The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (90 page)

my tongue should not be speaking the names of my boys to you

until my nails were scratching out your eyes;

and I, a poor ship with all its tackle gone,

smash myself to pieces on your rocky heart

in this desperate bay of death.

KING RICHARD.

Madam, so thrive I in my enterprise

And dangerous success of bloody wars,

As I intend more good to you and yours

Than ever you or yours by me were harm'd!

Madam, if I succeed in this business

of dangerous and bloody war,

I plan for you and yours to receive more good

from me than you ever got harm.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

What good is cover'd with the face of

heaven,

To be discover'd, that can do me good?

What good is hiding behind the clouds,

that when revealed could do me good?

KING RICHARD.

Advancement of your children, gentle

lady.

Advancement of your children, gentle lady.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Up to some scaffold, there to lose their

heads?

Advancement up some scaffold, where they will lose their heads?

KING RICHARD.

Unto the dignity and height of Fortune,

The high imperial type of this earth's glory.

Up to the greatest position available,

the greatest glory available on earth.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Flatter my sorrow with report of it;

Tell me what state, what dignity, what honour,

Canst thou demise to any child of mine?

Please my sorrow by telling me about it;

tell me what position, what dignity, what honour

you can award to any child of mine?

KING RICHARD.

Even all I have-ay, and myself and all

Will I withal endow a child of thine;

So in the Lethe of thy angry soul

Thou drown the sad remembrance of those wrongs

Which thou supposest I have done to thee.

I will give all I have, myself as well,

to the child of yours;

so drown your sad memory of the wrongs

which you imagine I have done to you

in the river of forgetfulness of your angry soul.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Be brief, lest that the process of thy

kindness

Last longer telling than thy kindness' date.

Speak quickly, in case your actual kindness doesn't last

as long as the time it takes you to tell it.

KING RICHARD.

Then know, that from my soul I love thy

daughter.

Then know that I love your daughter with all my soul.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

My daughter's mother thinks it with her

soul.

My daughter's mother thinks it with her soul.

KING RICHARD.

What do you think?

What do you think?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

That thou dost love my daughter from

thy soul.

So from thy soul's love didst thou love her brothers,

And from my heart's love I do thank thee for it.

That you love my daughter something other than your soul.

The same soulful love you had for her brothers,

and I thank you for it with something other than my heart's love.

KING RICHARD.

Be not so hasty to confound my meaning.

I mean that with my soul I love thy daughter

And do intend to make her Queen of England.

Don't be so quick to misunderstand me.

I mean that with my soul I love your daughter

and I intend to make her Queen of England.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Well, then, who dost thou mean shall be

her king?

Well who do you intend to be her king?

KING RICHARD.

Even he that makes her Queen. Who else

should be?

The person who makes her queen. Who else would it be?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

What, thou?

What, you?

KING RICHARD.

Even so. How think you of it?

That's right. What do you think of it?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

How canst thou woo her?

How can you woo her?

KING RICHARD.

That would I learn of you,

As one being best acquainted with her humour.

That's what I want you to tell me,

you knowing her personality best.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

And wilt thou learn of me?

And will you learn from me?

KING RICHARD.

Madam, with all my heart.

Madam, with all my heart.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Send to her, by the man that slew her

brothers,

A pair of bleeding hearts; thereon engrave

'Edward' and 'York.' Then haply will she weep;

Therefore present to her-as sometimes Margaret

Did to thy father, steep'd in Rutland's blood-

A handkerchief; which, say to her, did drain

The purple sap from her sweet brother's body,

And bid her wipe her weeping eyes withal.

If this inducement move her not to love,

Send her a letter of thy noble deeds;

Tell her thou mad'st away her uncle Clarence,

Her uncle Rivers; ay, and for her sake

Mad'st quick conveyance with her good aunt Anne.

