The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (56 page)

Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow.

His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;

Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.

Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have

That mercy which true prayer ought to have.

Is he serious? Look at his face;

there are no tears in his eyes, his please are a joke;

his words come from his mouth, ours from our hearts.

He's only praying weakly and wants to be rejected;

we are praying with heart and soul and everything else.

I know he would gladly get off his knees;

ours shall stay kneeling until they grow into the ground.

His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;

ours have true passion and deep integrity.

Our prayers are out praying his; so grant them

the mercy which true prayer ought to gain.

BOLINGBROKE.

Good aunt, stand up.

Good aunt, stand up.

DUCHESS.

Do not say 'stand up';

Say 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.'

An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,

'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.

I never long'd to hear a word till now;

Say 'pardon,' King; let pity teach thee how.

The word is short, but not so short as sweet;

No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.

Do not say ‘stand up’;

First say you have pardoned him, then tell me to stand up.

If I were your nurse, teaching you to speak,

‘pardon’ would be the first word you learned.

I never longed to hear a word until now;

say ‘pardon,’ King; let pity teach you how.

The word is short, but not as short as it is sweet;

‘pardon' is the most fitting word for the mouth of a king.

YORK.

Speak it in French, King, say 'pardonne moy.'

Says in French, King, say ' pardonne moy.'

DUCHESS.

Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?

Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,

That sets the word itself against the word!

Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;

The chopping French we do not understand.

Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there;

Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear,

That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,

Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.

Are you trying to teach forgiveness to destroy forgiveness?

Ah, my sour husband, my hardhearted Lord,

who puts one word against another!

Say ‘pardon’ the way we say it in our country;

the changing French we do not understand.

Your eye begins to show pity, let your tongue copy it;

or put your pitying heart in your ear,

so that on hearing our pleas and prayers

pity can make you say ‘pardon’.

BOLINGBROKE.

Good aunt, stand up.

Good aunt, stand up.

DUCHESS.

I do not sue to stand;

Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

I am not pleading to be allowed to stand;

pardon is the only thing I'm interested in.

BOLINGBROKE.

I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.

I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.

DUCHESS.

O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!

Yet am I sick for fear. Speak it again.

Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,

But makes one pardon strong.

Oh the happy advantage gained from kneeling!

But I am sick with fear. Say it again.

Saying pardon twice does not divide it,

it makes it stronger.

BOLINGBROKE.

With all my heart

I pardon him.

With all my heart

I pardon him.

DUCHESS.

A god on earth thou art.

You are God on earth.

BOLINGBROKE.

But for our trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot,

With all the rest of that consorted crew,

Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.

Good uncle, help to order several powers

To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are.

They shall not live within this world, I swear,

But I will have them, if I once know where.

Uncle, farewell; and, cousin, adieu;

Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.

Apart from my trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot,

all the rest who are mixed up in this plot

shall find themselves destroyed at once.

Good uncle, help to send various forces

to Oxford, or wherever these traitors are.

They shall not live in this world, I swear,

without me catching them, once I know where they are.

Uncle, farewell; and, cousin, goodbye;

your mother has prayed well, show you deserve it.

DUCHESS.

Come, my old son; I pray God make thee new.

Come, my old son; I pray to God to make you new.

Exeunt

Windsor Castle

Enter SIR PIERCE OF EXTON and a servant

EXTON.

Didst thou not mark the King, what words he spake?

'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'

Was it not so?

Didn't you notice the King, the words he spoke?

“Is there no friend who will rid me of this threat?"

Was that it?

SERVANT.

These were his very words.

Those were his very words.

EXTON.

'Have I no friend?' quoth he. He spake it twice

And urg'd it twice together, did he not?

“Have I no friend?" he said. He said it twice

and insisted on it twice, didn't he?

SERVANT.

He did.

He did.

EXTON.

And, speaking it, he wishtly look'd on me,

As who should say 'I would thou wert the man

That would divorce this terror from my heart';

Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go.

I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe.

And, when he said it, he looked at me hopefully,

as if he was saying, “I wish you were the man

who could remove the cloud hanging over me";

he meant the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go.

I am the King's friend, and will get rid of his enemy.

Exeunt

Pomfret Castle. The dungeon of the Castle

Enter KING RICHARD

KING RICHARD.

I have been studying how I may compare

This prison where I live unto the world

And, for because the world is populous

And here is not a creature but myself,

I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.

My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,

My soul the father; and these two beget

A generation of still-breeding thoughts,

And these same thoughts people this little world,

In humours like the people of this world,

For no thought is contented. The better sort,

As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd

With scruples, and do set the word itself

Against the word,

As thus: 'Come, little ones'; and then again,

'It is as hard to come as for a camel

To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'

Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot

Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails

May tear a passage through the flinty ribs

Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;

And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.

Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves

That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,

Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars

Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,

That many have and others must sit there;

And in this thought they find a kind of ease,

Bearing their own misfortunes on the back

Of such as have before endur'd the like.

Thus play I in one person many people,

And none contented. Sometimes am I king;

Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,

And so I am. Then crushing penury

Persuades me I was better when a king;

Then am I king'd again; and by and by

Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,

And straight am nothing. But whate'er I be,

Nor I, nor any man that but man is,

With nothing shall be pleas'd till he be eas'd

With being nothing.[The music plays]

Music do I hear?

Ha, ha! keep time. How sour sweet music is

When time is broke and no proportion kept!

So is it in the music of men's lives.

And here have I the daintiness of ear

To check time broke in a disorder'd string;

But, for the concord of my state and time,

Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;

For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock:

My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar

Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,

Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.

Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is

Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart,