Original
Modern English
Under this thick-grown brake we’ll shroud ourselves; For through this laund anon the deer will come; And in this covert will we make our stand, Culling the principal of all the deer.
We’ll hide ourselves under this thick brush; Because the deer will soon come through here; And we’ll wait here, and shoot at the best deer. We’ll pick out the finest of them all.
I’ll stay above the hill, so both may shoot.
I’ll stay up on the hill, so both of us can shoot.
That cannot be; the noise of thy cross-bow Will scare the herd, and so my shoot is lost. Here stand we both, and aim we at the best: And, for the time shall not seem tedious, I’ll tell thee what befell me on a day In this self-place where now we mean to stand.
That won’t work; the sound of your crossbow Will scare the deer, and then I’ll miss my shot. Let’s both stand here and aim at the best one. And to pass the time, I’ll tell you something that happened to me On a day like this, right here where we stand now.
Here comes a man; let’s stay till he be past.
Here comes someone; let’s wait until he passes.
From Scotland am I stol’n, even of pure love, To greet mine own land with my wishful sight. No, Harry, Harry, ’tis no land of thine; Thy place is fill’d, thy sceptre wrung from thee, Thy balm wash’d off wherewith thou wast anointed: No bending knee will call thee Caesar now, No humble suitors press to speak for right, No, not a man comes for redress of thee; For how can I help them, and not myself?
I was stolen from Scotland, out of pure love, To see my homeland once again, to look on it with longing eyes. No, Harry, Harry, this is not your land; Your place is taken, your scepter stolen from you, The holy oil that anointed you is washed off. No one will kneel and call you Caesar now, No humble people come to ask for justice, No one comes to ask for your help, For how can I help them, when I can’t even help myself?
Ay, here’s a deer whose skin’s a keeper’s fee: This is the quondam king; let’s seize upon him.
Ah, here’s a deer whose pelt is worth something to a keeper: This is the former king; let’s grab him.
Let me embrace thee, sour adversity, For wise men say it is the wisest course.
Let me welcome you, bitter hardship, For wise men say it’s the wisest thing to do.
Why linger we? let us lay hands upon him.
Why wait? Let’s grab him now.
Forbear awhile; we’ll hear a little more.
Hold on a bit; let’s listen to him a little longer.
My queen and son are gone to France for aid; And, as I hear, the great commanding Warwick Is thither gone, to crave the French king’s sister To wife for Edward: if this news be true, Poor queen and son, your labour is but lost; For Warwick is a subtle orator, And Lewis a prince soon won with moving words. By this account then Margaret may win him; For she’s a woman to be pitied much: Her sighs will make a battery in his breast; Her tears will pierce into a marble heart; The tiger will be mild whiles she doth mourn; And Nero will be tainted with remorse, To hear and see her plaints, her brinish tears. Ay, but she’s come to beg, Warwick to give; She, on his left side, craving aid for Henry, He, on his right, asking a wife for Edward. She weeps, and says her Henry is deposed; He smiles, and says his Edward is install’d; That she, poor wretch, for grief can speak no more; Whiles Warwick tells his title, smooths the wrong, Inferreth arguments of mighty strength, And in conclusion wins the king from her, With promise of his sister, and what else, To strengthen and support King Edward’s place. O Margaret, thus ’twill be; and thou, poor soul, Art then forsaken, as thou went’st forlorn!
