The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (239 page)

Haven't I been bewitched like her? And aren't you false like him?

Oh, I can't stand any more! Die, Margaret!

Henry is weeping because you've lived too long.

[Noise within. Enter WARWICK, SALISBURY, and many Commons.]

WARWICK.

It is reported, mighty sovereign,

That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murther'd

By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means.

The commons, like an angry hive of bees

That want their leader, scatter up and down

And care not who they sting in his revenge.

Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny

Until they hear the order of his death.

It has been reported, mighty sovereign,

that the good Duke Humphrey has been treacherously murdered

by the plans of Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort.

The common people, like a hive of angry bees

who are missing their leader, are rushing around

and do not care whom they sting to take revenge for him.

I myself have calmed their angry mutiny

until they hear the true story of his death.

KING.

That he is dead, good Warwick, 't is too true;

But how he died God knows, not Henry.

Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,

And comment then upon his sudden death.

Is all too true that he's dead, good Warwick;

but God knows how he died, Henry doesn't.

Go into his room, see his dead body,

and then say what you think about his sudden death.

WARWICK.

That shall I do, my liege.--Stay, Salisbury,

With the rude multitude till I return.

I shall do that, my lord. Stay here, Salisbury,

with these commoners until I come back.

[Exit.]

KING.

O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts,

My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul

Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!

If my suspect be false, forgive me, God,

For judgment only doth belong to thee.

Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips

With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain

Upon his face an ocean of salt tears

To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,

And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling;

But all in vain are these mean obsequies;

And to survey his dead and earthy image,

What were it but to make my sorrow greater?

O you who judge all things, calm my thoughts,

my thoughts, that are telling my soul

that Humphrey met a violent end!

If my suspicions are false, forgive me, God,

for you are the only one who can judge.

I should like to cover his pale lips

with twenty thousand kisses, and spill

an ocean of salt tears upon his face,

to tell his dumb deaf body of my love for him,

and to take his senseless hand in mine;

but all these mean tributes are in vain;

if I looked on his cold dead body,

what good would it do apart from making my sorrow greater?

[Re-enter WARWICK and others, bearing GLOSTER's

body on a bed.]

WARWICK.

Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.

Come here, gracious sovereign, and look at this body.

KING.

That is to see how deep my grave is made;

For with his soul fled all my worldly solace,

For seeing him I see my life in death.

That would be to look into my own grave;

all my comfort on this earth left along with his soul,

seeing him I can see my own death.

WARWICK.

As surely as my soul intends to live

With that dread King that took our state upon him

To free us from his father's wrathful curse,

I do believe that violent hands were laid

Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.

As definitely as my soul intends to live

with that great Lord who took our sins upon him

to free us from the angry curse of his father,

I do believe that this triply famous Duke

suffered at the hands of violent men.

SUFFOLK.

A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!

What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?

A dreadful oath, solemnly sworn!

What justification has Lord Warwick got for his vow?

WARWICK.

See how the blood is settled in his face.

Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,

Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless,

Being all descended to the labouring heart,

Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,

Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy,

Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth

To blush and beautify the cheek again.

But see, his face is black and full of blood,

His eyeballs further out than when he liv'd,

Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;

His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling,

His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd

And tugg'd for life and was by strength subdu'd.

Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking;

His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,

Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.

It cannot be but he was murther'd here;

The least of all these signs were probable.

See the way the blood has settled in his face.

I have often seen the body of someone who's died naturally,

white, thin, pale and bloodless,

with all the blood drawn back to its heart,

which, in its fight with death,

calls the blood back to help it fight the enemy,

which cools down in the heart and never goes back

to redden and beautify the cheek again.

But look, his face is black and full of blood,

his eyeballs are standing out further than when he was alive,

staring horribly like a strangled man;

his hair is standing on end, his nostrils wide with struggle,

his hands thrown apart, like someone who struggled

and grappled for his life and was forcibly restrained.

Look, you can see his hair stuck to the sheets;

his well shaped beard is rough and disorderly,

like a field of summer corn after a storm.

The smallest one of these signs show that he

can only have been murdered.

SUFFOLK.

Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?

Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;

And we, I hope, sir, are no murtherers.

Why, Warwick, who would kill the Duke?

Myself and Beaufort had him in our custody;

and we are no murderers, I hope, sir.

WARWICK.

But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes,

And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep;

'T is like you would not feast him like a friend,

And 't is well seen he found an enemy.

But both of you were sworn enemies of Duke Humphrey,

and you certainly had the good Duke in your custody;

it's not likely that you would have welcomed him like a friend,

and it is quite obvious that he found an enemy.

QUEEN.

Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen

As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.

Then it seems that you suspect these noblemen

of being guilty of Duke Humphrey's untimely death.

WARWICK.

Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh

And sees fast by a butcher with an axe

But will suspect 't was he that made the slaughter?

Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest

But may imagine how the bird was dead,

Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?

Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

Who can find a calf dead and freshly bleeding,

with a butcher standing close by with an axe,

and not think that it was he who  did the slaughter?

Who sees a partridge in a kite's nest

without being able to imagine how the bird died,

even if the kite is soaring above with no blood on its beak?

That is how suspicious this tragedy is.

QUEEN.

Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?

Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?

Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?

Are you calling Beaufort a kite? Where are his claws?

SUFFOLK.

I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men;

But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,

That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart

That slanders me with murther's crimson badge.--

Say, if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,

That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.

I don't carry a knife to slaughter sleeping men;

but here's a revenging sword, rusted through lack of use,

that will be cleaned in the spiteful heart of anyone

who dares to accuse me of murder.

Say, proud Lord of Warwickshire, if you dare,

that I am guilty of Duke Humphrey's death.

[Exeunt Cardinal, Somerset, and others.]

WARWICK.

What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

What wouldn't Warwick dare, if false Suffolk dares him?

QUEEN.

He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,

Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,

Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

He wouldn't dare to quash his arrogant spirit,

or cease to be an arrogant plotter,

if Suffolk dared him twenty thousand times.

WARWICK.

Madam, be still,--with reverence may I say;

For every word you speak in his behalf

Is slander to your royal dignity.

Madam, calm yourself. I say with respect;

every word you speak on his behalf

is an insult to your royal dignity.

SUFFOLK.

Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour!

If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,

Thy mother took into her blameful bed

Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock

Was graft with crab-tree slip, whose fruit thou art,

And never of the Nevils' noble race.

Stupid and ignoble lord!

If a lady ever wronged her lord so much,

your mother took some harsh uneducated peasant

into her sinful bed, and a noble plant

was crafted with a twig of the crab apple tree, and you are

the fruit of it, you never came from the noble line of the Nevils.

WARWICK.

But that the guilt of murther bucklers thee

And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,

Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,

And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,

I would, false murtherous coward, on thy knee