The Tragedy of King Richard the Second
2Enter King Richard, John 3of Gaunt, [and lord Marshal], with other nobles and attendants. 1.1.45Old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster,
1.1.56Hast thou, according to thy oath and bond,
1.1.67Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son,
1.1.78Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal,
1.1.89Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
1.1.910Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
I have, my liege.
Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him
1.1.1213If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice,
1.1.1314Or worthily, as a good subject should,
1.1.1415On some known ground of treachery in him?
As near as I could sift him on that argument,
1.1.1617On some apparent danger seen in him
1.1.1718Aimed at your highness; no inveterate malice.
Then call them to our presence.
[Exit one or more attendants.]
Then call them to our presence. Face to face,
1.1.1920And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
1.1.2021The accuser and the accusèd freely speak.
1.1.2122High-stomached are they both and full of ire,
1.1.2223In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
24Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray [with attendants]. Many years of happy days befall
1.1.2426My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
Each day still better other's happiness,
1.1.2628Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
1.1.2729Add an immortal title to your crown!
We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us,
1.1.2931As well appeareth by the cause you come,
1.1.3032Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. --
1.1.3133Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
1.1.3234Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
First -- heaven be the record to my speech! --
1.1.3436In the devotion of a subject's love,
1.1.3537Tend'ring the precious safety of my prince,
1.1.3638And free from other misbegotten hate,
1.1.3739Come I appellant to this princely presence. --
1.1.3840Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
1.1.3941And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
1.1.4042My body shall make good upon this earth,
1.1.4143Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
1.1.4244Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
1.1.4345Too good to be so, and too bad to live,
1.1.4446Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
1.1.4547The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
1.1.4648Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
1.1.4749With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat,
1.1.4850And wish -- so please my sovereign -- ere I move,
1.1.4951What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword may prove.
Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal.
1.1.5153'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,
1.1.5254The bitter clamor of two eager tongues,
1.1.5355Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain.
1.1.5456The blood is hot that must be cooled for this.
1.1.5557Yet can I not of such tame patience boast
1.1.5658As to be hushed and naught at all to say.
1.1.5759First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me
1.1.5860From giving reins and spurs to my free speech,
1.1.5961Which else would post until it had returned
1.1.6062These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
1.1.6163Setting aside his high blood's royalty,
1.1.6264And let him be no kinsman to my liege,
1.1.6365I do defy him, and I spit at him,
1.1.6466Call him a slanderous coward and a villain;
1.1.6567Which to maintain, I would allow him odds
1.1.6668And meet him, were I tied to run afoot
1.1.6769Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
1.1.6870Or any other ground inhabitable,
1.1.6971Wherever Englishman durst set his foot.
1.1.7072Meantime, let this defend my loyalty:
1.1.7173By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.
1.1.7274Bolingbroke [Throwing down his gage] Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,
1.1.7375Disclaiming here the kindred of the King,
1.1.7476And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
1.1.7577Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.
1.1.7678If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
1.1.7779As to take up mine honor's pawn, then stoop.
1.1.7880By that and all the rites of knighthood else
1.1.7981Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
1.1.8082What I have spoke or thou canst worse devise.
[Taking up the gage] I take it up; and by that sword I swear
1.1.8284Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,
1.1.8385I'll answer thee in any fair degree
1.1.8486Or chivalrous design of knightly trial.
1.1.8587And when I mount, alive may I not light
1.1.8688If I be traitor or unjustly fight!
[To Bolingbroke] What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?
1.1.8890It must be great that can inherit us
1.1.8991So much as of a thought of ill in him.
Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true:
1.1.9193That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles
1.1.9294In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,
1.1.9395The which he hath detained for lewd employments,
1.1.9496Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
1.1.9597Besides I say, and will in battle prove,
1.1.9698Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge
1.1.9799That ever was surveyed by English eye,
1.1.98100That all the treasons for these eighteen years
1.1.99101Complotted and contrivèd in this land
1.1.100102Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
1.1.101103Further I say, and further will maintain
1.1.102104Upon his bad life to make all this good,
1.1.103105That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,
1.1.105107And consequently, like a traitor coward,
1.1.106108Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood;
1.1.107109Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries
1.1.108110Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth
1.1.109111To me for justice and rough chastisement.
1.1.110112And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
1.1.111113This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.
How high a pitch his resolution soars! --
1.1.113115Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
Oh, let my sovereign turn away his face
1.1.115117And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
1.1.116118Till I have told this slander of his blood
1.1.117119How God and good men hate so foul a liar!
Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears.
1.1.119121Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
1.1.122124Such neighbor nearness to our sacred blood
1.1.123125Should nothing privilege him nor partialize
1.1.124126The unstooping firmness of my upright soul.
1.1.125127He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou.
1.1.126128Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.
Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart
1.1.128130Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.
1.1.129131Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais
1.1.130132Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers;
1.1.132134For that my sovereign liege was in my debt
1.1.134136Since last I went to France to fetch his queen.
1.1.135137Now swallow down that lie! For Gloucester's death,
1.1.137139Neglected my sworn duty in that case. --
1.1.141143A trespass that doth vex my grievèd soul;
1.1.144146Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. --
1.1.145147This is my fault. As for the rest appealed,
1.1.147149A recreant, and most degenerate traitor,
[He throws down his gage.]
1.1.152154Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom;
[Bolingbroke picks up the gage.]
Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me.
1.1.156158Let's purge this choler without letting blood.
1.1.159161Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed.
1.1.160162Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. --
1.1.161163Good uncle, let this end where it begun.
1.1.162164We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.
To be a make-peace shall become my age. --
1.1.164166Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
And, Norfolk, throw down his.
And, Norfolk, throw down his. When, Harry, when?
Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot.
Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot.
[He kneels.]
1.1.170173My life thou shalt command, but not my shame.
1.1.172175Despite of death that lives upon my grave,
1.1.173176To dark dishonor's use thou shalt not have.
1.1.174177I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here,
1.1.175178Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear,
1.1.176179The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood
Which breathed this poison. Rage must be withstood.
[He holds out his hand.]
1.1.179182Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame.
Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame,
1.1.181184And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,
1.1.184187Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
1.1.187190Mine honor is my life; both grow in one.
1.1.188191Take honor from me, and my life is done.
1.1.189192Then, dear my liege, mine honor let me try.
1.1.190193In that I live, and for that will I die.
[To Bolingbroke] Cousin, throw up your gage. Do you begin.
O God defend my soul from such deep sin!
1.1.193197Shall I seem crestfallen in my father's sight?
1.1.194198Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
1.1.195199Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue
1.1.196200Shall wound my honor with such feeble wrong,
1.1.197201Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
1.1.199203And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
1.1.200204Where shame doth harbor, even in Mowbray's face.
[Exit Gaunt.]
We were not born to sue, but to command;
1.1.202207Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
1.1.205210There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
1.1.206211The swelling difference of your settled hate.
1.1.208213Justice design the victor's chivalry. --
1.1.209214Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms
215Be ready to direct these home alarms.
[Exeunt].
Enter John of Gaunt with the Duchess of Gloucester.
Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood
1.2.2219Doth more solicit me than your exclaims
1.2.3220To stir against the butchers of his life.
1.2.4221But since correction lieth in those hands
1.2.5222Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
1.2.6223Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven,
1.2.7224Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
1.2.8225Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
1.2.10227Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
1.2.11228Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
1.2.12229Were as seven vials of his sacred blood,
1.2.13230Or seven fair branches springing from one root.
1.2.14231Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,
1.2.15232Some of those branches by the Destinies cut;
1.2.16233But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,
1.2.17234One vial full of Edward's sacred blood,
1.2.18235One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
1.2.19236Is cracked, and all the precious liquor spilt,
1.2.20237Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all faded
1.2.21238By envy's hand and murder's bloody ax.
1.2.22239Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that womb,
1.2.23240That mettle, that self mold that fashioned thee
1.2.24241Made him a man; and though thou liv'st and breath'st,
1.2.25242Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent
1.2.26243In some large measure to thy father's death
1.2.27244In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
1.2.28245Who was the model of thy father's life.
