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I wonder how the king escaped our hands.
I wonder how the king got away from us.
While we pursued the horsemen of the north, He slily stole away and left his men: Whereat the great Lord of Northumberland, Whose warlike ears could never brook retreat, Cheer’d up the drooping army; and himself, Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, all abreast, Charged our main battle’s front, and breaking in Were by the swords of common soldiers slain.
While we were chasing the northern horsemen, He secretly escaped and left his men: This made the great Lord of Northumberland, Who couldn’t stand retreat, encourage his army; And himself, along with Lord Clifford and Lord Stafford, Led the charge at our main front, breaking through, But they were all killed by common soldiers.
Lord Stafford’s father, Duke of Buckingham, Is either slain or wounded dangerously; I cleft his beaver with a downright blow: That this is true, father, behold his blood.
Lord Stafford’s father, Duke of Buckingham, Is either dead or badly wounded; I struck his helmet with a strong blow: If you don’t believe me, father, look at his blood.
And, brother, here’s the Earl of Wiltshire’s blood, Whom I encounter’d as the battles join’d.
And, brother, here’s the blood of the Earl of Wiltshire, Who I fought as the battle started.
Speak thou for me and tell them what I did.
Let me speak for myself and tell them what I did.
Richard hath best deserved of all my sons. But is your grace dead, my Lord of Somerset?
Richard has done the most for me of all my sons. But is your grace really dead, Lord Somerset?
Such hope have all the line of John of Gaunt!
This is the fate of all of John of Gaunt’s line!
Thus do I hope to shake King Henry’s head.
I hope to do the same to King Henry.
And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, Before I see thee seated in that throne Which now the house of Lancaster usurps, I vow by heaven these eyes shall never close. This is the palace of the fearful king, And this the regal seat: possess it, York; For this is thine and not King Henry’s heirs’
And so do I. Victorious Prince of York, Before I see you sitting on that throne Which now the house of Lancaster holds, I swear to God these eyes will never close. This is the palace of the fearful king, And this the royal seat: take it, York; For this is yours, not King Henry’s heirs’.
Assist me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; For hither we have broken in by force.
Help me, then, sweet Warwick, and I will; Because we have broken in here by force.
We’ll all assist you; he that flies shall die.
We’ll all help you; anyone who runs away will die.
Thanks, gentle Norfolk: stay by me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay and lodge by me this night.
Thanks, kind Norfolk: stay with me, my lords; And, soldiers, stay here and stay with me tonight.
And when the king comes, offer no violence, Unless he seek to thrust you out perforce.
And when the king comes, don’t use violence, Unless he tries to force you out.
The queen this day here holds her parliament, But little thinks we shall be of her council: By words or blows here let us win our right.
The queen is holding her parliament here today, But she doesn’t think we’ll be part of her council: Let’s win our right by words or violence here.
Arm’d as we are, let’s stay within this house.
Armed as we are, let’s stay inside this house.
The bloody parliament shall this be call’d, Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, be king, And bashful Henry deposed, whose cowardice Hath made us by-words to our enemies.
This shall be called the bloody parliament, Unless Plantagenet, Duke of York, becomes king, And shy Henry is deposed, whose cowardice Has made us the laughingstock of our enemies.
Then leave me not, my lords; be resolute; I mean to take possession of my right.
Then don’t leave me, my lords; be determined; I plan to take what’s rightfully mine.
Neither the king, nor he that loves him best, The proudest he that holds up Lancaster, Dares stir a wing, if Warwick shake his bells. I’ll plant Plantagenet, root him up who dares: Resolve thee, Richard; claim the English crown.
Neither the king, nor the one who loves him most, Nor the proudest supporter of Lancaster, Will dare to move a finger if Warwick shakes his bells. I’ll make Plantagenet king, and anyone who dares, I’ll root them out: Resolve yourself, Richard; claim the English crown.
My lords, look where the sturdy rebel sits, Even in the chair of state: belike he means, Back’d by the power of Warwick, that false peer, To aspire unto the crown and reign as king. Earl of Northumberland, he slew thy father. And thine, Lord Clifford; and you both have vow’d revenge On him, his sons, his favourites and his friends.
My lords, look where the stubborn rebel sits, Even in the seat of power: he probably plans, With Warwick’s support, that dishonest peer, To rise up and claim the crown and rule as king. Earl of Northumberland, he killed your father. And yours, Lord Clifford; and both of you have sworn revenge On him, his sons, his favorites, and his friends.
