Текст книги "William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition"

Автор книги: William Shakespeare

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4.1 Alarums within, and the chambers be discharged like as it were a fight at sea. And then enter the Captain of the ship, the Master, the Master’s Mate, Walter Whitmore, ⌈and others⌉. With them, as their prisoners, the Duke of Suffolk, disguised, and two Gentlemen

CAPTAIN

The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day

Is crept into the bosom of the sea ;

And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades

That drag the tragic melancholy night;

Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings

Clip dead men’s graves, and from their misty jaws

Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize,

For whilst our pinnace anchors in the downs,

Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,

Or with their blood stain this discoloured shore.

Master, (pointing to the First Gentleman) this prisoner

freely give I thee,

(To the Mate)

And thou, that art his mate, make boot of this.

He points to the Second Gentleman

(To Walter Whitmore)

The other (pointing to Suffolk), Walter Whitmore, is

thy share.

FIRST GENTLEMAN (to the Master)

What is my ransom, Master, let me know.

MASTER

A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.

MATE (to the Second Gentleman)

And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.

CAPTAIN (to both the Gentlemen)

What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,

And bear the name and port of gentlemen?

⌈WHITMORE⌉

Cut both the villains’ throats! ⌈To Suffolk⌉ For die you

shall.

The lives of those which we have lost in fight

⌈ ⌉

Be counterpoised with such a petty sum.

FIRST GENTLEMAN (to the Master)

I’ll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life.

SECOND GENTLEMAN (to the Mate)

And so will,I, and write home for it straight.

WHITMORE (to Suffolk)

I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,

And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die—

And so should these, if I might have my will.

CAPTAIN

Be not so rash; take ransom; let him live.

SUFFOLK

Look on my George—I am a gentleman.

Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.

WHITMORE

And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.

Suffolk starteth

How now—why starts thou? What doth thee affright?

SUFFOLK

Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.

A cunning man did calculate my birth,

And told me that by ‘water’ I should die.

Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;

Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded.

WHITMORE

Gualtier or Walter—which it is I care not.

Never yet did base dishonour blur our name

But with our sword we wiped away the blot.

Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,

Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,

And I proclaimed a coward through the world.

SUFFOLK

Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,

The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

WHITMORE

The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags?

SUFFOLK

Ay, but these rags are no part of the Duke.

Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I?

CAPTAIN

But Jove was never slain as thou shalt be.

SUFFOLK

Obscure and lousy swain, King Henry’s blood,

The honourable blood of Lancaster,

Must not be shed by such a jady groom.

Hast thou not kissed thy hand and held my stirrup?

Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mute

And thought thee happy when I shook my head?

How often hast thou waited at my cup,

Fed from my trencher, kneeled down at the board

When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?

Remember it, and let it make thee crestfall’n,

Ay, and allay this 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.

WHITMORE

Speak, Captain—shall I stab the forlorn swain?

CAPTAIN

First let my words stab him as he hath me.

SUFFOLK

Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.

CAPTAIN

Convey him hence and, on our longboat’s side, Strike off his head.

SUFFOLK Thou dar’st not for thy own.

CAPTAIN

Pole—

⌈SUFFOLK⌉ Pole?

CAPTAIN 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 kissed the Queen shall sweep the ground,

And thou that smiledst 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, overgorged

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, surprised our forts,

And sent the ragged soldiers, wounded, home.

The princely Warwick, and the Nevilles 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 murder of a guiltless king

And lofty, proud, encroaching tyranny,

Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours

Advance our half-faced 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. (To Whitmore) Away, convey him

hence.

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 beehives.

It is impossible that I should die

By such a lowly vassal as thyself.

Thy words move rage, and not remorse in me.

⌈CAPTAIN⌉

But my deeds, Suffolk, soon shall stay thy rage.

SUFFOLK

I go of message from the Queen to France—

I charge thee, waft me safely cross the Channel!

CAPTAIN Walter—

WHITMORE

Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.

SUFFOLK

Paene gelidus timor occupat artus—

It is thee I fear.

WHITMORE

Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.

What, are ye daunted now? Now will ye stoop?

FIRST GENTLEMAN (to Suffolk)

My gracious lord, entreat him—speak him fair.

