The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (60 page)

BOOK: The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated)
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to stop talking with the noble duke.

 

CLARENCE.

We know thy charge, Brakenbury, and will

obey.

 

We know your orders, Brakenbury, and will obey.

 

RICHARD.

We are the Queen's abjects and must obey.

Brother, farewell; I will unto the King;

And whatsoe'er you will employ me in-

Were it to call King Edward's widow sister-

I will perform it to enfranchise you.

Meantime, this deep disgrace in brotherhood

Touches me deeper than you can imagine.

 

Everybody must submit to the Queen.

Brother, farewell; I will go to the king;

and whatever service you want from me–

if you asked me to call King Edward's widow my sister–

I will do it to win your freedom.

In the meanwhile, this insult to our family

affects me more than you can imagine.

 

CLARENCE.

I know it pleaseth neither of us well.

 

I know neither of us are happy about it.

 

RICHARD.

Well, your imprisonment shall not be long;

I will deliver or else lie for you.

Meantime, have patience.

 

Well, you won't be locked up for long;

I will free you or I'll take your place.

In the meantime, be patient.

 

CLARENCE.

I must perforce. Farewell.

Exeunt CLARENCE, BRAKENBURY, and guard

 

I have no choice. Farewell.

 

RICHARD.

Go tread the path that thou shalt ne'er return.

Simple, plain Clarence, I do love thee so

That I will shortly send thy soul to heaven,

If heaven will take the present at our hands.

But who comes here? The new-delivered Hastings?

 

Go and walk the path from which you will never return.

Plain, simple Clarence, I love you so

that I will shortly send your soul to heaven,

if heaven will take the gift from me.

But who is this? The newly freed Hastings?

 

Enter LORD HASTINGS

 

HASTINGS.

Good time of day unto my gracious lord!

 

A very good day to my gracious lord!

 

RICHARD.

As much unto my good Lord Chamberlain!

Well are you welcome to the open air.

How hath your lordship brook'd imprisonment?

 

And the same to my good Lord Chamberlain!

I'm pleased to welcome you to freedom.

How did your lordship cope with imprisonment?

 

HASTINGS.

With patience, noble lord, as prisoners must;

But I shall live, my lord, to give them thanks

That were the cause of my imprisonment.

 

Patiently, noble lord, as prisoners have to;

but I shall make sure I repay those, my lord,

who caused my imprisonment.

 

RICHARD.

No doubt, no doubt; and so shall Clarence too;

For they that were your enemies are his,

And have prevail'd as much on him as you.

 

No doubt, no doubt; and Clarence will as well;

for those who were your enemies are his,

and have treated him just as badly as you.

 

HASTINGS.

More pity that the eagles should be mew'd

Whiles kites and buzzards prey at liberty.

 

It's a great shame that eagles get locked up

while kites and buzzards are free to prey.

 

RICHARD.

What news abroad?

 

What news is there abroad?

 

HASTINGS.

No news so bad abroad as this at home:

The King is sickly, weak, and melancholy,

And his physicians fear him mightily.

 

There's no news as bad as the news at home:

the King is sickly, weak and depressed,

and his doctors are very worried for him.

 

RICHARD.

Now, by Saint John, that news is bad indeed.

O, he hath kept an evil diet long

And overmuch consum'd his royal person!

'Tis very grievous to be thought upon.

Where is he? In his bed?

 

Now, by St John, that news is certainly bad.

His lifestyle has been poor for too long,

he's worn out his royal body with excess!

It's very sad to think of.

Where is he? In his bed?

 

HASTINGS.

He is.

 

He is.

 

RICHARD.

Go you before, and I will follow you.

Exit HASTINGS

He cannot live, I hope, and must not die

Till George be pack'd with posthorse up to heaven.

I'll in to urge his hatred more to Clarence

With lies well steel'd with weighty arguments;

And, if I fail not in my deep intent,

Clarence hath not another day to live;

Which done, God take King Edward to his mercy,

And leave the world for me to bustle in!

For then I'll marry Warwick's youngest daughter.