If I be not, heavens be revenged on me!
If I don’t, may heaven punish me!
The hope thereof makes Clifford mourn in steel.
The thought of that revenge makes Clifford fight with steel.
What, shall we suffer this? let’s pluck him down: My heart for anger burns; I cannot brook it.
What, should we let this happen? Let’s pull him down: My heart burns with anger; I can’t stand it.
Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
Be patient, gentle Earl of Westmoreland.
Patience is for poltroons, such as he: He durst not sit there, had your father lived. My gracious lord, here in the parliament Let us assail the family of York.
Patience is for cowards, like him: He wouldn’t dare sit there if your father were still alive. My lord, let’s attack the York family here in parliament.
Well hast thou spoken, cousin: be it so.
Well said, cousin: let it be as you say.
Ah, know you not the city favours them, And they have troops of soldiers at their beck?
Don’t you know that the city supports them, And they have armies of soldiers ready to help them?
But when the duke is slain, they’ll quickly fly.
But once the duke is dead, they’ll quickly run away.
Far be the thought of this from Henry’s heart, To make a shambles of the parliament-house! Cousin of Exeter, frowns, words and threats Shall be the war that Henry means to use. Thou factious Duke of York, descend my throne, and kneel for grace and mercy at my feet; I am thy sovereign.
May the thought of that never cross Henry’s mind, To turn the parliament into a bloodbath! Cousin Exeter, frowns, words, and threats Will be the kind of war that Henry will fight. You rebellious Duke of York, get down from my throne, And kneel for mercy at my feet; I am your king.
I am thine.
I am yours.
For shame, come down: he made thee Duke of York.
Shame on you, come down: he made you Duke of York.
’Twas my inheritance, as the earldom was.
It was my birthright, just like the earldom was.
Thy father was a traitor to the crown.
Your father was a traitor to the crown.
Exeter, thou art a traitor to the crown In following this usurping Henry.
Exeter, you are a traitor to the crown For following this usurping Henry.
Whom should he follow but his natural king?
Who else should he follow but his rightful king?
True, Clifford; and that’s Richard Duke of York.
True, Clifford; and that rightful king is Richard Duke of York.
And shall I stand, and thou sit in my throne?
And am I supposed to stand here, while you sit on my throne?
It must and shall be so: content thyself.
It must happen, and it will: accept it.
Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king.
Be Duke of Lancaster; let him be king.
He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; And that the Lord of Westmoreland shall maintain.
He is both king and Duke of Lancaster; And I, the Lord of Westmoreland, will support that.
And Warwick shall disprove it. You forget That we are those which chased you from the field And slew your fathers, and with colours spread March’d through the city to the palace gates.
And Warwick will prove that wrong. You forget That we are the ones who drove you from the battlefield And killed your fathers, and with banners flying March’d through the city to the palace gates.
Yes, Warwick, I remember it to my grief; And, by his soul, thou and thy house shall rue it.
Yes, Warwick, I remember it with sorrow; And, by his soul, you and your house will regret it.
Plantagenet, of thee and these thy sons, Thy kinsman and thy friends, I’ll have more lives Than drops of blood were in my father’s veins.
Plantagenet, I’ll take more lives from you and your sons, And from your kinsmen and friends, than there were drops of blood In my father’s veins.
Urge it no more; lest that, instead of words, I send thee, Warwick, such a messenger As shall revenge his death before I stir.
Don’t push it any further; or instead of words, I’ll send you, Warwick, a messenger Who will avenge his death before I even move.
Poor Clifford! how I scorn his worthless threats!
Poor Clifford! how I laugh at his worthless threats!
Will you we show our title to the crown? If not, our swords shall plead it in the field.
Shall we show our claim to the crown? If not, our swords will argue it on the battlefield.
What title hast thou, traitor, to the crown? Thy father was, as thou art, Duke of York; Thy grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: I am the son of Henry the Fifth, Who made the Dauphin and the French to stoop And seized upon their towns and provinces.
What right do you have, traitor, to the crown? Your father was, like you, Duke of York; Your grandfather, Roger Mortimer, Earl of March: I am the son of Henry the Fifth, Who forced the Dauphin and the French to bow And took their towns and lands.
