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Fair Queen of England, worthy Margaret, Sit down with us: it ill befits thy state And birth, that thou shouldst stand while Lewis doth sit.
Lovely Queen of England, worthy Margaret, Sit down with us: it doesn’t suit your rank And birth, that you should stand while Lewis sits.
No, mighty King of France: now Margaret Must strike her sail and learn awhile to serve Where kings command. I was, I must confess, Great Albion’s queen in former golden days: But now mischance hath trod my title down, And with dishonour laid me on the ground; Where I must take like seat unto my fortune, And to my humble seat conform myself.
No, great King of France: now Margaret Must lower her flag and learn for a while to serve Where kings give orders. I was, I must admit, Once the queen of Albion in happier days: But now misfortune has brought my title down, And with dishonor, thrown me to the ground; Now I must accept a position that suits my fate, And humble myself to my new place.
Why, say, fair queen, whence springs this deep despair?
Why, tell me, fair queen, what’s the reason for this despair?
From such a cause as fills mine eyes with tears And stops my tongue, while heart is drown’d in cares.
From something that fills my eyes with tears And makes me speechless, while my heart is full of sorrow.
Whate’er it be, be thou still like thyself, And sit thee by our side:
Whatever it is, be yourself, And sit beside us:
Yield not thy neck To fortune’s yoke, but let thy dauntless mind Still ride in triumph over all mischance. Be plain, Queen Margaret, and tell thy grief; It shall be eased, if France can yield relief.
Don’t bow your neck To the yoke of fortune, but let your fearless mind Always ride in victory over any misfortune. Be straightforward, Queen Margaret, and share your sorrow; It will be eased, if France can offer relief.
Those gracious words revive my drooping thoughts And give my tongue-tied sorrows leave to speak. Now, therefore, be it known to noble Lewis, That Henry, sole possessor of my love, Is of a king become a banish’d man, And forced to live in Scotland a forlorn; While proud ambitious Edward Duke of York Usurps the regal title and the seat Of England’s true-anointed lawful king. This is the cause that I, poor Margaret, With this my son, Prince Edward, Henry’s heir, Am come to crave thy just and lawful aid; And if thou fail us, all our hope is done: Scotland hath will to help, but cannot help; Our people and our peers are both misled, Our treasures seized, our soldiers put to flight, And, as thou seest, ourselves in heavy plight.
Those kind words lift my sinking spirits And give my tongue-tied grief the chance to speak. Now, let it be known to noble Lewis, That Henry, the only one I truly love, Has gone from being a king to a banished man, And is forced to live in Scotland, lonely and abandoned; While the proud, ambitious Edward, Duke of York, Steals the royal title and the throne Of England’s true and rightful king. This is why I, poor Margaret, With my son, Prince Edward, Henry’s heir, Have come to ask for your rightful and just help; And if you fail us, all our hope is lost: Scotland is willing to help, but cannot; Our people and our peers have been misled, Our treasures seized, our soldiers driven away, And, as you can see, we are in great distress.
Renowned queen, with patience calm the storm, While we bethink a means to break it off.
Renowned queen, calm the storm with patience, While we think of a way to end it.
The more we stay, the stronger grows our foe.
The longer we wait, the stronger our enemy becomes.
The more I stay, the more I’ll succor thee.
The longer I stay, the more I’ll help you.
O, but impatience waiteth on true sorrow. And see where comes the breeder of my sorrow!
Oh, but true sorrow is always impatient. And look, here comes the cause of my sorrow!
What’s he approacheth boldly to our presence?
Who is this, coming boldly to our presence?
Our Earl of Warwick, Edward’s greatest friend.
Our Earl of Warwick, Edward’s greatest ally.
Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings thee to France?
Welcome, brave Warwick! What brings you to France?
Ay, now begins a second storm to rise; For this is he that moves both wind and tide.
Ah, now a second storm begins to rise; For this is the one who stirs both wind and tide.
From worthy Edward, King of Albion, My lord and sovereign, and thy vowed friend, I come, in kindness and unfeigned love, First, to do greetings to thy royal person; And then to crave a league of amity; And lastly, to confirm that amity With a nuptial knot, if thou vouchsafe to grant That virtuous Lady Bona, thy fair sister, To England’s king in lawful marriage.
