The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (259 page)

YORK.

What, with five thousand men?

What, with five thousand men?

RICHARD.

Ay, with five hundred, father, for a need.

A woman-general! what should we fear?

Yes, with five hundred, father, if necessary.

A woman as general! What do we have to fear?

[A march afar off.]

EDWARD.

I hear their drums; let's set our men in order,

And issue forth and bid them battle straight.

I can hear their drums; let's organise our men,

and go straight out and challenge them to battle.

YORK.

Five men to twenty!--though the odds be great,

I doubt not, uncle, of our victory.

Many a battle have I won in France

Whenas the enemy hath been ten to one;

Why should I not now have the like success?

Five men against twenty! Although the odds are great,

I have no doubt, uncle, that we shall win.

I have won many battles in France

when we have been outnumbered ten to one;

why shouldn't I be just as successful now?

[Alarum. Exeunt.]

[Alarums. Enter RUTLAND and his TUTOR]

RUTLAND.

Ah! whither shall I fly to scape their hands?

Ah, tutor! look where bloody Clifford comes.

Ah! Where shall I run to escape them?

Ah, tutor! Look, bloodthirsty Clifford is coming.

[Enter CLIFFORD and Soldiers.]

CLIFFORD.

Chaplain, away! thy priesthood saves thy life.

As for the brat of this accursed duke

Whose father slew my father, he shall die.

Chaplain, go away! Your priesthood protects you.

As for the brat of this damned duke,

whose father killed my father, he shall die.

TUTOR.

And I, my lord, will bear him company.

Then I, my lord, will die with him.

CLIFFORD.

Soldiers, away with him!

Soldiers, take him away!

TUTOR.

Ah, Clifford, murder not this innocent child,

Lest thou be hated both of God and man.

Ah, Clifford, do not murder this innocent child,

unless you want to be hated by both God and man.

[Exit, forced off by Soldiers.]

CLIFFORD.

How now! is he dead already? Or is it fear

That makes him close his eyes?--I'll open them.

What's this! Is he already dead? Or is it fear

that makes him close his eyes? I shall open them.

RUTLAND.

So looks the pent-up lion o'er the wretch

That trembles under his devouring paws;

And so he walks, insulting o'er his prey,

And so he comes to rend his limbs asunder.--

Ah, gentle Clifford, kill me with thy sword,

And not with such a cruel threat'ning look.

Sweet Clifford, hear me speak before I die:

I am too mean a subject for thy wrath;

Be thou reveng'd on men, and let me live.

This is how the furious lion stands over the wretch

who trembles under his greedy paws;

this is how he walks, contemptuous of his victim,

and so he comes to tear his body apart.

Ah, kind Clifford, kill me with your sword,

and not with such a cruel threatening look.

Kind Clifford, listen to me before you kill me:

I am too lowly a victim for your anger;

take your revenge on men, and let me live.

CLIFFORD.

In vain thou speak'st, poor boy; my father's blood

Hath stopp'd the passage where thy words should enter.

You are begging in vain, poor boy; my ears

are deaf due to the death of my father.

RUTLAND.

Then let my father's blood open it again;

He is a man, and, Clifford, cope with him.

Then let my father's blood make you hear;

he is a man, Clifford, attack him.

CLIFFORD.

Had I thy brethren here, their lives and thine

Were not revenge sufficient for me.

No; if I digg'd up thy forefathers' graves

And hung their rotten coffins up in chains,

It could not slake mine ire nor ease my heart.

The sight of any of the house of York

Is as a fury to torment my soul;

And till I root out their accursed line

And leave not one alive, I live in hell.

Therefore--

If I had all your family here, their lives and yours

would not be enough to give me revenge.

No; if I dug up your ancestor's graves

and hung their rotting coffins up in chains,

it would not assuage my anger nor ease my pain.

Seeing anyone from the house of York

makes me so angry that it tortures my soul;

until I have destroyed the whole family,

leaving not one person alive, I am living in hell.

Therefore–

RUTLAND.

O, let me pray before I take my death!--

To thee I pray; sweet Clifford, pity me!

Oh, let me pray before I die!

I pray to you; sweet Clifford, have pity on me!

CLIFFORD.

Such pity as my rapier's point affords.

I'll give you as much pity as the point of my sword can allow.

RUTLAND.

I never did thee harm; why wilt thou slay me?

I never did you any harm; why do you want to kill me?

CLIFFORD.

Thy father hath.

Your father did me harm.

RUTLAND.

But 't was ere I was born.

Thou hast one son; for his sake pity me,

Lest in revenge thereof, sith God is just,

He be as miserably slain as I.

Ah, let me live in prison all my days,

And when I give occasion of offence,

Then let me die, for now thou hast no cause.

But that was before I was born.

You have a son; pity me for his sake,

in case God takes justified revenge and

sees that he is killed as miserably as I am.

Ah, let me live in prison for my whole life,

and when I actually do something wrong,

let me die for that, at the moment you have no justification.

CLIFFORD.

No cause?

Thy father slew my father; therefore, die. [Clifford stabs him.]

No justification?

Your father killed my father; so, you shall die.

RUTLAND.

Dii faciant laudis summa sit ista tuae! [Dies.]

May the gods make this the action for which you become most famous!

CLIFFORD.

Plantagenet! I come, Plantagenet!

And this thy son's blood cleaving to my blade

Shall rust upon my weapon till thy blood

Congeal'd with this, do make me wipe off both.

Plantagenet! I'm coming, Plantagenet!

This blood of your son's sticking to my blade

will rust on my weapon until your blood

mixes with his, when I'll wipe them both off.

[Exit.]

[Alarum. Enter YORK.]

YORK.

The army of the queen hath got the field.

My uncles both are slain in rescuing me;

And all my followers to the eager foe

Turn back and fly like ships before the wind,

Or lambs pursu'd by hunger-starved wolves.

My sons--God knows what hath bechanced them;

But this I know,--they have demean'd themselves

Like men born to renown by life or death.

Three times did Richard make a lane to me,

And thrice cried 'Courage, father! fight it out!'

And full as oft came Edward to my side

With purple falchion painted to the hilt

In blood of those that had encount'red him;

And when the hardiest warriors did retire

Richard cried 'Charge! and give no foot of ground!'

And cried 'A crown, or else a glorious tomb!

A sceptre, or an earthly sepulchre!'

With this, we charg'd again; but, out, alas!

We budg'd again, as I have seen a swan

With bootless labour swim against the tide

And spend her strength with overmatching waves.

[A short alarum within.]

Ah, hark! the fatal followers do pursue,

And I am faint and cannot fly their fury;

And were I strong, I would not shun their fury.

The sands are number'd that make up my life;

Here must I stay, and here my life must end.--

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD,

NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers]

Come, bloody Clifford, rough Northumberland,

I dare your quenchless fury to more rage.

I am your butt, and I abide your shot.

The Queen's army has won the battle.

Both my uncles have been killed trying to rescue me;

and all my followers have turned away from the pressing

enemy and fled like ships running with the wind,

or lambs pursued by starving wolves.

My sons–God knows what has happened to them;

but I know this–they behaved themselves

like men who were born to live or die gloriously.

Three times Richard cut through to me,

and three times he cried out “Courage, father! Keep fighting!"