Original
Modern English
Where is the post that came from valiant Oxford? How far hence is thy lord, mine honest fellow?
Where is the messenger who came from brave Oxford? How far is your lord from here, my honest man?
By this at Dunsmore, marching hitherward.
He’s at Dunsmore right now, coming this way.
How far off is our brother Montague? Where is the post that came from Montague?
How far is our brother Montague? Where’s the messenger from Montague?
By this at Daintry, with a puissant troop.
He’s at Daintry now, with a powerful army.
Say, Somerville, what says my loving son? And, by thy guess, how nigh is Clarence now?
Tell me, Somerville, what does my loyal son say? And, by your guess, how close is Clarence now?
At Southam I did leave him with his forces, And do expect him here some two hours hence.
I left him at Southam with his troops, And expect him here in about two hours.
Then Clarence is at hand, I hear his drum.
Then Clarence is almost here, I hear his drum.
It is not his, my lord; here Southam lies: The drum your honour hears marcheth from Warwick.
That’s not his, my lord; Southam is nearby: The drum you hear is marching from Warwick.
Who should that be? belike, unlook’d-for friends.
Who could that be? Probably unexpected friends.
They are at hand, and you shall quickly know.
They’re close by, and you’ll know soon enough.
Go, trumpet, to the walls, and sound a parle.
Go, trumpet, to the walls, and ask for a parley.
See how the surly Warwick mans the wall!
Look how the grumpy Warwick defends the wall!
O unbid spite! is sportful Edward come? Where slept our scouts, or how are they seduced, That we could hear no news of his repair?
Oh, what a nasty thing! Has playful Edward come? Where were our scouts, or how were they tricked, That we didn’t hear anything about his arrival?
Now, Warwick, wilt thou ope the city gates, Speak gentle words and humbly bend thy knee, Call Edward king and at his hands beg mercy? And he shall pardon thee these outrages.
Now, Warwick, will you open the city gates, Speak kindly, bend your knee humbly, Call Edward king and beg mercy from him? And he will forgive you for these offenses.
Nay, rather, wilt thou draw thy forces hence, Confess who set thee up and pluck’d thee own, Call Warwick patron and be penitent? And thou shalt still remain the Duke of York.
No, instead, will you move your forces away, Admit who put you up to this and brought you down, Call Warwick your patron and apologize? And you’ll still be the Duke of York.
I thought, at least, he would have said the king; Or did he make the jest against his will?
I thought, at least, he would have called him king; Or did he make the joke against his own will?
Is not a dukedom, sir, a goodly gift?
Isn’t a dukedom, sir, a fine gift?
Ay, by my faith, for a poor earl to give: I’ll do thee service for so good a gift.
Yes, by my faith, for a poor earl to give: I’ll serve you for such a good gift.
’Twas I that gave the kingdom to thy brother.
It was I who gave the kingdom to your brother.
Why then ’tis mine, if but by Warwick’s gift.
Then it’s mine, if only by Warwick’s gift.
Thou art no Atlas for so great a weight: And weakling, Warwick takes his gift again; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.
You’re no Atlas to carry such a great weight: And weakling, Warwick takes his gift back; And Henry is my king, Warwick his subject.
But Warwick’s king is Edward’s prisoner: And, gallant Warwick, do but answer this: What is the body when the head is off?
But Warwick’s king is Edward’s prisoner: And, brave Warwick, just answer this: What is the body when the head is gone?
Alas, that Warwick had no more forecast, But, whiles he thought to steal the single ten, The king was slily finger’d from the deck! You left poor Henry at the Bishop’s palace, And, ten to one, you’ll meet him in the Tower.
Alas, Warwick didn’t think ahead, But while he thought to steal the easy prize, The king was slyly taken off the board! You left poor Henry at the Bishop’s palace, And, ten to one, you’ll find him in the Tower.
’Tis even so; yet you are Warwick still.
It’s true; yet you are still Warwick.
Come, Warwick, take the time; kneel down, kneel down: Nay, when? strike now, or else the iron cools.
Come, Warwick, take your chance; kneel down, kneel down: No, when? Strike now, or the iron cools.
I had rather chop this hand off at a blow, And with the other fling it at thy face, Than bear so low a sail, to strike to thee.
I’d rather chop this hand off in one blow, And throw it at your face with the other, Than lower myself like that, to bow to you.
Sail how thou canst, have wind and tide thy friend, This hand, fast wound about thy coal-black hair Shall, whiles thy head is warm and new cut off, Write in the dust this sentence with thy blood, ’Wind-changing Warwick now can change no more.’