1.2.29246Call it not patience, Gaunt. It is despair.
1.2.30247In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered,
1.2.31248Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,
1.2.32249Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.
1.2.33250That which in mean men we entitle patience
1.2.34251Is pale, cold cowardice in noble breasts.
1.2.35252What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life,
1.2.36253The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.
God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
1.2.39256Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully
1.2.40257Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift
Where then, alas, may I complain myself?
To God, the widow's champion and defense.
Why then I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
1.2.45262Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold
1.2.46263Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
1.2.47264Oh, set my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,
1.2.48265That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
1.2.49266Or if misfortune miss the first career,
1.2.50267Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom
1.2.51268That they may break his foaming courser's back
1.2.52269And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
1.2.53270A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
1.2.54271Farewell, old Gaunt. Thy sometime brother's wife,
1.2.55272With her companion, grief, must end her life.
[She starts to leave.]
Sister, farewell. I must to Coventry.
1.2.57274As much good stay with thee as go with me.
[He starts to leave.]
Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls,
1.2.59276Not with the empty hollowness, but weight.
1.2.60277I take my leave before I have begun,
1.2.61278For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
1.2.62279Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.
1.2.63280Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so!
1.2.64281Though this be all, do not so quickly go.
1.2.65282I shall remember more. Bid him -- ah, what? --
1.2.66283With all good speed at Pleshy visit me,
1.2.67284Alack, and what shall good old York there see
1.2.68285But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls,
1.2.69286Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
1.2.70287And what hear there for welcome but my groans?
1.2.71288Therefore commend me; let him not come there
1.2.72289To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere.
1.2.73290Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die.
291The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.
Exeunt. Enter lord Marshal and the Duke [of] Aumerle.
My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?
Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.
The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,
1.3.4297Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet.
Why then, the champions are prepared, and stay
1.3.6299For nothing but his majesty's approach.
1.3.7300The trumpets sound and King [Richard] enters with his nobles, [Gaunt, Bushy, Bagot, Green, and others]. 301When they are set, enter [Mowbray,] Duke of Norfolk, in arms, defendant, [with a Herald]. Marshal, demand of yonder champion
1.3.9304The cause of his arrival here in arms,
1.3.10305Ask him his name, and orderly proceed
1.3.11306To swear him in the justice of his cause.
[To Mowbray] In God's name and the King's, say who thou art
1.3.13308And why thou com'st thus knightly clad in arms,
1.3.14309Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel.
1.3.15310Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath,
1.3.16311As so defend thee heaven and thy valor!
My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
1.3.18313Who hither come engagèd by my oath --
1.3.19314Which God defend a knight should violate! --
1.3.21316To God, my king, and my succeeding issue,
1.3.22317Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me,
1.3.23318And by the grace of God and this mine arm
1.3.24319To prove him, in defending of myself,
1.3.25320A traitor to my God, my king, and me;
1.3.26321And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
[He sits.]
322 The trumpets sound. Enter [Bolingbroke,] Duke of Hereford, 322.1appellant, in armor, [with a Herald]. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms
1.3.28324Both who he is and why he cometh hither
1.3.31327Depose him in the justice of his cause.
[To Bolingbroke] What is thy name? And wherefore com'st thou hither,
1.3.33329Before King Richard in his royal lists?
1.3.34330Against whom com'st thou? And what's thy quarrel?
1.3.35331Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby
1.3.37333Am I, who ready here do stand in arms
1.3.38334To prove, by God's grace and my body's valor,
1.3.39335In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
1.3.40336That he is a traitor foul and dangerous
1.3.41337To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me.
1.3.42338And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
[He sits.]
On pain of death, no person be so bold
1.3.44340Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,
1.3.45341Except the Marshal and such officers
1.3.46342Appointed to direct these fair designs.
[Standing] Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand
1.3.49345For Mowbray and myself are like two men
1.3.50346That vow a long and weary pilgrimage.
1.3.51347Then let us take a ceremonious leave
1.3.52348And loving farewell of our several friends.
[To King Richard] The appellant in all duty greets your highness,
1.3.54350And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.
We will descend and fold him in our arms.
[He descends from his seat and embraces Bolingbroke.]
1.3.56352Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
1.3.57353So be thy fortune in this royal fight.
1.3.58354Farewell, my blood, which if today thou shed,
1.3.59355Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear
1.3.61357For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear.
1.3.62358As confident as is the falcon's flight
1.3.63359Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight. --
1.3.64360[To lord Marshal] My loving lord, I take my leave of you. --
1.3.65361[To Aumerle] Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle;
1.3.66362Not sick, although I have to do with death,
1.3.67363But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. --
1.3.68364Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
1.3.69365The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
1.3.70366[To Gaunt, kneeling] O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
1.3.71367Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
1.3.72368Doth with a twofold vigor lift me up
1.3.74370Add proof unto mine armor with thy prayers,
1.3.75371And with thy blessings steel my lance's point
1.3.76372That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat
1.3.77373And furbish new the name of John o'Gaunt,
1.3.78374Even in the lusty havior of his son.
God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
1.3.80376Be swift like lightning in the execution,
1.3.81377And let thy blows, doubly redoublèd,
1.3.82378Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
1.3.84380Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live.
[Standing] Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive!
[Standing] However God or Fortune cast my lot,
1.3.87383There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,
1.3.88384A loyal, just, and upright gentleman.
1.3.89385Never did captive with a freer heart
1.3.90386Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace
1.3.91387His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement
1.3.92388More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
1.3.93389This feast of battle with mine adversary.
1.3.94390Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
1.3.95391Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.
1.3.97393Go I to fight. Truth hath a quiet breast.
Farewell, my lord. Securely I espy
1.3.99395Virtue with valor couchèd in thine eye. --
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
1.3.102398Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
[An attendant bears a lance to Bolingbroke.]
Strong as a tower in hope, I cry "Amen!"
[To the attendant] Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.
[The attendant bears a lance to Mowbray.]
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby
1.3.106402Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,
1.3.108404To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
1.3.109405A traitor to his God, his king, and him,
1.3.110406And dares him to set forward to the fight.
Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
1.3.115411To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal,
Sound trumpets, and set forward combatants.
[A charge is sounded.]
[King Richard throws down his warder.]
1.3.119415Stay! The King hath thrown his warder down.
Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
1.3.121417And both return back to their chairs again.
[Bolingbroke and Mowbray disarm and sit.]
1.3.122418[To his council] Withdraw with us, and let the trumpets sound
1.3.123419While we return these dukes what we decree.
[A long flourish, during which King Richard and his council withdraw to confer then come forward. King Richard addresses Bolingbroke and Mowbray.]
1.3.125422And list what with our council we have done.
1.3.126423For that our kingdom's earth should not be soiled
1.3.127424With that dear blood which it hath fosterèd:
1.3.128425And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
1.3.129426Of civil wounds plowed up with neighbor's sword;
1.3.133426.4To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
1.3.135427Which so roused up with boist'rous untuned drums,
1.3.136428With harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray
1.3.137429And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
1.3.138430Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
1.3.139431And make us wade even in our kindred's blood:
1.3.140432Therefore we banish you our territories. --
1.3.141433You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
1.3.142434Till twice five summers have enriched our fields,
1.3.144436But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
Your will be done. This must my comfort be:
1.3.146438That sun that warms you here shall shine on me,
1.3.147439And those his golden beams to you here lent
1.3.148440Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,
1.3.150442Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
1.3.151443The sly, slow hours shall not determinate
1.3.154446Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
1.3.156448And all unlooked-for from your highness' mouth.
1.3.159451Have I deservèd at your highness' hands.
1.3.160452The language I have learnt these forty years,
1.3.162454And now my tongue's use is to me no more
1.3.166458That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
1.3.167459Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue,
1.3.168460Doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips,
1.3.173465What is thy sentence then but speechless death,
1.3.174466Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
It boots thee not to be compassionate.
1.3.176468After our sentence, plaining comes too late.
