Richard II: Act 1, Scene 3 Translation

A side-by-side translation of Act 1, Scene 3 of Richard II from the original Shakespeare into modern English.

  Original Text

 Translated Text

  Source: Folger Shakespeare Library

Scene 3

Enter Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aumerle.

MARSHAL
My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?

AUMERLE
Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

MARSHAL
The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,
Stays but the summons of the appellant’s trumpet.

AUMERLE
Why then, the champions are prepared and stay 5
For nothing but his Majesty’s approach.

The trumpets sound and the King enters with his Nobles
and Officers; when they are set, enter Mowbray, the
Duke of Norfolk in arms, defendant, with a Herald.

KING RICHARD
Marshal, demand of yonder champion
The cause of his arrival here in arms,
Ask him his name, and orderly proceed
To swear him in the justice of his cause. 10

The day of the big throwdown (a.k.a. trial by combat) has finally arrived. Everyone gathers at the tournament arena in Coventry. (Psst. Here's what a medieval tournament arena looks like.)

Bolingbroke and Mowbray are all suited up in their armor and ready to throw down.

King Richard arrives and makes a big, red-carpet-worthy entry, complete with trumpet blasts and kneeling subjects. (In case you hadn't noticed, Richard's kind of a diva.)

Richard gives the go-ahead for the trial by combat to begin.

MARSHAL, to Mowbray
In God’s name and the King’s, say who thou art
And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms,
Against what man thou com’st, and what thy quarrel.
Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath,
As so defend thee heaven and thy valor. 15

MOWBRAY
My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
Who hither come engagèd by my oath—
Which God defend a knight should violate!—
Both to defend my loyalty and truth
To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, 20
Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me,
And by the grace of God and this mine arm
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me;
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. 25

The trumpets sound. Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of
Hereford, appellant, in armor, with a Herald.

The Lord Marshal tells Mowbray to explain why he plans to fight.

Mowbray, more or less following the script for a duel, swears an oath to God and the king to prove that he's innocent and Bolingbroke is the one who is a traitor. Then Mowbray asks "heaven" to "defend" him.

Trumpets sound and Bolingbroke appears.

KING RICHARD Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms
Both who he is and why he cometh hither
Thus plated in habiliments of war,
And formally, according to our law,
Depose him in the justice of his cause. 30

MARSHAL, to Bolingbroke
What is thy name? And wherefore com’st thou hither,
Before King Richard in his royal lists?
Against whom comest thou? And what’s thy quarrel?
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven.

BOLINGBROKE
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby 35
Am I, who ready here do stand in arms
To prove, by God’s grace and my body’s valor,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
That he is a traitor foul and dangerous
To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me. 40
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven.

MARSHAL
On pain of death, no person be so bold
Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,
Except the Marshal and such officers
Appointed to direct these fair designs. 45

BOLINGBROKE
Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign’s hand
And bow my knee before his Majesty;
For Mowbray and myself are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage.
Then let us take a ceremonious leave 50
And loving farewell of our several friends.

MARSHAL, to King Richard
The appellant in all duty greets your Highness
And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.

The Lord Marshal asks him to give his name and present his case. He does.

Bolingbroke compares the fight to a pilgrimage (a trip to a holy land) and asks King Richard if he can kiss his hand goodbye.

KING RICHARD, coming down
We will descend and fold him in our arms.
He embraces Bolingbroke.
Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, 55
So be thy fortune in this royal fight.
Farewell, my blood—which, if today thou shed,
Lament we may but not revenge thee dead.

Richard comes down from his shiny, bejeweled throne to hug Bolingbroke. He wishes him luck and says that if he's telling the truth about Mowbray being a traitor, hopefully he'll win the fight. Richard adds that if Henry loses, he'll probably cry for him, but he won't lift a finger to avenge his death.

Brain Snack: We've already explained that a trial by combat was a way for "gentlemen" to settle disputes in medieval England (where the play is set). During the trial, two noblemen would go toe to toe until one died or had to be taken off on a stretcher. The last guy standing was the winner.

