The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (47 page)

Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.

Oh God, oh God! Why did this tongue of mine

that imposed the dreaded sentence of exile

on that proud man remove it with

appeasing words! I wish I was as great

as my grief, or smaller than my name!

Or that I can forget what I have been!

Or that I could forget what I now have to be!

Are you swelling, proud heart? I'll give you an opportunity to beat,

since your enemies have the opportunity to beat both you and me.

AUMERLE.

Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.

Northumberland is coming back from Bolingbroke.

KING RICHARD.

What must the King do now? Must he submit?

The King shall do it. Must he be depos'd?

The King shall be contented. Must he lose

The name of king? A God's name, let it go.

I'll give my jewels for a set of beads,

My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,

My gay apparel for an almsman's gown,

My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood,

My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff,

My subjects for a pair of carved saints,

And my large kingdom for a little grave,

A little little grave, an obscure grave-

Or I'll be buried in the king's high way,

Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet

May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;

For on my heart they tread now whilst I live,

And buried once, why not upon my head?

Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin!

We'll make foul weather with despised tears;

Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn

And make a dearth in this revolting land.

Or shall we play the wantons with our woes

And make some pretty match with shedding tears?

As thus: to drop them still upon one place

Till they have fretted us a pair of graves

Within the earth; and, therein laid-there lies

Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.

Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see

I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.

Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,

What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty

Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?

You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.

Now what must the King do? Must I surrender?

The King shall do it. Must he be overthrown?

The King will be happy. Must he lose

his title of King? In God's name, let it go.

I'll exchange my jewels for a set of beads;

my gorgeous palace for hermit’s cave;

my fine clothes for a beggar's gown;

my ornamental goblets for a wooden dish;

my sceptre for a pilgrim's walking stick;

all my subjects for a pair of statues of saints,

and my great kingdom for a little grave,

a little little grave, an obscure grave,

or I'll be buried in the king's highway,

on some common trade route, where the feet of my subjects

can trample over their king's head by the hour;

for where I am now they are treading on my heart:

once I'm buried, why not on my head?

Aumerle, my tenderhearted cousin, you’re weeping!

We'll make a storm with hated tears;

those and our sighs will beat down the summer corn,

and cause a famine in this rebellious land.

Or shall we be light-hearted with our sorrows,

and make some pretty game with our falling tears?

Like letting them all drop in one place,

until they have gouged out a pair of graves for us

in the earth, and we are placed within them–there lie

two kinsmen who dug their graves with their own tears!

Wouldn't that be funny? Well, well, I see

I'm just joking, and you laugh at me.

Most mighty Prince, my Lord Northumberland,

what does King Bolingbroke say? Will his Majesty

give Richard permission to live until Richard dies?

You go and ask him, and Bolingbroke will say “yes".

NORTHUMBERLAND.

My lord, in the base court he doth attend

To speak with you; may it please you to come down?

My lord, he is waiting to speak with you in the

lower courtyard; would you please come down?

KING RICHARD.

Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaethon,

Wanting the manage of unruly jades.

In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,

To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace.

In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!

For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.

Down, down I come, like shining Phaeton,

unable to manage the unruly horses.

In the lower court? Low court, where kings become low,

answering the summonses of traitors, bowing down to them.

In the lower court? Come down? Down, court! Down, King!

Night owls are howling when ascending larks should be singing.

Exeunt from above

BOLINGBROKE.

What says his Majesty?

What does his Majesty say?

NORTHUMBERLAND.

Sorrow and grief of heart

Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man;

Yet he is come.

Sorrow and heartfelt grief

make him speak foolishly, like a madman;

but he is coming.

Enter the KING, and his attendants, below

BOLINGBROKE.

Stand all apart,

And show fair duty to his Majesty. [He kneels down]

My gracious lord-

Everybody stand aside,

and show due respect to his Majesty.

My gracious lord–

KING RICHARD.

Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee

To make the base earth proud with kissing it.

Me rather had my heart might feel your love

Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.

Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,

[Touching his own head] Thus high at least, although your

knee be low.

Fair cousin, you are insulting your princely knee

by kissing the lowly earth with it.

I would rather that my heart felt your love

than my unimpressed eye see your formal politeness.

Get up cousin, up; I know in your heart you think

that you are at least as high as me, however low

you bend your knees.

BOLINGBROKE.

My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.

My gracious lord, I've only come to claim what is mine.

KING RICHARD.

Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.

You have what's yours, and I am yours, and so is everything.

BOLINGBROKE.

So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,

As my true service shall deserve your love.

I only want, my most respected lord,

whatever you think I deserve for my true service.

KING RICHARD.

Well you deserve. They well deserve to have

That know the strong'st and surest way to get.

Uncle, give me your hands; nay, dry your eyes:

Tears show their love, but want their remedies.

Cousin, I am too young to be your father,

Though you are old enough to be my heir.

What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;

For do we must what force will have us do.

Set on towards London. Cousin, is it so?

You deserve much. Anyone who knows the

strongest and surest way to get what they want deserves to have it.

Uncle, give me your hands; no, dry your eyes:

tears show love, but don't help anyone.

Cousin, I am too young to be your father,

although you are old enough to take my position.

I'll give you whatever you want, and willingly;

for I must do whatever force tells me to do.

Let's march towards London. Cousin, is that what you want?

BOLINGBROKE.

Yea, my good lord.

Yes, my good lord.

KING RICHARD.

Then I must not say no.

Then I must agree.

Flourish. Exeunt

The DUKE OF YORK's garden

Enter the QUEEN and two LADIES

QUEEN.

What sport shall we devise here in this garden

To drive away the heavy thought of care?

What game shall we play here in this garden

to rid ourselves of our unhappiness?

LADY.

Madam, we'll play at bowls.

Madam, we'll have a game of bowls.

QUEEN.

'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs

And that my fortune runs against the bias.

It will remind me that the world is full of rough spots

and that my luck curves away from me.

LADY.

Madam, we'll dance.

Madam, we'll dance.

QUEEN.

My legs can keep no measure in delight,

When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief;

Therefore no dancing, girl; some other sport.

My legs cannot enjoy delightful music,

when there is no music in my heart;

so no dancing, girl; some other game.

LADY.

Madam, we'll tell tales.

Madam, we can tell stories.

QUEEN.

Of sorrow or of joy?

Sad ones or happy ones?

LADY.

Of either, madam.

Either sort, madam.

QUEEN.

Of neither, girl;

For if of joy, being altogether wanting,

It doth remember me the more of sorrow;

Or if of grief, being altogether had,

It adds more sorrow to my want of joy;

For what I have I need not to repeat,

And what I want it boots not to complain.

Neither sort, girl;

a happy one would remind me of my sorrow,

as I'm completely lacking in happiness;

or a sad one, having a full weight of sadness,