The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (260 page)

And just as many times Edward came to my side

with his sword painted purple to the hilt

with the blood of those he had fought;

and when the greatest warriors retreated

Richard cried “Charge! Don't give an inch!"

And shouted, “We must have the crown, or a glorious tomb!

The sceptre, or the grave!"

At that, we charged again; but, alas, in vain!

We tried again, as I have seen a swan

swimming fruitlessly against the tide,

exhausting herself against the stronger waves.

Ah, listen! The deadly followers are chasing,

and I am weak and cannot escape their fury;

if I were strong, I would not try to avoid it.

My time is growing short;

I must say here, and here my life must end.

[Enter QUEEN MARGARET, CLIFFORD,

NORTHUMBERLAND, and Soldiers]

Come, bloodthirsty Clifford, rough Northumberland,

continue with your endless anger;

I'm your target, and I'm waiting for your shot.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Yield to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.

Surrender to our mercy, proud Plantagenet.

CLIFFORD.

Ay, to such mercy as his ruthless arm

With downright payment show'd unto my father.

Now Phaethon hath tumbled from his car,

And made an evening at the noontide prick.

Yes, to the same mercy that his ruthless arm

gave to my father.

Now the sun has fallen from its orbit,

and turned midday into evening.

YORK.

My ashes, as the phoenix, may bring forth

A bird that will revenge upon you all;

And in that hope I throw mine eyes to heaven

Scorning whate'er you can afflict me with.

Why come you not?--what! multitudes, and fear?

My ashes, like the Phoenix, might give birth

to a bird that will have revenge on you all;

and with that hope I turn my eyes to heaven,

rejecting whatever you can attack me with.

Why don't you come on? What! Crowds of you, and afraid?

CLIFFORD.

So cowards fight when they can fly no further;

So doves do peck the falcon's piercing talons;

So desperate thieves, all hopeless of their lives,

Breathe out invectives 'gainst the officers.

So cowards stand and fight when they can't run any more;

so doves peck at the piercing claws of the falcon;

this is how desperate thieves, having lost all hope,

curse the officers who come to arrest them.

YORK.

O Clifford, but bethink thee once again,

And in thy thought o'errun my former time;

And, if thou canst for blushing, view this face,

And bite thy tongue, that slanders him with cowardice

Whose frown hath made thee faint and fly ere this.

O Clifford, I ask you just think again,

and run your mind over the person I was;

and if you're not ashamed look at my face,

and curb your tongue, which falsely accuses me of cowardice,

when before today you have run away from my frown.

CLIFFORD.

I will not bandy with thee word for word,

But buckle with thee blows, twice two for one.

I will not exchange words with you,

but I will swap blows, exchanging four for one.

QUEEN MARGARET.

Hold, valiant Clifford! for a thousand causes

I would prolong awhile the traitor's life.--

Wrath makes him deaf; speak thou, Northumberland.

Wait, brave Clifford! There are a thousand reasons

that I want to keep the traitor alive for a while.

Anger has deafened him; Northumberland, you speak.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Hold, Clifford! do not honour him so much

To prick thy finger, though to wound his heart.

What valour were it, when a cur doth grin,

For one to thrust his hand between his teeth,

When he might spurn him with his foot away?

It is war's prize to take all vantages,

And ten to one is no impeach of valour.

Wait, Clifford! Don't do him the honour of even

pricking your finger, even if it's to wound his heart.

What bravery is there, when a cur snarls at you,

in thrusting your hand between its teeth,

when you could push him away with your foot?

In war the winners take everything,

and having greater forces does not show a lack of honour.

[They lay hands on York, who struggles.]

CLIFFORD.

Ay, ay; so strives the woodcock with the gin.

There you are, that's how the woodcock struggles in a trap.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

So doth the cony struggle in the net.

It's how the rabbit struggles in the net.

[York is taken prisoner.]

YORK.

So triumph thieves upon their conquer'd booty;

So true men yield, with robbers so o'ermatch'd.

This is how thieves win their stolen property;

it's how true men surrender, overwhelmed by robbers.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

What would your grace have done unto him now?

What does your grace want done with him now?

QUEEN MARGARET.

Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,

Come, make him stand upon this molehill here,

That raught at mountains with outstretched arms,

Yet parted but the shadow with his hand.--

What! was it you that would be England's king?

Was 't you that revell'd in our Parliament,

And made a preachment of your high descent?