Here's something else you should know: in medieval England, people thought that God would make sure that the good guy won the fight and the bad guy lost. That way everyone would know who was lying and who was telling the truth. As a bonus, the guilty party would be punished in the process (by getting the you-know-what beat out of him).

BOLINGBROKE
O, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me if I be gored with Mowbray’s spear. 60
As confident as is the falcon’s flight
Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you.—
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
Not sick, although I have to do with death, 65
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.—
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
O, thou the earthly author of my blood,
Whose youthful spirit in me regenerate 70
Doth with a twofold vigor lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,
Add proof unto mine armor with thy prayers,
And with thy blessings steel my lance’s point
That it may enter Mowbray’s waxen coat 75
And furbish new the name of John o’ Gaunt,
Even in the lusty havior of his son.

GAUNT
God in thy good cause make thee prosperous.
Be swift like lightning in the execution,
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, 80
Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live.

BOLINGBROKE
Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive!

Bolingbroke says not to worry. In Shakespearean trash-talk, he explains that he's like a falcon and Mowbray's like the bird the falcon hunts. Then he says goodbye to his father, "the earthly author of my blood," and asks him to pray for his success.

Gaunt says he hopes he hacks Mowbray's helmet in God's name.

Bolingbroke answers that his innocence and Saint George's will win the day. (FYI – Saint George was the patron saint of England, so Henry's basically trying to make himself England's rep.)

MOWBRAY
However God or fortune cast my lot, 85
There lives or dies, true to King Richard’s throne,
A loyal, just, and upright gentleman.
Never did captive with a freer heart
Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace
His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement 90
More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine adversary.
Most mighty liege and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.
As gentle and as jocund as to jest 95
Go I to fight. Truth hath a quiet breast.

KING RICHARD
Farewell, my lord. Securely I espy
Virtue with valor couchèd in thine eye.—
Order the trial, marshal, and begin.

When it's Mowbray's turn to speak, he says his cause is just and makes fun of Bolingbroke's big, violent speeches: "truth has a quiet breast," he says.

Richard is a little chilly toward Mowbray. He doesn't hug him, but he does say he sees "virtue with valour" in Mowbray's eye.

MARSHAL
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, 100
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right.

He presents a lance to Bolingbroke.

BOLINGBROKE
Strong as a tower in hope, I cry “Amen!”

MARSHAL, to an Officer
Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.

An Officer presents a lance to Mowbray.

FIRST HERALD
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby
Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, 105
On pain to be found false and recreant,
To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king, and him,
And dares him to set forward to the fight.

SECOND HERALD
Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, 110
On pain to be found false and recreant,
Both to defend himself and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby
To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal,
Courageously and with a free desire 115
Attending but the signal to begin.

MARSHAL
Sound, trumpets, and set forward, combatants.

Trumpets sound. Richard throws down his warder.

Stay! The King hath thrown his warder down.

Just as the throwdown is about to start, Richard steps in and is all, "Hold up a minute, guys. I've changed my mind and don't want you two hacking into each other with your swords and staining the earth with your blood."

KING RICHARD
Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
And both return back to their chairs again. 120
To his council. Withdraw with us, and let the
trumpets sound
While we return these dukes what we decree.

Trumpets sound while Richard consults with Gaunt
and other Nobles.

To Bolingbroke and Mowbray. Draw near,
And list what with our council we have done. 125
For that our kingdom’s earth should not be soiled
With that dear blood which it hath fosterèd;
And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plowed up with neighbor’s sword;
And for we think the eagle-wingèd pride 130
Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-hating envy, set on you
To wake our peace, which in our country’s cradle
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep,
Which, so roused up with boist’rous untuned 135
drums,
With harsh resounding trumpets’ dreadful bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
And make us wade even in our kindred’s blood: 140
Therefore we banish you our territories.
You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
Till twice five summers have enriched our fields
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment. 145

BOLINGBROKE
Your will be done. This must my comfort be:
That sun that warms you here shall shine on me,
And those his golden beams to you here lent
Shall point on me and gild my banishment.

