The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (204 page)

no one but him should be around the King;

and that makes the thunder brew up in his breast,

and makes him shout out these accusations.

But he will know that I am as good–

 

GLOUCESTER.

As good!

Thou bastard of my grandfather!

 

As good!

You bastard of my grandfather!

 

WINCHESTER.

Aye, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,

But one imperious in another's throne?

 

Yes, lordly sir; and what are you, tell me,

but someone who plays the King on another's throne?

 

GLOUCESTER.

Am I not protector, saucy priest?

 

Am I not the Regent, cheeky priest?

 

WINCHESTER.

And am not I a prelate of the church?

 

And am I not a Bishop of the church?

 

GLOUCESTER.

Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps

And useth it to patronage his theft.

 

Yes, like an outlaw who stays in a castle

and uses it to help his thievery.

 

WINCHESTER.

Unreverent Gloster!

 

Irreverent Gloucester!

 

GLOUCESTER.

Thou art reverent

Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.

 

You are reverent

when doing your spiritual job, not in your life.

 

WINCHESTER.

Rome shall remedy this.

 

Rome shall make you pay for this.

 

WARWICK.

Roam thither, then.

 

Go there then.

 

SOMERSET.

My lord, it were your duty to forbear.

 

My lord, you really must stop this.

 

WARWICK.

Ay, see the bishop be not overborne.

 

Yes, make sure the Bishop is not oppressed.

 

SOMERSET.

Methinks my lord should be religious,

And know the office that belongs to such.

 

I think my lord should be religious,

and show the respect religious men deserve.

 

WARWICK.

Methinks his lordship should be humbler;

It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.

 

I think his Lordship should be more humble:

it's not right for a Bishop to be accused like this.

 

SOMERSET.

Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near.

 

Yes, putting his holy status so much in question.

 

WARWICK.

State holy or unhallow'd, what of that?

Is not his grace protector to the king?

 

If his status is holy or unholy, what of it?

Isn't his grace the King's Regent?

 

PLANTAGENET.

[Aside] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,

Lest it be said, 'Speak, sirrah, when you should:

Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?'

Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

 

I see that Plantagenet must hold his tongue,

otherwise they'll say, “Speak, lad, when you're spoken to:

do your scandalous opinions have to be discussed by the Lords?"

Otherwise I would lay into Winchester.

 

KING.

Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester,

The special watchmen of our English weal,

I would prevail, if prayers might prevail,

To join your hearts in love and amity.

O, what a scandal is it to our crown,

That two such noble peers as ye should jar!

Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell

Civil dissension is a viperous worm

That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth.

[A noise within, 'Down with the tawny-coats!']

What tumult's this?

 

Uncles of Gloucestershire and of Winchester,

these special guardians of our English kingdom,

I wish, if prayers are answered,

to join your hearts in love and friendship.

It's a great offence to my crown,

that to such noble peers as you should argue!

Believe me, lords, even at my young age I know

that civil disputes are a poisonous snake

that chew on the innards of the Commonwealth.

 

What's this racket?

 

WARWICK.

An uproar, I dare warrant,

Begun through malice of the bishop's men.

 

A riot, I daresay,

started by the hatred of the Bishop's men.

 

[A noise again, 'Stones! stones!'

Enter Mayor.]

 

MAYOR.

O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,

Pity the city of London, pity us!

The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men,

Forbidden late to carry any weapon,

Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones,

And banding themselves in contrary parts

Do pelt so fast at one another's pate

That many have their giddy brains knock'd out:

Our windows are broke down in every street,

And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops.

 

Oh, my good lord, and good Henry,

pity the city of London, pity us!

The men of the Bishop and the Duke of Gloucester,

recently forbidden to carry any weapons,

have filled their pockets full of pebbles,

and grouping themselves into opposing gangs

are throwing them so hard at each other's heads

that many have had their stupid brains knocked out:

there are windows broken in every street,

and we have been forced to close the shops out of fear.

 

[Enter Serving-men, in skirmish, with bloody pates.]

 

KING.

We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,

To hold your slaughtering hands and keep the peace.

Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.

 

I order you, out of your loyalty to me,

to stop this slaughter and keep the peace.

Please, uncle Gloucester, end this disagreement.

 

FIRST SERVING-MAN.

Nay, if we be forbidden stones,

we 'll fall to it with our teeth.

 

No, if we are told we can't use stones,

we'll start fighting with our teeth.

 

SECOND SERVING-MAN.

Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.

 

Bring it on, we are as brave as you.

 

[Skirmish again.]

 

GLOUCESTER.

You of my household, leave this peevish broil

And set this unaccustom'd fight aside.

 

Those of you from my household, stop this childish argument

and let's have no more of this unusual fighting.

 

THIRD SERVING-MAN.

My lord, we know your grace to be a man

Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,

Inferior to none but to his Majesty:

And ere that we will suffer such a prince,

So kind a father of the commonweal,

To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,

We and our wives and children all will fight,

And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes.

 

My Lord, we know your grace is a just

and upright man; and, due to your royal birth,

you are inferior to nobody but his Majesty:

and before we will allow such a Prince,

such a great father to the country,

to be insulted by a lowborn clerk,

we and our wives and children will all fight,

and be slaughtered by your enemies.

 

FIRST SERVING-MAN.

Aye, and the very parings of our nails

Shall pitch a field when we are dead.

 

[Begin again.]

 

Yes, and when we are dead, our very

nail clippings can be used to build defences.

 

GLOUCESTER.

Stay, stay, I say!

And if you love me, as you say you do,

Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.

 

Stop, stop, I say!

If you love me as you claim you do,

do as I say and stop for a while.

 

KING.

O, how this discord doth afflict my soul!

Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold

My sighs and tears and will not once relent?

Who should be pitiful, if you be not?

Or who should study to prefer a peace,

If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

 

Oh, how this fighting upsets my soul!

My Lord Winchester, can you look at

my sighs and tears and still not stop it?

Who will show pity, if not you?

Who will make any effort to keep the peace,

if holy churchmen enjoy fighting?

 

WARWICK.

Yield, my lord protector; yield, Winchester;

Except you mean with obstinate repulse

To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.

You see what mischief and what murder too

Hath been enacted through your enmity;

Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.

 

Stop, my lord protector; stop, Winchester;

unless you mean with your obstinate refusal

to kill your King and destroy the kingdom.

You can see what mischief and what murder has

been caused by your opposition;

then be peaceful, unless you are desperate for bloodshed.

 

WINCHESTER.

He shall submit, or I will never yield.

 

He must obey, or I never will.

 

GLOUCESTER.

Compassion on the king commands me stoop;

Or I would see his heart out, ere the priest

Should ever get that privilege of me.

 

Compassion for the King makes me stop;

otherwise I would tear the heart out of

the priest, before I would surrender to him.

 

WARWICK.

Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke

Hath banish'd moody discontented fury,

As by his smoothed brows it doth appear:

Why look you still so stern and tragical?

 

See, my Lord of Winchester, the Duke

has dropped his moody unhappy fury,

as you can see by his unfurrowed brow:

why are you still looking so stern and tragic?

 

GLOUCESTER.

Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.

 

Here, Winchester, I offer you my hand.

 

KING.

Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach

That malice was a great and grievous sin;

And will not you maintain the thing you teach,

But prove a chief offender in the same?

 

Come, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preaching

that malice was a terrible sin;

will you not practice what you preach,

but show yourself one of the worst offenders?

 

WARWICK.

Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird.

For shame, my lord of Winchester, relent!

What, shall a child instruct you what to do?

 

Sweet King! That's the right way to reprove the Bishop.

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