Where are your mess of sons to back you now?

The wanton Edward and the lusty George?

And where's that valiant crook-back prodigy,

Dicky your boy, that with his grumbling voice

Was wont to cheer his dad in mutinies?

Or, with the rest, where is your darling Rutland?

Look, York; I stain'd this napkin with the blood

That valiant Clifford with his rapier's point

Made issue from the bosom of the boy,

And, if thine eyes can water for his death,

I give thee this to dry thy cheeks withal.

Alas, poor York! but that I hate thee deadly

I should lament thy miserable state.

I prithee, grieve to make me merry, York;

Stamp, rave, and fret, that I may sing and dance.

What, hath thy fiery heart so parch'd thine entrails

That not a tear can fall for Rutland's death?

Why art thou patient, man? thou shouldst be mad;

And I, to make thee mad, do mock thee thus.

Thou wouldst be feed, I see, to make me sport;

York cannot speak unless he wear a crown.--

A crown for York!--and, lords, bow low to him.--

Hold you his hands whilst I do set it on.--

[Putting a paper crown on his head.]

Ay, marry, sir, now looks he like a king.

Ay, this is he that took King Henry's chair;

And this is he was his adopted heir.--

But how is it that great Plantagenet

Is crown'd so soon and broke his solemn oath?

As I bethink me, you should not be king

Till our King Henry had shook hands with Death.

And will you pale your head in Henry's glory,

And rob his temples of the diadem,

Now in his life, against your holy oath?

O, 't is a fault too too unpardonable.--

Off with the crown, and with the crown his head!

And whilst we breathe take time to do him dead.

Brave warriors, Clifford and Northumberland,

come, make him stand upon this molehill,

the one who raged at mountains with his outstretched arms,

though his hands only fell on the shadows.

What! Are you the one who wants to be the King of England?

Was it you who put on a show in our Parliament,

telling us all about your noble birth?

Where's that rabble of sons to help you now?

The reckless Edward and the lusty George?

And where's that brave hunchback lad,

your boy Dicky, who with his whining voice

liked to cheer on his dad's rebellion?

Or, along with the rest of them, where is your darling Rutland?

Look, York; I dipped this napkin in the blood

that brave Clifford made run from the boy's heart

with the point of his rapier,

and, if you cry at his death,

I give you this to dry your cheeks.

Alas, poor York! If I didn't hate you so much

I would be sorry for your miserable condition.

Please, grieve to make me happy, York;

Stamp, rant and rave, so that I can sing and dance.

What, has your fiery heart so dried up your insides

that you cannot shed a tear for the death of Rutland?

Why are you so calm, man? You should be going mad;

and I am mocking you like this to make you mad.

I see that you have to be paid, to entertain me;

York cannot speak unless he wears a crown–

bring a crown for York!–And, lords, bow low to him–

you hold his hands while I put it on him–

[Putting a paper crown on his head]

Yes, now he certainly looks like a king, sir.

Yes, this is the one who stole King Henry's throne;

this is the one who was adopted as his heir–

but why has great Plantagenet been

crowned so early and broken his solemn oath?

As far as I know, you should not be King

until our King Henry was dead.

And you want to cover your head with Henry's glory,

and steal the crown from his head, while he's still alive, against your holy oath?

Oh, this is inexcusable behaviour–

take off the crown, and take off his head at the same time!

We shall remain alive, but make sure he's dead.

CLIFFORD.

That is my office, for my father's sake.

That's my job, to repay my father.

QUEEN MARGARET.

Nay, stay; let's hear the orisons he makes.

No, wait; let's hear his speeches.

YORK.

She-wolf of France, but worse than wolves of France,

Whose tongue more poisons than the adder's tooth,

How ill-beseeming is it in thy sex

To triumph, like an Amazonian trull,

Upon their woes whom fortune captivates!

But that thy face is, vizard-like, unchanging,

Made impudent with use of evil deeds,

I would assay, proud queen, to make thee blush.

To tell thee whence thou cam'st, of whom deriv'd,

Were shame enough to shame thee, wert thou not shameless.

Thy father bears the type of King of Naples,

Of both the Sicils and Jerusalem,

Yet not so wealthy as an English yeoman.

Hath that poor monarch taught thee to insult?

It needs not, nor it boots thee not, proud queen;

Unless the adage must be verified,

That beggars mounted run their horse to death.