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Modern English
Will not King Richard let me speak with him?
Won’t King Richard let me talk to him?
No, my good lord; therefore be patient.
No, my lord; so please be patient.
Hastings, and Edward’s children, Rivers, Grey, Holy King Henry, and thy fair son Edward, Vaughan, and all that have miscarried By underhand corrupted foul injustice, If that your moody discontented souls Do through the clouds behold this present hour, Even for revenge mock my destruction! This is All-Souls’ day, fellows, is it not?
Hastings, and Edward’s children, Rivers, Grey, Holy King Henry, and your son Edward, Vaughan, and all who’ve suffered Because of secret, corrupt injustice, If your angry, discontented souls Look down on this moment from the clouds, Then for revenge, mock my destruction! This is All-Souls’ day, right, guys?
It is, my lord.
Yes, my lord.
Why, then All-Souls’ day is my body’s doomsday. This is the day that, in King Edward’s time, I wish’t might fall on me, when I was found False to his children or his wife’s allies This is the day wherein I wish’d to fall By the false faith of him I trusted most; This, this All-Souls’ day to my fearful soul Is the determined respite of my wrongs: That high All-Seer that I dallied with Hath turn’d my feigned prayer on my head And given in earnest what I begg’d in jest. Thus doth he force the swords of wicked men To turn their own points on their masters’ bosoms: Now Margaret’s curse is fallen upon my head; ’When he,’ quoth she, ’shall split thy heart with sorrow, Remember Margaret was a prophetess.’ Come, sirs, convey me to the block of shame; Wrong hath but wrong, and blame the due of blame.
Then All-Souls’ day is my death day. This is the day I wished for in King Edward’s time, When I was guilty of betraying his children or his wife’s friends. This is the day I wished to fall Because of the false loyalty of the man I trusted most; This, this All-Souls’ day, is the moment my soul fears As the time when my wrongs will be repaid: That great All-Seer I played games with Has turned my fake prayers back on me And given me for real what I asked for in jest. This is how he forces the swords of wicked men To turn on their masters’ hearts: Now Margaret’s curse has come down on me; ’When he,’ she said, ’shall split your heart with sorrow, Remember Margaret was a prophet.’ Come, gentlemen, take me to the shame block; Wrong brings only more wrong, and blame gets what blame deserves.