The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (62 page)

If I thought that was true, I tell you, murderer,

that I would tear my looks to bits with my nails.

RICHARD.

These eyes could not endure that beauty's wreck;

You should not blemish it if I stood by.

As all the world is cheered by the sun,

So I by that; it is my day, my life.

My eyes could not tolerate the wreck of your beauty;

if I was there you would not be allowed to damage it.

It cheers up my whole day, my whole life

in the same way the world is cheered by the sun.

ANNE.

Black night o'ershade thy day, and death thy life!

May black night overshadow your day, and death your life!

RICHARD.

Curse not thyself, fair creature; thou art both.

Do not curse yourself, beautiful creature; you are my day and my life.

ANNE.

I would I were, to be reveng'd on thee.

I wish I was, so I could get revenge on you.

RICHARD.

It is a quarrel most unnatural,

To be reveng'd on him that loveth thee.

It's most unnatural to want to

take revenge on someone who loves you.

ANNE.

It is a quarrel just and reasonable,

To be reveng'd on him that kill'd my husband.

It's entirely just and reasonable to want

to have revenge on the person who killed my husband.

RICHARD.

He that bereft thee, lady, of thy husband

Did it to help thee to a better husband.

Lady, the one who took your husband away,

did it so you could find a better husband.

ANNE.

His better doth not breathe upon the earth.

There isn't a better one alive.

RICHARD.

He lives that loves thee better than he could.

There is someone alive who loves you better than he could.

ANNE.

Name him.

Name him.

RICHARD.

Plantagenet.

Plantagenet.

ANNE.

Why, that was he.

Why, that was his name.

RICHARD.

The self-same name, but one of better nature.

The exact same name, but better made.

ANNE.

Where is he?

Where is he?

RICHARD.

Here.[She spits at him]Why dost thou spit

at me?

Here. Why are you spitting on me?

ANNE.

Would it were mortal poison, for thy sake!

I wish it was fatal poison, to get you!

RICHARD.

Never came poison from so sweet a place.

No poison ever came from such a sweet place.

ANNE.

Never hung poison on a fouler toad.

Out of my sight! Thou dost infect mine eyes.

And poison never hit a more horrible toad.

Get out of my sight! Thesight of you infects my eyes.

RICHARD.

Thine eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

Your eyes, sweet lady, have infected mine.

ANNE.

Would they were basilisks to strike thee dead!

I wish I had eyes like a basilisk, to strike you dead!

RICHARD.

I would they were, that I might die at once;

For now they kill me with a living death.

Those eyes of thine from mine have drawn salt tears,

Sham'd their aspects with store of childish drops-

These eyes, which never shed remorseful tear,

No, when my father York and Edward wept

To hear the piteous moan that Rutland made

When black-fac'd Clifford shook his sword at him;

Nor when thy warlike father, like a child,

Told the sad story of my father's death,

And twenty times made pause to sob and weep

That all the standers-by had wet their cheeks

Like trees bedash'd with rain-in that sad time

My manly eyes did scorn an humble tear;

And what these sorrows could not thence exhale

Thy beauty hath, and made them blind with weeping.

I never sued to friend nor enemy;

My tongue could never learn sweet smoothing word;

But, now thy beauty is propos'd my fee,

My proud heart sues, and prompts my tongue to speak.

 [She looks scornfully at him]

Teach not thy lip such scorn; for it was made

For kissing, lady, not for such contempt.

If thy revengeful heart cannot forgive,

Lo here I lend thee this sharp-pointed sword;

Which if thou please to hide in this true breast

And let the soul forth that adoreth thee,

I lay it naked to the deadly stroke,

And humbly beg the death upon my knee.

[He lays his breast open; she offers at it with his sword]

Nay, do not pause; for I did kill King Henry-

But 'twas thy beauty that provoked me.

Nay, now dispatch; 'twas I that stabb'd young Edward-

But 'twas thy heavenly face that set me on.

 [She falls the sword]

Take up the sword again, or take up me.