From the worthy Edward, King of Albion, My lord and sovereign, and your sworn friend, I come, in kindness and genuine love, First, to greet your royal self; And then to ask for a treaty of friendship; And finally, to seal that friendship With marriage, if you will allow Your virtuous sister, Lady Bona, To marry England’s king in lawful wedlock.
[Aside] If that go forward, Henry’s hope is done.
[Aside] If that happens, Henry’s hope is finished.
[To BONA] And, gracious madam, in our king’s behalf, I am commanded, with your leave and favour, Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my tongue To tell the passion of my sovereign’s heart; Where fame, late entering at his heedful ears, Hath placed thy beauty’s image and thy virtue.
[To BONA] And, gracious lady, on our king’s behalf, I am commanded, with your permission, Humbly to kiss your hand, and with my words To speak of the passion in my sovereign’s heart; Where news, recently reaching his attentive ears, Has placed your beauty and your virtue in his thoughts.
King Lewis and Lady Bona, hear me speak, Before you answer Warwick. His demand Springs not from Edward’s well-meant honest love, But from deceit bred by necessity; For how can tyrants safely govern home, Unless abroad they purchase great alliance? To prove him tyrant this reason may suffice, That Henry liveth still: but were he dead, Yet here Prince Edward stands, King Henry’s son. Look, therefore, Lewis, that by this league and marriage Thou draw not on thy danger and dishonour; For though usurpers sway the rule awhile, Yet heavens are just, and time suppresseth wrongs.
King Lewis and Lady Bona, listen to me, Before you answer Warwick. His request Comes not from Edward’s honest love, But from deceit born out of necessity; For how can tyrants safely rule at home, Unless they form powerful alliances abroad? To prove he’s a tyrant, this reason is enough, That Henry still lives: but if he were dead, Still, here stands Prince Edward, King Henry’s son. So, Lewis, be careful, that by this alliance and marriage You don’t bring danger and dishonor upon yourself; For though usurpers may rule for a time, The heavens are just, and time will correct the wrongs.
Injurious Margaret!
You’re a harmful person, Margaret!
And why not queen?
And why not queen?
Because thy father Henry did usurp; And thou no more are prince than she is queen.
Because your father Henry took the throne wrongfully; And you’re no more a prince than she is a queen.
Then Warwick disannuls great John of Gaunt, Which did subdue the greatest part of Spain; And, after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth, Whose wisdom was a mirror to the wisest; And, after that wise prince, Henry the Fifth, Who by his prowess conquered all France: From these our Henry lineally descends.
So, by that logic, Warwick, you deny great John of Gaunt, Who conquered most of Spain; And after John of Gaunt, Henry the Fourth, Whose wisdom was a model for the wisest; And after that wise king, Henry the Fifth, Who conquered all of France by his strength: From them, our Henry comes down through the line.
Oxford, how haps it, in this smooth discourse, You told not how Henry the Sixth hath lost All that which Henry Fifth had gotten? Methinks these peers of France should smile at that. But for the rest, you tell a pedigree Of threescore and two years; a silly time To make prescription for a kingdom’s worth.
Oxford, how is it that in your smooth talk, You didn’t mention how Henry the Sixth lost Everything that Henry the Fifth won? I think the French nobles should laugh at that. But for the rest, you tell a family history That goes back sixty-two years; a silly time To claim a kingdom’s worth.
Why, Warwick, canst thou speak against thy liege, Whom thou obeyed’st thirty and six years, And not bewray thy treason with a blush?
Why, Warwick, how can you speak against your king, Whom you served faithfully for thirty-six years, And not feel guilty or ashamed?
Can Oxford, that did ever fence the right, Now buckler falsehood with a pedigree? For shame! leave Henry, and call Edward king.
Can Oxford, who always defended what’s right, Now support lies with a family tree? For shame! abandon Henry, and call Edward king.
Call him my king by whose injurious doom My elder brother, the Lord Aubrey Vere, Was done to death? and more than so, my father, Even in the downfall of his mellow’d years, When nature brought him to the door of death? No, Warwick, no; while life upholds this arm, This arm upholds the house of Lancaster.