My queen and son are gone to France to ask for help; And from what I hear, the powerful Warwick Has gone there too, to ask the French king’s sister For Edward’s wife. If this is true, Poor queen and son, your efforts are in vain; Because Warwick is a clever speaker, And Lewis is a prince easily swayed by words. If that’s the case, Margaret may win him over; She’s a woman to be greatly pitied: Her sighs will strike at his heart; Her tears will pierce even the hardest heart; The tiger will become gentle while she mourns; Even Nero will feel guilt Hearing her laments, her bitter tears. Yes, but she’s come to beg, and Warwick to give; She, on his left side, asking for help for Henry, He, on his right, asking for a wife for Edward. She weeps, saying her Henry is deposed; He smiles, saying his Edward is crowned; She, poor woman, can’t speak because of her grief; While Warwick talks about his title, smooths over the injustice, Makes powerful arguments, And in the end, wins the king over to her side, Promising his sister, and who knows what else, To support and strengthen King Edward’s rule. Oh Margaret, this is how it will be; and you, poor soul, Will be left behind, just as you were abandoned before!
Say, what art thou that talk’st of kings and queens?
Tell me, who are you, talking about kings and queens?
More than I seem, and less than I was born to: A man at least, for less I should not be; And men may talk of kings, and why not I?
More than I seem, and less than I was born to be: At least I am a man, for I should be nothing less; And men can talk about kings, so why shouldn’t I?
Ay, but thou talk’st as if thou wert a king.
Yes, but you speak as if you were a king.
Why, so I am, in mind; and that’s enough.
Well, I am, in my heart; and that’s enough.
But, if thou be a king, where is thy crown?
But if you’re a king, where’s your crown?
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not decked with diamonds and Indian stones, Nor to be seen: my crown is called content: A crown it is that seldom kings enjoy.
My crown is in my heart, not on my head; Not decorated with diamonds and exotic jewels, Nor visible: my crown is called contentment: It’s a crown that most kings rarely get to wear.
Well, if you be a king crown’d with content, Your crown content and you must be contented To go along with us; for as we think, You are the king King Edward hath deposed; And we his subjects sworn in all allegiance Will apprehend you as his enemy.
Well, if you’re a king crowned with contentment, Then both your crown and you should be content To come with us; for as we see it, You are the king that King Edward has dethroned; And we, his loyal subjects, will take you as his enemy.
But did you never swear, and break an oath?
But didn’t you ever swear an oath and break it?
No, never such an oath; nor will not now.
No, I’ve never broken such an oath; and I won’t now.
Where did you dwell when I was King of England?
Where were you living when I was King of England?
Here in this country, where we now remain.
Here, in this country, where we still live.
I was anointed king at nine months old; My father and my grandfather were kings, And you were sworn true subjects unto me: And tell me, then, have you not broke your oaths?
I was crowned king at nine months old; My father and my grandfather were kings, And you swore loyalty to me: So tell me, haven’t you broken your oaths?
No; For we were subjects but while you were king.
No; Because we were subjects only while you were king.
Why, am I dead? do I not breathe a man? Ah, simple men, you know not what you swear! Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And as the air blows it to me again, Obeying with my wind when I do blow, And yielding to another when it blows, Commanded always by the greater gust; Such is the lightness of you common men. But do not break your oaths; for of that sin My mild entreaty shall not make you guilty. Go where you will, the king shall be commanded; And be you kings, command, and I’ll obey.
Am I dead? Do I not still breathe? Ah, foolish men, you don’t even understand what you swear! Look, as I blow this feather from my face, And the wind blows it back to me, Following my breath when I blow, And moving when it blows another way, Always obeying the stronger gust; That’s how you common people are. But don’t break your oaths; because for that sin My gentle plea won’t make you guilty. Go where you must, the king will still give orders; And if you are kings, command, and I’ll obey.
We are true subjects to the king, King Edward.
We are loyal subjects to King Edward.
So would you be again to Henry, If he were seated as King Edward is.
So you would be to Henry again, If he were seated as King Edward is.
We charge you, in God’s name, and the king’s, To go with us unto the officers.
We charge you, in God’s name, and the king’s, To come with us to the officers.
In God’s name, lead; your king’s name be obey’d: And what God will, that let your king perform; And what he will, I humbly yield unto.
In God’s name, lead; let your king’s command be obeyed: And whatever God wills, let your king carry out; And whatever he decides, I humbly accept.