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

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The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 40

by William Shakespeare


  Of my Lord Hastings' late imprisonment.

  So you will deny that you were not the reason

  for the recent imprisonment of my Lord Hastings.

  RIVERS.

  She may, my lord; for-

  She can, my lord; for–

  RICHARD.

  She may, Lord Rivers? Why, who knows

  not so?

  She may do more, sir, than denying that:

  She may help you to many fair preferments

  And then deny her aiding hand therein,

  And lay those honours on your high desert.

  What may she not? She may-ay, marry, may she-

  She can, Lord Rivers? Why, everybody knows that.

  She may do more than deny that, sir:

  she may help you to get many fine promotions

  and then deny that she gave you a helping hand,

  and say that you earned all those honours yourself.

  RIVERS.

  What, marry, may she?

  May she indeed?

  RICHARD.

  What, marry, may she? Marry with a king,

  A bachelor, and a handsome stripling too.

  Iwis your grandam had a worser match.

  She may indeed. She can marry a King,

  a bachelor, a handsome lad too.

  I wish your grandmother had a lower match.

  QUEEN ELIZABETH.

  My Lord of Gloucester, I have too long

  borne

  Your blunt upbraidings and your bitter scoffs.

  By heaven, I will acquaint his Majesty

  Of those gross taunts that oft I have endur'd.

  I had rather be a country servant-maid

  Than a great queen with this condition-

  To be so baited, scorn'd, and stormed at.

  Enter old QUEEN MARGARET, behind

  Small joy have I in being England's Queen.

  My Lord of Gloucester, for too long I have tolerated

  your blunt criticism and your bitter contempt.

  By heaven, I shall tell his Majesty

  of all those horrible taunts I have had to put up with.

  I would rather be a serving maid in the country

  than a great Queen, if it means having to

  be treated with such angry contempt.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  And less'ned be that small, God, I

  beseech Him!

  Thy honour, state, and seat, is due to me.

  And I pray to God that he will stop!

  Your honour, royalty and position are all due to me.

  RICHARD.

  What! Threat you me with telling of the

  King?

  Tell him and spare not. Look what I have said

  I will avouch't in presence of the King.

  I dare adventure to be sent to th' Tow'r.

  'Tis time to speak-my pains are quite forgot.

  What! Are you threatening me by saying you will tell the King?

  Tell him, don't spare him. Everything I have says

  I will swear to in the presence of the King.

  I will chance being sent to the tower.

  It is time to speak–my labours have been quite forgotten.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Out, devil! I do remember them to

  well:

  Thou kill'dst my husband Henry in the Tower,

  And Edward, my poor son, at Tewksbury.

  Damn you, devil! I remember my labours all too well:

  you killed my husband Henry in the Tower,

  and Edward, my poor son, at Tewkesbury.

  RICHARD.

  Ere you were queen, ay, or your husband

  King,

  I was a pack-horse in his great affairs,

  A weeder-out of his proud adversaries,

  A liberal rewarder of his friends;

  To royalize his blood I spent mine own.

  Before you were ever Queen, or your husband King,

  I was his dogsbody in his great affairs,

  I weeded out his proud enemies,

  liberally rewarded his friends;

  to make his blood royal I spilled my own.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Ay, and much better blood than his or

  thine.

  Yes, and much better blood than his or yours.

  RICHARD.

  In all which time you and your husband Grey

  Were factious for the house of Lancaster;

  And, Rivers, so were you. Was not your husband

  In Margaret's battle at Saint Albans slain?

  Let me put in your minds, if you forget,

  What you have been ere this, and what you are;

  Withal, what I have been, and what I am.

  And all that time you and your husband Grey

  were on the side of the house of Lancaster;

  and, Rivers, so were you. Wasn't your husband

  killed fighting for Margaret at St Albans?

  Let me remind you, if you've forgotten,

  what you were before now, and what you are now;

  also, what I have been, and what I am.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  A murd'rous villain, and so still thou art.

  A murderous villain, and that's what you still are.

  RICHARD.

  Poor Clarence did forsake his father, Warwick,

  Ay, and forswore himself-which Jesu pardon!-

  Poor Clarence abandoned his father, Warwick,

  yes, and perjured himself–may Jesus pardon him!–

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Which God revenge!

  May God avenge him!

  RICHARD.

  To fight on Edward's party for the crown;

  And for his meed, poor lord, he is mewed up.

  I would to God my heart were flint like Edward's,

  Or Edward's soft and pitiful like mine.

