The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (53 page)

Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,

The time shall not be many hours of age

More than it is, ere foul sin gathering head

Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think

Though he divide the realm and give thee half

It is too little, helping him to all;

And he shall think that thou, which knowest the way

To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,

Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way

To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.

The love of wicked men converts to fear;

That fear to hate; and hate turns one or both

To worthy danger and deserved death.

Northumberland, you ladder with which

the climbing Bolingbroke gets onto my throne,

it won't be very far in the future

before foul sin gathers pace

and explodes into destruction. Even if he

splits the kingdom and gives you half you will think

it is too little, since you helped him to get the whole thing;

and he shall think that you, who knows the way

to install kings who have no right to be there, will,

with just a little provocation, know how to find

a way of throwing him headlong from his stolen throne.

The love of wicked men converts itself to fear,

fear turns to hate, and that hate brings one or both

the danger and death they deserve.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

My guilt be on my head, and there an end.

Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith.

I take responsibility for my guilt, that's the end of it.

Say goodbye, and go; you must part at once.

KING RICHARD.

Doubly divorc'd! Bad men, you violate

A twofold marriage-'twixt my crown and me,

And then betwixt me and my married wife.

Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;

And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.

Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,

Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;

My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp,

She came adorned hither like sweet May,

Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day.

Divorced twice! Bad men, you have broken

two marriages–the one between me and my crown,

and then the one between me and my married wife.

Let me kiss away the promise between you and me;

and yet I can't, because it was made with a kiss.

Pull us apart, Northumberland; I go north,

where shivering cold and disease fills the air;

my wife goes to France, from where she set out with great ceremony,

when she came here she was like a sweet May day,

she is sent back like Halloween or the shortest day.

QUEEN.

And must we be divided? Must we part?

And must we be split up? Must we part?

KING RICHARD.

Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from

heart.

Yes my love, hand from hand and heart from heart.

QUEEN.

Banish us both, and send the King with me.

Banish us both, and send the King with me.

NORTHUMBERLAND.

That were some love, but little policy.

That would show love, but not sense.

QUEEN.

Then whither he goes thither let me go.

Then let me go with him.

KING RICHARD.

So two, together weeping, make one woe.

Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;

Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.

Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.

So two, weeping together, make one sorrow.

You weep for me in France, I shall weep for you here;

better to be far apart than close but not close enough.

Go, measure your journey with sighs; I shall measure mine with groans.

QUEEN.

So longest way shall have the longest moans.

So the longest journey will have the longest moans.

KING RICHARD.

Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being

short,

And piece the way out with a heavy heart.

Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,

Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.

One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;

Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.

As I'm going the shortest way, I will groan twice with every step,

and measure my way with a heavy heart.

Come, come, let's be brief in our wooing of sorrow,

as when we marry it our grief will be so long.

Close our mouths with one kiss, and part in silence;

so I give you mine, and I take your heart.

QUEEN.

Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part

To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.

So, now I have mine own again, be gone,

That I may strive to kill it with a groan.

Give me mine back; it's not fair

to ask me to keep and kill your heart.

So, I have my own back, now go,

so that I can try to kill it with a groan.

KING RICHARD.

We make woe wanton with this fond delay.

Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.

We are making sorrow grow with this tender foolish delay.

Once more, goodbye; let sorrow say the rest.

Exeunt

The DUKE OF YORK's palace

Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUCHESS

DUCHESS.

My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,

When weeping made you break the story off,

Of our two cousins' coming into London.

My lord, you told me you would tell me the rest

of the story of our cousins' arrival in London,

when your weeping made you break off the story.

YORK.

Where did I leave?

How far had I got?

DUCHESS.

At that sad stop, my lord,

Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops

Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.

To that sad point, my lord,

when vulgar badly ruled hands threw dust

and rubbish on King Richard's head from their windows.

YORK.

Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke,

Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed

Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,

With slow but stately pace kept on his course,

Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!'

You would have thought the very windows spake,

So many greedy looks of young and old

Through casements darted their desiring eyes

Upon his visage; and that all the walls

With painted imagery had said at once

'Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke!'

Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,

Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck,

Bespake them thus, 'I thank you, countrymen.'

And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke,

mounted on a hot and fiery horse

which seemed to sympathise with its aspiring rider,

kept on his way with a slow but regal pace,

while everybody cried ‘God save you, Bolingbroke!’

You would have thought the windows themselves were speaking,

so many, both young and old, greedily wanted to

get a glimpse of his face; you would have thought all the walls

were covered with posters which all read

‘Jesus save you! Welcome, Bolingbroke!’

Meanwhile he, turning from one side to the other,

bareheaded, bowed lower than the neck of his proud horse,

spoke these words, ‘I thank you, countrymen.’

And so he did this and moved along.

DUCHESS.

Alack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst?

Alas, poor Richard! Where was he riding while this was going on?

YORK.

As in a theatre the eyes of men

After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage

Are idly bent on him that enters next,

Thinking his prattle to be tedious;

Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes

Did scowl on gentle Richard; no man cried 'God save him!'

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home;

But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;

Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,

His face still combating with tears and smiles,

The badges of his grief and patience,

That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd

The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,

And barbarism itself have pitied him.

But heaven hath a hand in these events,

To whose high will we bound our calm contents.

To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,

Whose state and honour I for aye allow.

It was as if in a theatre when a

skilful actor leaves the stage, and the audience

glances at the one who comes on next,

finding his prattle tedious;

that was how, or with even more contempt, men

scowled on gentle Richard; no man cried ‘God save him!’

No happy tongue welcomed him home;

but dust was thrown upon his sacred head;

which he shook off with such gentle sadness,

his face alternating between tears and smiles,

the signs of his sorrow and endurance,

that if God had not, for some great purpose, hardened

the hearts of men, they would surely have melted,

and even barbarians would have pitied him.

But heaven orders these events,

and we must be happy to follow them.

We are now sworn subjects of Bolingbroke,

and I now recognise his position.

DUCHESS.

Here comes my son Aumerle.

Here comes my son Aumerle.

YORK.

Aumerle that was

But that is lost for being Richard's friend,

And madam, you must call him Rutland now.

I am in Parliament pledge for his truth

And lasting fealty to the new-made king.