SUFFOLK

Suffolk’s imperial tongue is stern and rough,

Used 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 uncovered to the vulgar groom.

True nobility is exempt from fear;

More can I bear than you dare execute.

CAPTAIN

Hale him away, and let him talk no more.

SUFFOLK

Come, ‘soldiers’, show what cruelty ye can,

That this my death may never be forgot.

Great men oft die by vile Besonians;

A Roman sworder and banditto slave

Murdered sweet Tully ; Brutus’ bastard hand

Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders

Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

Exit Whitmore with Suffolk

CAPTAIN

And as for these whose ransom we have set,

It is our pleasure one of them depart.

(To the Second Gentleman)

Therefore, come you with us and (to his men, pointing

to the First Gentleman) let him go.

Exeunt all but the First Gentleman

Enter Whitmore with Suffolk’s head and body

WHITMORE

There let his head and lifeless body lie,

Until the Queen his mistress bury it. Exit

FIRST 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.

Exit with Suffolk’s head and body

4.2 Enter two Rebels ⌈with long staves⌉

FIRST REBEL Come and get thee a sword, though made of a lath; they have been up these two days.

SECOND REBEL They have the more need to sleep now then.

FIRST REBEL I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.

SECOND REBEL So he had need, for ‘tis threadbare. Well, I say it was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up.

FIRST REBEL O, miserable age! Virtue is not regarded in handicraftsmen.

SECOND REBEL The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.

FIRST REBEL Nay more, the King’s Council are no good workmen.

SECOND REBEL 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.

FIRST REBEL Thou hast hit it; for there’s no better sign of a brave mind than a hard hand.

SECOND REBEL I see them! I see them! There’s Best’s son, the tanner of Wingham—

FIRST REBEL He shall have the skins of our enemies to make dog’s leather of. SECOND REBEL And Dick the butcher—

FIRST REBEL Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity’s throat cut like a calf.

SECOND REBEL And Smith the weaver—

FIRST REBEL Argo, their thread of life is spun.

SECOND REBEL Come, come, let’s fall in with them.

Enter Jack Cade, Dick the Butcher, Smith the

Weaver, a sawyer, ⌈and a drummer,⌉ with infinite

numbers, fall with long staves⌉

CADE We, John Cade, so termed of our supposed father—BUTCHER (to his fellows) Or rather of stealing a cade of herrings.

CADE For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the spirit of putting down kings and princes—command silence!

BUTCHER Silence!

CADE My father was a Mortimer—

BUTCHER (to his fellows) He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.

CADE My mother a Plantagenet—

BUTCHER (to his fellows) I knew her well, she was a midwife. CADE My wife descended of the Lacys—

BUTCHER (to his fellows) She was indeed a pedlar’s daughter and sold many laces.

WEAVER (to his fellows) But now of late, not able to travel with her furred pack, she washes bucks here at home. CADE Therefore am I of an honourable house.

BUTCHER (to his fellows) Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable, and there was he born, under a hedge; for his father had never a house but the cage.

CADE Valiant I am—

WEAVER (to his fellows) A must needs, for beggary is valiant.

CADE I am able to endure much—

BUTCHER (to his fellows) No question of that, for I have seen him whipped three market days together.

CADE I fear neither sword nor fire.

WEAVER (to his fellows) He need not fear the sword, for his coat is of proof.

BUTCHER (to his fellows) But methinks he should stand in fear of fire, being burned i’th’ hand for stealing of sheep.

CADE Be brave, then, for your captain is brave and vows reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny, the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops, and I will make it felony to drink small beer. All the realm shall be in common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey go to grass. And when I am king, as king I will be—

ALL CADE’S FOLLOWERS God save your majesty!

CADE I thank you good people!—there shall be no money. All shall eat and drink on my score, and I will apparel them all in one livery that they may agree like brothers, and worship me their lord.

BUTCHER The first thing we do let’s kill all the lawyers.

CADE Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing that of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment? That parchment, being scribbled o‘er, should undo a man? Some say the bee stings, but I say ‘tis the bee’s wax. For I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since. How now? Who’s there? Enter some bringing forth the Clerk of Chatham

WEAVER The Clerk of Chatham—he can write and read and cast account.

