The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (52 page)

Will you grant it?

BOLINGBROKE.

Name it, fair cousin.

Name it, fair cousin.

KING RICHARD.

Fair cousin! I am greater than a king;

For when I was a king, my flatterers

Were then but subjects; being now a subject,

I have a king here to my flatterer.

Being so great, I have no need to beg.

Fair cousin! I am greater than a king;

for when I was a king, my flatterers

were just my subjects; now I am a subject,

I have a king here as my flatterer.

Being so great, I don't need to beg.

BOLINGBROKE.

Yet ask.

Just ask.

KING RICHARD.

And shall I have?

And shall I have it?

BOLINGBROKE.

You shall.

You shall.

KING RICHARD.

Then give me leave to go.

Then let me leave.

BOLINGBROKE.

Whither?

To go where?

KING RICHARD.

Whither you will, so I were from your sights.

Wherever you want, to get me out of your sight.

BOLINGBROKE.

Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.

Go, some of you escort him to the Tower.

KING RICHARD.

O, good! Convey! Conveyers are you all,

That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

O, good! Escort! You are all escorts,

all swiftly promoted due to the fall of a true king.

Exeunt KING RICHARD, some Lords and a Guard

BOLINGBROKE.

On Wednesday next we solemnly set down

Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.

I set aside next Wednesday for my

solemn coronation. Lords, make your preparations.

Exeunt all but the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, the

BISHOP OF CARLISLE, and AUMERLE

ABBOT.

A woeful pageant have we here beheld.

We have seen a sorry sight here.

CARLISLE.

The woe's to come; the children yet unborn

Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.

The sorrow is yet to come; children not yet born

will suffer as a result of today's events.

AUMERLE.

You holy clergymen, is there no plot

To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?

You holy clergymen, don't you have a way

to remove this stain from the country?

ABBOT.

My lord,

Before I freely speak my mind herein,

You shall not only take the sacrament

To bury mine intents, but also to effect

Whatever I shall happen to devise.

I see your brows are full of discontent,

Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.

Come home with me to supper; I will lay

A plot shall show us all a merry day.

My lord,

before I freely speak my mind about that,

you will not only swear by the sacrament

that you will keep my plans secret, but also that

you will do whatever I invent.

I see that you are frowning in anger,

your heart is full of sorrow, and your eyes are full of tears.

Come home with me to supper; I will outline

a plot which will make us all happy.

Exeunt

London. A street leading to the Tower

Enter the QUEEN, with her attendants

QUEEN.

This way the King will come; this is the way

To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,

To whose flint bosom my condemned lord

Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke.

Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth

Have any resting for her true King's queen.

Enter KING RICHARD and Guard

But soft, but see, or rather do not see,

My fair rose wither. Yet look up, behold,

That you in pity may dissolve to dew,

And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.

Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand;

Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,

And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn,

Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,

When triumph is become an alehouse guest?

The king will come this way; this is the way

to Julius Caesar's evil tower,

to which my condemned lord

has been sent as a prisoner by haughty Bolingbroke.

Let's rest here, if there is any rest anywhere

on this rebellious earth for the queen of a true King.

But look, or rather don't look, there

is my fair rose withered.But look up, look,

you who dissolve into pity like dew,

and wash him clean again with the tears of true love.

Ah, you, you are like the ruins of old Troy;

you model of honour, you tomb of King Richard,

you are not King Richard; you beautiful inn,

why should hard faced grief visit you,

when triumph visits every common alehouse?

KING RICHARD.

Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,

To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul,

To think our former state a happy dream;

From which awak'd, the truth of what we are

Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,

To grim Necessity; and he and

Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,

And cloister thee in some religious house.

Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,

Which our profane hours here have thrown down.

Don't grieve so, fair woman, do not

write me off so soon. Learn, good soul,

to think of our former position as a happy dream;

having woken up, we can see the truth of

what we are: I am the sworn brother, my sweet,

of grim necessity; and he and I

will be together until death. Take yourself to France,

and retreat into some religious house.

We must work to win a new crown in heaven,

as we have lost the one we had on earth.

QUEEN.

What, is my Richard both in shape and mind

Transform'd and weak'ned? Hath Bolingbroke depos'd

Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart?

The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage

To be o'erpow'r'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,

Take the correction mildly, kiss the rod,

And fawn on rage with base humility,

Which art a lion and the king of beasts?

What, has my Richard been transformed and weakened

both in body and mind? Has Bolingbroke overthrown

your intellect? Has he been in your heart?

The dying lion puts out his paw

and wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage

at his downfall; are you going to be like a schoolboy,

taking your punishment mildly, kissing the cane,

and bow down to rage with low humbleness,

you who are a lion and the king of beasts?

KING RICHARD.

A king of beasts, indeed! If aught but beasts,

I had been still a happy king of men.

Good sometimes queen, prepare thee hence for France.

Think I am dead, and that even here thou takest,

As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.

In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire

With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales

Of woeful ages long ago betid;

And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs

Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,

And send the hearers weeping to their beds;

For why, the senseless brands will sympathize

The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,

And in compassion weep the fire out;

And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,

For the deposing of a rightful king.

A king of beasts, indeed! If it had only been of beasts,

I would still be a happy king of men.

My good once upon a time Queen, go to France.

Imagine that I am dead, and that even now you are making

your last living farewell to me, as if you were at my deathbed.

In thedull nights of winter sit by the fire

with good old people, and let them tell you stories

of sad things which happened long ago;

and before you say good night, to cap their sorry tales

tell them of my sad story,

and send the listeners off weeping to their beds;

because the unfeeling sticks will sympathise

with the heavy words your tongue shall speak,

and out of pity they will put out the fire;

and some will mourn with ashes, black as coal,

the overthrow of a rightful king.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND attended

NORTHUMBERLAND.

My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd;

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.

And, madam, there is order ta'en for you:

With all swift speed you must away to France.

My lord, Bolingbroke has changed his mind;

you must go to Pomfret, not to the tower.

And, madam, arrangements have been made for you:

you must go as quickly as possible to France.

KING RICHARD.