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Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester’s wife: In sight of God and us, your guilt is great: Receive the sentence of the law for sins Such as by God’s book are adjudged to death. You four, from hence to prison back again; From thence unto the place of execution: The witch in Smithfield shall be burn’d to ashes, And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. You, madam, for you are more nobly born, Despoiled of your honour in your life, Shall, after three days’ open penance done, Live in your country here in banishment, With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man.
Step forward, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester’s wife: In front of God and us, your guilt is clear: Receive the punishment of the law for crimes That, according to God’s word, deserve death. You four, go back to prison now; From there to the execution place: The witch in Smithfield will be burned to ashes, And you three will be hanged. You, madam, because you are more nobly born, Will lose your honor in life, But after three days of public penance, You will live in exile in your country, With Sir John Stanley, on the Isle of Man.
Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death.
Banishment is welcome; death would be even better.
Eleanor, the law, thou see’st, hath judged thee: I cannot justify whom the law condemns.
Eleanor, the law, you see, has judged you: I can’t defend someone the law has condemned.
Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground! I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease.
My eyes are full of tears, my heart full of grief. Ah, Humphrey, this dishonor in your old age Will bring you down with sorrow! I beg you, your majesty, let me go; Grief would comfort me, and my old age would find some relief.
Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go, Give up thy staff: Henry will to himself Protector be; and God shall be my hope, My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet: And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved Than when thou wert protector to thy King.
Wait, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: before you go, Give up your staff: Henry will be the protector now; And God will be my hope, My support, my guide, and light to my path: And go in peace, Humphrey, no less loved Than when you were protector to your King.
I see no reason why a king of years Should be to be protected like a child. God and King Henry govern England’s realm. Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm.
I don’t see why an older king Should need to be protected like a child. God and King Henry rule England’s land. Give up your staff, sir, and the king his land.
My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: As willingly do I the same resign As e’er thy father Henry made it mine; And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it As others would ambitiously receive it. Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, May honourable peace attend thy throne!
My staff? Here, noble Henry, is my staff: I give it up as willingly as your father Henry gave it to me; And just as willingly I leave it at your feet As others would greedily take it. Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone, May honorable peace be with your reign!
Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen; And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once; His lady banish’d, and a limb lopp’d off. This staff of honour raught, there let it stand Where it best fits to be, in Henry’s hand.
Now Henry is king, and Margaret is queen; And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester is barely himself, With such a terrible injury; two blows at once; His wife banished, and a limb cut off. This staff of honor reached for, let it stay Where it belongs, in Henry’s hand.
Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; Thus Eleanor’s pride dies in her youngest days.
Thus this proud tree droops and lets its branches fall; Thus Eleanor’s pride dies in her youth.
Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, This is the day appointed for the combat; And ready are the appellant and defendant, The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, So please your highness to behold the fight.
Lords, let him go. If it pleases your majesty, This is the day set for the fight; And both the accuser and the accused, The armorer and his man, are ready to fight, If it pleases your highness to watch the match.
Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.
Yes, my lord; that’s exactly why I left the court, to see this quarrel settled.
O God’s name, see the lists and all things fit: Here let them end it; and God defend the right!
In God’s name, let’s see the lists and everything set: Let them settle it here; and may God defend the right!
I never saw a fellow worse bested, Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, The servant of this armourer, my lords.
I’ve never seen anyone so badly off, Or more afraid to fight, than the accuser, The servant of this armorer, my lords.
Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of sack: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough.
Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of wine: and don’t worry, neighbour, you’ll do just fine.
And here, neighbour, here’s a cup of charneco.
And here, neighbour, here’s a cup of sherry.
And here’s a pot of good double beer, neighbour: drink, and fear not your man.
Here’s a jug of good strong beer, neighbour: drink, and don’t worry about your man.
Let it come, i’ faith, and I’ll pledge you all; and a fig for Peter! First ’Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be not afraid. Second ’Prentice Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight for credit of the ’prentices.
Let it come, honestly, and I’ll drink with you all; and a curse on Peter! First ’Prentice Here, Peter, I drink to you: and don’t be afraid. Second ’Prentice Be happy, Peter, and don’t fear your master: fight for the reputation of the apprentices.
I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for I think I have taken my last draught in this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee my apron: and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer: and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O Lord bless me! I pray God! for I am never able to deal with my master, he hath learnt me so much fence already.
I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I beg you; because I think I’ve taken my last drink in this world. Here, Robin, if I die, I give you my apron: and, Will, you’ll get my hammer: and here, Tom, take all the money I have. Oh Lord, help me! I pray to God! because I’m never able to handle my master, he’s already taught me so much swordplay.
Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. Sirrah, what’s thy name?
Come on, stop drinking, and start fighting. Hey, what’s your name?
Peter, forsooth.
Peter, indeed.
Peter! what more?
Peter! What else?
Thump.
Thump.
Thump! then see thou thump thy master well.
Thump! Then make sure you thump your master good.
Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man’s instigation, to prove him a knave and myself an honest man: and touching the Duke of York, I will take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the king, nor the queen: and therefore, Peter, have at thee with a downright blow!
Masters, I’ve come here, basically, because my man asked me to, to prove him a fool and myself an honest man: and about the Duke of York, I swear on my life, I never meant him any harm, nor the king, nor the queen: and so, Peter, here I come for you with a solid blow!
Dispatch: this knave’s tongue begins to double. Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants!
Hurry up: this fool’s tongue is starting to waver. Sound the trumpets, alarm for the fighters!
Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.
Stop, Peter, stop! I admit it, I admit treason.
Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, and the good wine in thy master’s way.
Take away his weapon. Man, thank God, and the good wine in your master’s way.
O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right!
Oh God, have I defeated my enemy here? Oh Peter, you’ve won this battle fairly!
Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; For his death we do perceive his guilt: And God in justice hath revealed to us The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, Which he had thought to have murder’d wrongfully. Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.
Take that traitor away from our sight; We can see his guilt in his death: And God in justice has shown us The truth and innocence of this poor man, Whom he had tried to murder unfairly. Come, man, follow us for your reward.