CADE O, monstrous!

WEAVER We took him setting of boys’ copies.

CADE Here’s a villain.

WEAVER He’s a book in his pocket with red letters in’t. CADE Nay, then he is a conjuror!

BUTCHER Nay, he can make obligations and write court hand.

CADE I am sorry for’t. The man is a proper man, of mine honour. Unless I find him guilty, he shall not die. Come hither, sirrah, I must examine thee. What is thy name?

CLERK Emmanuel.

BUTCHER They use to write that on the top of letters—‘twill go hard with you.

CADE Let me alone. (To the Clerk) Dost thou use to write thy name? Or hast thou a mark to thyself like an honest plain-dealing man?

CLERK Sir, I thank God I have been so well brought up that I can write my name.

ALL CADE’S FOLLOWERS He hath confessed—away with him He’s a villain and a traitor.

CADE Away with him, I say, hang him with his pen and inkhorn about his neck. Exit one with the Clerk Enter a Messenger

MESSENGER Where’s our general? no CADE Here I am, thou particular fellow.

MESSENGER Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother are hard by with the King’s forces.

CADE Stand, villain, stand—or I’ll fell thee down. He shall be encountered with a man as good as himself. He is but a knight, is a?

MESSENGER No.

CADE To equal him I will make myself a knight presently. He kneels and knights himself

Rise up, Sir John Mortimer. He rises

Now have at him! Enter Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother, with a drummer and soldiers

STAFFORD (to Cade’s followers)

Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,

Marked for the gallows, lay your weapons down;

Home to your cottages, forsake this groom.

The King is merciful, if you revolt.

STAFFORD’S BROTHER (to Cade’s followers)

But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood,

If you go forward. Therefore, yield or die.

CADE (to his followers)

As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not.

It is to you, good people, that I speak,

Over whom, in time to come, I hope to reign—

For I am rightful heir unto the crown.

STAFFORD

Villain, thy father was a plasterer

And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not?

CADE

And Adam was a gardener.

STAFFORD’S BROTHER And what of that?

CADE

Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March,

Married the Duke of Clarence’ daughter, did he not?

STAFFORD Ay, sir.

CADE

By her he had two children at one birth.

STAFFORD’S BROTHER That’s false.

CADE

Ay, there’s the question—but I say ’tis true.

The elder of them, being put to nurse,

Was by a beggar-woman stol’n away,

And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,

Became a bricklayer when he came to age.

His son am I—deny it an you can.

BUTCHER

Nay, ’tis too true—therefore he shall be king.

WEAVER Sir, he made a chimney in my father’s house,

and the bricks are alive at this day to testify. Therefore

deny it not.

STAFFORD (to Cade’s followers)

And will you credit this base drudge’s words

That speaks he knows not what?

ALL CADE’S FOLLOWERS

Ay, marry, will we—therefore get ye gone.

STAFFORD’S BROTHER

Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this.

CADE (aside)

He lies, for I invented it myself.

(Aloud) Go to, sirrah—tell the King from me that for

his father’s sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time boys

went to span-counter for French crowns, I am content

he shall reign; but I’ll be Protector over him.

BUTCHER And, furthermore, we’ll have the Lord Saye’s head for selling the dukedom of Maine.

CADE And good reason, for thereby is England maimed, and fain to go with a staff, but that my puissance holds it up. Fellow-kings, I tell you that that Lord Saye hath gelded the commonwealth, and made it an eunuch, and, more than that, he can speak French, and therefore he is a traitor!

STAFFORD

O gross and miserable ignorance !

CADE Nay, answer if you can: the Frenchmen are our enemies; go to, then, I ask but this—can he that speaks with the tongue of an enemy be a good counsellor or no?

ALL CADE’S FOLLOWERS No, no—and therefore we’ll have his head!

STAFFORD’S BROTHER (to Stafford)

Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,

Assail them with the army of the King.

STAFFORD

Herald, away, and throughout every town

Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;

That those which fly before the battle ends

May, even in their wives’ and children’s sight,

Be hanged up for example at their doors.

And you that be the King’s friends, follow me!

Exeunt ⌈The Staffords and their soldiers⌉

CADE

And you that love the commons, follow me!