Sail however you can, let the wind and tide be on your side, This hand, wrapped tightly around your coal-black hair, Will, while your head is still warm and freshly cut off, Write this sentence in the dust with your blood, ’Warwick, the wind-changer, can never change again.’
O cheerful colours! see where Oxford comes!
Oh, happy colours! Look, here comes Oxford!
Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!
Oxford, Oxford, for Lancaster!
The gates are open, let us enter too.
The gates are open, let’s go in as well.
So other foes may set upon our backs. Stand we in good array; for they no doubt Will issue out again and bid us battle: If not, the city being but of small defence, We’ll quickly rouse the traitors in the same.
So that other enemies may attack us from behind. Let’s stand in a good formation; they’ll no doubt Come out again and challenge us to fight: If not, the city is poorly defended, And we’ll quickly stir up the traitors inside.
O, welcome, Oxford! for we want thy help.
Oh, welcome, Oxford! We really need your help.
Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
Montague, Montague, for Lancaster!
Thou and thy brother both shall buy this treason Even with the dearest blood your bodies bear.
You and your brother will pay for this betrayal With the most precious blood your bodies carry.
The harder match’d, the greater victory: My mind presageth happy gain and conquest.
The tougher the fight, the greater the victory: I feel a strong sense of success and triumph coming.
Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!
Somerset, Somerset, for Lancaster!
Two of thy name, both Dukes of Somerset, Have sold their lives unto the house of York; And thou shalt be the third if this sword hold.
Two men with your name, both Dukes of Somerset, Sold their lives to the house of York; And you’ll be the third if this sword does its job.
And lo, where George of Clarence sweeps along, Of force enough to bid his brother battle; With whom an upright zeal to right prevails More than the nature of a brother’s love! Come, Clarence, come; thou wilt, if Warwick call.
And look, here comes George of Clarence, sweeping by, Strong enough to challenge his brother to a fight; With him, a sense of duty to do what’s right Matters more than the bond of brotherly love! Come, Clarence, come; you will, if Warwick calls.
Father of Warwick, know you what this means?
Father of Warwick, do you know what this means?
Look here, I throw my infamy at thee I will not ruinate my father’s house, Who gave his blood to lime the stones together, And set up Lancaster. Why, trow’st thou, Warwick, That Clarence is so harsh, so blunt, unnatural, To bend the fatal instruments of war Against his brother and his lawful king? Perhaps thou wilt object my holy oath: To keep that oath were more impiety Than Jephthah’s, when he sacrificed his daughter. I am so sorry for my trespass made That, to deserve well at my brother’s hands, I here proclaim myself thy mortal foe, With resolution, wheresoe’er I meet thee-- As I will meet thee, if thou stir abroad-- To plague thee for thy foul misleading me. And so, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy thee, And to my brother turn my blushing cheeks. Pardon me, Edward, I will make amends: And, Richard, do not frown upon my faults, For I will henceforth be no more unconstant.
Look here, I throw my shame at you I won’t destroy my father’s house, The one that gave its blood to bind the stones together, And set up Lancaster. Why, do you think, Warwick, That Clarence is so cruel, so harsh, unnatural, To use the deadly tools of war Against his brother and his rightful king? Maybe you’ll argue with my sworn oath: Keeping that oath would be more sinful Than Jephthah’s, when he sacrificed his daughter. I’m so sorry for what I’ve done That, to make things right with my brother, I now declare myself your enemy, And, whenever I meet you, I’ll punish you For misleading me so badly. So, proud-hearted Warwick, I defy you, And turn my reddened face to my brother. Forgive me, Edward, I will make it right: And, Richard, don’t frown at my mistakes, For I’ll no longer be so changeable.
Now welcome more, and ten times more beloved, Than if thou never hadst deserved our hate.
Now you’re more welcome, and ten times more loved, Than if you had never deserved our hate.
Welcome, good Clarence; this is brotherlike.
Welcome, good Clarence; this is how brothers act.
O passing traitor, perjured and unjust!
Oh, you’re a traitor, perjured and unjust!
What, Warwick, wilt thou leave the town and fight? Or shall we beat the stones about thine ears?
What, Warwick, are you going to leave the city and fight? Or should we beat the stones around your head?
Alas, I am not coop’d here for defence! I will away towards Barnet presently, And bid thee battle, Edward, if thou darest.
Alas, I’m not trapped here to defend myself! I will leave for Barnet right now, And challenge you to battle, Edward, if you dare.
Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the way. Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!
Yes, Warwick, Edward dares, and leads the charge. Lords, to the field; Saint George and victory!