Read The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Online
Authors: WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE
plainly proclaiming that John must be punished.
LEWIS.
May be he will not touch young Arthur's life,
But hold himself safe in his prisonment.
Maybe he will not kill young Arthur,
but keep himself safe by imprisoning him.
PANDULPH.
O, Sir, when he shall hear of your approach,
If that young Arthur be not gone already,
Even at that news he dies; and then the hearts
Of all his people shall revolt from him,
And kiss the lips of unacquainted change,
And pick strong matter of revolt and wrath
Out of the bloody fingers' ends of John.
Methinks I see this hurly all on foot;
And, O, what better matter breeds for you
Than I have nam'd! The bastard Faulconbridge
Is now in England ransacking the Church,
Offending charity; if but a dozen French
Were there in arms, they would be as a call
To train ten thousand English to their side;
Or as a little snow, tumbled about,
Anon becomes a mountain. O noble Dauphin,
Go with me to the King. 'Tis wonderful
What may be wrought out of their discontent,
Now that their souls are topful of offence.
For England go; I will whet on the King.
Oh sir, when he hears that you are coming,
if young Arthur has not already being killed,
he will be killed at the news; and then the hearts
of all his people will revolt against him,
and welcome unknown change,
and find good cause for revolution and anger
in John's bloody hands.
I can picture all this chaos;
and how can things go better for you
than what I have described! The bastard Faulconbridge
is stealing money from the church in England,
losing goodwill; if there were just a dozen Frenchmen
there in arms, that would be a summons that
would bring ten thousand Englishmen to their side;
it would be like a little snow which stirred up
soon becomes an avalanche. O noble Dauphin,
come with me to the king. It's amazing
what can be created from unhappiness,
now that their souls are brimful of wrongdoing.
Go to England; I will encourage the King.
LEWIS.
Strong reasons makes strange actions. Let us go;
If you say ay, the King will not say no.
We must do strange things when we have good reasons to. Let's go;
if you say yes, the King will not say no.
Exeunt
England. A castle
Enter HUBERT and EXECUTIONERS
HUBERT.
Heat me these irons hot; and look thou stand
Within the arras. When I strike my foot
Upon the bosom of the ground, rush forth
And bind the boy which you shall find with me
Fast to the chair. Be heedful; hence, and watch.
Heat these irons hot for me; and you go and hide
behind the curtain. When I stamp my foot
upon the floor, rush out
and tie up the boy you find with me
tight to the chair. Keep alert; off you go, and watch out.
EXECUTIONER.
I hope your warrant will bear out the deed.
I hope that your warrant gives you permission for this.
HUBERT.
Uncleanly scruples! Fear not you. Look to't.
Improper doubts! Don't worry. Get it done.
Exeunt
EXECUTIONERS
Young lad, come forth; I have to say with you.
Young lad, come out; I need to speak with you.
Enter ARTHUR
ARTHUR.
Good morrow, Hubert.
Good morning, Hubert.
HUBERT.
Good morrow, little Prince.
Good morning, little Prince.
ARTHUR.
As little prince, having so great a tide
To be more prince, as may be. You are sad.
I am as small a prince as one who is going to be
such a much greater prince can be. You are sad.
HUBERT.
Indeed I have been merrier.
I have certainly been happier.
ARTHUR.
Mercy on me!
Methinks no body should be sad but I;
Yet, I remember, when I was in France,
Young gentlemen would be as sad as night,
Only for wantonness. By my christendom,
So I were out of prison and kept sheep,
I should be as merry as the day is long;
And so I would be here but that I doubt
My uncle practises more harm to me;
He is afraid of me, and I of him.
Is it my fault that I was Geffrey's son?
No, indeed, ist not; and I would to heaven
I were your son, so you would love me, Hubert.
God forgive me!
I imagine that nobody could be sad but me;
but I remember, when I was in France,
young gentlemen would be a sad as night
just for show. I swear by my kingdom,
that if I was out of prison and keeping sheep,
I would be as happy as the day is long;
I would be the same here except for my fear
that my uncle means to do me more harm;
he is afraid of me, and I am afraid of him.
Is it my fault that I was Geoffrey's son?
No it certainly isn't; I wish to heaven
that I were your son, Hubert, and that you would love me.
HUBERT.
[Aside]If I talk to him, with his innocent prate
He will awake my mercy, which lies dead;
Therefore I will be sudden and dispatch.
If I talk with him his innocent chatter
will inspire my mercy, which is dead now;
so I will get the business over quickly.
ARTHUR.
Are you sick, Hubert? You look pale to-day;
In sooth, I would you were a little sick,
That I might sit all night and watch with you.
I warrant I love you more than you do me.
Are you ill, Hubert? You look pale today;
I swear, I wish that you were a little ill,
so that I could sit up all night to keep you company.
I believe I love you more than you do me.
HUBERT.
[Aside]His words do take possession of my bosom.-
Read here, young Arthur.[Showing a
paper]
[Aside]How now, foolish rheum!
Turning dispiteous torture out of door!
I must be brief, lest resolution drop
Out at mine eyes in tender womanish tears.-
Can you not read it? Is it not fair writ?
His words have taken hold of my heart–
Read this, young Arthur.
What's this, foolish tears!
Driving dispassionate torture out of the door!
I must be quick, unless my strength falls
out of my eyes in tender effeminate tears–
can't you read it? Isn't it clearly written?
ARTHUR.
Too fairly, Hubert, for so foul effect.
Must you with hot irons burn out both mine eyes?
To clear, Hubert, for such a dark purpose.
Must you burn both my eyes out with hot irons?
HUBERT.
Young boy, I must.
Young boy, I must.
ARTHUR.
And will you?
And will you?
HUBERT.
And I will.
And I will.
ARTHUR.
Have you the heart? When your head did but ache,
I knit my handkerchief about your brows-
The best I had, a princess wrought it me-
And I did never ask it you again;
And with my hand at midnight held your head;
And, like the watchful minutes to the hour,
Still and anon cheer'd up the heavy time,
Saying 'What lack you?' and 'Where lies your grief?'
Or 'What good love may I perform for you?'
Many a poor man's son would have lyen still,
And ne'er have spoke a loving word to you;
But you at your sick service had a prince.
Nay, you may think my love was crafty love,
And call it cunning. Do, an if you will.
If heaven be pleas'd that you must use me ill,
Why, then you must. Will you put out mine eyes,
These eyes that never did nor never shall
So much as frown on you?
Have you the heart to do it? When you had a headache,
I tied my handkerchief around your forehead–
the best I had, a Princess made it for me–
and I never asked for it back;
at midnight I held your head in my hands;
and I tried to cheer up the dark time and make it
past like the minutes in the hour,
saying, “what do you need?" And “where does it hurt?"
Or “is there anything that I can do for you?"
Many sons of poor men would have just slept
and never spoken a loving word to you;
but to serve you in your sickness you had a prince.
Well, you may think that my love was a trick,
and call it cunning. Do, if you want to.
If heaven is determined that you must treat me badly,
well, then you must. Are you going to put out my eyes,
the eyes that never did and never will
so much as frown at you?
HUBERT.