Then thus I turn me from my country's light,
1.3.178470To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
[He begins to exit.]
[To Mowbray] Return again, and take an oath with thee.
1.3.180472[To Mowbray and Bolingbroke] Lay on our royal sword your banished hands.
[They place their right hands on the hilts of King Richard's sword.]
1.3.181473Swear by the duty that you owe to God --
1.3.182474Our part therein we banish with yourselves --
1.3.184476You never shall, so help you truth and God,
1.3.185477Embrace each other's love in banishment,
1.3.188480This louring tempest of your home-bred hate,
1.3.191483'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
I swear.
I swear. And I, to keep all this.
[They step back.]
Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:
1.3.195487By this time, had the King permitted us,
1.3.196488One of our souls had wandered in the air,
1.3.197489Banished this frail sepulcher of our flesh,
1.3.198490As now our flesh is banished from this land.
1.3.199491Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm.
1.3.200492Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
No, Bolingbroke, if ever I were traitor,
1.3.203495My name be blotted from the book of life,
1.3.204496And I from heaven banished as from hence!
1.3.205497But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know;
1.3.206498And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue. --
1.3.207499Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray;
500Save back to England, all the world's my way.
Exit.
[To Gaunt] Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
1.3.210503Hath from the number of his banished years
1.3.211504Plucked four away.
[To Bolingbroke] Six frozen winters spent,
1.3.212505Return with welcome home from banishment.
How long a time lies in one little word!
1.3.214507Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
1.3.215508End in a word: such is the breath of kings.
I thank my liege that in regard of me
1.3.217510He shortens four years of my son's exile.
1.3.218511But little vantage shall I reap thereby,
1.3.219512For ere the six years that he hath to spend
1.3.220513Can change their moons and bring their times about,
1.3.221514My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light
1.3.222515Shall be extinct with age and endless night.
1.3.223516My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
1.3.224517And blindfold death not let me see my son.
Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live.
But not a minute, King, that thou canst give.
1.3.227520Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
1.3.228521And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow.
1.3.229522Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
1.3.231524Thy word is current with him for my death,
1.3.232525But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
Thy son is banished upon good advice,
1.3.234527Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave.
1.3.235528Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
1.3.237530You urged me as a judge, but I had rather
1.3.238531You would have bid me argue like a father.
1.3.240531.2To smooth his fault I should have been more mild.
1.3.243532Alas, I looked when some of you should say
1.3.245534But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue
1.3.246535Against my will to do myself this wrong.
[To Bolingbroke] Cousin, farewell. -- And, uncle, bid him so.
1.3.248537Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
[Flourish]. Exit [King Richard with his train]. [Aumerle, lord Marshal, Gaunt and Bolingbroke remain.]
[To Bolingbroke] Cousin, farewell. What presence must not know,
1.3.250540From where you do remain let paper show.
[Exit.] [To Bolingbroke] My lord, no leave take I, for I will ride,
1.3.252542As far as land will let me, by your side.
[Bolingbroke remains silent. Lord Marshal draws away.]
Oh, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
1.3.254544That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
I have too few to take my leave of you,
1.3.256546When the tongue's office should be prodigal
1.3.257547To breathe the abundant dolor of the heart.
Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
What is six winters? They are quickly gone.
To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure.
My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
The sullen passage of thy weary steps
Nay, rather every tedious stride I make
All places that the eye of heaven visits
1.3.289557.22The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strewed,
Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand
1.3.301565Gives but the greater feeling to the worse.
1.3.302566Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
1.3.303567Than when he bites but lanceth not the sore.
Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way.
1.3.305569Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
Then, England's ground, farewell! Sweet soil, adieu,
1.3.307571My mother and my nurse that bears me yet!
573Though banished, yet a trueborn Englishman.
Exeunt [Gaunt and Bolingbroke, followed by lord Marshal]. Enter King [Richard] with [Bagot, Green,] etc. at one door, and the
Lord Aumerle at another.
We did observe. -- Cousin Aumerle,
1.4.3577How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,
1.4.5579But to the next highway, and there I left him.
And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
Faith, none for me, except the northeast wind,
1.4.8582Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
1.4.9583Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
1.4.10584Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
What said our cousin when you parted with him?
And, for my heart disdainèd that my tongue
1.4.13587Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
1.4.14588To counterfeit oppression of such grief
1.4.15589That words seemed buried in my sorrow's grave.
1.4.16590Marry, would the word "farewell" have lengthened hours
1.4.17591And added years to his short banishment,
1.4.18592He should have had a volume of farewells;
1.4.19593But since it would not, he had none of me.
He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
1.4.21595When time shall call him home from banishment,
1.4.22596Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
1.4.23597Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green
1.4.24598Observed his courtship to the common people.
1.4.25599How he did seem to dive into their hearts
1.4.27601What reverence he did throw away on slaves,
1.4.28602Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles
1.4.29603And patient underbearing of his fortune,
1.4.30604As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
1.4.31605Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench.
1.4.32606A brace of draymen bid God speed him well,
1.4.33607And had the tribute of his supple knee
1.4.34608With "Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends,"
1.4.35609As were our England in reversion his,
1.4.36610And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
Well, he is gone, and with him go these thoughts.
1.4.38612Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,
1.4.39613Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
1.4.40614Ere further leisure yield them further means
1.4.41615For their advantage and your highness' loss.
We will ourself in person to this war.
1.4.43617And, for our coffers, with too great a court
1.4.44618And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
1.4.45619We are enforced to farm our royal realm,
1.4.46620The revenue whereof shall furnish us
1.4.47621For our affairs in hand. If that come short,
1.4.48622Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters,
1.4.49623Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
1.4.50624They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold
1.4.51625And send them after to supply our wants;
1.4.52626For we will make for Ireland presently.
Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,
1.4.54630Suddenly taken, and hath sent post-haste
1.4.55631To entreat your majesty to visit him.
Where lies he?
At Ely house.
Now put it, God, in the physician's mind
1.4.59635To help him to his grave immediately!
1.4.60636The lining of his coffers shall make coats
1.4.61637To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
1.4.62638Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him.
1.4.63639Pray God we may make haste and come too late!
[All]
Amen!
Exeunt.
Enter John of Gaunt sick, [carried in a chair,] with the Duke of York, [and attendants.]
Will the King come, that I may breathe my last
2.1.2643In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath,
2.1.4645For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
Oh, but they say the tongues of dying men
2.1.6647Enforce attention like deep harmony.
2.1.7648Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain,
2.1.8649For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
2.1.9650He that no more must say is listened more
2.1.10651Than they whom youth and ease have taught to gloze,
2.1.11652More are men's ends marked than their lives before.
2.1.12653The setting sun, and music at the close,
2.1.13654As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
2.1.14655Writ in remembrance more than things long past.
2.1.15656Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,
2.1.16657My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.
No, it is stopped with other, flattering sounds,
2.1.18659As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond;
2.1.19660Lascivious meters, to whose venom sound
2.1.20661The open ear of youth doth always listen;
2.1.22663Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation
2.1.24665Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity --
2.1.25666So it be new, there's no respect how vile --
2.1.26667That is not quickly buzzed into his ears?
2.1.27668Then all too late comes counsel to be heard,
2.1.28669Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
2.1.29670Direct not him whose way himself will choose.
2.1.30671'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.
Methinks I am a prophet new inspired,
2.1.32673And thus, expiring, do foretell of him.
2.1.33674His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
2.1.34675For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
2.1.35676Small show'rs last long, but sudden storms are short;
2.1.36677He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
2.1.37678With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder;
2.1.39680Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
2.1.40681This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle,
2.1.41682This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
2.1.43684This fortress built by nature for herself
2.1.44685Against infection and the hand of war,
2.1.45686This happy breed of men, this little world,
2.1.46687This precious stone set in the silver sea,
2.1.47688Which serves it in the office of a wall,
2.1.49690Against the envy of less happier lands,
2.1.50691This blessèd plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
2.1.51692This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
2.1.52693Feared by their breed and famous by their birth,
2.1.53694Renownèd for their deeds as far from home
2.1.54695For Christian service and true chivalry
2.1.55696As is the sepulcher in stubborn Jewry
2.1.56697Of the world's ransom, blessèd Mary's son,
2.1.57698This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
2.1.58699Dear for her reputation through the world,
2.1.59700Is now leased out -- I die pronouncing it --
2.1.61702England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
2.1.62703Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
2.1.63704Of wat'ry Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
2.1.64705With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds.
