The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (33 page)

whose youthful spirits reborn in me

lift me up with a double strength

to reach for a victory that would otherwise be unattainable,

strengthen my armour with your prayers,

and reinforce the point of my lance with your blessings,

so it can go through Mowbray's armour as if it were wax,

and let the brave achievements of his son

give new honour to the name of John of Gaunt.

GAUNT.

God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!

Be swift like lightning in the execution,

And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,

Fall like amazing thunder on the casque

Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.

Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live.

May God give you success in your noble cause!

May your efforts be as swift as lightning,

and let your blows, raining down,

fall like stunning thunder on the helmet

of your malign opposed enemy.

Summon up your young courage, be brave, and live.

BOLINGBROKE.

Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive!

My innocence and St George will let me live!

MOWBRAY.

However God or fortune cast my lot,

There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,

A loyal, just, and upright gentleman.

Never did captive with a freer heart

Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace

His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,

More than my dancing soul doth celebrate

This feast of battle with mine adversary.

Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,

Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.

As gentle and as jocund as to jest

Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.

Whatever God or fortune give to me,

living or dying I am true to King Richard,

a loyal, just and upright gentleman.

No slave was ever happier

to throw off the chains of slavery, and embrace

his golden freedom,

than my dancing soul is happy

to begin this combat with my enemy.

You great King, and my fellow peers,

accept my wishes for a long and happy life.

I'm going into battle as peacefully and happy

as if to a dance: truth gives me a quiet mind.

KING RICHARD.

Farewell, my lord, securely I espy

Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.

Order the trial, Marshal, and begin.

Farewell, my lord, I can see bravery

and virtue firmly fixed in your looks.

Order the combat to begin, Marshal.

MARSHAL.

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

take your lance; and may God defend the just!

BOLINGBROKE.

Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.

My faith that this will happen is strong as a castle, I second you.

MARSHAL.

[To an officer] Go bear this lance to Thomas,

Duke of Norfolk.

Go and take this lance to Thomas,

Duke of Norfolk.

FIRST HERALD.

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,

On pain to be found false and recreant,

To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,

A traitor to his God, his King, and him;

And dares him to set forward to the fight.

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

stands here representing his God, his king, and himself,

on penalty of being shown to be false and blasphemous,

to prove that the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,

is a traitor to his God, his king, and him;

and he challenges him to step up for the fight.

SECOND HERALD.

Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

On pain to be found false and recreant,

Both to defend himself, and to approve

Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal,

Courageously and with a free desire

Attending but the signal to begin.

Here stands Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

on penalty of being shown to be blasphemous and false,

both to defend himself, and to prove

that Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

is disloyal to God, his king, and to himself,

he is waiting courageously and with free will

for the signal for the combat to begin.

MARSHAL.

Sound trumpets; and set forward, combatants.

[A charge sounded]

Stay, the King hath thrown his warder down.

Sound the trumpets; advance, combatants.

[A charge is sounded]

Wait, the King has thrown down his baton.

KING RICHARD.

Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,

And both return back to their chairs again.

Withdraw with us; and let the trumpets sound

While we return these dukes what we decree.

A long flourish, while the KING consults his Council

Draw near,

And list what with our council we have done.

For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd

With that dear blood which it hath fostered;

And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect

Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword;

And for we think the eagle-winged pride

Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,

With rival-hating envy, set on you

To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle

Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;

Which so rous'd up with boist'rous untun'd drums,

With harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,

And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,

Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace

And make us wade even in our kindred's blood-

Therefore we banish you our territories.

You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,

Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields

Shall not regreet our fair dominions,

But tread the stranger paths of banishment.

Let them both put aside their helmets and their spears,

and come back to their chairs.

Gather round me, and let the trumpets sound,

while I inform these dukes what I have decided.

Come close,

and listen to my decision.

Because the earth of our kingdom should not be stained

with the sweet blood of those who grew from it;

and because my eyes hate the horrible sight

of wounds cut with a neighbour's sword,

and because we believe that it was pride,

ambitious thoughts reaching up to the sky,

causing envy of your rivals, which started you

disturbing the peace, which in this sweet country

is like the breath of a sleeping baby;

this is what got the war drums beating,

which started the horrible discordant wail of the trumpets,

and the clashing racket of iron weapons wielded in anger,

which could drive beautiful peace away from our kingdom

and make us have to wade through the blood of our kindred–

so we exile you from our lands.

You, cousin Hereford, on pain of death,

will not come back into our fair lands

until ten years have passed,

you must live abroad as an exile.

BOLINGBROKE.

Your will be done. Limit must my comfort be-

That sun that warms you here shall shine on me,

And those his golden beams to you here lent

Shall point on me and gild my banishment.

Your will be done. I must take comfort from the fact

that the sun that warms you here will shine on me,

and the golden beams that are lent to you here

will also fall on me and sweeten my exile.

KING RICHARD.

Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,

Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:

The sly slow hours shall not determinate

The dateless limit of thy dear exile;

The hopeless word of 'never to return'

Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Norfolk, you get a heavier sentence,

which I pass with some regret:

time will not measure

the limitless period of your exile;

I give you the hopeless sentence of

being permanently exiled, on pain of death.

MOWBRAY.

A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,

And all unlook'd for from your Highness' mouth.

A dearer merit, not so deep a maim

As to be cast forth in the common air,

Have I deserved at your Highness' hands.

The language I have learnt these forty years,

My native English, now I must forgo;

And now my tongue's use is to me no more

Than an unstringed viol or a harp;

Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up

Or, being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,

Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips;

And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance

Is made my gaoler to attend on me.

I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

Too far in years to be a pupil now.

What is thy sentence, then, but speechless death,

Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?

A heavy sentence, my most royal lord,

and one I didn't expect to hear from your Highness.

I deserved a better reward, not such a great injury

from the hands of your Highness as to be

sent away into the world.

The language I have learnt for the past forty years,

my native English, I must now forget;

now my tongue is no more use to me

than a violin or a heart that has no strings;

or like a lovely instrument in its case–or

if it is out that is placed in the hands

of one who doesn't know how to tune it or play it.

You have made my tongue a prisoner in my mouth,

fenced in twice by my teeth and lips,

and my dull and empty ignorance

becomes my jailer.

I am too old to learn from a nanny,

too far gone in years to be a pupil now:

so what is your sentence but a speechless death,

which robs my tongue of its right to speak its native language?

KING RICHARD.

It boots thee not to be compassionate;

After our sentence plaining comes too late.

Feeling sorry for yourself will not help you;

sentence has been passed, it's too late to complain.

MOWBRAY.

Then thus I turn me from my countrv's light,

To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.

Then I will turn away from my country's light,