Original Text |
Translated Text |
| Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
|
Alarum. Offstage fight at sea. Ordnance goes off.
Enter Lieutenant, Suffolk, captive and in disguise,
and Others, including a Master, a Master’s Mate,
Walter Whitmore, and Prisoners. LIEUTENANT
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 5
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, 10
Or with their blood stain this discolored shore.—
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee.—
And, thou that art his mate, make boot of this.—
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share. Three gentlemen prisoners, including Suffolk,
are handed over. | Take cover: we're on a ship at sea that's under attack. A lieutenant fills us in on the deets: basically, things on this ship aren't looking so hot right now. The lieutenant decides to divvy the prisoners up amongst himself and other masters on the ship. Some will be pardoned, others ransomed, and some select few executed. Suffolk is on the ship, disguised, and he is given to a man named Whitmore, who will kill him. |
FIRST GENTLEMAN
What is my ransom, master? Let me know. 15 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. LIEUTENANT
What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port of gentlemen?—
Cut both the villains’ throats—for die you shall; 20
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpoised with such a petty sum! FIRST GENTLEMAN
I’ll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life. SECOND GENTLEMAN
And so will I, and write home for it straight. WHITMORE, to Suffolk
I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, 25
And therefore to revenge it shalt thou die;
And so should these, if I might have my will. LIEUTENANT
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. 30 WHITMORE
And so am I. My name is Walter Whitmore. Suffolk starts. How now, why starts thou? What, doth death
affright? SUFFOLK
Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
A cunning man did calculate my birth 35
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 dishonor blur our name 40
But with our sword we wiped away the blot.
Therefore, when merchantlike 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, 45
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole. | Since it was prophesied that he would die by water, we're not thinking his odds look too good. Naturally Suffolk starts chit-chatting with Whitmore. As you do. After some back and forth about whether he's afraid of death, Suffolk reveals who he is. |
WHITMORE
The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags? SUFFOLK
Ay, but these rags are no part of the Duke.
Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I? LIEUTENANT
But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. 50 SUFFOLK
Obscure and lousy swain, King Henry’s blood,
The honorable blood of Lancaster,
Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
Hast thou not kissed thy hand and held my stirrup?
Bareheaded plodded by my footcloth mule, 55
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, 60
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. 65 WHITMORE
Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain? LIEUTENANT
First let my words stab him as he hath me. SUFFOLK
Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou. LIEUTENANT
Convey him hence, and on our longboat’s side,
Strike off his head. 70 | Not only that, but Suffolk says he's too important and high-class to die at the hand of such lowlifes as themselves. At least he hasn't lost his edge. |
SUFFOLK Thou dar’st not for thy own. LIEUTENANT
Yes, Pole. SUFFOLK Pole! LIEUTENANT Pole! Sir Pole! Lord!
Ay, kennel, puddle, sink, whose filth and dirt 75
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, 80
And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey’s
death
Against the senseless winds shall grin in vain,
Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again.
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell 85
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 90
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, 95
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 100
By shameful murder of a guiltless king
And lofty, proud, encroaching tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colors
Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ “Invitis nubibus.” 105
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. | The lieutenant isn't buying it: he says Suffolk should be ashamed of
himself for kissing the queen, smiling at Gloucester's death, losing
lands in France, and calculating against a guiltless king. Bam. He
orders for Suffolk to be beheaded. |
SUFFOLK
O, that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder 110
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. 115
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.
I go of message from the Queen to France. 120
I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel. LIEUTENANT Walter. WHITMORE
Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death. SUFFOLK
Paene gelidus timor occupat artus.
It is thee I fear. 125 WHITMORE
Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
What, are you daunted now? Now will you stoop? FIRST GENTLEMAN
My gracious lord, entreat him; speak him fair. SUFFOLK
Suffolk’s imperial tongue is stern and rough,
Used to command, untaught to plead for favor. 130
Far be it we should honor 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 135
Than stand uncovered to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear.—
More can I bear than you dare execute. LIEUTENANT
Hale him away, and let him talk no more. SUFFOLK
Come, soldiers, show what cruelty you can, 140
That this my death may never be forgot!
Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
A Roman sworder and banditto slave
Murdered sweet Tully; Brutus’ bastard hand
Stabbed Julius Caesar; savage islanders 145
Pompey the Great, and Suffolk dies by pirates. Walter Whitmore exits with
Suffolk and Others. | Again, Suffolk insists that he is too good for that. But his pleas are in vain: Whitmore is instructed to kill Suffolk. Suffolk asks to be allowed to send a message to the queen, and he tells us that he won't beg for his life. Sometimes nobles die at the hands of commoners, and he's not one to get all scared about it. He's escorted off stage by soldiers. |
LIEUTENANT
And as for these whose ransom we have set,
It is our pleasure one of them depart.
To Second Gentleman. Therefore come you with us,
and let him go. Lieutenant and the rest exit. 150 The First Gentleman remains. Enter Walter Whitmore with the body
and severed head of Suffolk. WHITMORE
There let his head and lifeless body lie,
Until the Queen his mistress bury it. Walter Whitmore exits. FIRST GENTLEMAN
O, barbarous and bloody spectacle!
His body will I bear unto the King.
If he revenge it not, yet will his friends. 155
So will the Queen, that living held him dear. He exits with the head and body. | Moments later, Whitmore returns with Suffolk's head. Whitmore is happy to let the body rot in the ground, but one of the crew decides to take the body to the king. |