2.1.65706That England that was wont to conquer others
2.1.66707Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
2.1.67708Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
2.1.68709How happy then were my ensuing death!
[Flourish.]
The King is come. Deal mildly with his youth,
2.1.70713For young hot colts, being raged, do rage the more.
710 Enter King [Richard] and [the] Queen, [Aumerle, Bushy, Green, Bagot, Ross, and Willoughby, with attendants]. How fares our noble uncle Lancaster?
What comfort, man? How is't with agèd Gaunt?
Oh, how that name befits my composition!
2.1.74717Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old.
2.1.75718Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast,
2.1.76719And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt?
2.1.77720For sleeping England long time have I watched;
2.1.78721Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt.
2.1.79722The pleasure that some fathers feed upon
2.1.80723Is my strict fast -- I mean, my children's looks --
2.1.81724And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt.
2.1.82725Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
2.1.83726Whose hollow womb inherits naught but bones.
Can sick men play so nicely with their names?
No, misery makes sport to mock itself.
2.1.86729Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
2.1.87730I mock my name, great King, to flatter thee.
Should dying men flatter with those that live?
No, no, men living flatter those that die.
Thou, now a-dying, sayest thou flatterest me.
Oh, no, thou diest, though I the sicker be.
I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
Now He that made me knows I see thee ill,
2.1.94737Ill in myself to see, and in thee, seeing ill.
2.1.95738Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land,
2.1.96739Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
2.1.97740And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
2.1.98741Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
2.1.99742Of those physicians that first wounded thee.
2.1.100743A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
2.1.101744Whose compass is no bigger than thy head,
2.1.103746The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
2.1.104747Oh, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye,
2.1.105748Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
2.1.106749From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
2.1.107750Deposing thee before thou wert possessed,
2.1.108751Which art possessed now to depose thyself.
2.1.109752Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
2.1.110753It were a shame to let this land by lease;
2.1.111754But, for thy world enjoying but this land,
2.1.112755Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
2.1.113756Landlord of England art thou now, not king.
2.1.114757Thy state of law is bondslave to the law,
And thou -- A lunatic lean-witted fool,
2.1.119762Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
2.1.122765Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
2.1.123766This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
2.1.124767Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
Oh, spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
2.1.128771Hast thou tapped out and drunkenly caroused.
2.1.129772My brother Gloucester -- plain well-meaning soul,
2.1.130773Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls --
2.1.132775That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood.
2.1.133776Join with the present sickness that I have,
2.1.135778To crop at once a too long withered flower.
2.1.136779Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
2.1.137780These words hereafter thy tormentors be! --
2.1.139782Love they to live that love and honor have.
Exit [borne off by attendants].
And let them die that age and sullens have,
2.1.141784For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
I do beseech your majesty, impute his words
2.1.144787He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
2.1.145788As Harry, Duke of Hereford, were he here.
Right, you say true: As Hereford's love, so his;
2.1.147790As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is!
[Enter Northumberland.]
My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty.
What says he?
What says he? Nay, nothing; all is said.
2.1.151796His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
2.1.152797Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
Be York the next that must be bankrupt so!
2.1.154799Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
2.1.156801His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
2.1.157802So much for that. Now for our Irish wars:
2.1.158803We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
2.1.159804Which live like venom where no venom else
2.1.161806And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
2.1.162807Towards our assistance we do seize to us
2.1.164809Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possessed.
How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long
2.1.167812Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment,
2.1.168813Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
2.1.170815About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
2.1.171816Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
2.1.172817Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
2.1.174819Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first.
2.1.175820In war was never lion raged more fierce,
2.1.176821In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
2.1.177822Than was that young and princely gentleman.
2.1.178823His face thou hast, for even so looked he,
2.1.179824Accomplished with the number of thy hours;
2.1.180825But when he frowned, it was against the French
2.1.181826And not against his friends. His noble hand
2.1.182827Did win what he did spend, and spent not that
2.1.183828Which his triumphant father's hand had won.
2.1.184829His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
2.1.186831Oh, Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Why, uncle, what's the matter?
Why, uncle, what's the matter? O my liege,
2.1.189Pardon me, if you please. If not, I, pleased
2.1.191837Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
2.1.192838The royalties and rights of banished Hereford?
2.1.193839Is not Gaunt dead? And doth not Hereford live?
2.1.194840Was not Gaunt just? And is not Harry true?
2.1.195841Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
2.1.197843Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time
2.1.202848Now, afore God -- God forbid I say true! --
2.1.203849If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
2.1.204850Call in the letters patents that he hath
2.1.206852His livery, and deny his offered homage,
2.1.207853You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
2.1.208854You lose a thousand well-disposèd hearts,
2.1.209855And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
2.1.210856Which honor and allegiance cannot think.
Think what you will, we seize into our hands
2.1.212858His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.
I'll not be by the while. My liege, farewell.
2.1.214860What will ensue hereof there's none can tell;
862That their events can never fall out good.
Exit.
Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight.
2.1.219866We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow.
2.1.221868Our uncle York, lord Governor of England;
2.1.222869For he is just and always loved us well. --
2.1.223870Come on, our queen. Tomorrow must we part.
2.1.224871Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
[Flourish.]
Exeunt King [Richard] and [the] Queen[, Aumerle, Bushy, Green, and Bagot].
Northumberland[, Willoughby, and Ross remain behind].
Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
And living too, for now his son is duke.
Barely in title, not in revenues.
Richly in both, if Justice had her right.
My heart is great, but it must break with silence
2.1.230878Ere't be disburdened with a liberal tongue.
Nay, speak thy mind, and let him ne'er speak more
2.1.232880That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
[To Ross] Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford?
2.1.235883Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
No good at all that I can do for him,
Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne
2.1.243892By flatterers; and what they will inform
2.1.246895'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
The commons hath he pilled with grievous taxes,
2.1.248897And quite lost their hearts. The nobles hath he fined
2.1.249898For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.
And daily new exactions are devised,
2.1.251900As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what.
2.1.252901But what, a God's name, doth become of this?
Wars hath not wasted it, for warred he hath not,
2.1.255904That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows.
2.1.256905More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
The King grown bankrupt like a broken man.
Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
He hath not money for these Irish wars,
2.1.261910His burdenous taxations notwithstanding,
2.1.262911But by the robbing of the banished Duke.
His noble kinsman. Most degenerate King!
2.1.264913But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
2.1.266915We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
2.1.267916And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
We see the very wrack that we must suffer,
2.1.270919For suffering so the causes of our wrack.
Not so. Even through the hollow eyes of death
Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours.
Be confident to speak, Northumberland.
2.1.276925We three are but thyself, and speaking so,
2.1.277926Thy words are but as thoughts. Therefore be bold.
Then thus: I have from Le Port Blanc,
2.1.279928A bay in Brittany, received intelligence
2.1.280929That Harry, Duke of Hereford, Rainold, lord Cobham,
2.1.280.1Thomas, son and heir to the Earl of Arundel,
2.1.281930That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
2.1.282931His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
2.1.284933Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis Coint.
2.1.285934All these well furnished by the Duke of Brittany
2.1.286935With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
2.1.287936Are making hither with all due expedience
2.1.288937And shortly mean to touch our northern shore.
2.1.289938Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
2.1.290939The first departing of the King for Ireland.
2.1.291940If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
2.1.292941Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
2.1.293942Redeem from broking pawn the blemished crown,
2.1.294943Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt,
To horse, to horse! Urge doubts to them that fear.
Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.
Enter the Queen, Bushy, [and] Bagot.
