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Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son? ’Tis full three months since I did see him last; If any plague hang over us, ’tis he. I would to God, my lords, he might be found: Inquire at London, ’mongst the taverns there, For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, With unrestrained loose companions, Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, And beat our watch, and rob our passengers; Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy, Takes on the point of honour to support So dissolute a crew.
Can’t anyone tell me about my wasteful son? It’s been three months since I last saw him; If any disaster is coming our way, it’s because of him. I wish to God, my lords, that he could be found: Inquire in London, among the taverns there, For that’s where, they say, he spends his time, With wild, irresponsible companions, Even those, they say, who hang around the backstreets, And beat our watchmen, and rob our travelers; Which he, that young reckless and effeminate boy, Thinks it’s a matter of honor to support Such a corrupt group.
My lord, some two days since I saw the prince, And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
My lord, a couple of days ago I saw the prince, And told him about the celebrations at Oxford.
And what said the gallant?
And what did the brave young man say?
His answer was, he would unto the stews, And from the common’st creature pluck a glove, And wear it as a favour; and with that He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
His answer was that he would go to the brothels, And from the most common woman take a glove, And wear it as a token; and with that He would unseat the toughest challenger.
As dissolute as desperate; yet through both I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years May happily bring forth. But who comes here?
As wild as he is desperate; yet even in this I see some signs of better hope, which growing older Might bring out. But who’s this coming?
Where is the king?
Where is the king?
What means our cousin, that he stares and looks So wildly?
What’s the matter with our cousin, that he looks So strangely?
God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty, To have some conference with your grace alone.
God save your grace! I beg your majesty, To have a private talk with you alone.
Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
Please, leave us, and give us some privacy.
What is the matter with our cousin now?
What’s going on with our cousin now?
For ever may my knees grow to the earth, My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
May my knees always stick to the ground, May my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth Unless I’m forgiven before I stand or speak.
Intended or committed was this fault? If on the first, how heinous e’er it be, To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
Was this offense planned or committed? If it was the first, no matter how serious it is, To earn your future love, I forgive you.
Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done.
Then let me turn the key, So no one can come in until I finish speaking.
Have thy desire.
Do what you want.
[Within] My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
[Within] My lord, be careful; watch yourself; There’s a traitor right there with you.
Villain, I’ll make thee safe.
You villain, I’ll protect you.
Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear.
Stop your vengeful hand; you don’t need to be afraid.
[Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy king: Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open.
[Within] Open the door, you foolish king: Should I tell you treason to your face out of love? Open the door, or I’ll break it down.
What is the matter, uncle? speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it.
What’s wrong, uncle? Speak; Catch your breath; tell us how close the danger is, So we can get ready to face it.
Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show.
Read this letter here, and you’ll understand The treason that I’m too hurried to explain.
Remember, as thou read’st, thy promise pass’d: I do repent me; read not my name there My heart is not confederate with my hand.
Remember, as you read, the promise you made: I regret it; don’t read my name there My heart doesn’t agree with what my hand did.
It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the traitor’s bosom, king; Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
It was there, villain, before you signed it. I took it from the traitor’s chest, king; Fear, not love, is what makes him sorry: Don’t feel sorry for him, or your pity will be A snake that will wound you to the heart.
O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy! O loyal father of a treacherous son! Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain, From when this stream through muddy passages Hath held his current and defiled himself! Thy overflow of good converts to bad, And thy abundant goodness shall excuse This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
Oh, what a wicked, bold conspiracy! Oh, loyal father of a traitorous son! You pure, untarnished fountain, From which this dirty stream has flowed And polluted itself! Your overflowing goodness turns to evil, And your kindness will make up for The deadly stain in your rebellious son.
So shall my virtue be his vice’s bawd; And he shall spend mine honour with his shame, As thriftless sons their scraping fathers’ gold. Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies: Thou kill’st me in his life; giving him breath, The traitor lives, the true man’s put to death.
So my virtue will become the cause of his vices; And he’ll waste my honor with his shame, Like wasteful sons who squander their father’s money. My honor survives when his dishonor dies, Or my dishonored life is buried in his shame: You’re killing me by giving him life; The traitor lives, the honest man dies.
[Within] What ho, my liege! for God’s sake, let me in.
[Within] What’s going on, my lord! Please, for God’s sake, let me in.
What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
Who’s making that loud, pleading cry?
A woman, and thy aunt, great king; ’tis I. Speak with me, pity me, open the door. A beggar begs that never begg’d before.
A woman, and your aunt, great king; it’s me. Talk to me, have mercy on me, open the door. A beggar begging, though I’ve never begged before.
