The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (283 page)

You and your brother will both pay for this treason,

with the sweetest blood in your bodies.

KING EDWARD.

The harder match'd, the greater victory;

My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.

The greater the opposition, the greater the victories;

I predict a great victory here.

[Enter SOMERSET, with forces.]

SOMERSET.

Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!

[He and his forces enter the city.]

GLOSTER.

Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset,

Have sold their lives unto the House of York;

And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold.

Two of your family, both Dukes of Somerset,

have given their lives for the house of York;

if my sword holds out you will be the third.

[Enter CLARENCE, with Forces.]

WARWICK.

And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along,

Of force enough to bid his brother battle;

With whom an upright zeal to right prevails,

More than the nature of a brother's love!--

[Gloster and Clarence whisper.]

Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt if Warwick call.

Look there, where George of Clarence comes,

with enough forces to challenge his brother in battle;

it's more important for him to be right,

than to have his brother's love!

CLARENCE.

Father of Warwick, know you what this means?

[Taking the red rose out of his hat.]

Look here, I throw my infamy at thee;

I will not ruinate my father's house,

Who gave his blood to lime the stones together,

And set up Lancaster. Why, trow'st thou, Warwick,

That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural,

To bend the fatal instruments of war

Against his brother and his lawful king?

Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath;

To keep that oath were more impiety

Than Jephtha's when he sacrific'd his daughter.

I am so sorry for my trespass made

That, to deserve well at my brother's hands,

I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe,

With resolution, whereso'er I meet thee--

As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad--

To plague thee for thy foul misleading me.

And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee,

And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks.--

Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends;--

And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults,

For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.

Father Warwick, you know what this means?

Look here, I throw my disgrace at you;

I shall not disgrace my father's house,

who gave his blood to glue the stones together,

and establish Lancaster. Why, do you believe, Warwick,

that Clarence is so rough, so vicious and unnatural

that he would direct his forces

against his brother and his lawful king?

Perhaps you will say I have made a holy oath;

to keep that oath would be more blasphemous

than Jeptha when he sacrificed his daughter.

I am so sorry for my errors

that, so that my brother will be pleased with me,

I hereby announce that I am your mortal enemy,

resolved that whenever I meet you–

as I will, if you come outside–

to curse you for the way you misled me.

And so, arrogant Warwick, I defy you,

and turn my embarrassed face to my brother.

Forgive me, Edward, I will make amends;

and, Richard, do not frown at my faults,

for I will never betray you again.

KING EDWARD.

Now, welcome more, and ten times more belov'd,

Than if thou never hadst deserv'd our hate.

You are now more welcome, and ten times more loved,

than if we had never hated you.

GLOSTER.

Welcome, good Clarence; this is brother-like.

Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherly.

WARWICK.

O passing traitor, perjur'd and unjust!

You shifting traitor, unjust liar!

KING EDWARD.

What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight,

Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?

Well, Warwick, will you come out of the town and fight,

or shall we bring it down around your ears?

WARWICK.

Alas! I am not coop'd here for defence;

I will away towards Barnet presently,

And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou dar'st.

Alas! I am not set up for defence here;

I shall go at once to Barnet,

and challenge you to battle, Edward, if you dare.

KING EDWARD.

Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.--

Lords, to the field! Saint George and victory!

Yes, Warwick, Edward dares and leads the way.

Lords, take to the battlefield! For St George and victory!

[March. Exeunt.]

[Alarum and excursions. Enter KING EDWARD, bringing in

WARWICK wounded.]

KING EDWARD.

So, lie thou there; die thou, and die our fear,

For Warwick was a bug that fear'd us all.--

Now, Montague, sit fast; I seek for thee,

That Warwick's bones may keep thine company.

So, you lie there; die, and my fear dies with you,

for Warwick was feared by us all.

Now, Montague, wait there; I shall find you,

and you shall be buried alongside Warwick.

[Exit.]

WARWICK.

Ah! who is nigh? come to me, friend or foe,

And tell me who is victor, York or Warwick.

Why ask I that? my mangled body shows;

My blood, my want of strength, my sick heart shows

That I must yield my body to the earth

And, by my fall, the conquest to my foe.

Thus yields the cedar to the axe's edge,

Whose arms gave shelter to the princely eagle,

Under whose shade the ramping lion slept,

Whose top-branch overpeer'd Jove's spreading tree,

And kept low shrubs from winter's pow'rful wind.

These eyes, that now are dimm'd with death's black veil,

Have been as piercing as the midday sun,

To search the secret treasons of the world;

The wrinkles in my brows, now fill'd with blood,

Were liken'd oft to kingly sepulchres,

For who liv'd king but I could dig his grave?

And who durst smile when Warwick bent his brow?

Lo, now my glory smear'd in dust and blood!

My parks, my walks, my manors that I had,

Even now forsake me, and of all my lands

Is nothing left me but my body's length.

Why, what is pomp, rule, reign, but earth and dust?

And live we how we can, yet die we must.

Ah! Who is nearby? Come to me, whether a friend or enemy,

and tell me who has won, York or Warwick.

Why do I ask that? My ruined body shows the answer;

my blood, my weakness, my sick heart shows

that I must resign my body to the earth

and my fall shows that my enemy has won.

So the cedar falls under the axe,

whose branches gave shelter to the princely eagle,

which gave shade to the rampant lion as it slept,

whose highest branch looked over the spreading tree of Jove,

and protected lesser plants from the powerful winds of winter.

These eyes, that are now dimmed by the black veil of death,

were once as piercing as the midday sun, revealing the secret traitors of the world;

these lines in my forehead, now filled with blood,

were often compared to the tombs of kings

for what king was there whom I could not dig a grave for?

Who dared to smile when Warwick frowned?

Look, now my glory is smeared with dust and blood!

My parks, my gardens, all the manors that I had,

are leaving me now, and I have nothing left of all my

lands apart from my own body.

Why, what are possessions, power, title, except earth and dust?

However we live, we must all die.

[Enter OXFORD and SOMERSET.]

SOMERSET.

Ah, Warwick, Warwick! wert thou as we are,

We might recover all our loss again.

The queen from France hath brought a puissant power;

Even now we heard the news. Ah, couldst thou fly!

Ah, Warwick, Warwick! If you were still alive like us,

we might get everything back again.

The Queen has brought a strong force from France;

we've just heard the news. Ah, if only you could flee!

WARWICK.

Why, then I would not fly.--Ah, Montague!

If thou be there, sweet brother, take my hand

And with thy lips keep in my soul awhile.

Thou lov'st me not; for, brother, if thou did'st,

Thy tears would wash this cold, congealed blood

That glues my lips and will not let me speak.

Come quickly, Montague, or I am dead.

If I could I wouldn't. Ah, Montague!

If you are here, sweet brother, take my hand

and use your lips to stop my soul escaping for a while.

You don't love me; for, brother, if you did,

your tears would wash off this cold congealed blood

that sticks my lips together and stops me speaking.

Come quickly, Montague, or I will die.

SOMERSET.

Ah, Warwick, Montague hath breath'd his last,

And to the latest gasp cried out for Warwick,

And said 'Commend me to my valiant brother.'

And more he would have said, and more he spoke,

Which sounded like a clamour in a vault,

That might not be distinguish'd; but at last

I well might hear, delivered with a groan,--

'O farewell, Warwick!'

Ah, Warwick, Montague is dead,

and with his last gasp he cried out for Warwick,

and said, “Remember me to my brave brother."

He wanted to say more, and he spoke more,

but everything was so confused that 1 couldn't