  I am too childish-foolish for this world.

  To fight on Edward's side for the Crown;

  and for his reward he is imprisoned.

  I wish to God my heart was made of flint like Edward's,

  or that Edward's was as soft and full of pity as mine.

  I am too innocent for this world.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Hie thee to hell for shame and leave this

  world,

  Thou cacodemon; there thy kingdom is.

  Go to hell in shame and leave this world,

  you evil spirit; that's where your kingdom is.

  RIVERS.

  My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days

  Which here you urge to prove us enemies,

  We follow'd then our lord, our sovereign king.

  So should we you, if you should be our king.

  My Lord of Gloucester, in those busy days

  which you say caused us to be your enemies,

  we followed our Lord, our sovereign king.

  We should follow you, if you were king.

  RICHARD.

  If I should be! I had rather be a pedlar.

  Far be it from my heart, the thought thereof!

  If I were! I would rather be a beggar.

  The thought of being king is far away from my heart!

  QUEEN ELIZABETH.

  As little joy, my lord, as you suppose

  You should enjoy were you this country's king,

  As little joy you may suppose in me

  That I enjoy, being the Queen thereof.

  You imagine, my lord, that you would get

  little joy out of being the king of this country,

  you may imagine I get the same lack of joy

  from being the Queen of it.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  As little joy enjoys the Queen thereof;

  For I am she, and altogether joyless.

  I can no longer hold me patient. [Advancing]

  Hear me, you wrangling pirates, that fall out

  In sharing that which you have pill'd from me.

  Which of you trembles
not that looks on me?

  If not that, I am Queen, you bow like subjects,

  Yet that, by you depos'd, you quake like rebels?

  Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

  She gets as little joy from it;

  for I am her, and I have no joy at all.

  I can no longer keep my patience.

  Listen to me, you arguing thieves, who are falling out

  in sharing what you have stolen from me.

  Which of you can look upon me without trembling?

  It's either because you are awed by me as my subjects

  or scared of me because you are rebels.

  Ah, gentle villain, do not turn away!

  RICHARD.

  Foul wrinkled witch, what mak'st thou in my

  sight?

  Foul wrinkled witch, what are you doing in my presence?

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  But repetition of what thou hast marr'd,

  That will I make before I let thee go.

  I am just explaining the damage you have done,

  that I will make you pay for before I let you go.

  RICHARD.

  Wert thou not banished on pain of death?

  Weren't you banished on pain of death?

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  I was; but I do find more pain in

  banishment

  Than death can yield me here by my abode.

  A husband and a son thou ow'st to me;

  And thou a kingdom; all of you allegiance.

  This sorrow that I have by right is yours;

  And all the pleasures you usurp are mine.

  I was; but I find the punishment more painful

  than any pain death could give me in my own home.

  You owe me a husband and a son;

  and you a kingdom; all of you loyalty.

  The sorrow that I have is rightfully yours;

  and all the pleasures you have stolen are mine.

  RICHARD.

  The curse my noble father laid on thee,

  When thou didst crown his warlike brows with paper

  And with thy scorns drew'st rivers from his eyes,

  And then to dry them gav'st the Duke a clout

  Steep'd in the faultless blood of pretty Rutland-

  His curses then from bitterness of soul

  Denounc'd against thee are all fall'n upon thee;

  And God, not we, hath plagu'd thy bloody deed.

  The curse my noble father put on you,

  when you put a paper crown on his soldier's head

  and with your hatred drew tears from his eyes,

  and then to dry them attacked the Duke

  with the murder of the good blameless Rutland–

  the curses he then gave you derived from

  the bitterness of his soul have now fallen upon you;

  and it's God, not me, who has punished your bloody deed.

  QUEEN ELIZABETH.

  So just is God to right the innocent.

  So God justly revenges the innocent.

  HASTINGS.

  O, 'twas the foulest deed to slay that babe,

  And the most merciless that e'er was heard of!

  Oh, it was the foulest deed to kill that baby,

  the most merciless that has ever been heard of!

  RIVERS.

  Tyrants themselves wept when it was reported.

  Tyrants wept when they heard of it.

  DORSET.

  No man but prophesied revenge for it.

  Everybody said punishment would come for it.

  BUCKINGHAM.

  Northumberland, then present, wept to see it.

  Northumberland, who was there, wept to see it.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  What, were you snarling all before I came,

  Ready to catch each other by the throat,

  And turn you all your hatred now on me?

