The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (16 page)

my mind offers me the solution

to help me escape from my sorrows,

and tells me to kill or hang myself.

If I were mad I would forget about my son,

or madly think that he was worthless.

I am not mad; I can feel the curse of each

terrible event all too well.

KING PHILIP.

Bind up those tresses. O, what love I note

In the fair multitude of those her hairs!

Where but by a chance a silver drop hath fall'n,

Even to that drop ten thousand wiry friends

Do glue themselves in sociable grief,

Like true, inseparable, faithful loves,

Sticking together in calamity.

Tie up your hair. Oh, what love I can see

in that lovely crop of her hair!

When a silver tear has fallen there by chance

ten thousand wiry friends glue themselves to it,

sharing in its grief,

like true, inseparable, faithful lovers,

sticking together through disaster.

CONSTANCE.

To England, if you will.

Let's go to England, if you agree.

KING PHILIP.

Bind up your hairs.

Tie up your hair.

CONSTANCE.

Yes, that I will; and wherefore will I do it?

I tore them from their bonds, and cried aloud

'O that these hands could so redeem my son,

As they have given these hairs their liberty!'

But now I envy at their liberty,

And will again commit them to their bonds,

Because my poor child is a prisoner.

And, father Cardinal, I have heard you say

That we shall see and know our friends in heaven;

If that be true, I shall see my boy again;

For since the birth of Cain, the first male child,

To him that did but yesterday suspire,

There was not such a gracious creature born.

But now will canker sorrow eat my bud

And chase the native beauty from his cheek,

And he will look as hollow as a ghost,

As dim and meagre as an ague's fit;

And so he'll die; and, rising so again,

When I shall meet him in the court of heaven

I shall not know him. Therefore never, never

Must I behold my pretty Arthur more.

Yes, I shall; and why will I do it?

I tore them from their constraints, and cried aloud

“I wish these hands could free my son as easily

as they have freed these hairs!"

But now I am jealous of their freedom,

and will tie them up again,

because my poor child is a prisoner.

And, Father Cardinal, I have heard you say

that we will see and recognise our friends in heaven;

if that is true, I will see my boy again;

for since Cain, the first male child, was born,

up until the last boy born yesterday,

there was never such a lovely creature born.

But now the disease of sorrow eats at my bud

and drives the natural beauty out of his face,

and he will look as thin as a ghost,

as grey and skinny as one with a fever;

and so he will die; and, rising up again,

when I meet him in heaven

I will not recognise him. So I will never, never

ever see my pretty Arthur again.

PANDULPH.

You hold too heinous a respect of grief.

It's sinful to have such respect for grief.

CONSTANCE.

He talks to me that never had a son.

The one who talks to me has never had a son.

KING PHILIP.

You are as fond of grief as of your child.

You like your grief as much as your child.

CONSTANCE.

Grief fills the room up of my absent child,

Lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,

Puts on his pretty looks, repeats his words,

Remembers me of all his gracious parts,

Stuffs out his vacant garments with his form;

Then have I reason to be fond of grief.

Fare you well; had you such a loss as I,

I could give better comfort than you do.

I will not keep this form upon my head,

[Tearing her

hair]

When there is such disorder in my wit.

O Lord! my boy, my Arthur, my fair son!

My life, my joy, my food, my ail the world!

My widow-comfort, and my sorrows' cure!

Grief fills up the room of my absent child,

lies in his bed, walks up and down with me,

imitates his looks, speaks like him,

reminds me of all his good qualities,

fills his empty clothes with his shape;

so I have good reason to like grief.

Farewell; if you had suffered my loss,

I would be able to comfort you better than you comfort me.

I won't keep my hair in order,

when my mind is so disordered.

Oh Lord! My boy, my Arthur, my lovely son!

My life, my joy, my food, my whole world!

The comfort of my widowhood, cure of all my sorrows!

Exit

KING PHILIP.

I fear some outrage, and I'll follow her.

I'm afraid she'll do herself some damage, and I will follow her.

Exit

LEWIS.

There's nothing in this world can make me joy.

Life is as tedious as a twice-told tale

Vexing the dull ear of a drowsy man;

And bitter shame hath spoil'd the sweet world's taste,

That it yields nought but shame and bitterness.

