Original: A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them?
Modern: A curse on them! But wait, why should I even bother cursing them?

Original: Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s groan,
Modern: If curses could kill people, like the legendary scream of the mandrake root,

Original: I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
Modern: I would create the most painfully cutting insults,

Original: As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
Modern: As cursed, as cruel and as terrible to listen to,

Original: Deliver’d strongly through my fixed teeth,
Modern: Spoken forcefully through my clenched teeth,

Original: With full as many signs of deadly hate,
Modern: With every possible sign of murderous hatred,

Original: As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave:
Modern: Like the gaunt face of Envy herself in her disgusting cave:

Original: My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;
Modern: My tongue would trip over itself in my passionate rage;

Original: Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
Modern: My eyes would spark like stones striking together to make fire;

Original: Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract;
Modern: My hair would stand straight up, like someone driven mad;

Original: Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
Modern: Yes, every part of my body would seem to curse and condemn:

Original: And even now my burthen’d heart would break,
Modern: And right now my heavy, burdened heart would break,

Original: Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
Modern: If I didn’t curse them. Let poison be their drink!

Original: Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
Modern: Bitterness, worse than the worst bitterness, be the finest thing they taste!

Original: Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!
Modern: Let their most pleasant shade be a grove of funeral trees!

Original: Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks!
Modern: Let their best view be of deadly mythical serpents whose gaze kills!

Original: Their softest touch as smart as lizards’ sting!
Modern: Let their gentlest touch sting as painfully as a lizard’s bite!

Original: Their music frightful as the serpent’s hiss,
Modern: Let their music be as terrifying as a snake’s hiss,

Original: And boding screech-owls make the concert full!
Modern: And let ominous screech-owls complete their horrible symphony!

Original: All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell—
Modern: Let all the disgusting horrors from the depths of hell—

In Act III, Scene ii of Henry VI, Part 2, the scene opens in the aftermath of the murder of the Duke of Gloucester. King Henry VI is informed that Gloucester has been found dead in his bed, and the news causes the King to fall into a grief-stricken swoon. Queen Margaret, Cardinal Beaufort, the Duke of Suffolk, and others are present, and suspicion quickly begins to swirl around those who had opposed Gloucester. When Henry recovers, he is overwhelmed with sorrow and anger, lamenting the loss of his most loyal protector. The commons, gathering outside, cry out for justice, and their anger is directed particularly at Suffolk, whom they suspect of orchestrating Gloucester’s death. Warwick enters and reports that the signs on Gloucester’s body suggest he was murdered rather than having died of natural causes, further inflaming the situation.

As the scene continues, the fury of the commons grows so intense that King Henry, unable to protect Suffolk from the mob’s wrath, is compelled to banish him from England. Suffolk and Queen Margaret share a deeply emotional farewell, as their close relationship — strongly implied to be a romantic one — makes the parting an agonizing one for both of them. Meanwhile, a messenger arrives to report that Cardinal Beaufort has fallen gravely ill and is in a disturbed, fearful state, seemingly haunted on his deathbed. King Henry goes to attend the Cardinal, leaving the stage with a sense of dread and foreboding hanging over the court as multiple threads of treachery, grief, and consequence converge in the scene’s closing moments.

Henry VI, Part II opens with King Henry VI’s marriage to Margaret of Anjou, which was arranged as part of a peace treaty with France. The marriage proves politically disastrous, as Henry has agreed to surrender Maine and Anjou to France and provide no dowry, angering the English nobles. The Duke of Gloucester, Henry’s uncle and Lord Protector, opposes the marriage terms, while Cardinal Beaufort and the Duke of Suffolk, who arranged the marriage, work to undermine Gloucester’s influence. Queen Margaret quickly emerges as an ambitious figure who resents Gloucester’s power and begins plotting against him alongside Suffolk and other nobles.

The central conflict develops around the destruction of Gloucester, known as “Good Duke Humphrey.” Through a series of machinations involving his wife Eleanor’s involvement with conjurers and fortune-tellers, Gloucester is stripped of his position as Lord Protector. Eleanor is banished after being convicted of witchcraft, leaving Gloucester vulnerable. Margaret, Suffolk, Cardinal Beaufort, and others conspire to have Gloucester arrested on charges of treason. Before he can defend himself in trial, Gloucester is murdered in his bed, likely on Suffolk’s orders, shocking King Henry and the common people who loved Gloucester.

The aftermath of Gloucester’s murder destabilizes the realm further. Suffolk is banished by Henry after popular outcry against him, but he is captured and killed by pirates during his exile. Cardinal Beaufort dies tormented by guilt over Gloucester’s death. Meanwhile, Jack Cade leads a popular rebellion in Kent, claiming to be John Mortimer and demanding justice for the common people. Cade’s forces march on London, causing chaos and executing several nobles and officials before the rebellion is eventually suppressed. The play concludes with the return of Richard, Duke of York, from Ireland with an army, ostensibly to remove the remaining “traitors” around the king but actually to press his own claim to the throne, setting the stage for the Wars of the Roses that will dominate the final play in the trilogy.