The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (32 page)

 

GAUNT.

Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.

As much good stay with thee as go with me!

 

Sister, farewell; I must go to Coventry.

May as much good stay with you as goes with me!

 

DUCHESS.

Yet one word more- grief boundeth where it falls,

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight.

I take my leave before I have begun,

For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.

Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.

Lo, this is all- nay, yet depart not so;

Though this be all, do not so quickly go;

I shall remember more. Bid him- ah, what?-

With all good speed at Plashy visit me.

Alack, and what shall good old York there see

But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,

Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?

And what hear there for welcome but my groans?

Therefore commend me; let him not come there

To seek out sorrow that dwells every where.

Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die;

The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

 

Just one more word–grief bounces when it falls,

not through its empty hollowness, but because of its weight.

I'm leaving before I have begun,

for sorrow is not over just because it seems to be.

Remember me to your brother Edmund York.

That's all–no, don't go like that,

though this is all, don't go so quickly;

I'll remember other things. Tell him–ah, what?–

To come and see me at Plashy as soon as he can.

Alas, and what shall good old York see there

apart from empty rooms and bare walls,

servants’ quarters without servants, untrodden floors?

What welcome will he hear there except for my groans?

So remember him to me; don't let him go

to that place that is so full of sorrow.

I will go there all alone, and all alone I shall die;

this is the last time my weeping eyes shall see you.

 

Exeunt

 

 

The lists at Coventry

 

Enter the LORD MARSHAL and the DUKE OF AUMERLE

 

MARSHAL.

My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?

 

My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?

 

AUMERLE.

Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.

 

Yes, fully; he's eager to get started.

 

MARSHAL.

The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,

Stays but the summons of the appelant's trumpet.

 

The Duke of Norfolk, lively and brave,

is just waiting for the summons of the trumpet.

 
 

AUMERLE.

Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and stay

For nothing but his Majesty's approach.

 

Well then, the fighters are ready, we just need

to wait for the arrival of his Majesty.

 

 The trumpets sound, and the KING enters with his nobles,

 GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set,

 enter MOWBRAY, Duke of Nor folk, in arms, defendant, and

 a HERALD

 

KING RICHARD.

Marshal, demand of yonder champion

The cause of his arrival here in arms;

Ask him his name; and orderly proceed

To swear him in the justice of his cause.

 

Marshal, ask that knight over there

why he has come here armoured;

ask him his name; and according to the rules

ask him to swear that his cause is just.

 

MARSHAL.

In God's name and the King's, say who thou art,

And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms;

Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel.

Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath;

As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!

 

In the name of God and the King, say who you are,

and why you have come here armoured as a knight;

say who you have come to fight, and what your quarrel is with him.

Speak truthfully for your knighthood and your oath;

and so may heaven and your bravery defend you!

 

MOWBRAY.

My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk;

Who hither come engaged by my oath-

Which God defend a knight should violate!-

Both to defend my loyalty and truth

To God, my King, and my succeeding issue,

Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me;

And, by the grace of God and this mine arm,

To prove him, in defending of myself,

A traitor to my God, my King, and me.

And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

 

My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk;

I have come here to fulfil the oath I swore–

May God never let a knight break his oath!–

To show both my loyalty and my honesty

to God, my King, and my descendants,

against the Duke of Hereford who accuses me;

and, by the grace of God and with the help of my strength,

to show him, in defending myself,

to be a traitor to my God, my king, and to me.

And as I am fighting for truth, may heaven defend me!

 

The trumpets sound. Enter BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford,

appellant, in armour, and a HERALD

 

KING RICHARD.

Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,

Both who he is and why he cometh hither

Thus plated in habiliments of war;

And formally, according to our law,

Depose him in the justice of his cause.

 

Marshal, asked that armoured knight

who he is and why he has come here

dressed ready for war;

and, according to the law,

make him swear to the justice of his cause.

 

MARSHAL.

What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither

Before King Richard in his royal lists?

Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel?

Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!

 

What is your name? And why have you come here

before King Richard in his royal jousting field?

Who have you come to fight? What's your quarrel?

Speak like a true knight, and may heaven help you!

 

BOLINGBROKE.

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

Am I; who ready here do stand in arms

To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,

In lists on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,

To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me.

And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

 

I am Harry of Hereford, Lancaster,

and Derby; I have come here with my armour

to prove, by the grace of God and my own bravery,

by fighting Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

that he is a traitor, foul and dangerous

to the God of heaven, King Richard, and to me.

And as I am fighting for truth, may heaven defend me!

 

MARSHAL.

On pain of death, no person be so bold

Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,

Except the Marshal and such officers

Appointed to direct these fair designs.

 

Let no person, on pain of death, be so bold

or foolhardy as to interfere with the proceedings,

except for the Marshal and the officers

appointed to run this affair.

 

BOLINGBROKE.

Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand,

And bow my knee before his Majesty;

For Mowbray and myself are like two men

That vow a long and weary pilgrimage.

Then let us take a ceremonious leave

And loving farewell of our several friends.

 

Lord Marshal, let me kiss the hand of my king,

and kneel before his Majesty;

Mowbray and myself are like two men

who have sworn to go on a long and tiring pilgrimage.

So let us have a formal leavetaking

and bid a loving farewell to all our friends.

 

MARSHAL.

The appellant in all duty greets your Highness,

And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.

 

The plaintiff pays his respects to your Highness,

and asks if he can kiss your hand and bid you farewell.

 

KING RICHARD.

We will descend and fold him in our arms.

Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,

So be thy fortune in this royal fight!

Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,

Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

 

I shall come down and embrace him.

My cousin Hereford, may you have whatever fortune

your cause deserves in this royal fight!

Farewell, relative; if you spill your blood today,

we may grieve for it, but we cannot take revenge.

 

BOLINGBROKE.

O, let no noble eye profane a tear

For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear.

As confident as is the falcon's flight

Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.

My loving lord, I take my leave of you;

Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;

Not sick, although I have to do with death,

But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.

Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet

The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.

O thou, the earthly author of my blood,

Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,

Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up

To reach at victory above my head,

Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers,

And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,

That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat

And furbish new the name of John o' Gaunt,

Even in the lusty haviour of his son.

 

Oh, let no noble eye shed any tears

for me, if I am wounded by Mowbray's spear!

In this fight against Mowbray I am as confident as a falcon

when it attacks a bird.

My loving lord, I bid you farewell;

the same to you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;

I am not sick, although I am facing death,

I am lusty, young, and happy.

Now, as in English banquets, I shall take

the sweetest thing last, to make the end sweetest.

Oh you, the procreator of my blood,

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