Madam, your majesty is too much sad.
2.2.2954You promised, when you parted with the King,
2.2.3955To lay aside life-harming heaviness
2.2.4956And entertain a cheerful disposition.
To please the King I did; to please myself
2.2.6958I cannot do it. Yet I know no cause
2.2.7959Why I should welcome such a guest as Grief,
2.2.8960Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
2.2.9961As my sweet Richard. Yet again, methinks
2.2.10962Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune's womb
2.2.11963Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
2.2.12964With nothing trembles. At something it grieves
2.2.13965More than with parting from my lord the King.
Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows
2.2.15967Which shows like grief itself, but is not so;
2.2.16968For Sorrow's eyes, glazèd with blinding tears,
2.2.17969Divides one thing entire to many objects,
2.2.18970Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon
2.2.19971Show nothing but confusion; eyed awry,
2.2.20972Distinguish form. So your sweet Majesty,
2.2.21973Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
2.2.22974Find shapes of grief more than himself to wail,
2.2.23975Which, looked on as it is, is naught but shadows
2.2.24976Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious Queen,
2.2.25977More than your lord's departure weep not. More is not seen,
2.2.26978Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
2.2.27979Which for things true weeps things imaginary.
It may be so; but yet my inward soul
2.2.29981Persuades me it is otherwise. Howe'er it be,
2.2.31983As thought, on thinking on no thought I think,
2.2.32984Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.
'Tis nothing less. Conceit is still derived
2.2.35987From some forefather grief. Mine is not so,
2.2.36988For nothing hath begot my something grief --
2.2.37989Or something hath the nothing that I grieve.
2.2.38990'Tis in reversion that I do possess;
2.2.39991But what it is, that is not yet known. "What"
2.2.40992I cannot name. 'Tis nameless woe, I wot.
[Enter Green.]
God save your majesty! -- And well met, gentlemen.
2.2.42995I hope the King is not yet shipped for Ireland.
Why hop'st thou so? 'Tis better hope he is;
2.2.44997For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope.
2.2.45998Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipped?
That he, our hope, might have retired his power
2.2.471000And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
2.2.481001Who strongly hath set footing in this land.
2.2.491002The banished Bolingbroke repeals himself,
Queen
At Ravenspurgh. Now God in heaven forbid!
Ah, madam, 'tis too true; and, that is worse,
2.2.531007The lord Northumberland, his son young Harry Percy,
2.2.541008The lords of Ross, Beaumont, and Willoughby,
2.2.551009With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
Why have you not proclaimed Northumberland
2.2.571011And all the rest revolted faction traitors?
We have; whereupon the Earl of Worcester
2.2.591013Hath broken his staff, resigned his stewardship,
2.2.601014And all the Household servants fled with him
Queen
So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
2.2.621016And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir.
2.2.631017Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
2.2.651019Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow joined.
Despair not, madam.
Despair not, madam. Who shall hinder me?
2.2.711025Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
[Enter York, wearing a gorget.]
Here comes the Duke of York.
With signs of war about his agèd neck.
2.2.751030Oh, full of careful business are his looks! --
2.2.761031Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words.
Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts.
2.2.781032Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth,
2.2.791033Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief.
2.2.801034Your husband, he is gone to save far off,
2.2.811035Whilst others come to make him lose at home.
2.2.831037Who, weak with age, cannot support myself.
2.2.841038Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
2.2.851039Now shall he try his friends that flattered him.
[Enter a Servingman.]
My lord, your son was gone before I came.
He was? Why, so! Go all which way it will!
2.2.881043The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
2.2.891044And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
2.2.901045Sirrah, get thee to Pleshy, to my sister Gloucester;
2.2.911046Bid her send me presently a thousand pound.
My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:
2.2.951050But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
What is't, knave?
An hour before I came, the Duchess died.
God for his mercy, what a tide of woes
2.2.991054Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
2.2.1021057The King had cut off my head with my brother's.
2.2.1031058What, are there no posts dispatched for Ireland?
2.2.1041059How shall we do for money for these wars? --
2.2.1051060[To Queen] Come, sister -- cousin, I would say; pray pardon me. --
2.2.1061061[To Servingman] Go, fellow, get thee home. Provide some carts
2.2.1071062And bring away the armor that is there.
[Exit Servingman.] 2.2.1081063[To Bushy, Bagot and Green] Gentlemen, will you go muster men?
2.2.1091064If I know how or which way to order these affairs
2.2.1151070Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
2.2.1161071Well, somewhat we must do. [To Queen.] Come, cousin,
2.2.1171072I'll dispose of you. -- Gentlemen, go muster up your men,
But time will not permit. All is uneven,
Exeunt [the] Duke [of York and the] Queen.
Bushy, Green[, and Bagot remain behind].
The wind sits fair for news to go for Ireland,
Is all unpossible.
Besides, our nearness to the King in love
2.2.1251080Is near the hate of those love not the King.
And that is the wavering commons; for their love
2.2.1271082Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them
2.2.1281083By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
Wherein the King stands generally condemned.
If judgment lie in them, then so do we,
Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol Castle.
Thither will I with you; for little office
2.2.1361091Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. --
No; I will to Ireland, to his majesty.
2.2.1401095We three here part that ne'er shall meet again.
That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.
Alas, poor Duke! The task he undertakes
2.2.1441099Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
2.2.1451100Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever.
Well, we may meet again.
Well, we may meet again. I fear me, never.
[Exeunt.]
Enter [Bolingbroke], [Duke of Lancaster and] Hereford, [and] Northumberland [with soldiers].
How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
Believe me, noble lord,
2.3.31108I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire.
2.3.41109These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
2.3.51110Draws out our miles and makes them wearisome.
2.3.61111And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
2.3.71112Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
2.3.91114From Ravenspurgh to Cotshall will be found
2.3.101115In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
2.3.111116Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
2.3.121117The tediousness and process of my travel.
2.3.131118But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
2.3.161121Than hope enjoyed. By this the weary lords
2.3.171122Shall make their way seem short as mine hath done
2.3.181123By sight of what I have, your noble company.
Of much less value is my company
2.3.201125Than your good words. But who comes here?
It is my son, young Harry Percy,
2.3.221128Sent from my brother Worcester whencesoever. --
I had thought, my lord, to have learned his health of you.
Why, is he not with the Queen?
No, my good lord. He hath forsook the court,
2.3.271134Broken his staff of office, and dispersed
What was his reason? He was not so resolved
Because your lordship was proclaimèd traitor,
2.3.331140To offer service to the Duke of Hereford,
2.3.341141And sent me over by Berkeley to discover
2.3.351142What power the Duke of York had levied there,
2.3.361143Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.
Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
No, my good lord, for that is not forgot
2.3.391146Which ne'er I did remember. To my knowledge,
Then learn to know him now. This is the Duke.
[To Bolingbroke] My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
2.3.431151Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young,
2.3.441152Which elder days shall ripen and confirm
I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
2.3.481156As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends;
2.3.501158It shall be still thy true love's recompense.
2.3.511159My heart this covenant makes; my hand thus seals it.
[He gives Percy his hand.]
[To Percy] How far is it to Berkeley? And what stir
2.3.531161Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
There stands the castle by yon tuft of trees,
2.3.551163Manned with three hundred men, as I have heard;
2.3.561164And in it are the lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour,
[Enter Ross and Willoughby.]
Here come the lords of Ross and Willoughby,
2.3.591168Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
2.3.621171Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enriched,
2.3.631172Shall be your love and labor's recompense.
Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
And far surmounts our labor to attain it.
Evermore thank's the exchequer of the poor,
2.3.671176Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
2.3.681177Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
[Enter Berkeley.]
It is my lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
My lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
My lord, my answer is -- "to Lancaster,"
2.3.721182And I am come to seek that name in England,
2.3.731183And I must find that title in your tongue
Mistake me not, my lord, 'tis not my meaning
2.3.771187To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will,
2.3.781188From the most gracious regent of this land,
2.3.791189The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
2.3.811191And fright our native peace with self-borne arms.
