The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) (46 page)

O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.

 

Oh, I should imagine it is the Bishop of Carlisle.

 

BOLINGBROKE.

[To NORTHUMBERLAND] Noble lord,

Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;

Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley

Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:

Henry Bolingbroke

On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand,

And sends allegiance and true faith of heart

To his most royal person; hither come

Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,

Provided that my banishment repeal'd

And lands restor'd again be freely granted;

If not, I'll use the advantage of my power

And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood

Rain'd from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen;

The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke

It is such crimson tempest should bedrench

The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,

My stooping duty tenderly shall show.

Go, signify as much, while here we march

Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.

[NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the Castle, with a

trumpet]

Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,

That from this castle's tottered battlements

Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.

Methinks King Richard and myself should meet

With no less terror than the elements

Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock

At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.

Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;

The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain

My waters-on the earth, and not on him.

March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.

 

Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish.

Enter on the walls, the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,

AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY

 

See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,

As doth the blushing discontented sun

From out the fiery portal of the east,

When he perceives the envious clouds are bent

To dim his glory and to stain the track

Of his bright passage to the occident.

 

Noble lord,

go to the rough walls of that ancient castle,

and through its ruined loopholes blow a trumpet

to announce your message, and tell them this:

Henry Bolingbroke

goes down on his knees and kisses King Richard's hand,

and sends assurances of his loyalty and faithfulness

to his royal person; I have come

to lay my arms and my forces at his feet,

provided that my banishment is repealed

and that he freely grants the restoration of my lands;

if he doesn't, I'll use my superior forces

to lay the summer's dust with showers of blood

raining from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen–

my kneeling to him like this shows

just how unwilling Bolingbroke is

that such a crimson storm should soak the

fresh green ground of fair King Richard’s land.

Go, tell him as much, while we exercise here

upon the grass of this plain.

Let us march without any drums threatening an advance,

so that from the tottering battlements of this castle

they will get a good view of our forces' strength.

I think King Richard and myself should meet

with no less fear than the elements

of fire and water, when they bring tears

to the cloudy cheeks of heaven with the thundering shock of their meeting.

He can be the fire, I'll be the surrendering water;

he can be angry, while I rain my waters

upon the earth–on the earth, and not on him.

March on, and take note of how King Richard looks.

 

See, see, King Richard himself appears,

like the red sun when it rises unhappily

from the fiery pillars of the East,

when it sees that the jealous clouds are determined

to dim his glory and to cover over

his bright journey to the West.

 

YORK.

Yet he looks like a king. Behold, his eye,

As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth

Controlling majesty. Alack, alack, for woe,

That any harm should stain so fair a show!

 

And yet he looks like a king. Look, his eye,

as bright as an eagle's, flashes out

his controlling majesty. Alas, alas, how sorrowful,

if any harm comes to such a fair picture!

 

KING RICHARD.

[To NORTHUMBERLAND] We are amaz'd; and thus long

have we stood

To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,

Because we thought ourself thy lawful King;

And if we be, how dare thy joints forget

To pay their awful duty to our presence?

If we be not, show us the hand of God

That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship;

For well we know no hand of blood and bone

Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,

Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.

And though you think that all, as you have done,

Have torn their souls by turning them from us,

And we are barren and bereft of friends,

Yet know-my master, God omnipotent,

Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf

Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike

Your children yet unborn and unbegot,

That lift your vassal hands against my head

And threat the glory of my precious crown.

Tell Bolingbroke, for yon methinks he stands,

That every stride he makes upon my land

Is dangerous treason; he is come to open

The purple testament of bleeding war;

But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,

Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons

Shall ill become the flower of England's face,

Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace

To scarlet indignation, and bedew

Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.

 

I am astonished, I have stood here for some time

waiting to see you bend your knee in respect,

because I thought I was your lawful king;

and if I am, how dare your limbs forget

to show their respects in my presence?

If I am not, show me the hand of God

that has dismissed me from my position;

for I am certain that no mortal hand

can grab the sacred handle of my sceptre,

unless he is blaspheming, stealing or rebelling.

And though you think that everyone has wounded

their souls, as you have done, by turning away from me,

and that I am powerless and friendless,

you should know, my master, omnipotent God,

is gathering plagues on my behalf

in his clouds, and they will strike

your as yet unborn children, unconceived,

you who lift your servant’s hands against my head,

and threaten the glory of my precious crown.

Tell Bolingbroke, for I think that's him over there,

that every step he takes in my country

is dangerous treason. He has come to open

the purple book of bloody war.

But before the crown he seeks can live in peace

ten thousand bloody heads of mothers' sons

shall stain the flowers of this English land,

changing the complexion of her maidenly pale peace

to scarlet anger, covering

the grass of her fields with the blood of good Englishmen.

 

NORTHUMBERLAND.

The King of Heaven forbid our lord the King

Should so with civil and uncivil arms

Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin,

Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand;

And by the honourable tomb he swears

That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,

And by the royalties of both your bloods,

Currents that spring from one most gracious head,

And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,

And by the worth and honour of himself,

Comprising all that may be sworn or said,

His coming hither hath no further scope

Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg

Enfranchisement immediate on his knees;

Which on thy royal party granted once,

His glittering arms he will commend to rust,

His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart

To faithful service of your Majesty.

This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;

And as I am a gentleman I credit him.

 

May God forbid that our lord the King

should be attacked in such a rough way

by his own citizens! Your trebly noble cousin,

Harry Bolingbroke, humbly kisses your hand,

and swears by the honourable tomb

that stands over your royal grandfather's bones,

and by the royal blood of both of you,

which streams from the same glorious spring,

and by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,

and by his own worth and honour,

by anything that can be sworn or said,

that he has only come here to claim

his rightful inheritance, and to beg

his immediate reinstatement on his knees,

and as soon as you, as King, agree to it,

he will leave his glittering weapons to rust,

send his warhorses back to the stables, and give his heart

to the faithful service of your Majesty.

He swears this as he is a prince and an honest man;

and, as a gentleman, I believe him.

 

KING RICHARD.

Northumberland, say thus the King returns:

His noble cousin is right welcome hither;

And all the number of his fair demands

Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction.

With all the gracious utterance thou hast

Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.

[To AUMERLE] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,

To look so poorly and to speak so fair?

Shall we call back Northumberland, and send

Defiance to the traitor, and so die?

 

Northumberland, tell him this is the King's reply:

his noble cousin is very welcome here;

and every one of his reasonable demands

shall be fulfilled without argument.

[To Aumerle] We are lowering ourselves, cousin, aren't we,

to make such a poor show and to speak so fairly?

Shall we call Northumberland back, and send

defiant messages to the traitor, and so die?

 

AUMERLE.

No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words

Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.

 

No, my good lord; let's fight with gentle words

until time gives us friends, and friends lend us the help of their swords.

 

KING RICHARD.

O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine

That laid the sentence of dread banishment

On yon proud man should take it off again

With words of sooth! O that I were as great

As is my grief, or lesser than my name!

Or that I could forget what I have been!

Or not remember what I must be now!

Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,

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