Talk not of France, sith thou hast lost it all.
Don’t talk about France, since you’ve lost it all.
The lord protector lost it, and not I: When I was crown’d I was but nine months old.
The lord protector lost it, not me: When I was crowned, I was only nine months old.
You are old enough now, and yet, methinks, you lose. Father, tear the crown from the usurper’s head.
You’re old enough now, and still, I think, you’re losing. Father, take the crown from the usurper’s head.
Sweet father, do so; set it on your head.
Sweet father, do it; put it on your head.
Good brother, as thou lovest and honourest arms, Let’s fight it out and not stand cavilling thus.
Good brother, as you love and honor battle, Let’s settle this with a fight, don’t stand here arguing.
Sound drums and trumpets, and the king will fly.
Sound the drums and trumpets, and the king will run.
Sons, peace!
Sons, enough!
Peace, thou! and give King Henry leave to speak.
Enough, you! And let King Henry speak.
Plantagenet shall speak first: hear him, lords; And be you silent and attentive too, For he that interrupts him shall not live.
Plantagenet will speak first: listen to him, lords; And be silent and attentive too, For anyone who interrupts him will not live.
Think’st thou that I will leave my kingly throne, Wherein my grandsire and my father sat? No: first shall war unpeople this my realm; Ay, and their colours, often borne in France, And now in England to our heart’s great sorrow, Shall be my winding-sheet. Why faint you, lords? My title’s good, and better far than his.
Do you think I will give up my royal throne, The same one where my grandfather and father ruled? No: first, war will depopulate this land of mine; Yes, and their flags, once carried in France, And now in England to our great sorrow, Will be my burial cloth. Why do you hesitate, lords? My claim is strong, and much better than his.
Prove it, Henry, and thou shalt be king.
Prove it, Henry, and you will be king.
Henry the Fourth by conquest got the crown.
Henry the Fourth won the crown by force.
’Twas by rebellion against his king.
He did it by rebelling against his king.
[Aside] I know not what to say; my title’s weak.-- Tell me, may not a king adopt an heir?
[Aside] I don’t know what to say; my claim is weak.-- Tell me, can’t a king adopt an heir?
What then?
What’s your point?
An if he may, then am I lawful king; For Richard, in the view of many lords, Resign’d the crown to Henry the Fourth, Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
If he can, then I am the rightful king; For Richard, in front of many lords, Gave up the crown to Henry the Fourth, Whose heir my father was, and I am his.
He rose against him, being his sovereign, And made him to resign his crown perforce.
He rebelled against him, his rightful ruler, And forced him to give up his crown.
Suppose, my lords, he did it unconstrain’d, Think you ’twere prejudicial to his crown?
Suppose, my lords, he did it voluntarily, Do you think it would harm his claim to the crown?
No; for he could not so resign his crown But that the next heir should succeed and reign.
No; because he couldn’t have given up his crown Without the next heir stepping in and ruling.
Art thou against us, Duke of Exeter?
Are you against us, Duke of Exeter?
His is the right, and therefore pardon me.
He has the right, so please forgive me.
Why whisper you, my lords, and answer not?
Why are you whispering, my lords, and not answering?
My conscience tells me he is lawful king.
My conscience tells me he is the rightful king.
[Aside] All will revolt from me, and turn to him.
[Aside] Everyone will turn against me and support him.
Plantagenet, for all the claim thou lay’st, Think not that Henry shall be so deposed.
Plantagenet, no matter what claim you make, Don’t think Henry will be deposed so easily.
Deposed he shall be, in despite of all.
He will be removed, no matter what anyone does.
Thou art deceived: ’tis not thy southern power, Of Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, nor of Kent, Which makes thee thus presumptuous and proud, Can set the duke up in despite of me.
You’re wrong: it’s not your southern power, Not Essex, Norfolk, Suffolk, or Kent, That makes you so bold and arrogant, That can put the duke in power against me.
King Henry, be thy title right or wrong, Lord Clifford vows to fight in thy defence: May that ground gape and swallow me alive, Where I shall kneel to him that slew my father!
Whether King Henry’s claim is right or wrong, Lord Clifford swears to fight for him: May the earth open up and swallow me whole, If I kneel to the man who killed my father!
O Clifford, how thy words revive my heart!
Oh Clifford, how your words lift my spirit!
