Original
Modern English
Now here a period of tumultuous broils. Away with Oxford to Hames Castle straight: For Somerset, off with his guilty head. Go, bear them hence; I will not hear them speak.
Now, here’s the end of all this fighting. Take Oxford to Hames Castle right away: As for Somerset, cut off his guilty head. Take them away; I don’t want to hear them speak.
For my part, I’ll not trouble thee with words.
As for me, I won’t bother you with words.
Nor I, but stoop with patience to my fortune.
Nor I, but I’ll quietly accept my fate.
So part we sadly in this troublous world, To meet with joy in sweet Jerusalem.
So we part sadly in this troubled world, To meet again in joy in sweet Jerusalem.
Is proclamation made, that who finds Edward Shall have a high reward, and he his life?
Has it been announced, that whoever finds Edward Will get a great reward, and will spare his life?
It is: and lo, where youthful Edward comes!
Yes, it has: and look, here comes young Edward!
Bring forth the gallant, let us hear him speak. What! can so young a thorn begin to prick? Edward, what satisfaction canst thou make For bearing arms, for stirring up my subjects, And all the trouble thou hast turn’d me to?
Bring forth the brave one, let’s hear him speak. What! Can such a young thorn begin to prick? Edward, what explanation can you offer For taking up arms, for stirring up my people, And all the trouble you’ve caused me?
Speak like a subject, proud ambitious York! Suppose that I am now my father’s mouth; Resign thy chair, and where I stand kneel thou, Whilst I propose the selfsame words to thee, Which traitor, thou wouldst have me answer to.
Speak like a loyal subject, proud ambitious York! Suppose I am now speaking for my father; Give up your seat, and kneel where I stand, While I say the same words to you, Which, traitor, you wanted me to answer to.
Ah, that thy father had been so resolved!
Ah, if only your father had been as determined!
That you might still have worn the petticoat, And ne’er have stol’n the breech from Lancaster.
You should have kept wearing the dress, And never stolen the pants from Lancaster.
Let AEsop fable in a winter’s night; His currish riddles sort not with this place.
Let Aesop tell his fables on a cold night; His nasty little riddles don’t belong here.
By heaven, brat, I’ll plague ye for that word.
By God, you little brat, I’ll punish you for that word.
Ay, thou wast born to be a plague to men.
Yes, you were born to be a curse to men.
For God’s sake, take away this captive scold.
For God’s sake, get rid of this angry woman.
Nay, take away this scolding crookback rather.
No, get rid of this scolding hunchback instead.
Peace, wilful boy, or I will charm your tongue.
Quiet, you stubborn boy, or I’ll shut you up.
Untutor’d lad, thou art too malapert.
Untrained boy, you’re being too cheeky.
I know my duty; you are all undutiful: Lascivious Edward, and thou perjured George, And thou mis-shapen Dick, I tell ye all I am your better, traitors as ye are: And thou usurp’st my father’s right and mine.
I know my place; you’re all disobedient: Lustful Edward, and you lying George, And you misshapen Richard, I’m telling you all I’m better than you, traitors that you are: And you’re stealing my father’s and my rights.
Take that, thou likeness of this railer here.
Take that, you image of this foul-mouthed man.
Sprawl’st thou? take that, to end thy agony.
You’re flailing about? Take this to end your pain.
And there’s for twitting me with perjury.
And this is for calling me a liar.
O, kill me too!
Oh, kill me too!
Marry, and shall.
Yes, and I will.
Hold, Richard, hold; for we have done too much.
Stop, Richard, stop; we’ve already done too much.
Why should she live, to fill the world with words?
Why should she live, just to fill the world with talk?
What, doth she swoon? use means for her recovery.
What, is she fainting? Do something to bring her back.
Clarence, excuse me to the king my brother; I’ll hence to London on a serious matter: Ere ye come there, be sure to hear some news.
Clarence, tell the king, my brother, I’m leaving; I’ve got to go to London on an important matter: Before you get there, be sure to hear some news.
What? what?
What? What news?
The Tower, the Tower.
The Tower, the Tower.
O Ned, sweet Ned! speak to thy mother, boy! Canst thou not speak? O traitors! murderers! They that stabb’d Caesar shed no blood at all, Did not offend, nor were not worthy blame, If this foul deed were by to equal it: He was a man; this, in respect, a child: And men ne’er spend their fury on a child. What’s worse than murderer, that I may name it? No, no, my heart will burst, and if I speak: And I will speak, that so my heart may burst. Butchers and villains! bloody cannibals! How sweet a plant have you untimely cropp’d! You have no children, butchers! if you had, The thought of them would have stirr’d up remorse: But if you ever chance to have a child, Look in his youth to have him so cut off As, deathmen, you have rid this sweet young prince!
Oh Ned, sweet Ned! Speak to your mother, boy! Can’t you speak? Oh, traitors! Murderers! Those who stabbed Caesar didn’t shed any blood, Didn’t offend, nor did they deserve blame, If this horrible deed is meant to match it: He was a man; but this, in comparison, a child: And men never take their rage out on a child. What’s worse than a murderer, that I can call it? No, no, my heart will break if I speak: But I will speak, so my heart may break. Butchers and villains! Bloody cannibals! How sweet a plant you’ve cut off too soon! You have no children, you butchers! If you did, The thought of them would make you feel regret: But if you ever have a child, Look at him as a youth, and see him cut off Just as you’ve taken this sweet young prince!
Away with her; go, bear her hence perforce.
Take her away; force her out of here.
Nay, never bear me hence, dispatch me here, Here sheathe thy sword, I’ll pardon thee my death: What, wilt thou not? then, Clarence, do it thou.
No, don’t take me away, kill me here, Put your sword away, I’ll forgive you for killing me: What, you won’t? Then, Clarence, you do it.
By heaven, I will not do thee so much ease.
By heaven, I won’t do you that favor.
Good Clarence, do; sweet Clarence, do thou do it.
Good Clarence, please; sweet Clarence, you do it.
Didst thou not hear me swear I would not do it?
Didn’t you hear me swear I wouldn’t do it?
Ay, but thou usest to forswear thyself: ’Twas sin before, but now ’tis charity. What, wilt thou not? Where is that devil’s butcher, Hard-favour’d Richard? Richard, where art thou? Thou art not here: murder is thy alms-deed; Petitioners for blood thou ne’er put’st back.
Yes, but you’re known to break your word: It was a sin before, but now it’s an act of charity. What, won’t you? Where is that devil’s butcher, Grim-faced Richard? Richard, where are you? You’re not here: murder is your charity; You never turn away those asking for blood.
Away, I say; I charge ye, bear her hence.
Go away, I said; I order you, take her away.
So come to you and yours, as to this Prince!
May the same happen to you and yours, as has happened to this Prince!
Where’s Richard gone?
Where has Richard gone?
To London, all in post; and, as I guess, To make a bloody supper in the Tower.
To London, on horseback, and I think, He’s going to prepare a bloody dinner in the Tower.
He’s sudden, if a thing comes in his head. Now march we hence: discharge the common sort With pay and thanks, and let’s away to London And see our gentle queen how well she fares: By this, I hope, she hath a son for me.
He’s quick to act when something comes into his head. Now let’s march on: pay the common soldiers and send them off with thanks, Then let’s go to London And see how our gentle queen is doing: By now, I hope she has given me a son.