Call him my king, the one whose unjust decision Led to the death of my older brother, Lord Aubrey Vere, And worse, my father, Even in his old age, When nature had already brought him close to death? No, Warwick, no; as long as life supports this arm, This arm will support the house of Lancaster.
And I the house of York.
And I will support the house of York.
Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford, Vouchsafe, at our request, to stand aside, While I use further conference with Warwick.
Queen Margaret, Prince Edward, and Oxford, Please, at my request, step aside, While I have further talks with Warwick.
Heavens grant that Warwick’s words bewitch him not!
Heaven help that Warwick’s words don’t deceive him!
Now Warwick, tell me, even upon thy conscience, Is Edward your true king? for I were loath To link with him that were not lawful chosen.
Now, Warwick, tell me, honestly, Is Edward your true king? Because I would hate To ally with someone who wasn’t lawfully chosen.
Thereon I pawn my credit and mine honour.
I swear on my reputation and my honor.
But is he gracious in the people’s eye?
But is he loved by the people?
The more that Henry was unfortunate.
More so than Henry, who was unlucky.
Then further, all dissembling set aside, Tell me for truth the measure of his love Unto our sister Bona.
Then, putting all deceit aside, Tell me the truth about how much he loves Our sister Bona.
Such it seems As may beseem a monarch like himself. Myself have often heard him say and swear That this his love was an eternal plant, Whereof the root was fix’d in virtue’s ground, The leaves and fruit maintain’d with beauty’s sun, Exempt from envy, but not from disdain, Unless the Lady Bona quit his pain.
It seems to be What you’d expect from a king like him. I’ve often heard him say and swear That his love is like an eternal plant, With its roots firmly planted in virtue’s soil, The leaves and fruit nourished by beauty’s sun, Free from envy, but not from disdain, Unless Lady Bona relieves his suffering.
Now, sister, let us hear your firm resolve.
Now, sister, tell us your final decision.
Your grant, or your denial, shall be mine:
Whether you approve or deny, the choice is yours:
Yet I confess that often ere this day, When I have heard your king’s desert recounted, Mine ear hath tempted judgment to desire.
But I admit that often before today, When I’ve heard your king’s merits praised, I’ve found myself wanting to believe it.
Then, Warwick, thus: our sister shall be Edward’s; And now forthwith shall articles be drawn Touching the jointure that your king must make, Which with her dowry shall be counterpoised. Draw near, Queen Margaret, and be a witness That Bona shall be wife to the English king.
Then, Warwick, this: our sister shall marry Edward; And immediately we’ll draw up agreements Regarding the settlement your king must provide, Which, along with her dowry, shall balance out. Come here, Queen Margaret, and be a witness That Bona will be the wife of the English king.
To Edward, but not to the English king.
To Edward, but not to the English king.
Deceitful Warwick! it was thy device By this alliance to make void my suit: Before thy coming Lewis was Henry’s friend.
Treacherous Warwick! It was your plan To ruin my claim with this alliance: Before you came, Lewis was Henry’s friend.
And still is friend to him and Margaret: But if your title to the crown be weak, As may appear by Edward’s good success, Then ’tis but reason that I be released From giving aid which late I promised. Yet shall you have all kindness at my hand That your estate requires and mine can yield.
And still is a friend to him and Margaret: But if your claim to the crown is weak, As Edward’s success might show, Then it’s only fair that I be released From the help I recently promised. Still, you’ll have all the kindness I can offer Based on your needs and what I can provide.
Henry now lives in Scotland at his ease, Where having nothing, nothing can he lose. And as for you yourself, our quondam queen, You have a father able to maintain you; And better ’twere you troubled him than France.
Henry now lives in Scotland, comfortably, Where, with nothing, he has nothing to lose. As for you, our former queen, You have a father who can support you; It would be better for you to trouble him than France.
Peace, impudent and shameless Warwick, peace, Proud setter up and puller down of kings! I will not hence, till, with my talk and tears, Both full of truth, I make King Lewis behold Thy sly conveyance and thy lord’s false love; For both of you are birds of selfsame feather.