[Enter York.]
I shall not need transport my words by you.
2.3.831194Here comes his grace in person. -- My noble uncle!
[He kneels.]
Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
[Standing] My gracious uncle --
Tut, tut!
2.3.87.1Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.
2.3.881199I am no traitor's uncle, and that word "grace"
2.3.901201Why have those banished and forbidden legs
2.3.911202Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?
2.3.921203But then more "why": why have they dared to march
2.3.941205Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
2.3.961207Com'st thou because the anointed King is hence?
2.3.971208Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind,
2.3.991210Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
2.3.1011212Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
2.3.1021213From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
2.3.1031214Oh, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
My gracious uncle, let me know my fault.
Even in condition of the worst degree,
As I was banished, I was banished Hereford;
2.3.1191230Will you permit that I shall stand condemned
2.3.1201231A wandering vagabond, my rights and royalties
2.3.1211232Plucked from my arms perforce and given away
2.3.1261237Had you first died and he been thus trod down,
2.3.1271238He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father
2.3.1281239To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
2.3.1311242My father's goods are all distrained and sold,
2.3.1341245And I challenge law. Attorneys are denied me,
[To York] The noble Duke hath been too much abused.
[To York] It stands your grace upon to do him right.
[To York] Base men by his endowments are made great.
My lords of England, let me tell you this:
2.3.1451256To find out right with wrong, it may not be.
The noble Duke hath sworn his coming is
2.3.1511262And let him never see joy that breaks that oath!
Well, well. I see the issue of these arms.
An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause,
2.3.1701281Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are.
1282Things past redress are now with me past care.
Exeunt.
Enter [the] Earl of Salisbury and a Welsh Captain.
My lord of Salisbury, we have stayed ten days
2.4.21286And hardly kept our countrymen together,
2.4.31287And yet we hear no tidings from the King.
2.4.41288Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewell.
Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman.
2.4.61290The King reposeth all his confidence in thee.
'Tis thought the King is dead. We will not stay.
2.4.81292The bay trees in our country are all withered,
2.4.91293And meteors fright the fixèd stars of heaven;
2.4.101294The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth,
2.4.111295And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change;
2.4.121296Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap,
2.4.131297The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
2.4.151299These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.
2.4.161300Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled,
2.4.171301As well assured Richard their king is dead.
[Exit.]
Ah, Richard! With the eyes of heavy mind
2.4.201304Fall to the base earth from the firmament.
2.4.221306Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest.
2.4.231307Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes,
2.4.241308And crossly to thy good all fortune goes.
[Exit.]
Enter [Bolingbroke,] Duke of [Lancaster and] Hereford, York, Northumberland, [Ross, Harry Percy, and Willoughby, with]
1311Bushy and Green [as] prisoners[, guarded]. Bring forth these men. --
[Bushy and Green are brought forth.]
3.1.31314Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls,
3.1.41315Since presently your souls must part your bodies,
3.1.51316With too much urging your pernicious lives,
3.1.61317For 'twere no charity; yet to wash your blood
3.1.71318From off my hands, here in the view of men
3.1.81319I will unfold some causes of your deaths:
3.1.91320You have misled a prince, a royal king,
3.1.101321A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
3.1.121323You have in manner with your sinful hours
3.1.131324Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
3.1.151326And stained the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
3.1.161327With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
3.1.171328Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
3.1.181329Near to the King in blood, and near in love
3.1.201331Have stooped my neck under your injuries
3.1.211332And sighed my English breath in foreign clouds,
3.1.241335Disparked my parks and felled my forest woods,
3.1.251336From my own windows torn my household coat,
3.1.261337Rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign,
3.1.271338Save men's opinions and my living blood,
3.1.291340This and much more, much more than twice all this,
3.1.301341Condemns you to the death. -- See them delivered over
More welcome is the stroke of death to me
3.1.331344Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.
My comfort is that heaven will take our souls
3.1.351346And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
My lord Northumberland, see them dispatched.
[Exeunt Northumberland, with Bushy and Green, guarded.]
3.1.371348[To York] Uncle, you say the Queen is at your house.
3.1.381349For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated.
3.1.391350Tell her I send to her my kind commends.
3.1.401351Take special care my greetings be delivered.
A gentleman of mine I have dispatched
3.1.421353With letters of your love to her at large.
Thanks, gentle uncle. -- Come, lords, away,
3.1.441355To fight with Glendower and his complices.
1356A while to work, and after holiday.
Exeunt.
[Drums. Flourish and colors.]
Enter King [Richard,] Aumerle, Carlisle, etc.[, and soldiers.]
Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand?
Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air
3.2.31363After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy
3.2.51365To stand upon my kingdom once again.
3.2.5.1[He places his hand on the ground.] 3.2.61366Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
3.2.71367Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs.
3.2.81368As a long-parted mother with her child
3.2.91369Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
3.2.101370So weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
3.2.121372Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
3.2.131373Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense,
3.2.141374But let thy spiders that suck up thy venom
3.2.151375And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way,
3.2.171377Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
3.2.191379And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
3.2.201380Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder
3.2.211381Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
3.2.221382Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
3.2.231383Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.
3.2.241384This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
3.2.251385Prove armèd soldiers, ere her native king
3.2.261386Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
Fear not, my lord. That power that made you king
3.2.281388Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
He means, my lord, that we are too remiss,
3.2.341390Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
3.2.351391Grows strong and great in substance and in power.
Discomfortable cousin! Know'st thou not
3.2.371393That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
3.2.381394Behind the globe that lights the lower world,
3.2.391395Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
3.2.411397But when from under this terrestrial ball
3.2.421398He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
3.2.431399And darts his light through every guilty hole,
3.2.441400Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
3.2.451401The cloak of night being plucked from off their backs,
3.2.461402Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
3.2.471403So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
3.2.481404Who all this while hath reveled in the night
3.2.501405Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
3.2.511406His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
3.2.531408But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
3.2.551410Can wash the balm off from an anointed king.
3.2.581413For every man that Bolingbroke hath pressed
3.2.591414To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
3.2.601415God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
3.2.611416A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,
3.2.621417Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.
Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power?
Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,
3.2.651421Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue
3.2.661422And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
3.2.671423One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
3.2.681424Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth.
3.2.691425Oh, call back yesterday, bid time return,
3.2.701426And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
3.2.721428O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;
3.2.731429For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
3.2.741430Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled.
Comfort, my liege. Why looks your grace so pale?
But now the blood of twenty thousand men
3.2.771434Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
3.2.781435And till so much blood thither come again,
3.2.791436Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
3.2.801437All souls that will be safe, fly from my side,
Comfort, my liege. Remember who you are.
I had forgot myself. Am I not King?
3.2.841441Awake, thou coward majesty, thou sleepest!
3.2.851442Is not the King's name twenty thousand names?
3.2.861443Arm, arm, my name! A puny subject strikes
3.2.871444At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
3.2.881445Ye favorites of a king. Are we not high?
3.2.891446High be our thoughts! I know my uncle York
3.2.901447Hath power enough to serve our turn. -- But who comes here?
1448 Enter [Sir Stephen] Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege
3.2.921450Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him.
Mine ear is open and my heart prepared.
3.2.941452The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
3.2.951453Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care,
3.2.971455Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
3.2.981456Greater he shall not be. If he serve God,
3.2.991457We'll serve Him too, and be his fellow so.
3.2.1011459They break their faith to God as well as us.
3.2.1031461The worst is death, and death will have his day.
Glad am I that your highness is so armed
3.2.1071465Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores
3.2.1081466As if the world were all dissolved to tears,
3.2.1111469With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel.
3.2.1121470Whitebeards have armed their thin and hairless scalps
3.2.1131471Against thy majesty; boys with women's voices
3.2.1141472Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
3.2.1201478And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
3.2.1221480Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?
3.2.1251483Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
3.2.1261484If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it!
3.2.1271485I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.
Oh villains, vipers, damned without redemption!
3.2.1311490Snakes, in my heart-blood warmed, that sting my heart!
