wish!-
Cannot be quiet scarce a breathing while
But you must trouble him with lewd complaints.
To you, who has neither honesty or grace.
When have I done you any harm? When I have I done you wrong,
you, or any of your party?
A plague on all of you! His royal Grace–
may God preserve him better than you would like!–
cannot lie quiet, hardly able to breathe, but
you must trouble him with your foolish complaints.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Brother of Gloucester, you mistake the
matter.
The King, on his own royal disposition
And not provok'd by any suitor else-
Aiming, belike, at your interior hatred
That in your outward action shows itself
Against my children, brothers, and myself-
Makes him to send that he may learn the ground.
Brother of Gloucester, you are mistaken.
The King, through his own royal inclination,
and not encouraged by anybody else–
probably intending to investigate your inner hatred
that shows itself in your outward actions
against my children, brothers and myself–
has sent for you so he can ask for your reasons.
RICHARD.
I cannot tell; the world is grown so bad
That wrens make prey where eagles dare not perch.
Since every Jack became a gentleman,
There's many a gentle person made a Jack.
I can't tell; the world has become so bad
that wrens are hunting where eagles dare not perch.
Since every vulgar person became a gentleman,
there are many gentlemen who have become vulgar.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
Come, come, we know your meaning,
brother Gloucester:
> You envy my advancement and my friends';
God grant we never may have need of you!
Come now, we know what you're talking about, brother Gloucester:
you are envious of my promotion and that of my friends;
may God grant that we never need to look for you for anything!
RICHARD.
Meantime, God grants that I have need of you.
Our brother is imprison'd by your means,
Myself disgrac'd, and the nobility
Held in contempt; while great promotions
Are daily given to ennoble those
That scarce some two days since were worth a noble.
In the meantime, God has made it so that I need you.
My brother has been imprisonmened through your schemes,
I have been disgraced, and the nobility
held in contempt; while great promotions
are given daily to make nobles out of those
who two days ago were hardly worth a noble.
QUEEN ELIZABETH.
By Him that rais'd me to this careful
height
From that contented hap which I enjoy'd,
I never did incense his Majesty
Against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
An earnest advocate to plead for him.
My lord, you do me shameful injury
Falsely to draw me in these vile suspects.
I swear by God who raised me to this onerous position
from the contented happiness I enjoyed,
I never turned his Majesty
against the Duke of Clarence, but have been
speaking on his behalf.
My Lord, these horrible suspicions of yours
do me a great injury.
RICHARD.
You may deny that you were not the mean