The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (89 page)

Tell me, thou villain slave, where are my children?

Are you hiding your forehead with a golden crown,

where you should be branded, if there was any justice,

with the slaughter of the Prince who owned that Crown,

and the terrible death of my poor sons and brothers?

Tell me, you slavish villain, where are my children?

DUCHESS.

Thou toad, thou toad, where is thy brother

Clarence?

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?

You toad, you toad, where is your brother Clarence?

And little Ned Plantagenet, his son?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Where is the gentle Rivers, Vaughan,

Grey?

Where are the gentle Rivers, Vaughan and Grey?

DUCHESS.

Where is kind Hastings?

Where is kind Hastings?

KING RICHARD.

A flourish, trumpets! Strike alarum, drums!

Let not the heavens hear these tell-tale women

Rail on the Lord's anointed. Strike, I say!

[Flourish. Alarums]

Either be patient and entreat me fair,

Or with the clamorous report of war

Thus will I drown your exclamations.

Blow the trumpets! Sound the alarm, drums!

Don't let the heavens hear these tell-tale women

insulting the Lord's anointed. Sound, I say!

Either be calm and speak to me nicely,

or I will drown out everything you say

with these warlike noises.

DUCHESS.

Art thou my son?

Are you my son?

KING RICHARD.

Ay, I thank God, my father, and yourself.

Yes, I thank God, I am made from my father and yourself.

DUCHESS.

Then patiently hear my impatience.

Then listen patiently to my anger.

KING RICHARD.

Madam, I have a touch of your condition

That cannot brook the accent of reproof.

Madam, I have some of your characteristic

of not being able to listen to reprimands.

DUCHESS.

O, let me speak!

O, let me speak!

KING RICHARD.

Do, then; but I'll not hear.

Speak then, but I won't listen.

DUCHESS.

I will be mild and gentle in my words.

I will be sweet and kind with my words.

KING RICHARD.

And brief, good mother; for I am in haste.

And brief, good mother, for I am in a hurry.

DUCHESS.

Art thou so hasty? I have stay'd for thee,

God knows, in torment and in agony.

Are you in such a hurry? I waited for you,

God knows, in tortured agony.

KING RICHARD.

And came I not at last to comfort you?

And didn't I come in the end to comfort you?

DUCHESS.

No, by the holy rood, thou know'st it well

Thou cam'st on earth to make the earth my hell.

A grievous burden was thy birth to me;

Tetchy and wayward was thy infancy;

Thy school-days frightful, desp'rate, wild, and furious;

Thy prime of manhood daring, bold, and venturous;

Thy age confirm'd, proud, subtle, sly, and bloody,

More mild, but yet more harmful-kind in hatred.

What comfortable hour canst thou name

That ever grac'd me with thy company?

No, by the holy blood, you know well

that you came on earth to make it hell for me.

Your birth was a terrible burden for me;

as a child you were tetchy and disobedient;

your school days were terrible, desperate, wild and furious;

in the prime of your manhood you were daring, bold and adventurous;

as you got older you became proud, cunning, sly and bloodthirsty,

less aggressive, but more deceitfully spiteful in your hatred.

Can you name me one hour

that you ever gave me of your company?

KING RICHARD.

Faith, none but Humphrey Hour, that call'd

your Grace

To breakfast once forth of my company.

If I be so disgracious in your eye,

Let me march on and not offend you, madam.

Strike up the drum.

Only Humphrey Hour, a member of my company

who once called your Grace to come to breakfast.

If I am so unpleasing to your eye,

let me march on and not offend you, madam.

Strike up the drum.

DUCHESS.

I prithee hear me speak.

I pray you to listen to me.

KING RICHARD.

You speak too bitterly.

You speak too bitterly.

DUCHESS.

Hear me a word;

For I shall never speak to thee again.

Just listen to a word from me;

For I shall never speak to you again.

KING RICHARD.

So.

Very well.

DUCHESS.

Either thou wilt die by God's just ordinance

Ere from this war thou turn a conqueror;

Or I with grief and extreme age shall perish

And never more behold thy face again.