3.2.1321491Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
3.2.1371496Again uncurse their souls. Their peace is made
3.2.1381497With heads, and not with hands. Those whom you curse
3.2.1391498Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound
3.2.1401499And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground.
Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
Ay, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.
Where is the Duke my father with his power?
No matter where. Of comfort no man speak!
3.2.1451505Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
3.2.1511511Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
3.2.1541514Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
3.2.1561516And tell sad stories of the death of kings --
3.2.1571517How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
3.2.1581518Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
3.2.1591519Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed --
3.2.1621522Keeps death his court; and there the antic sits,
3.2.1631523Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
3.2.1651525To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks,
3.2.1701530Bores thorough his castle wall, and -- farewell, king!
3.2.1711531Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
3.2.1801540To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
3.2.1811541Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe,
3.2.1831542Fear, and be slain. No worse can come to fight;
3.2.1841543And fight and die is death destroying death,
3.2.1851544Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
My father hath a power. Inquire of him,
Thou chid'st me well. -- Proud Bolingbroke, I come
3.2.1891548To change blows with thee for our day of doom. --
3.2.1921551Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
3.2.1931552Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
Men judge by the complexion of the sky
3.2.1991558To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken.
Upon his party. Thou hast said enough.
3.2.2051564[To Aumerle] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
3.2.2121571That power I have, discharge, and let them go
3.2.2131572To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
My liege, one word.
My liege, one word. He does me double wrong
3.2.2181577That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
3.2.2191578Discharge my followers. Let them hence away,
3.2.2201579From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
[Exeunt.]
Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, [attendants, soldiers with drums and colors, and trumpeter.]
So that by this intelligence we learn
3.3.21585The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury
3.3.31586Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
3.3.41587With some few private friends upon this coast.
The news is very fair and good, my lord:
3.3.61589Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
It would beseem the lord Northumberland
3.3.81591To say "King Richard." Alack the heavy day
3.3.91592When such a sacred king should hide his head!
Your grace mistakes. Only to be brief,
Left I his title out. The time hath been,
3.3.131596 Have been so brief with you to shorten you,
3.3.141598For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
Take not, good cousin, further than you should,
3.3.171601Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads.
I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself
1603Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter [Harry] Percy.
3.3.191605Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield?
The castle royally is manned, my lord,
Royally? Why, it contains no king.
Yes, my good lord,
3.3.241610It doth contain a king. King Richard lies
3.3.251611Within the limits of yon lime and stone,
3.3.261612And with him are the lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
3.3.281614Of holy reverence -- who, I cannot learn.
Oh, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
[To Northumberland] Noble lord,
3.3.311617Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
3.3.321618Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley
3.3.34.1On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand,
3.3.351621And sends allegiance and true faith of heart
3.3.371623Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
3.3.391625And lands restored again be freely granted.
3.3.401626If not, I'll use the advantage of my power,
3.3.411627And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
3.3.421628Rained from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen;
3.3.431629The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
3.3.441630It is such crimson tempest should bedrench
3.3.451631The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,
[Northumberland and trumpeter approach the battlements.]
3.3.491635Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
3.3.501636That from this castle's tottered battlements
3.3.511637Our fair appointments may be well perused.
3.3.521638Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
3.3.541640Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock
3.3.551641At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
3.3.561642Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
3.3.571643The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain
3.3.581644My waters: on the earth, and not on him.
3.3.591645March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
1646The trumpets sound [a parle without, followed by an answer from within; then a flourish. King] Richard appears on the walls, with] Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop, [and] Salisbury. See, see, King Richard doth himself appear
3.3.631652When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
Yet looks he like a king. Behold, his eye,
3.3.671656As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
3.3.681657Controlling majesty. Alack, alack for woe
3.3.691658That any harm should stain so fair a show!
[To Northumberland below] We are amazed, and thus long have we stood
3.3.711660To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
3.3.721661Because we thought ourself thy lawful king.
3.3.731662And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
3.3.741663To pay their awful duty to our presence?
3.3.761665That hath dismissed us from our stewardship;
3.3.771666For well we know no hand of blood and bone
3.3.781667Can gripe the sacred handle of our scepter,
3.3.801669And though you think that all, as you have done,
3.3.811670Have torn their souls by turning them from us,
3.3.821671And we are barren and bereft of friends,
3.3.841673Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf
3.3.851674Armies of pestilence, and they shall strike
3.3.871676That lift your vassal hands against my head
3.3.881677And threat the glory of my precious crown.
3.3.891678Tell Bolingbroke, for yon methinks he stands,
3.3.911680Is dangerous treason. He is come to open
3.3.931682But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
3.3.941683Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
3.3.951684Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
3.3.961685Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
3.3.981687Her pasture's grass with faithful English blood.
The King of heaven forbid our lord the King
3.3.1021691Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand,
3.3.1041693That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
3.3.1061695Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
3.3.1141703His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
Northumberland, say thus the King returns:
3.3.1221711Shall be accomplished without contradiction.
[Northumberland and the trumpeter return to Bolingbroke.]
3.3.1251714[To Aumerle] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
No, good my lord, let's fight with gentle words,
3.3.1301719Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.
O God, O God, that e'er this tongue of mine
3.3.1381727Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
3.3.1391728Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
[Northumberland makes his way back to the walls.]
Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.
What must the King do now? Must he submit?
3.3.1541744Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
3.3.1551745May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
3.3.1561746For on my heart they tread now whilst I live,
3.3.1581748Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin.
3.3.1591749We'll make foul weather with despisèd tears;
3.3.1601750Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn
3.3.1631753And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
3.3.1661756Within the earth; and therein laid -- there lies
3.3.1671757Two kinsmen digged their graves with weeping eyes.
3.3.1681758Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see
[Northumberland draws near.]
3.3.1711761What says King Bolingbroke? Will his majesty
3.3.1721762Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
My lord, in the base court he doth attend
3.3.1751765To speak with you, may it please you to come down.
Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaëton,
3.3.1781768In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
3.3.1791769To come at traitors' calls and do them grace.
3.3.1801770In the base court come down? Down court! Down King!
3.3.1811771For night owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.
[Exeunt King Richard and party from above.]
[Northumberland reports back to Bolingbroke.]
What says his majesty?
Sorrow and grief of heart
[Enter King Richard and his party below.]
Stand all apart,
1777And show fair duty to his majesty.
He kneels down. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
3.3.1891781To make the base earth proud with kissing it.
3.3.1901782Me rather had my heart might feel your love,
3.3.1931785Thus high at least
[He points to his crown.] although your knee be low.
[standing] My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
Well you deserve. They well deserve to have
3.3.1991794That know the strong'st and surest way to get. --
3.3.2001795[To York] Uncle, give me your hands. Nay, dry your eyes.
3.3.2011796Tears show their love, but want their remedies. --
3.3.2021797[To Bolingbroke] Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
3.3.2041799What you will have, I'll give, and willing, too;
Yea, my good lord.
Yea, my good lord. Then I must not say no.
[Flourish.]
[Exeunt.]
Enter the Queen with [two Ladies,] her attendants.
What sport shall we devise here in this garden
3.4.21809To drive away the heavy thought of care?
Madam, we'll play at bowls.
'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs
3.4.51812And that my fortune runs against the bias.
Madam, we'll dance.
My legs can keep no measure in delight
3.4.81815When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief.
3.4.91816Therefore no dancing, girl. Some other sport.
Madam, we'll tell tales.
Of sorrow or of joy?
Of sorrow or of joy? Of either, madam.
Of neither, girl,
3.4.141821For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
3.4.191826And what I want it boots not to complain.
Madam, I'll sing.
Madam, I'll sing. 'Tis well that thou hast cause,
3.4.221829But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou weep.
I could weep, madam, would it do you good.
And I could sing, would weeping do me good,
1833 Enter [Master] Gardener [and his two Men]. 3.4.271835Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
3.4.291837They will talk of state, for every one doth so
3.4.301838Against a change. Woe is forerun with woe.
[The Queen and her Ladies stand apart.]
