Ay, night by night, in studying good for England!
That doit that e'er I wrested from the king,
Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
Be brought against me at my trial-day!
No; many a pound of mine own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
Have I dispursed to the garrisons,
And never ask'd for restitution.
Is that what people think? Who are those who think it?
I never took any pay away from soldiers,
and I never had a penny in bribes from France.
I swear by God, I have stayed awake night
after night after night, trying to do my best for England!
Any coin that I ever stole from the King,
a single groat that I kept for my own use,
let it be brought to my trial today!
No; I gave many pounds out of my own pocket,
as I didn't want to tax the needy common people,
to fund the garrisons,
and I never asked for it back.
Cardinal.
It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
Well you would say that, my lord.
Gloster.
I say no more than truth, so help me God!
I'm just telling the truth, I swear to God!
YORK.
In your protectorship you did devise
Strange tortures for offenders never heard of,
That England was defam'd by tyranny.
When you were Regent you invented
strange tortures for offenders never heard of before,
which shamed the reputation of England.
GLOSTER.
Why, 't is well known that, whiles I was protector,
Pity was all the fault that was in me;
For I should melt at an offender's tears,
And lowly words were ransom for their fault.
Unless it were a bloody murtherer,
Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers,
I never gave them condign punishment.
Murther indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
Above the felon or what trespass else.
Why, it's common knowledge that, while I was Regent,
My only fault was too much pity;
I would melt if an offender cried,
and humble words were enough to make me excuse their crime.
Unless the person was a bloody murderer,
or a foul thief who stole from poor travellers,
I never gave out the full punishment.
I did indeed torture people for murder, that bloody sin,
more than for any other crime.
SUFFOLK.
My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd;
But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
I do arrest you in his highness' name,
And here commit you to my lord cardinal
To keep until your further time of trial.
My Lord, these faults are easily and quickly answered;
but there are greater crimes which you are charged with,
which you can't so easily excuse yourself for.
I arrest you in the name of his Highness,
and give you into the guardianship of my Lord Cardinal
to keep you in custody until you come to trial.
KING.
My Lord of Gloster, 't is my special hope
That you will clear yourself from all suspect;
My conscience tells me you are innocent.
My Lord of Gloucester, I very much hope
that you will clear yourself of all these allegations;
my heart tells me you are innocent.
GLOSTER.
Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous.
Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,
And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,
And equity exil'd your highness' land.
I know their complot is to have my life,
And if my death might make this island happy
And prove the period of their tyranny,
I would expend it with all willingness;
But mine is made the prologue to their play,
For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril,
Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back,
By false accuse doth level at my life.--
And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
Causeless have laid disgraces on my head
And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up
My liefest liege to be mine enemy.--
Ay, all of you have laid your heads together--
Myself had notice of your conventicles--
And all to make away my guiltless life.
I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
The ancient proverb will be well effected,--
'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.'
Ah, gracious Lord, these are dangerous days.
Goodness is suffocated by foul ambition,
and kindness is driven away by anger;
lying rules over everything,
and there is no fairness in your Highness' land.
I know that they are plotting to take my life,
and if my death would make this island happy
and put an end to their tyranny,
I would willingly give my life;
my death is just the prologue to their play,
for thousands more, who don't know they're in danger,
will die without putting an end to their foul plot.
Beaufort's red sparkling eyes betray the evil in his heart,
and Suffolk's frowns show his angry hatred;
when Buckingham speaks one can hear
the load of jealousy that lies in his heart;
and persistent York, who reaches for the moon,
whose too ambitious arm I have restrained,
aims to take my life with false accusations.
And you, my royal lady, with the rest,
have for no reason tried to disgrace me,
and made your best efforts to stir up
my dearest Lord to be my enemy.
Yes, all of you have put your heads together–
I had warning of your meetings–
and you all want to take away my guiltless life.
I won't be lacking in false witnesses against me,
nor in quantity of treasonous activities to add to my guilt;
the ancient proverb will be well proved:
“You can quickly find a stick to beat a dog with."
CARDINAL.
My liege, his railing is intolerable;
If those that care to keep your royal person
From treason's secret knife and traitor's rage
Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,
And the offender granted scope of speech,
'T will make them cool in zeal unto your grace.
My Lord, his ranting is intolerable;
if those who care about keeping your Highness
safe from treason and the anger of traitors
are going to be criticised and shouted at,
with the offender being given the right to speak,
it will make them less keen to work for your Grace.
SUFFOLK.
Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here
With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd,
As if she had suborned some to swear
False allegations to o'erthrow his state?
Hasn't he insulted our royal lady here
with disgraceful words, disguised with learning,
as if she had bribe some people to swear
to false allegations to overthrow him?
QUEEN.
But I can give the loser leave to chide.
But I'll give the loser permission to criticise.
GLOSTER.
Far truer spoke than meant; I lose, indeed.
Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false!
And well such losers may have leave to speak.
You speak far more truly than you mean; I do indeed lose.
Damn the winners, for they have cheated me!
So losers like me should certainly be allowed to speak.
BUCKINGHAM.
He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day.--
Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.
He'll twist everything and keep us here all day.
Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.
CARDINAL.
Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him sure.
Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him carefully.
GLOSTER.
Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch
Before his legs be firm to bear his body.
Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side,
And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.
Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were!
For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear.
Ah, so King Henry throws away his crutch
before his legs are strong enough to carry his body.
So your shepherd is driven away from you,
and the wolves are fighting to see who bites you first.
Oh, if only my fears were groundless! If only they were!
For, good King Henry, I fear your downfall.
[Exit, guarded.]
KING.
My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best,
Do or undo, as if ourself were here.
My Lords, do whatever seems best to you,
do it as if I was here to give permission.
QUEEN.
What, will your highness leave the parliament?
What, is your Highness going to leave the Parliament?
KING.
Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,
My body round engirt with misery,
For what's more miserable than discontent?--
Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth, and loyalty;
And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
That e'er I prov'd thee false or fear'd thy faith.
What lowering star now envies thy estate,
That these great lords and Margaret our queen
Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
Thou never didst them wrong nor no man wrong;
And as the butcher takes away the calf
And binds the wretch and beats it when it strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house,
Even so remorseless have they borne him hence;
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling's loss,
Even so myself bewails good Gloster's case
With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes
Look after him, and cannot do him good,
So mighty are his vowed enemies.
His fortunes I will weep and 'twixt each groan
Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloster he is none.'
Yes, Margaret; my heart is drowning in grief,
and the flood begins to flow from my eyes,
my body is surrounded with misery,
for what's more miserable than unhappiness?
Ah, uncle Humphrey! I can see in your face
the example of honour, truth and loyalty;
and, good Humphrey, the time has not yet come
when I've ever seen or feared your disloyalty.
What falling star hates your position
so that these great lords and our Queen Margaret
tried to take away your harmless life?
You never did them or any man wrong;
they have dragged him away from here
as the butcher takes away the calf
and ties it up and beats it when it strays,
taking it into the bloody slaughterhouse;
and I am like its mother, running up and down
lowing, looking in the direction her innocent
young one went, that's how I grieve for
good Gloucester, with sad unhelpful tears, I
look after him with dimmed eyes and cannot
do him any good, his sworn enemies are so mighty.
I will weep for his misfortunes and between groans
say “Who is a traitor? Gloucester is not."
[Exeunt all but Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk
and York; Somerset remains apart.]
QUEEN.
Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams.
Henry my lord is cold in great affairs,
Too full of foolish pity, and Gloster's show
Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers,
Or as the snake roll'd in a flowering bank,
With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child
That for the beauty thinks it excellent.
Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I--
And yet herein I judge mine own wit good--
This Gloster should be quickly rid the world,
To rid us from the fear we have of him.
Free lords, cold snow melts in the hot sun.
My Lord Henry is useless in great matters,
too full of foolish pity, and Gloucester's display
hypnotises him, like the sad looking crocodile
that traps pitying passengers with its looks,
or like the snake curled up in a bank of flowers,
with shining chequered skin, which bites a child
who was trying to admire its beauty.
Believe me, lords, if there were no wiser persons than I–
and I think in this matter my thoughts are good–
this Gloucester would be leaving this life quickly,
to free us from the fear we have of him.
CARDINAL.
That he should die is worthy policy,
But yet we want a colour for his death,
'T is meet he be condemn'd by course of law.
It's quite right that he should die,
but we still need a reason for his death,
it would be proper for him to die lawfully.
SUFFOLK.
But, in my mind, that were no policy.
The king will labour still to save his life;
The commons haply rise to save his life,
And yet we have but trivial argument,
More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death.
But, to my mind, that is not sensible.
The King will still work to save his life;
the people might well rise up to save him,
and at the moment we only have trivial arguments,
nothing more than mistrust, to say that he should die.
YORK.
So that, by this, you would not have him die.
So, it seems, you don't want him to die.
SUFFOLK.
Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I!
Oh York, there's no man alive who wants him to die as much as I do!
YORK.
'T is York that hath more reason for his death.--
But, my lord cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk,
Say as you th
ink, and speak it from your souls,
Were 't not all one an empty eagle were set
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector?
York is the one who has more reason to want him dead.
But, my Lord Cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk,
say what you think, speak from your hearts,
wasn't it like asking a hungry eagle
to guard the chicken against the hungry kite,
to make Duke Humphrey the King's protector?
QUEEN.
So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
That would guarantee the death of the poor chicken.
SUFFOLK.
Madam, 't is true; and were 't not madness, then,
To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
Who being accus'd a crafty murtherer,
His guilt should be but idly posted over,
Because his purpose is not executed.
No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
By nature prov'd an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood,
As Humphrey, prov'd by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets how to slay him.
Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,
Sleeping or waking, 't is no matter how,
So he be dead; for that is good deceit
Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
Madam, it's true; and so wasn't it madness
to ask the fox to be the shepherd?
He's been accused of being a crafty murderer,
so we shouldn't just ignore his guilt
because he hasn't carried out his plans.
No; let him die, as he is a fox,
a natural enemy to the flock,
before his chops are stained with crimson blood,
that's how Humphrey is in relation to my Lord.
And let's not quibble about how he should be killed,
whether it's with traps, tricks or cunning,
asleep or awake, it doesn't matter how,
as long as he dies; it is good policy to
strike down the criminal before he has a chance to act.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 144