Wait, Whitmore; your prisoner is a Prince,
the Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
WHITMORE.
The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!
The Duke of Suffolk wrapped up in rags!
SUFFOLK.
Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke;
Jove sometime went disguis'd, and why not I?
Yes, but these rags are not part of the Duke;
Jove sometimes went about disguised, why shouldn't I?
CAPTAIN.
But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
But Jove was never killed, as you will be.
SUFFOLK.
Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
The honourable blood of Lancaster,
Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?
Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule
And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
How often hast thou waited at my cup,
Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board,
When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
Remember it and let it make thee crest-fallen,
Ay, and allay thus thy abortive pride,
How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
And duly waited for my coming forth.
This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
Unknown and lowborn servant, the blood of King Henry,
the honourable blood of Lancaster
must not be shed by such a lowly groom.
Haven't you kissed my hand and held my stirrup?
bear headed plodded alongside my decorated mule
and counted yourself happy if I shook my head at you?
How often did you serve me drinks,
bring me food, kneel down at the table,
when I feasted with Queen Margaret?
Remember that and stop this nonsense,
forget your foolish pride, remember
how you have waited in my outside lobby
for me to come out.
This hand of mine has written things on your behalf,
and so it should calm your runaway tongue.
WHITMORE.
Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
Speak, captain, shall I stab this pitiful servant?
CAPTAIN.
First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
Firstly let me stab him with my words, as he has stabbed me.
SUFFOLK.
Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.
Low slave, your words are blunt and so are you.
CAPTAIN.
Convey him hence, and on our long-boat's side
Strike off his head.
Take him away, and at the side of our longboat
chop off his head.
SUFFOLK.
Thou dar'st not, for thy own.
You wouldn't dare, you'd be risking your own.
CAPTAIN.
Yes, Pole!
Yes, Pole!
SUFFOLK.
Pole!
Pole!
CAPTAIN.
Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
Ay, kennel, puddle, sink, whose filth and dirt
Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
For swallowing the treasure of the realm;
Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
And thou that smil'dst at good Duke Humphrey's death
Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again.
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
For daring to affy a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
By devilish policy art thou grown great
And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg'd
With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
The false revolting Normans thorough thee
Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
Hath slain their governors, surpris'd our forts,
And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
As hating thee are rising up in arms;
And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
By shameful murther of a guiltless king
And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours
Advance our half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
The commons here in Kent are up in arms;
And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
Is crept into the palace of our king,
And all by thee.--Away! convey him hence.
Yes, sewer, puddle, sink, whose filth
pollutes the silver spring of England;
now I will shut your gaping mouth
for swallowing the country's treasure.
Your lips, that kissed the Queen, shall sweep the ground;
and you who smiled at the death of good Duke Humphrey
will grimace in vain against the insensible winds
which will hiss at you in contempt:
and you shall be married to the hags of hell
for daring to arrange a marriage between
a mighty Lord and the daughter of a worthless king,
who had no subjects, wealth or crown.
Through devilish politics you have grown great,
and, like ambitious Sulla, you have stuffed yourself
on the bleeding heart of your mother country.
Because of you Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
the false rebellious Normans refused to call
us lords because of you, and Picardy
has killed their governors, ambushed our forts,
and sent the ragged soldiers home wounded.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevils as well,
whose dreadful souls have never known defeat,
have risen up in arms out of hate for you:
and now the house of York, pushed away from the crown
by the shameful murder of an innocent king,
and great arrogant tyranny,
is burning with the fire of revenge; this hopeful sight
is approaching our half shown sun, trying to shine,
and defeating it.
The common people here in Kent are up in arms;
and to conclude, shame and beggary
have got a foothold in the palace of our king,
and all because of you. Be off with you! Take him away.
SUFFOLK.
O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
Small things make base men proud; this villain here,
Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.--
Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob bee-hives.
It is impossible that I should die
By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
Thy words move rage and not remorse in me.
I go of message from the queen to France;
I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.
Oh, I wish I were a God, so I could blast
this low-down scum with lightning!
Small things make lowly men arrogant; this villain here,
being captain of a pinnace, is more threatening
than Bargulus the great Illyrian pirate.
Insects don't suck eagles' blood but rob beehives.
It is impossible that I should die
at the hands of such a low person as you.
Your words make me angry, not sorry.
I'm taking a message from the Queen to France;
I order you to take me safely across the Channel.
CAPTAIN.
Walter,--
Walter–
WHITMORE.
Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
Come, Suffolk, I must take you to your death.
SUFFOLK.
Gelidus timor occupat artus; it is thee I fear.
A freezing fear takes over me; it is you that I fear.
WHITMORE.
Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?
You will have reason to fear me before I finish with you.
What, are you afraid now? Now will you kneel?
1 GENTLEMAN.
My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.
My gracious lord, beg him, speak sweetly to him.
SUFFOLK.
Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
Us'd to command, untaught to plead for favour.
Far be it we should honour such as these
With humble suit; no, rather let my head
Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
Save to the God of heaven and to my king,
And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear;
More can I bear than you dare execute.