Now show yourselves men—’tis for liberty.

We will not leave one lord, one gentleman—

Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon,

For they are thrifty honest men, and such

As would, but that they dare not, take our parts.

BUTCHER They are all in order, and march toward us.

CADE

But then are we in order when we are

Most out of order. Come, march forward! ⌈Exeunt⌉

4.3 Alarums to the fight; ⌈excursions,⌉ wherein both the Staffords are slain. Enter Jack Cade, Dick the Butcher, and the rest

CADE Where’s Dick, the butcher of Ashford?

BUTCHER Here, sir.

CADE They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thou behaved’st thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own slaughterhouse. Therefore, thus will I reward thee—the Lent shall be as long again as it is. Thou shalt have licence to kill for a hundred, lacking one.

BUTCHER I desire no more.

CADE And to speak truth, thou deserv’st no less. ⌈He apparels himself in the Staffords’ armour⌉ This monument of the victory will I bear, and the bodies shall be dragged at my horse heels till I do come to London, where we will have the Mayor’s sword borne before us.

BUTCHER If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the jails and let out the prisoners.

CADE Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let’s march towards London.

Exeunt, ⌈dragging the Staffords’ bodies⌉

4.4 Enter King Henry ⌈reading⌉ a supplication, Queen Margaret carrying Suffolk’s head, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Lord Saye, ⌈with others⌉

QUEEN MARGARET ⌈aside⌉

Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind,

And makes it fearful and degenerate;

Think, therefore, on revenge, and cease to weep.

But who can cease to weep and look on this?

Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast,

But where’s the body that I should embrace?

BUCKINGHAM (to King Henry)

What answer makes your grace to the rebels’ supplication?

KING HENRY

I’ll send some holy bishop to entreat,

For God forbid so many simple souls

Should perish by the sword. And I myself,

Rather than bloody war shall cut them short,

Will parley with Jack Cade their general.

But stay, I’ll read it over once again.

He reads

QUEEN MARGARET (to Suffolk’s head)

Ah, barbarous villains! Hath this lovely face

Ruled like a wandering planet over me,

And could it not enforce them to relent,

That were unworthy to behold the same?

KING HENRY

Lord Saye, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.

SAYE

Ay, but I hope your highness shall have his.

KING HENRY (to Queen Margaret)

How now, madam? Still lamenting and mourning

Suffolk’s death?

I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,

Thou wouldest not have mourned so much for me.

QUEEN MARGARET

No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee. Enter a Messenger, Fin haste⌉

KING HENRY

How now? What news? Why com’st thou in such haste?

MESSENGER

The rebels are in Southwark—fly, my lord!

Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,

Descended from the Duke of Clarence’ house,

And calls your grace usurper, openly,

And vows to crown himself in Westminster.

His army is a ragged multitude

Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless.

Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother’s death

Hath given them heart and courage to proceed.

All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,

They call false caterpillars and intend their death.

KING HENRY

O, graceless men; they know not what they do.

BUCKINGHAM

My gracious lord, retire to Kenilworth

Until a power be raised to put them down.

QUEEN MARGARET

Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive

These Kentish rebels would be soon appeased!

KING HENRY

Lord Saye, the trait’rous rabble hateth thee—

Therefore away with us to Kenilworth.

SAYE

So might your grace’s person be in danger.

The sight of me is odious in their eyes,

And therefore in this city will I stay

And live alone as secret as I may.

Enter another Messenger

SECOND MESSENGER (to King Henry)

Jack Cade hath almost gotten London Bridge;

The citizens fly and forsake their houses;

The rascal people, thirsting after prey,

Join with the traitor; and they jointly swear

To spoil the city and your royal court.

BUCKINGHAM (to King Henry)

Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse!

KING HENRY

Come, Margaret. God, our hope, will succour us.

QUEEN MARGARET ⌈aside⌉

My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased.

KING HENRY (to Saye)

Farewell, my lord. Trust not the Kentish rebels.

BUCKINGHAM (to Saye)

Trust nobody, for fear you be betrayed.

SAYE

The trust I have is in mine innocence,

And therefore am I bold and resolute.

Exeunt ⌈Saye at one door, the rest at another⌉