Quiet, shameless and impudent Warwick, quiet, Proud raiser and destroyer of kings! I won’t leave until, with my words and tears, Full of truth, I make King Lewis see Your sly scheming and your lord’s false love; For both of you are cut from the same cloth.
Warwick, this is some post to us or thee.
Warwick, that’s some messenger for us or for you.
[To WARWICK] My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, Sent from your brother, Marquess Montague:
[To WARWICK] My lord ambassador, these letters are for you, From your brother, Marquess Montague:
These from our king unto your majesty:
These are from our king to your majesty:
And, madam, these for you; from whom I know not.
And, madam, these are for you; I don’t know from whom.
I like it well that our fair queen and mistress Smiles at her news, while Warwick frowns at his.
I like it that our beautiful queen smiles at her news, While Warwick frowns at his.
Nay, mark how Lewis stamps, as he were nettled: I hope all’s for the best.
Look how Lewis stamps his feet, as if he’s annoyed: I hope all this is for the best.
Warwick, what are thy news? and yours, fair queen?
Warwick, what’s the news with you? And you, fair queen?
Mine, such as fill my heart with unhoped joys.
Mine are the kind of news that fill my heart with unexpected joy.
Mine, full of sorrow and heart’s discontent.
Mine are full of sorrow and disappointment.
What! has your king married the Lady Grey! And now, to soothe your forgery and his, Sends me a paper to persuade me patience? Is this the alliance that he seeks with France? Dare he presume to scorn us in this manner?
What! Has your king married the Lady Grey? And now, to cover up his lies and yours, He sends me a letter to try to make me patient? Is this the kind of alliance he wants with France? Does he dare to treat us this way?
I told your majesty as much before: This proveth Edward’s love and Warwick’s honesty.
I told your majesty the same before: This proves Edward’s love and Warwick’s honesty.
King Lewis, I here protest, in sight of heaven, And by the hope I have of heavenly bliss, That I am clear from this misdeed of Edward’s, No more my king, for he dishonours me, But most himself, if he could see his shame. Did I forget that by the house of York My father came untimely to his death? Did I let pass the abuse done to my niece? Did I impale him with the regal crown? Did I put Henry from his native right? And am I guerdon’d at the last with shame? Shame on himself! for my desert is honour: And to repair my honour lost for him, I here renounce him and return to Henry. My noble queen, let former grudges pass, And henceforth I am thy true servitor: I will revenge his wrong to Lady Bona, And replant Henry in his former state.
King Lewis, I swear before heaven, And by the hope I have for eternal happiness, That I am innocent of this wrongdoing by Edward, He is no longer my king, for he dishonours me, But most of all, he dishonours himself, if he could see it. Did I forget that my father died too soon because of the York family? Did I forget the wrong done to my niece? Did I crown him king? Did I take Henry from his rightful place? And now I’m rewarded with shame? Shame on him! My actions deserve honour: And to restore my lost honour for him, I now renounce him and return to Henry. My noble queen, let old grudges go, And from now on, I’ll be your true servant: I’ll take revenge for Lady Bona’s wrong, And restore Henry to his rightful throne.
Warwick, these words have turn’d my hate to love; And I forgive and quite forget old faults, And joy that thou becomest King Henry’s friend.
Warwick, these words have turned my hatred into love; I forgive and forget all past wrongs, And I’m glad that you’ve become King Henry’s friend.
So much his friend, ay, his unfeigned friend, That, if King Lewis vouchsafe to furnish us With some few bands of chosen soldiers, I’ll undertake to land them on our coast And force the tyrant from his seat by war. ’Tis not his new-made bride shall succor him: And as for Clarence, as my letters tell me, He’s very likely now to fall from him, For matching more for wanton lust than honour, Or than for strength and safety of our country.
So much his friend, yes, his true friend, That, if King Lewis agrees to help us With a few bands of chosen soldiers, I’ll make sure they land on our coast And force the tyrant from his throne by war. It won’t be his new bride who’ll help him: And as for Clarence, my letters tell me, He’s very likely to fall out with him, For marrying for lust rather than honour, Or for the strength and safety of our country.
Dear brother, how shall Bona be revenged But by thy help to this distressed queen?