I wish they were, so I could die at once;

for seeing them now is a living death.

Those eyes of yours have drawn salt tears from mine,

shamed them with these childish drops;

these eyes, which never shed a tear of remorse,

not when my father York and Edward wept

to hear the terrible moans of Rutland

when black faced Clifford attacked him with his sword;

nor when your warlike father told me the

sad story of my father's death, and like a child,

twenty times had to pause and weep,

so that the cheeks of all the bystanders were soaked

like trees covered with rain. At that sad time

my manly eyes refused to shed low tears;

and your beauty has drawn out these things

which those sorrows could not, and you have made me blind with weeping.

I never begged either friend or enemy:

my tongue has never learnt how to speak smooth sweet words;

but now I am trying to gain your beauty,

my proud heart begs, and makes my tongue speak.

[She looks scornfully at him]

Don't curl your lip like that, for it was made

for kissing, lady, not to show such contempt.

If your vengeful heart can't forgive me,

here, I will lend you this sharp pointed sword,

and if you want to you can bury it into my

true heart, and release the soul of he who adores you,

I expose it here to the deadly blow,

and humbly beg for death on my knees.

[He exposes his chest and she points the sword at it]

No, do not pause, for I did kill King Henry–

but it was your beauty that inspired me.

No, do it: it was I who stabbed young Edward–

but it was your heavenly face that made me do it.

[She drops the sword]

Either pick up the sword or accept me.

ANNE.

Arise, dissembler; though I wish thy death,

I will not be thy executioner.

Get up, deceiver; although I want you dead,

I will not be your executioner.

RICHARD.

Then bid me kill myself, and I will do it.

Then tell me to kill myself, and I will do it.

ANNE.

I have already.

I have told you already.

RICHARD.

That was in thy rage.

Speak it again, and even with the word

This hand, which for thy love did kill thy love,

Shall for thy love kill a far truer love;

To both their deaths shalt thou be accessary.

That was when you were angry.

Tell me again, and as soon as you say it

this hand, which killed your love to get your love,

will, for love of you, kill a much truer love;

you will be accessory to both their deaths.

ANNE.

I would I knew thy heart.

I wish I knew what's in your heart.

RICHARD.

'Tis figur'd in my tongue.

You've heard what I have said.

ANNE.

I fear me both are false.

I fear both your heart and your tongue are false.

RICHARD.

Then never was man true.

Then no man was ever true.

ANNE.

Well, put up your sword.

Well, put away your sword.

RICHARD.

Say, then, my peace is made.

Then tell me that we are friends.

ANNE.

That shalt thou know hereafter.

You will know that afterwards.

RICHARD.

But shall I live in hope?

But can I have hopes?

ANNE.

All men, I hope, live so.

I hope that all men have hope.

RICHARD.

Vouchsafe to wear this ring.

Agree to wear this ring.

ANNE.

To take is not to give. [Puts on the ring]

Taking is not giving.

RICHARD.

Look how my ring encompasseth thy finger,

Even so thy breast encloseth my poor heart;

Wear both of them, for both of them are thine.

And if thy poor devoted servant may

But beg one favour at thy gracious hand,

Thou dost confirm his happiness for ever.

Look how my ringembraces your finger,

even as your breast embraces my poor heart;

wear both of them, as both of them are yours.

And if your poor devoted servant may

ask for just one favour from you,

you will make him happy forever.

ANNE.

What is it?

What is it?

RICHARD.

That it may please you leave these sad designs

To him that hath most cause to be a mourner,

And presently repair to Crosby House;

Where-after I have solemnly interr'd

At Chertsey monast'ry this noble king,

And wet his grave with my repentant tears-

I will with all expedient duty see you.

For divers unknown reasons, I beseech you,

Grant me this boon.

That you agree to leave these sad matters

to the one who has the most reason to be a mourner,

and go at once to Crosby House;

and after I have solemnly buried

this noble king at Chertsey monastery,

and wet his grave with my tears of repentance,

I will come to see you as soon as I can.

For many secret reasons, I beg you,