Send her, via the man who killed her brothers,

a pair of bleeding hearts; scratch on them

‘Edward’ and ‘York.’ Then maybe she will weep;

so give her–as sometimes Margaret

did to your father, soaked in Rutland's blood–

a handkerchief; tell her that it mopped up

the blood from her sweet brother's body,

and tell her to wipe her weeping eyes with it.

If this doesn't make her love you,

send a letter telling her of your noble deeds;

tell her that you killed her uncle Clarence,

her uncle Rivers; yes, and for her sake

you quickly got rid of her good aunt Anne.

KING RICHARD.

You mock me, madam; this is not the way

To win your daughter.

You're mocking me, madam; this isn't the way

to win over your daughter.

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

There is no other way;

Unless thou couldst put on some other shape

And not be Richard that hath done all this.

There is no other way;

unless you can assume some other shape

and not be the Richard who has done all these things.

KING RICHARD.

Say that I did all this for love of her?

What if I did all these things out of love for her?

QUEEN ELIZABETH.

Nay, then indeed she cannot choose but

hate thee,

Having bought love with such a bloody spoil.

No, then she would have no choice but to hate you,

as you had bought her love with such bloody coin.

KING RICHARD.

Look what is done cannot be now amended.

Men shall deal unadvisedly sometimes,

Which after-hours gives leisure to repent.

If I did take the kingdom from your sons,

To make amends I'll give it to your daughter.

If I have kill'd the issue of your womb,

To quicken your increase I will beget

Mine issue of your blood upon your daughter.

A grandam's name is little less in love

Than is the doating title of a mother;

They are as children but one step below,

Even of your metal, of your very blood;

Of all one pain, save for a night of groans

Endur'd of her, for whom you bid like sorrow.

Your children were vexation to your youth;

But mine shall be a comfort to your age.

The loss you have is but a son being King,

And by that loss your daughter is made Queen.

I cannot make you what amends I would,

Therefore accept such kindness as I can.

Dorset your son, that with a fearful soul

Leads discontented steps in foreign soil,

This fair alliance quickly shall can home

To high promotions and great dignity.

The King, that calls your beauteous daughter wife,

Familiarly shall call thy Dorset brother;

Again shall you be mother to a king,

And all the ruins of distressful times

Repair'd with double riches of content.

What! we have many goodly days to see.

The liquid drops of tears that you have shed

Shall come again, transform'd to orient pearl,

Advantaging their loan with interest

Of ten times double gain of happiness.

Go, then, my mother, to thy daughter go;

Make bold her bashful years with your experience;

Prepare her ears to hear a wooer's tale;

Put in her tender heart th' aspiring flame

Of golden sovereignty; acquaint the Princes

With the sweet silent hours of marriage joys.

And when this arm of mine hath chastised

The petty rebel, dull-brain'd Buckingham,

Bound with triumphant garlands will I come,

And lead thy daughter to a conqueror's bed;

To whom I will retail my conquest won,

And she shall be sole victoress, Caesar's Caesar.

Whatever has been done cannot now be changed:

men sometimes do the wrong thing,

which they may later regret.

If I took the kingdom from your sons,

to make amends I'll give it to your daughter;

if I have killed your children,

to revive your family tree I shall create

children of your blood with your daughter.

The name of grandmother is loved almost as much

as the sweet title of mother;

grandchildren are children just one step removed;

they will be of the same substance as you, of your blood;

you will take the same trouble for them, apart from a night of labour

which she will suffer, which you previously suffered for her.

Your children were troublesome in your youth,

but mine shall comfort you in your old-age;

all you have lost is having a king as a son,

and through that loss your daughter will become Queen.

I can’t make it up to you as I would like:

so accept what kindness I can offer.

Your son Dorset, who with a fearful soul

is walking unhappily in foreign lands,

will be quickly summoned home by this sweet alliance

to be given high promotion and great dignity.

The King who calls your beautiful daughter his wife

shall in friendship call Dorset his brother;

you will be mother to a king again,

and all the damage of sorrowful times