What though I kill'd her husband and her father?

The readiest way to make the wench amends

Is to become her husband and her father;

The which will I-not all so much for love

As for another secret close intent

By marrying her which I must reach unto.

But yet I run before my horse to market.

Clarence still breathes; Edward still lives and reigns;

When they are gone, then must I count my gains.

 

You go on ahead, and I will follow you.

 

I hope he will not live, but he must not die

before George has been hastened up to heaven.

I'll encourage Clarence's hatred of him

with lies backed up with stern arguments;

and, if my cunning plans succeed,

Clarence does not have another day to live;

once that's done, may God take King Edward also

and leave the world free for me.

Then I will marry Warwick's youngest daughter–

who cares if I killed her husband and her father?

The best way to make it up to the girl

would be to become her husband, and her father:

which I will, not so much for love

as for another secret plan,

which I need to marry her to fulfil.

But I'm getting ahead of myself:

 Clarence is still alive, so is Edward and he is still king;

I must count my gains when they are gone.

 

Exit

 

 

London. Another street

 

Enter corpse of KING HENRY THE SIXTH, with halberds to guard it;

LADY ANNE being the mourner, attended by TRESSEL and BERKELEY

 

ANNE.

Set down, set down your honourable load-

If honour may be shrouded in a hearse;

Whilst I awhile obsequiously lament

Th' untimely fall of virtuous Lancaster.

Poor key-cold figure of a holy king!

Pale ashes of the house of Lancaster!

Thou bloodless remnant of that royal blood!

Be it lawful that I invocate thy ghost

To hear the lamentations of poor Anne,

Wife to thy Edward, to thy slaughtered son,

Stabb'd by the self-same hand that made these wounds.

Lo, in these windows that let forth thy life

I pour the helpless balm of my poor eyes.

O, cursed be the hand that made these holes!

Cursed the heart that had the heart to do it!

Cursed the blood that let this blood from hence!

More direful hap betide that hated wretch

That makes us wretched by the death of thee

Than I can wish to adders, spiders, toads,

Or any creeping venom'd thing that lives!

If ever he have child, abortive be it,

Prodigious, and untimely brought to light,

Whose ugly and unnatural aspect

May fright the hopeful mother at the view,

And that be heir to his unhappiness!

If ever he have wife, let her be made

More miserable by the death of him

Than I am made by my young lord and thee!

Come, now towards Chertsey with your holy load,

Taken from Paul's to be interred there;

And still as you are weary of this weight

Rest you, whiles I lament King Henry's corse.

[The bearers take up the coffin]

 

Put down your honourable burden

(if one can be found on a hearse)

while I set the example of mourning

for the untimely death of virtuous Lancaster.

Poor stone dead image of a holy King,

the pale ashes of the house of Lancaster,

you bloodless remains of that royal line:

May it be lawful for me to plead with your ghost

to hear the sorrowing of poor Anne,

the wife of your Edward, your slaughtered son,

stabbed by the same hand that wounded you.

Into these wounds that killed you

I pour my useless tears.

Curses on the hand that made these wounds;

cursed be the heart that could bring itself to do it;

May the blood of the bloodletter be cursed.

I wish for worse to happen to that horrible wretch,

who has made us wretched with your death,

than I wish to adders, spiders, toads,

or any creeping poisonous thing alive.

If he ever has a child, may it be an abortion:

monstrous, born too early,

with an ugly unnatural look

which terrifies the mother to see it,

and may it inherit his unhappiness.

If he ever marries, let his death

make her more miserable than

I am made by that of my young lord, and you.

Come, bring your holy burden to Chertsey,

taken from St Paul's to be buried there;

and whenever you get tired of the weight

you can rest, while I lament for King Henry's body.

 

Enter RICHARD

 

RICHARD.

Stay, you that bear the corse, and set it down.

 

Wait, you carrying that corpse, put it down.

 

ANNE.

What black magician conjures up this fiend

To stop devoted charitable deeds?

 

What black magician has summoned up this devil

to stop kind and devoted deeds?

 

RICHARD.

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