KING RICHARD
Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, 150
Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
The sly, slow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exile.
The hopeless word of “never to return”
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. 155

Richard says Mowbray and Bolingbroke need to go back to their chairs and wait for him. He goes off somewhere with his advisors to talk about what should happen next.

When Richard comes back, he announces that he's banishing Mowbray from the kingdom... forever. (Dang. That's what Mowbray gets for being obedient to King Richard?)

Also, he's banishing Bolingbroke from the kingdom for ten years.

MOWBRAY
A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
And all unlooked-for from your Highness’ mouth.
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deservèd at your Highness’ hands. 160
The language I have learnt these forty years,
My native English, now I must forgo;
And now my tongue’s use is to me no more
Than an unstringèd viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up, 165
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue,
Doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips,
And dull unfeeling barren ignorance 170
Is made my jailor to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a pupil now.
What is thy sentence then but speechless death,
Which robs my tongue from breathing native 175
breath?

Mowbray calls this "a heavy sentence" and compares his banishment to being imprisoned, since he doesn't speak any language but English, which won't be any use to him if he's sent to go live in a foreign country.

KING RICHARD
It boots thee not to be compassionate.
After our sentence plaining comes too late.

MOWBRAY
Then thus I turn me from my country’s light,
To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. 180
He begins to exit.

KING RICHARD
Return again, and take an oath with thee.
To Mowbray and Bolingbroke. Lay on our royal
sword your banished hands.

They place their right hands on the hilts of
Richard’s sword.

Swear by the duty that you owe to God—
Our part therein we banish with yourselves— 185
To keep the oath that we administer:
You never shall, so help you truth and God,
Embrace each other’s love in banishment,
Nor never look upon each other’s face,
Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile 190
This louring tempest of your homebred hate,
Nor never by advisèd purpose meet
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill
’Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.

BOLINGBROKE I swear. 195

MOWBRAY And I, to keep all this.

They step back.

Richard tells him it's no use whining – he's made up his mind and wants Mowbray gone ASAP.

Richard tells both Bolingbroke and Mowbray to swear on the king's sword that they won't see each other, write to each other, or communicate ever again. Also, they have to swear that they'll never plot against him while they're banished. (Yeah right.)

BOLINGBROKE
Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:
By this time, had the King permitted us,
One of our souls had wandered in the air,
Banished this frail sepulcher of our flesh, 200
As now our flesh is banished from this land.
Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm.
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

MOWBRAY
No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, 205
My name be blotted from the book of life,
And I from heaven banished as from hence.
But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know,
And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue.—
Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; 210
Save back to England, all the world’s my way.

He exits.

Bolingbroke tries to get Mowbray to fess up. He says he might as well tell the truth, since they're both banished anyway.

Mowbray says if he's a traitor, his name should be crossed out from the book of life (in other words, he would be damned). He adds that he, like God, knows the truth about Bolingbroke. (In other words, nobody's about to admit anything.)

KING RICHARD, to Gaunt
Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
I see thy grievèd heart. Thy sad aspect
Hath from the number of his banished years
Plucked four away. To Bolingbroke. Six frozen 215
winters spent,
Return with welcome home from banishment.

BOLINGBROKE
How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word; such is the breath of kings. 220

Richard notices that John of Gaunt is really bummed out that his kid is getting booted out of the country.

Richard makes what he thinks is a generous offer. He says that since Gaunt has been so loyal and is so old, he'll shorten Bolingbroke's banishment by four years so Henry can come back to England in six years instead of ten.

Bolingbroke makes a smart-aleck crack about how powerful the "breath of kings" can be (since by uttering just a few official words, Richard can seemingly make four years of Henry's life go by in an instant.)

GAUNT
I thank my liege that in regard of me
He shortens four years of my son’s exile.
But little vantage shall I reap thereby;
For, ere the six years that he hath to spend
Can change their moons and bring their times 225
about,
My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light
Shall be extinct with age and endless night;
My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
And blindfold death not let me see my son. 230

KING RICHARD
Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live.