Therefore take with thee my most grievous curse,

Which in the day of battle tire thee more

Than all the complete armour that thou wear'st!

My prayers on the adverse party fight;

And there the little souls of Edward's children

Whisper the spirits of thine enemies

And promise them success and victory.

Bloody thou art; bloody will be thy end.

Shame serves thy life and doth thy death attend.

Either you shall die by God's just orders

before you triumph in this war,

or I shall perish from grief and old age

and never see your face again.

So take with you my most terrible curse,

and on the day of battle may it tire you more

than all the full suit of armour you wear!

My prayers go with your adversaries;

and the little souls of Edward's children

whisper to the ghosts of your enemies

and promise them success and victory.

You are bloodthirsty; your death will be bloody.

Shame follows your life and will be with you in your death.

Exit

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Though far more cause, yet much less

spirit to curse

Abides in me; I say amen to her.

Although I have far more cause to curse you,

I have less ability at it; I second what she has said.

KING RICHARD.

Stay, madam, I must talk a word with you.

Wait, madam, I must speak to you.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

I have no moe sons of the royal blood

For thee to slaughter. For my daughters, Richard,

They shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;

And therefore level not to hit their lives.

I have no other royal sons

for you to slaughter. As from my daughters, Richard,

they shall be praying nuns, not weeping queens;

and so don't plan to take their lives.

KING RICHARD.

You have a daughter call'd Elizabeth.

Virtuous and fair, royal and gracious.

You have a daughter called Elizabeth.

Good and beautiful, royal and gracious.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

And must she die for this? O, let her

live,

And I'll corrupt her manners, stain her beauty,

Slander myself as false to Edward's bed,

Throw over her the veil of infamy;

So she may live unscarr'd of bleeding slaughter,

I will confess she was not Edward's daughter.

And she must die for that? O, let her live,

and I will corrupt her manners, spoil her beauty,

lie and say that I betrayed Edward,

I will make her ill thought of;

if it means she can escape bloody slaughter,

I will swear that she was not Edward's daughter.

KING RICHARD.

Wrong not her birth; she is a royal

Princess.

Do not lie about her birth; she is a royal princess.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

To save her life I'll say she is not so.

To save her life I'll say she isn't.

KING RICHARD.

Her life is safest only in her birth.

Her birth is the only thing saving her life.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

And only in that safety died her

brothers.

It was their birth that killed her brothers.

KING RICHARD.

Lo, at their birth good stars were opposite.

Well, the stars werecontrary when they were born.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

No, to their lives ill friends were

contrary.

No, it was poor friends who were contrary to their lives.

KING RICHARD.

All unavoided is the doom of destiny.

Fate cannot be avoided.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

True, when avoided grace makes destiny.

My babes were destin'd to a fairer death,

If grace had bless'd thee with a fairer life.

Truth, when avoiding grace brings destiny.

My babies were destined to have a sweeter death,

if grace had blessed you with a sweeter life.

KING RICHARD.

You speak as if that I had slain my cousins.

You speak as if it was I who killed my cousins.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Cousins, indeed; and by their uncle

cozen'd

Of comfort, kingdom, kindred, freedom, life.

Whose hand soever lanc'd their tender hearts,

Thy head, an indirectly, gave direction.

No doubt the murd'rous knife was dull and blunt

Till it was whetted on thy stone-hard heart

To revel in the entrails of my lambs.

But that still use of grief makes wild grief tame,

My tongue should to thy ears not name my boys

Till that my nails were anchor'd in thine eyes;

And I, in such a desp'rate bay of death,

Like a poor bark, of sails and tackling reft,

Rush all to pieces on thy rocky bosom.

They were indeed your cousins; and you their uncle cheated them

of comfort, kingdom, family, freedom, life.

Whoever's hand it was which stabbed their tender hearts

it was you who gave the orders.

No doubt the murderous knife was dull and blunt

until it was sharpened on your stony heart

before it went to tear around the innards of my lambs.

But this calm talk of grief calms my wild grief,