Dear brother, how can Bona be avenged But by your help to this troubled queen?
Renowned prince, how shall poor Henry live, Unless thou rescue him from foul despair?
Famous prince, how can poor Henry survive, Unless you save him from hopeless despair?
My quarrel and this English queen’s are one.
My conflict and this English queen’s are the same.
And mine, fair lady Bona, joins with yours.
And mine, beautiful lady Bona, is with yours.
And mine with hers, and thine, and Margaret’s. Therefore at last I firmly am resolved You shall have aid.
And mine with hers, and yours, and Margaret’s. So finally, I am firmly resolved You will have help.
Let me give humble thanks for all at once.
Let me give thanks right away for everything.
Then, England’s messenger, return in post, And tell false Edward, thy supposed king, That Lewis of France is sending over masquers To revel it with him and his new bride: Thou seest what’s past, go fear thy king withal.
Then, England’s messenger, go back immediately, And tell false Edward, your so-called king, That Lewis of France is sending over entertainers To celebrate with him and his new wife: You see what’s happened, now go warn your king.
Tell him, in hope he’ll prove a widower shortly, I’ll wear the willow garland for his sake.
Tell him, hoping he’ll soon be a widower, I’ll wear the willow garland in his honor.
Tell him, my mourning weeds are laid aside, And I am ready to put armour on.
Tell him, my mourning clothes are put away, And I’m ready to put on armor.
Tell him from me that he hath done me wrong, And therefore I’ll uncrown him ere’t be long. There’s thy reward: be gone.
Tell him from me that he has wronged me, And so I’ll take his crown from him soon. There’s your reward: go now.
But, Warwick, Thou and Oxford, with five thousand men, Shall cross the seas, and bid false Edward battle; And, as occasion serves, this noble queen And prince shall follow with a fresh supply. Yet, ere thou go, but answer me one doubt, What pledge have we of thy firm loyalty?
But, Warwick, You and Oxford, with five thousand men, Shall cross the sea and challenge false Edward to battle; And, as the situation calls for it, this noble queen And prince shall follow with a fresh supply. But, before you go, just answer me one question, What guarantee do we have of your true loyalty?
This shall assure my constant loyalty, That if our queen and this young prince agree, I’ll join mine eldest daughter and my joy To him forthwith in holy wedlock bands.
This will prove my loyalty, That if our queen and this young prince agree, I’ll marry my eldest daughter, my joy, To him right away in holy matrimony.
Yes, I agree, and thank you for your motion. Son Edward, she is fair and virtuous, Therefore delay not, give thy hand to Warwick; And, with thy hand, thy faith irrevocable, That only Warwick’s daughter shall be thine.
Yes, I agree, and thank you for your suggestion. Son Edward, she is beautiful and virtuous, So don’t delay, give your hand to Warwick; And, with your hand, your unbreakable promise, That only Warwick’s daughter will be yours.
Yes, I accept her, for she well deserves it; And here, to pledge my vow, I give my hand.
Yes, I accept her, for she truly deserves it; And here, to seal my vow, I give my hand.
Why stay we now? These soldiers shall be levied, And thou, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral, Shalt waft them over with our royal fleet. I long till Edward fall by war’s mischance, For mocking marriage with a dame of France.
Why are we waiting now? These soldiers will be raised, And you, Lord Bourbon, our high admiral, Will send them across with our royal fleet. I can’t wait until Edward falls due to war’s misfortune, For mocking marriage with a lady from France.
I came from Edward as ambassador, But I return his sworn and mortal foe: Matter of marriage was the charge he gave me, But dreadful war shall answer his demand. Had he none else to make a stale but me? Then none but I shall turn his jest to sorrow. I was the chief that raised him to the crown, And I’ll be chief to bring him down again: Not that I pity Henry’s misery, But seek revenge on Edward’s mockery.
I came from Edward as an ambassador, But I return as his sworn enemy: He gave me the task of negotiating a marriage, But a terrible war will be the answer to his request. Did he have no one else to use as a tool but me? Then no one but I will turn his joke into sadness. I was the one who helped him rise to the throne, And I’ll be the one to bring him down again: Not because I pity Henry’s suffering, But to get revenge for Edward’s mockery.