GAUNT
But not a minute, king, that thou canst give.
Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow.
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, 235
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage.
Thy word is current with him for my death,
But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.

Gaunt says Richard's offer is no good. Since he's super old, he'll probably be dead by the time his son gets to come home, even if the banishment is six years instead of ten.

Richard tries to make Gaunt feel better and says something like, "Don't be silly, Gaunt, of course you'll be alive when Henry comes home."

Gaunt's not having it. He points out that kings can shorten other people's lives (by sentencing them to death, etc.) but they can't make people live longer.

KING RICHARD
Thy son is banished upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave. 240
Why at our justice seem’st thou then to lour?

GAUNT
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
You urged me as a judge, but I had rather
You would have bid me argue like a father.
O, had it been a stranger, not my child, 245
To smooth his fault I should have been more mild.
A partial slander sought I to avoid,
And in the sentence my own life destroyed.
Alas, I looked when some of you should say
I was too strict, to make mine own away. 250
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue
Against my will to do myself this wrong.

KING RICHARD, to Bolingbroke
Cousin, farewell.—And, uncle, bid him so.
Six years we banish him, and he shall go.

Flourish. King Richard exits with his Attendants.

Then Richard gets defensive. He says he's shocked to hear Gaunt say all of this, because Gaunt's the one who advised him to banish Bolingbroke and Mowbray in the first place.

Gaunt's all, "Yeah, but when I said that I was hoping you'd step up and say that banishment is too harsh. Plus, you never should have asked me about punishing my own son."

Richard tunes this out and tells Gaunt to say adios to his kid.

AUMERLE, to Bolingbroke
Cousin, farewell. What presence must not know, 255
From where you do remain let paper show.

MARSHAL, to Bolingbroke
My lord, no leave take I, for I will ride,
As far as land will let me, by your side.

GAUNT, to Bolingbroke
O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
That thou returnest no greeting to thy friends? 260

BOLINGBROKE
I have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue’s office should be prodigal
To breathe the abundant dolor of the heart.

GAUNT
Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.

BOLINGBROKE
Joy absent, grief is present for that time. 265

Everyone says goodbye to Bolingbroke.

Bolingbroke is silent.

When Gaunt asks his son why he's being so quiet, Bolingbroke claims he doesn't have the right words to express his pain, so he's just not going to say anything at all.

GAUNT
What is six winters? They are quickly gone.

BOLINGBROKE
To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.

GAUNT
Call it a travel that thou tak’st for pleasure.

BOLINGBROKE
My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
Which finds it an enforcèd pilgrimage. 270

GAUNT
The sullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home return.

BOLINGBROKE
Nay, rather every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me what a deal of world 275
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign passages, and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
But that I was a journeyman to grief? 280

GAUNT
All places that the eye of heaven visits
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy necessity to reason thus:
There is no virtue like necessity.
Think not the King did banish thee, 285
But thou the King. Woe doth the heavier sit
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honor,
And not the King exiled thee; or suppose
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air 290
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com’st.
Suppose the singing birds musicians,
The grass whereon thou tread’st the presence 295
strewed,
The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more
Than a delightful measure or a dance;
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it and sets it light. 300

Gaunt tries to comfort him. He tells him to think of his banishment as an adventure and a place to get "honor." He suggests that Bolingbroke pretend the roles were reversed. (Foreshadowing alert! Get your highlighters out, because this is important.)

BOLINGBROKE
O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow 305
By thinking on fantastic summer’s heat?
O no, the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
Fell sorrow’s tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites but lanceth not the sore. 310

GAUNT
Come, come, my son, I’ll bring thee on thy way.
Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.

BOLINGBROKE
Then, England’s ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu,
My mother and my nurse that bears me yet.
Where’er I wander, boast of this I can, 315
Though banished, yet a trueborn Englishman.

They exit.

Bolingbroke says he's not in the mood to play "let's pretend."

Then Bolingbroke says goodbye to England, and says at least he can say that he's "a trueborn Englishman."