Richard:
Now all of my family’s issues
have ceased, thanks to my brother, King Edward IV. All the threats to the York
family have disappeared and brought new hope. Now our heads are adorned the wreaths
of victory. We’ve rid ourselves of our weapons and hung them up as they are of
no use. Instead of hearing battle calls, we dance at lavish parties. Our faces
are no longer grim due to strife. Instead of riding our horses to strike down
enemies, we entertain our women in their bed chambers, to the sensual songs of
the lute. But I’m not a ladies’ man, nor do I constantly please my eyes with my
own visage in mirrors. I am deformed and don’t have the looks to charm lustful women.
I’ve been robbed of any chance of a pleasing physique and face, or even normal body
parts. I am misshapen, forced out from my mother’s womb to early and so ugly
that dogs bark at me as I hobble by them. I’m left idle in this weak, peacetime,
unless I want to look at my grotesque shadow in the sun and croon about that.
Since I can’t entertain
myself by being a lover, I’ve decided to become a villain. I’ve set risky
schemes into motion, using cunning, drunken prophecies, and made up stories
about dreams to set my brothers against each other. If King Edward is as honest
and impartial as I am devious and vicious, then Clarence is going to be locked
away in prison today because of a prophecy that some non-existent entity named “G”
will murder Edward’s children. Oh, time to keep quiet—here comes Clarence
himself.
(Clarence enters surrounded by guards and Brakenbury)
Good afternoon brother, why are surrounded by armed
guards?
Clarence:
His majesty is so worried for my well being, he has
ordered them to ‘escort’ me to the Tower.
Richard:
He’s arresting you? Why?
Clarence:
Because my name is George.
Richard:
That’s not your fault! He should imprison who named you
on that reasoning. Maybe the King is sending you to the Tower to have you
renamed. But, really, what’s going on, Clarence? Can you at least tell me that?
Clarence:
I’ll tell you as soon as I actually know something,
Richard, because at this point I have not even the foggiest. All I’ve been able
to find out is that our brother the king has been heeding to the words of
prophecies and visions. He picked out the letter “G” from the alphabet and said
a wizard told him that “G” will steal his children’s throne. He thinks “G” is
me. I’ve learned that because of this, along with other idiotic reasons like
it, is why the king is sending me to prison.
Richard:
Well, this is what happens when men let themselves be governed
by the whims of their women. The king isn’t the one responsible for sending you
to the Tower, Clarence. It’s his wife, Lady Grey, who convinced him to do this.
Remember how she and her brother, Anthony Woodeville, made him send Lord
Hastings to the Tower? Hastings was just released. We’re not safe, Clarence,
we’re not safe.
Clarence:
By God, I think the only people who are safe are the
queen’s own family and the late-night runners the king uses to bring his
mistress, Mistress Shore. Did you hear how Lord Hastings had to grovel before the
queen to be freed?
Richard:
Hastings got his freedom by begging to that false idol.
And I’ll tell you what. If we want to gain favour with the king, we’re going
have to act like the mistress’s retainers. Ever since our brother made them
gentlewomen, Mistress Shore and the queen have become mighty pests in our
kingdom.
Brakenbury:
I beg your pardon, my lords, but the king gave me orders
that no one, however high up in the hierarchy, should speak privately to
Clarence.
Richard:
Alright. If you want to, Brakenbury, you can listen in on
the conversation. We’re not plotting anything treasonous, man. We’re simply saying
the king is wise and respectable, and his noble queen is getting old, appealing,
and not jealous. And that Shore’s wife has nice feet, cherry lips, pretty eyes,
and a very ‘pleasing’ way of expressing herself. And, finally, that the queen’s
kin have all been elevated in social status. What do you think? Is there anything
wrong with what we have to say?
Brakenbury:
I have nothing to do with what you’re speaking of, my
lord.
Richard:
“Nothing to do” with Lady Shore! I’m telling you, sir,
there’s only one man who gets to do “nothing,” with her and not be penalized
for it. Everyone else had better keep their “nothings” to themselves.
Brakenbury:
Who would that be? My lord.
Richard:
Her husband, of course, you’re going to get me in
trouble.
Brakenbury:
I request, your highness to pardon me, could you please
stop talking to Clarence.
Clarence:
We know you’ve got work to do Brakenbury, we’ll be done
now.
Richard:
We have to serve he queen don’t we? Goodbye brother. I
will confront my brother and do what you wish, even call his wife “sister” to
get you your freedom. Keep in my, I am quite enraged about how our own brother
has treated you, more enraged than you can possibly comprehend.
Clarence:
It doesn’t make me happy either.
Richard:
Your imprisonment will be short-lived; I will either rick
my brother into releasing you. Or replace you in that cell, be patient.
Clarence:
I don’t have a choice. Goodbye.
(Clarence, Brakenbury and
the guards leave)
Richard:
Go walk the road that leads to no return. Foolish and trustworthy
Clarence. I ‘love’ you so much that I’ll send your soul to heaven if heaven
will accept anything that I give, that is. But who’s that? The recently released Hastings?
(Hastings
enters)
Hastings;
Good evening, my good lord!
Richard:
Likewise my lord! Welcome back to open air. How did you
deal with prison?
Hastings:
With patience, noble lord, after all I was a prisoner.
But I can show my gratitude to those who sent me.
Richard:
I’m sure, I’m sure. Clarence will to. You share common
enemies and they have an advantage over you two.
Hastings;
It’s a shame that we the eagles are caged, while the
vultures do whatever they see fit.
Richard:
Any new information from abroad?
Hastings;
No information as worse as what we have home. The king is
ill, weak and depressed, the doctors fear for his life.
Richard:
Now, by George, that’s horrible news. The king has abused
his body with bad habits for too long, and it’s finally taking its toll on him,
how depressing. Where is he, bedridden?
Hastings;
Yes.
Richard:
Go I will follow you.
(Hastings exits)
WHAT IS THIS?
ReplyDeleteHaha I wasn't sure on what she meant by paraphrase but now I know.
DeleteVery interesting approach to translating the scene Jaron. Makes following it easy as it is in conversation form. Not sure if Mrs.Buffonge was looking for something like this but the scene was indeed made clear with your approach.
ReplyDeleteThank you, I'm thinking of doing it over.
Delete