Our scene is alter’d from a serious thing, And now changed to ’The Beggar and the King.’ My dangerous cousin, let your mother in: I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
The situation has changed from something serious, And now it’s become ‘The Beggar and the King.’ My dangerous cousin, let your mother in: I know she’s here to pray for your awful sin.
If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. This fester’d joint cut off, the rest rest sound; This let alone will all the rest confound.
If you forgive anyone who prays for forgiveness, More sins may be forgiven through this mercy. Cut off this infected part, and the rest will heal; Leaving this alone will only make things worse.
O king, believe not this hard-hearted man! Love loving not itself none other can.
Oh, king, don’t believe this cold-hearted man! Love that doesn’t love itself can’t love anyone.
Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
You crazy woman, what are you doing here? Are you trying to raise another traitor?
Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege.
Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle lord.
Rise up, good aunt.
Get up, good aunt.
Not yet, I thee beseech: For ever will I walk upon my knees, And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
Not yet, I beg you: I will forever walk on my knees, And never see a happy day, Until you bring joy; until you give me joy, By pardoning Rutland, my rebellious son.
Unto my mother’s prayers I bend my knee.
I bow my knee to my mother’s prayers.
Against them both my true joints bended be. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
I bend my knees against both of you. May you not succeed if you grant any mercy!
Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast: He prays but faintly and would be denied; We pray with heart and soul and all beside: His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow: His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
Is he pleading seriously? Look at his face; His eyes aren’t shedding any tears, his prayers are a joke; His words come from his mouth, ours come from our hearts: He prays half-heartedly and expects to be refused; We pray with heart, soul, and everything we have: His tired body would gladly stand, I know; Our knees will kneel until they can’t anymore: His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; We have true passion and deep honesty. Our prayers surpass his; so let them receive The mercy that true prayer should deserve.
Good aunt, stand up.
Good aunt, please rise.
Nay, do not say, ’stand up;’ Say, ’pardon’ first, and afterwards ’stand up.’ And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, ’Pardon’ should be the first word of thy speech. I never long’d to hear a word till now; Say ’pardon,’ king; let pity teach thee how: The word is short, but not so short as sweet; No word like ’pardon’ for kings’ mouths so meet.
No, don’t say ‘rise’; Say ‘pardon’ first, and then ‘rise’ after. And if I were your nurse, teaching you to speak, ‘Pardon’ would be the first word on your lips. I’ve never longed to hear a word more than this; Say ‘pardon,’ King; let mercy show you how: The word is short, but sweeter than its length; No word suits a king’s mouth better than ‘pardon.’
Speak it in French, king; say, ’pardonne moi.’
Say it in French, King; say, ‘pardonne moi.’
Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, That set’st the word itself against the word! Speak ’pardon’ as ’tis current in our land; The chopping French we do not understand. Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there; Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, Pity may move thee ’pardon’ to rehearse.
Are you teaching pardon to destroy pardon? Ah, my harsh husband, my cold-hearted lord, Who pits the word against itself! Say ‘pardon’ as we do in our land; We don’t understand that confusing French. Your eyes begin to speak; put your tongue there; Or, if not, let your heart listen closely; That, hearing how our complaints and prayers touch you, Mercy may move you to repeat ‘pardon.’
Good aunt, stand up.
Good aunt, please rise.
I do not sue to stand; Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
I’m not asking to rise; ‘Pardon’ is the only thing I seek.
I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
I pardon him, just as God will pardon me.
O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again; Twice saying ’pardon’ doth not pardon twain, But makes one pardon strong.
Oh, what a great advantage a kneeling knee gives! Yet I am filled with fear: say it again; Saying ‘pardon’ twice doesn’t make two pardons, But strengthens the power of one.
With all my heart I pardon him.
With all my heart I pardon him.
A god on earth thou art.
You are like a god on earth.
But for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot, With all the rest of that consorted crew, Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. Good uncle, help to order several powers To Oxford, or where’er these traitors are: They shall not live within this world, I swear, But I will have them, if I once know where. Uncle, farewell: and, cousin too, adieu: Your mother well hath pray’d, and prove you true.
But for our loyal brother-in-law and the abbot, Along with all the rest of that traitorous group, Destruction will follow them at every step. Good uncle, help arrange the different forces To go to Oxford, or wherever these traitors are: They won’t live in this world, I swear, But I will catch them, if I find out where they are. Uncle, farewell; and cousin, goodbye: Your mother has prayed for you, and may you stay true.
Come, my old son: I pray God make thee new.
Come, my old son: I pray God renew you.