Suffolk's royal tongue is stern and rough,
used to commanding, it doesn't know how to beg.
It's out of the question to honour this type of person
with humble begging; no, I would rather let my head
bow down to the block than for my knees to bow to anybody
apart from the God of heaven and my king,
and I would sooner have my head on a bloody pole
than take my hat off to a vulgar groom.
True nobility does not know fear;
I can stand more than you would dare to do.
CAPTAIN.
Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
Take him away, don't let him say any more.
SUFFOLK.
Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
That this my death may never be forgot!
Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murther'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
Come, soldiers, show what cruelty you can,
so that my death will never be forgotten!
Great men often die at the hands of the lowly;
a Roman soldier and a slavish bandit
murdered sweet Tully; the bastard hand of Brutus
stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders
killed Pompey the great, and Suffolk dies at the hands of pirates.
[Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk.]
CAPTAIN.
And as for these whose ransom we have set,
It is our pleasure one of them depart,
Therefore come you with us, and let him go.
As for those for whom we are demanding ransom,
we give permission for one of them to leave,
so you come with us, and you can go.
[Exeunt all but the 1 Gentleman.]
[Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK'S body.]
WHITMORE.
There let his head and lifeless body lie
Until the queen his mistress bury it.
Let his head and lifeless body lie there
until the Queen his mistress buries it.
[Exit.]
1 GENTLEMAN.
O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
His body will I bear unto the king.
If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
So will the queen, that living held him dear.
What a barbarous and bloody spectacle!
I will take his body to the king.
If he doesn't take revenge, his friends will;
so will the Queen, who loved him dearly when he was alive.
[Exit with the body.]
[Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND.]
GEORGE.
Come, and get thee a sword, though made of
a lath; they have been up these two days.
Come, get yourself a sword, even if it's
wood; they've been at it for two days.
HOLLAND.
They have the more need to sleep now, then.
They'll be needing some sleep now then.
BEVIS.
I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the
commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.
I'm telling you, Jack Cade the clothmaker means to
turn this whole kingdom upside down, shake it up.
HOLLAND.
So he had need, for 't is threadbare. Well, I say
it was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up.
He needs to, it's worn out. Well, I say
that England has never been a happy place since the rise of the gentlemen.
BEVIS.
O miserable age! virtue is not regarded in
handicraftsmen.
Ah, miserable time! Goodness is not
recognised in workmen.
HOLLAND.
The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.
The nobility sneer at those who wear leather aprons.
BEVIS.
Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen.
Worse than that, the Kings Council are poor workmen.
HOLLAND.
True; and yet it is said, labour in thy vocation,
which is as much to say as, let the magistrates be labouring
men; and therefore should we be magistrates.
It's true; but they say you should work at your job,
which means that the magistrates should be working men,
which means we should be magistrates.
BEVIS.
Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a brave
mind than a hard hand.
You're quite right; there's no better sign of a good
mind than a calloused hand.
HOLLAND.
I see them! I see them! There's Best's son, the
tanner of Wingham,--
I can see them! I can see them! There is Best's son, the
tanner from Wingham–
BEVIS.
He shall have the skin of our enemies, to make dog's-
leather of.
He shall have the skin of our enemies, to make a
dog collar.
HOLLAND.
And Dick the butcher,--
And Dick the butcher–
BEVIS.
Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's
throat cut like a calf.
So sin will be struck down like an ox, and evil
will have its throat cut like a calf.
HOLLAND.
And Smith the weaver,--
And Smith the weaver–
BEVIS.
Argo, their thread of life is spun.
And so, the thread of their life has been spun.
HOLLAND.
Come, come, let's fall in with them.
Come on, let's join them.
[Drum. Enter CADE, DICK the Butcher, SMITH the Weaver,
and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers.]
CADE.
We John Cade, so term'd of our supposed father,--
I John Cade, so-called after my supposed father–
DICK.
[Aside.] Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.
Or perhaps for stealing a barrel of herrings.
CADE.
For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the
spirit of putting down kings and princes,--Command silence.
As our enemies shall fall before us, inspired
with the spirit of overthrowing kings and princes, call for silence.
DICK.
Silence!
Silence!
CADE.
My father was a Mortimer,--
My father was a Mortimer–
DICK.
[Aside.] He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.
He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.
CADE.
My mother a Plantagenet,--
My mother a Plantagenet–
DICK.
[Aside.] I knew her well; she was a midwife.
I knew her well; she was a midwife.
CADE.
My wife descended of the Lacies,--
My wife was descended from the Lacies–
DICK.
[Aside.] She was, indeed, a pedler's daughter, and sold
many laces.
Yes she was, the daughter of a peddler, she sold
plenty of laces.
SMITH.
[Aside.] But now of late, not able to travel with her
furred pack, she washes bucks here at home.
But recently, as she cannot travel,
she takes in washing here at home.
The Complete Works of William Shakespeare In Plain and Simple English (Translated) Page 149