Henry of Lancaster, resign thy crown. What mutter you, or what conspire you, lords?
Henry of Lancaster, give up your crown. What are you whispering about, or what are you plotting, lords?
Do right unto this princely Duke of York, Or I will fill the house with armed men, And over the chair of state, where now he sits, Write up his title with usurping blood.
Do what’s right by this noble Duke of York, Or I’ll fill this place with soldiers, And on the throne where he now sits, I’ll write his claim in the blood of usurpers.
My Lord of Warwick, hear me but one word: Let me for this my life-time reign as king.
My Lord of Warwick, hear me for just one moment: Let me rule as king for the rest of my life.
Confirm the crown to me and to mine heirs, And thou shalt reign in quiet while thou livest.
Give me the crown and it will pass to my heirs, And you’ll have peace while you live.
I am content: Richard Plantagenet, Enjoy the kingdom after my decease.
I agree: Richard Plantagenet, You can have the kingdom when I die.
What wrong is this unto the prince your son!
What a betrayal this is to your son, the prince!
What good is this to England and himself!
What good is this to England and to him!
Base, fearful and despairing Henry!
Cowardly, fearful, and hopeless Henry!
How hast thou injured both thyself and us!
How have you betrayed both yourself and us!
I cannot stay to hear these articles.
I can’t listen to this any longer.
Nor I.
Neither can I.
Come, cousin, let us tell the queen these news.
Come, cousin, let’s tell the queen the news.
Farewell, faint-hearted and degenerate king, In whose cold blood no spark of honour bides.
Goodbye, cowardly and weak king, In whose cold blood there’s not a trace of honour.
Be thou a prey unto the house of York, And die in bands for this unmanly deed!
May you fall victim to the house of York, And die in chains for this dishonorable act!
In dreadful war mayst thou be overcome, Or live in peace abandon’d and despised!
In terrible battle may you be defeated, Or live in peace, abandoned and hated!
Turn this way, Henry, and regard them not.
Turn this way, Henry, and don’t pay attention to them.
They seek revenge and therefore will not yield.
They’re after revenge and won’t give up.
Ah, Exeter!
Oh, Exeter!
Why should you sigh, my lord?
Why do you sigh, my lord?
Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but my son, Whom I unnaturally shall disinherit. But be it as it may: I here entail The crown to thee and to thine heirs for ever; Conditionally, that here thou take an oath To cease this civil war, and, whilst I live, To honour me as thy king and sovereign, And neither by treason nor hostility To seek to put me down and reign thyself.
Not for myself, Lord Warwick, but for my son, Whom I’ll unnaturally have to disinherit. But it must be done: I hereby pass The crown to you and your heirs forever; On the condition that you swear an oath To end this civil war, and, while I live, To honor me as your king and ruler, And never by treason or force Try to overthrow me and take the throne for yourself.
This oath I willingly take and will perform.
I gladly take this oath and will keep it.
Long live King Henry! Plantagenet embrace him.
Long live King Henry! Plantagenet, embrace him.
And long live thou and these thy forward sons!
And may you live long too, along with your ambitious sons!
Now York and Lancaster are reconciled.
Now York and Lancaster are at peace.
Accursed be he that seeks to make them foes!
Cursed be anyone who tries to make them enemies!
Farewell, my gracious lord; I’ll to my castle.
Goodbye, my lord; I’ll go to my castle.
And I’ll keep London with my soldiers.
And I’ll stay in London with my soldiers.
And I to Norfolk with my followers.
And I’ll go to Norfolk with my followers.
And I unto the sea from whence I came.
And I’ll return to the sea from where I came.
And I, with grief and sorrow, to the court.
And I, full of grief and sorrow, will go to the court.
Here comes the queen, whose looks bewray her anger: I’ll steal away.
Here comes the queen, and you can tell by her face that she’s angry: I’ll slip away.
Exeter, so will I.
Exeter, so will I.
Nay, go not from me; I will follow thee.
No, don’t leave me; I’ll follow you.
Be patient, gentle queen, and I will stay.
Be patient, gentle queen, and I’ll stay.
Who can be patient in such extremes? Ah, wretched man! would I had died a maid And never seen thee, never borne thee son, Seeing thou hast proved so unnatural a father Hath he deserved to lose his birthright thus? Hadst thou but loved him half so well as I, Or felt that pain which I did for him once, Or nourish’d him as I did with my blood, Thou wouldst have left thy dearest heart-blood there, Rather than have that savage duke thine heir And disinherited thine only son.
