The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (83 page)

of the highest seat, the majestic throne,

the ruling office of your ancestors,

your lucky state, and your birthright,

the ancestral glory of your royal house,

to allow a perverted line to take it;

while you indulge your mild unearthly thoughts–

which we now arouse for the good of the country–

the noble island is lacking her limbs;

her face is scarred with shame,

her royal stock has had low plants grafted to it,

and she has almost been pushed into the consuming gulf

of dark forgetfulness and deep oblivion;

to make things better, we earnestly ask

your gracious self to assume the responsibility

of governing this land of yours as a king,

not as Protector, steward, substitute,

or a low agent for someone else's profit,

but as your birthright, your territory, your own,

handed down through your bloodline.

Along with these citizens–

your very worshipful and loving friends,

and at their strong insistence–

I have come to persuade your Grace in this just cause.

RICHARD.

I cannot tell if to depart in silence

Or bitterly to speak in your reproof

Best fitteth my degree or your condition.

If not to answer, you might haply think

Tongue-tied ambition, not replying, yielded

To bear the golden yoke of sovereignty,

Which fondly you would here impose on me;

If to reprove you for this suit of yours,

So season'd with your faithful love to me,

Then, on the other side, I check'd my friends.

Therefore-to speak, and to avoid the first,

And then, in speaking, not to incur the last-

Definitively thus I answer you:

Your love deserves my thanks, but my desert

Unmeritable shuns your high request.

First, if all obstacles were cut away,

And that my path were even to the crown,

As the ripe revenue and due of birth,

Yet so much is my poverty of spirit,

So mighty and so many my defects,

That I would rather hide me from my greatness-

Being a bark to brook no mighty sea-

Than in my greatness covet to be hid,

And in the vapour of my glory smother'd.

But, God be thank'd, there is no need of me-

And much I need to help you, were there need.

The royal tree hath left us royal fruit

Which, mellow'd by the stealing hours of time,

Will well become the seat of majesty

And make, no doubt, us happy by his reign.

On him I lay that you would lay on me-

The right and fortune of his happy stars,

Which God defend that I should wring from him.

I can't decide if to leave in silence

or to bitterly reprimand you

would be most suited to my rank and your position.

If I didn't answer you might think

my ambition, by not replying, made me agree

to assume the golden burden of kingship

which you foolishly want to place on me;

if I reprimanded you for your request,

inspired as it is by your faithful love for me,

then, on the other hand, I might be insulting my friends.

So, I shall speak, and avoid the first accusation

and by speaking I shall avoid the last,

so I give you this definitive answer:

I must thank you for your love, but my

lack of merit rejects your great request.

Firstly, if there were no obstacles

to my taking the crown and I followed

my birthright to my inheritance,

my spirit is so poor,

I have so many great defects,

that I would rather reject my greatness–

I am a ship not made for the great oceans–

than cover my faults with greatness,

hide them beneath my glory.

But, thank God, you do not need me–

and I can't help you if you did.

The King has left descendants,

who, as they ripen over time,

will be well suited to the throne,

and no doubt make us happy in their reign.

I give to him what you want to give to me:

his rightful inheritance,

and God forfend that I should take it from him.

BUCKINGHAM.

My lord, this argues conscience in your

Grace;

But the respects thereof are nice and trivial,

All circumstances well considered.

You say that Edward is your brother's son.

So say we too, but not by Edward's wife;

For first was he contract to Lady Lucy-

Your mother lives a witness to his vow-

And afterward by substitute betroth'd

To Bona, sister to the King of France.

These both put off, a poor petitioner,

A care-craz'd mother to a many sons,

A beauty-waning and distressed widow,

Even in the afternoon of her best days,

Made prize and purchase of his wanton eye,

Seduc'd the pitch and height of his degree

To base declension and loath'd bigamy.

By her, in his unlawful bed, he got

This Edward, whom our manners call the Prince.

More bitterly could I expostulate,

Save that, for reverence to some alive,

I give a sparing limit to my tongue.

Then, good my lord, take to your royal self

This proffer'd benefit of dignity;

If not to bless us and the land withal,

Yet to draw forth your noble ancestry

From the corruption of abusing times

Unto a lineal true-derived course.

My Lord, this shows good feeling in your Grace;

but all things considered your objections

are slight and trivial.

You say that Edward is your brother's son:

and we agree–but not the son of his wife.

For he was first engaged to Lady Lucy

(your mother is a living witness to his promise),

and afterwards he was, through a stand-in, engaged

to Bona, sister of the King of France.

Avoiding both of these, a poor beggar,

the mother of many sons, mad through care,

a faded beauty, a distressed widow,

with her best days behind her,

managed to capture his lusty eye,

and seduce his great position

to low things and horrible bigamy.

In his unlawful bed he conceived through her

this Edward, whom we politely call the Prince.

I could speak more bitterly,

but respect for some people still alive

makes me curb my tongue.

So, my good lord, take to your royal self

the position which we offer you:

if not to do both us and the country good,

to lead your noble bloodline away

from the corruption of these bad times

back to the proper course of its descent.

MAYOR.

Do, good my lord; your citizens entreat you.

Do, my good lord; your citizens are begging you.

BUCKINGHAM.

Refuse not, mighty lord, this proffer'd love.

Don't refuse the love we offer you, mighty lord.

CATESBY.

O, make them joyful, grant their lawful suit!

Oh, give them joy, agree to their lawful requests!

RICHARD.

Alas, why would you heap this care on me?

I am unfit for state and majesty.

I do beseech you, take it not amiss:

I cannot nor I will not yield to you.

Alas, why do you want to load this burden on me?

I am not fit for kingship and for rule.

I beg you not to be offended:

I cannot and I will not agree.

BUCKINGHAM.

If you refuse it-as, in love and zeal,

Loath to depose the child, your brother's son;

As well we know your tenderness of heart

And gentle, kind, effeminate remorse,

Which we have noted in you to your kindred

And equally indeed to all estates-

Yet know, whe'er you accept our suit or no,

Your brother's son shall never reign our king;

But we will plant some other in the throne

To the disgrace and downfall of your house;

And in this resolution here we leave you.

Come, citizens. Zounds, I'll entreat no more.

If you refuse it–through love and piety,

not wanting to overthrow the child, the son of your brother;

we are well aware of your tender heart

and your gentle, kind, womanish penitence,

which we have seen you show to your family

and indeed just as much to all people–

you should know that whether you agree or not,

your brother's son shall never reign as our King;

we shall put someone else on the throne

which will lead to the disgrace and downfall of your house;

we shall leave you here and do this.

Come, citizens. By God, I shall beg no more.

RICHARD.

O, do not swear, my lord of Buckingham.

Oh, do not swear, my Lord of Buckingham!

Exeunt BUCKINGHAM, MAYOR, and citizens

CATESBY.

Call him again, sweet Prince, accept their suit.

If you deny them, all the land will rue it.

Call him back, sweet prince, accept their request.

If you refuse them, the whole country will regret it.

RICHARD.

Will you enforce me to a world of cares?

Call them again. I am not made of stones,

But penetrable to your kind entreaties,

Albeit against my conscience and my soul.

Re-enter BUCKINGHAM and the rest

Cousin of Buckingham, and sage grave men,

Since you will buckle fortune on my back,

To bear her burden, whe'er I will or no,

I must have patience to endure the load;

But if black scandal or foul-fac'd reproach

Attend the sequel of your imposition,

Your mere enforcement shall acquittance me

From all the impure blots and stains thereof;

For God doth know, and you may partly see,

How far I am from the desire of this.

Do you want me to accept a world of trouble?

Call them back. I am not made of stone,

but I am affected by your kind requests,

even though they are against my conscience and my soul.

My cousin Buckingham, and you wise respected men,

since you insist on placing this burden of fate

on my back, whether I want it or not,

I must be strong enough to accept it;

but if scandal or criticism comes my way

as a result of your imposition,

the fact that you have forced me shall make me

innocent of the dark stain of that;

for God knows, and you can partly see,

how much I do not want this.

MAYOR.

God bless your Grace! We see it, and will say it.

God bless your Grace! We can see it, and will tell everyone.

RICHARD.

In saying so, you shall but say the truth.