There's nothing in this world which can make me happy.

Life is as dull as a story you've heard already

irritating the unhearing ear of a sleepy man;

bitter shame has spoilt the sweet taste of the world,

so that I can taste only shame and bitterness.

PANDULPH.

Before the curing of a strong disease,

Even in the instant of repair and health,

The fit is strongest; evils that take leave

On their departure most of all show evil;

What have you lost by losing of this day?

Before a strong disease can be cured,

even at the moment that health is returning,

it is at its worst; evils that can be seen

as they leave are the most evil;

what have you lost by your defeat today?

LEWIS.

All days of glory, joy, and happiness.

Any chance of glory, joy and happiness.

PANDULPH.

If you had won it, certainly you had.

No, no; when Fortune means to men most good,

She looks upon them with a threat'ning eye.

'Tis strange to think how much King John hath lost

In this which he accounts so clearly won.

Are not you griev'd that Arthur is his prisoner?

If you had one, you certainly would have.

No, no; when Fortune intends to favour men most,

she looks at them frighteningly.

It's strange to think how much King John has lost

in this action which he thinks he has obviously won.

Aren't you upset that Arthur is his prisoner?

LEWIS.

As heartily as he is glad he hath him.

As much as he is glad to have captured him.

PANDULPH.

Your mind is all as youthful as your blood.

Now hear me speak with a prophetic spirit;

For even the breath of what I mean to speak

Shall blow each dust, each straw, each little rub,

Out of the path which shall directly lead

Thy foot to England's throne. And therefore mark:

John hath seiz'd Arthur; and it cannot be

That, whiles warm life plays in that infant's veins,

The misplac'd John should entertain an hour,

One minute, nay, one quiet breath of rest.

A sceptre snatch'd with an unruly hand

Must be boisterously maintain'd as gain'd,

And he that stands upon a slipp'ry place

Makes nice of no vile hold to stay him up;

That John may stand then, Arthur needs must fall;

So be it, for it cannot be but so.

Your mind is as immature as your body.

Now listen to me prophesy;

just the breath of what I say

will blow each bit of dust, each straw, each little obstacle,

out of the path which leads directly for you

on to the throne of England. And so note this:

John has captured Arthur; while that child

has any warm blood in his veins it cannot be

that thieving John can ever enjoy an hour,

a minute, no, not one quiet breath of rest.

When a sceptre has been snatched by violence

it must be kept with the same energy with which it was gained,

and someone who is standing in a slippery place

does not reject any evil which will keep him upright.

So that John can stand, Arthur has to fall;

this will happen, it's the only thing that can happen.

LEWIS.

But what shall I gain by young Arthur's fall?

But what will I gain by young Arthur's fall?

PANDULPH.

You, in the right of Lady Blanch your wife,

May then make all the claim that Arthur did.

You can claim everything that Arthur did

through your rights as husband of Lady Blanche.

LEWIS.

And lose it, life and all, as Arthur did.

And lose it, along with my life, as Arthur did.

PANDULPH.

How green you are and fresh in this old world!

John lays you plots; the times conspire with you;

For he that steeps his safety in true blood

Shall find but bloody safety and untrue.

This act, so evilly borne, shall cool the hearts

Of all his people and freeze up their zeal,

That none so small advantage shall step forth

To check his reign but they will cherish it;

No natural exhalation in the sky,

No scope of nature, no distemper'd day,

No common wind, no customed event,

But they will pluck away his natural cause

And call them meteors, prodigies, and signs,

Abortives, presages, and tongues of heaven,

Plainly denouncing vengeance upon John.

How innocent you are to the ways of this old world!

John plots against you; the times are on your side;

for someone who sheds noble blood for his own safety

will find that safety is bloody and unsafe.

When he does this evil act it will cool the hearts

of all his people and take away their passion,

so that when any small opportunity arises

to stop his rule they will welcome it;

there will be no natural cloud in the sky,

no natural event, no stormy day,

no ordinary wind, no normal happening,

without them ignoring the natural cause

and calling them meteors, unnatural signs,

abortions, predictions, voices from heaven,