Who can be patient in such extreme circumstances? Ah, miserable man! I wish I had died a virgin And never seen you, never borne you a son, Since you have been such an unnatural father. Does he deserve to lose his birthright like this? If you had loved him even half as much as I did, Or felt the pain I did for him once, Or cared for him as I did with my own blood, You would have rather died than let that savage duke be his heir And disinherit your only son.
Father, you cannot disinherit me: If you be king, why should not I succeed?
Father, you can’t disinherit me: If you’re king, why shouldn’t I succeed?
Pardon me, Margaret; pardon me, sweet son: The Earl of Warwick and the duke enforced me.
Forgive me, Margaret; forgive me, dear son: The Earl of Warwick and the duke forced me.
Enforced thee! art thou king, and wilt be forced? I shame to hear thee speak. Ah, timorous wretch! Thou hast undone thyself, thy son and me; And given unto the house of York such head As thou shalt reign but by their sufferance. To entail him and his heirs unto the crown, What is it, but to make thy sepulchre And creep into it far before thy time? Warwick is chancellor and the lord of Calais; Stern Falconbridge commands the narrow seas; The duke is made protector of the realm; And yet shalt thou be safe? such safety finds The trembling lamb environed with wolves. Had I been there, which am a silly woman, The soldiers should have toss’d me on their pikes Before I would have granted to that act. But thou preferr’st thy life before thine honour: And seeing thou dost, I here divorce myself Both from thy table, Henry, and thy bed, Until that act of parliament be repeal’d Whereby my son is disinherited. The northern lords that have forsworn thy colours Will follow mine, if once they see them spread; And spread they shall be, to thy foul disgrace And utter ruin of the house of York. Thus do I leave thee. Come, son, let’s away; Our army is ready; come, we’ll after them.
Forced you! Are you king, and you let them force you? I’m ashamed to hear you say it. Ah, cowardly fool! You’ve ruined yourself, your son, and me; And given the house of York such power That you’ll only rule with their permission. To pass the crown on to him and his heirs, What is that, but to dig your own grave And crawl into it before your time? Warwick is chancellor and lord of Calais; Stern Falconbridge controls the seas; The duke is protector of the realm; And you think you’ll be safe? That’s the kind of safety A trembling lamb finds surrounded by wolves. If I had been there, just a simple woman, The soldiers would have thrown me on their pikes Before I would have agreed to such a thing. But you chose your life over your honor: And since you did, I’m leaving you, Both from your table, Henry, and your bed, Until that act of parliament is repealed That disinherits my son. The northern lords who’ve turned against you Will follow me, once they see my banner raised; And raised it will be, for your disgrace And the complete ruin of the house of York. So, I leave you now. Come, son, let’s go; Our army is ready; come, we’ll follow them.
Stay, gentle Margaret, and hear me speak.
Wait, gentle Margaret, and listen to me.
Thou hast spoke too much already: get thee gone.
You’ve already said enough: go away.
Gentle son Edward, thou wilt stay with me?
Gentle son Edward, will you stay with me?
Ay, to be murder’d by his enemies.
Yes, to be killed by his enemies.
When I return with victory from the field I’ll see your grace: till then I’ll follow her.
When I come back victorious from the battlefield I’ll see you then: until then, I’ll follow her.
Come, son, away; we may not linger thus.
Come, son, let’s go; we can’t stay here like this.
Poor queen! how love to me and to her son Hath made her break out into terms of rage! Revenged may she be on that hateful duke, Whose haughty spirit, winged with desire, Will cost my crown, and like an empty eagle Tire on the flesh of me and of my son! The loss of those three lords torments my heart: I’ll write unto them and entreat them fair. Come, cousin you shall be the messenger.
Poor queen! How love for me and her son Has made her break out in such rage! May she get revenge on that hateful duke, Whose proud spirit, driven by desire, Will cost me my crown, and like a hungry eagle Tear at the flesh of me and my son! The loss of those three lords pains my heart: I’ll write to them and beg them kindly. Come, cousin, you shall be the messenger.
And I, I hope, shall reconcile them all.
And I, I hope, will make peace between them all.