  Did York's dread curse prevail so much with heaven

  That Henry's death, my lovely Edward's death,

  Their kingdom's loss, my woeful banishment,

  Should all but answer for that peevish brat?

  Can curses pierce the clouds and enter heaven?

  Why then, give way, dull clouds, to my quick curses!

  Though not by war, by surfeit die your king,

  As ours by murder, to make him a king!

  Edward thy son, that now is Prince of Wales,

  For Edward our son, that was Prince of Wales,

  Die in his youth by like untimely violence!

  Thyself a queen, for me that was a queen,

  Outlive thy glory, like my wretched self!

  Long mayest thou live to wail thy children's death,

  And see another, as I see thee now,

  Deck'd in thy rights, as thou art stall'd in mine!

  Long die thy happy days before thy death;

  And, after many length'ned hours of grief,

  Die neither mother, wife, nor England's Queen!

  Rivers and Dorset, you were standers by,

  And so wast thou, Lord Hastings, when my son

  Was stabb'd with bloody daggers. God, I pray him,

  That none of you may live his natural age,

  But by some unlook'd accident cut off!

  What? Were you all snarling at each other before I came,

  ready to grab each other by the throat,

  and now you turn all your hatred on me?

  Did York's dreadful curse have so much influence with heaven

  that the death of Henry and my lovely Edward,

  the loss of their kingdom, my sorrowful exile,

  all have to happen to pay for that stroppy brat?

  Can curses get through the clouds and into heaven?

  Well then, dull clouds, get out of the way of my vigorous curses:

  may your king die of excess, not through war,

  as mine did of murder, to make him a king.

  Edward your son, who is now Prince of Wales,

  may he die in his youth through the same untimely violence

  as that which Edward my son, who was Prince of Wales.

  You, a Queen, in revenge for me who was a Queen,

  may you outlive your glory as I wretchedly have:

  may you live long to bemoan the death of your children,

  and see someone else, as I see you now,

  taking your rightful place, as you have taken mine;

  may your happiness die long before your death,

  and after many long hours of grief may you

  die neither a mother, a wife, nor the Queen of England.

  Rivers and Dorset, you were bystanders,

  and so were you, Lord Hastings, when my son

  was stabbed with bloody daggers. I pray to God

  that none of you may live to a normal age,

  but will be cut off by some unexpected injury.

  RICHARD.

  Have done thy charm, thou hateful wither'd

  hag.

  Finish with your spell, you hateful withered hag.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  And leave out thee? Stay, dog, for thou

  shalt hear me.

  If heaven have any grievous plague in store

  Exceeding those that I can wish upon thee,

  O, let them keep it till thy sins be ripe,

  And then hurl down their indignation

  On thee, the troubler of the poor world's peace!

  The worm of conscience still be-gnaw thy soul!

  Thy friends suspect for traitors while thou liv'st,

  And take deep traitors for thy dearest friends!

  No sleep close up that deadly eye of thine,

  Unless it be while some tormenting dream

  Affrights thee with a hell of ugly devils!

  Thou elvish-mark'd, abortive, rooting hog,

  Thou that wast seal'd in thy nativity

  The slave of nature and the son of hell,

  Thou slander of thy heavy mother's womb,
<
br />   Thou loathed issue of thy father's loins,

  Thou rag of honour, thou detested-

  And leave you out? Wait, dog, for you will hear me.

  If heaven has any terrible suffering in store

  worse than that which I can wish upon you,

  oh, let them keep it until your sins have reached their height,

  and then let them hurl down their punishment

  on you, who troubles the peace of this poor world!

  May the worm of conscience gnaw away at your soul!

  May you suspect your friends of treachery while you are live,

  and may your dearest friends be traitors!

  May you never close your murderous eyes in sleep,

  unless you suffer from terrible dreams

  about a hell full of awful devils.

  You are marked as a devil, you abortive snuffling pig,

  who was marked at birth

  as the slave of nature, and the son of health;

  you are an insult to your poor mother's womb,

  you are a hated child of your father's blood,

  stained honour, you hated–

  RICHARD.

  Margaret!

  Margaret!

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Richard!

  Richard!

  RICHARD.

  Ha?

  What?

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  I call thee not.

  I didn't call you.

  RICHARD.

  I cry thee mercy then, for I did think

  That thou hadst call'd me all these bitter names.

  Then I must beg your pardon, for I thought

  that you called me all those bitter names.

  QUEEN MARGARET.

  Why, so I did, but look'd for no reply.

  O, let me make the period to my curse!

 

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