3.4.311839Gardener[To one Man] Go, bind thou up young dangling apricots,
3.4.321840Which, like unruly children, make their sire
3.4.331841Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight.
3.4.341842Give some supportance to the bending twigs. --
3.4.351843[To other Man] Go thou, and like an executioner
3.4.361844Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays
3.4.371845That look too lofty in our commonwealth.
3.4.401848The noisome weeds which without profit suck
3.4.411849The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
Why should we, in the compass of a pale,
3.4.451853When our sea-wallèd garden, the whole land,
3.4.461854Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up,
3.4.471855Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined,
3.4.481856Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars? Hold thy peace,
3.4.511859He that hath suffered this disordered spring
3.4.521860Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf.
3.4.531861The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
3.4.541862That seemed in eating him to hold him up,
3.4.551863Are plucked up, root and all, by Bolingbroke --
3.4.561864I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
What are they dead?
What are they dead? They are; and Bolingbroke
3.4.591867Hath seized the wasteful king. Oh, what pity is it
3.4.601868That he had not so trimmed and dressed his land
3.4.621870Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees,
3.4.631871Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood,
3.4.641872With too much riches it confound itself.
3.4.651873Had he done so to great and growing men,
3.4.661874They might have lived to bear and he to taste
3.4.671875Their fruits of duty. Superfluous branches
3.4.681876We lop away, that bearing boughs may live.
3.4.691877Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
3.4.701878Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.
What, think you the King shall be deposed?
Depressed he is already, and deposed
3.4.731881'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night
3.4.741882To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's,
Oh, I am pressed to death through want of speaking!
[She comes forward.]
3.4.771885Thou old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden,
3.4.781886How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
3.4.791887What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee
3.4.811889Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed?
3.4.821890Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth,
3.4.831891Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how
3.4.841892Cam'st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch?
Pardon me, madam. Little joy have I
3.4.861894To breathe this news, yet what I say is true.
3.4.881896Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weighed.
3.4.891897In your lord's scale is nothing but himself
3.4.901898And some few vanities that make him light,
3.4.911899But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
3.4.921900Besides himself, are all the English peers,
3.4.931901And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
3.4.941902Post you to London and you will find it so.
3.4.951903I speak no more than everyone doth know.
Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot,
3.4.981906And am I last that knows it? Oh, thou thinkest
3.4.991907To serve me last that I may longest keep
3.4.1001908Thy sorrow in my breast. -- Come, ladies, go
3.4.1031911Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke? --
1913Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow.
Exit [with Ladies].
Poor Queen, so that thy state might be no worse,
3.4.1071916Here did she fall a tear. Here in this place
3.4.1091918Rue even for ruth here shortly shall be seen,
Exeunt.
Enter Bolingbroke with the lords [Aumerle, Northumberland, Percy, Fitzwater, Surrey, the Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of Westminster, Another Lord, a herald, and attendants] to Parliament.
Call forth Bagot. Enter [officers with] Bagot.
4.1.31926What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
4.1.41927Who wrought it with the King, and who performed
4.1.51928The bloody office of his timeless end.
Then set before my face the lord Aumerle.
[To Aumerle] Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
[Aumerle steps forward.]
My lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
4.1.91932Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered.
4.1.101933In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted,
4.1.111934I heard you say, "Is not my arm of length,
4.1.121935That reacheth from the restful English court
4.1.131936As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?"
4.1.151938I heard you say that you had rather refuse
4.1.181941Adding withal how blest this land would be
Princes and noble lords,
4.1.201943What answer shall I make to this base man?
4.1.221945On equal terms to give him chastisement?
4.1.231946Either I must, or have mine honor soiled
4.1.241947With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
[He throws down a gage.]
4.1.251948There is my gage, the manual seal of death
4.1.261949That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest,
4.1.271950And will maintain what thou hast said is false
4.1.281951In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
4.1.291952To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
Bagot, forbear. Thou shalt not take it up.
Excepting one, I would he were the best
4.1.321955In all this presence that hath moved me so.
[Throwing down a gage]
If that thy valor stand on sympathy,
4.1.341957There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine.
4.1.351958By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st,
4.1.361959I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it,
4.1.371960That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death.
4.1.381961If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest,
4.1.391962And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
4.1.401963Where it was forgèd, with my rapier's point.
[Taking up the gage]
Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day.
Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.
Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this.
Aumerle, thou liest! His honor is as true
4.1.461969And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
[He throws down a gage.]
4.1.471970To prove it on thee to the extremest point
4.1.481971Of mortal breathing. Seize it if thou dar'st.
[Taking up the gage]
And if I do not, may my hands rot off
4.1.501973And never brandish more revengeful steel
I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle,
From sun to sun.[He throws down a gage.] There is my honor's pawn.
[Taking up the gage]
Who sets me else? By heaven, I'll throw at all!
My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
'Tis very true. You were in presence then,
4.1.631980And you can witness with me this is true.
As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
Surrey, thou liest.
Surrey, thou liest. Dishonorable boy,
4.1.66That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword
4.1.671986That it shall render vengeance and revenge
4.1.681987Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie
4.1.691988In earth as quiet as thy father's skull.
4.1.701989In proof whereof, there is my honor's pawn.
[He throws down a gage.]
[Taking up the gage] How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!
4.1.731992If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
4.1.761995And lies, and lies!
[He throws down a gage.] And lies, and lies! [He throws down a gage.] There is my bond of faith,
4.1.781997As I intend to thrive in this new world,
4.1.801999Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say
4.1.812000That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
Some honest Christian trust me with a gage.
[Aumerle receives a gage which he throws down.]
4.1.842003That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this,
These differences shall all rest under gage,
4.1.872006Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be,
4.1.892008To all his lands and signories. When he is returned,
4.1.902009Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
That honorable day shall never be seen.
4.1.922011Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought
4.1.932012For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
4.1.942013Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
4.1.952014Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens;
4.1.962015And, toiled with works of war, retired himself
4.1.982017His body to that pleasant country's earth,
4.1.992018And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
As surely as I live, my lord.
Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
2025Till we assign you to your days of trial.
Enter York.
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
4.1.1072028From plume-plucked Richard, who with willing soul
4.1.1082029Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields
In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
Marry, God forbid!
4.1.1212042And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?
4.1.1222043Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear,
4.1.1282049And he himself not present? O forfend it, God,
4.1.1302051Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
4.1.1332054My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
4.1.1362057The blood of English shall manure the ground,
4.1.1382059Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
4.1.1402061Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound.
4.1.1432064The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
4.1.1442065Oh, if you raise this house against this house,
4.1.1482069Lest child, child's children, cry against you, "Woe!"
Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains
[ Carlisle is taken into custody.]
4.1.1532074May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit?
Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
Without suspicion. I will be his conduct.
Exit.
Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
4.1.1582080Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
4.1.1602082And little looked for at your helping hands.
2083Enter [King] Richard and York [with attendants bearing the crown and scepter.] Alack, why am I sent for to a king
4.1.1632086Wherewith I reigned? I hardly yet have learned
4.1.1642087To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
4.1.1672090The favors of these men. Were they not mine?
4.1.1682091Did they not sometime cry, "All hail!" to me?
4.1.1702093Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
4.1.1722095Am I both priest, and clerk? Well then, Amen.
To do that office of thine own good will,
[To York] Give me the crown. [He takes the crown then hands it to Bolingbroke.] -- Here, cousin,
4.1.181.1On this side my hand, on that side thine.
4.1.1872110Drinking my griefs whilst you mount up on high.
I thought you had been willing to resign.
My crown I am, but still my griefs are mine.
4.1.1912114But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
4.1.1962119The cares I give, I have, though given away;
4.1.1972120They 'tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
Are you contented to resign the crown?
Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be.
[He gives the crown to Bolingbroke.]
[He gives the scepter to Bolingbroke.]
4.1.2082131With mine own breath release all duteous oaths.
4.1.2142137Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,
4.1.2152138And thou with all pleased that hast all achieved.
4.1.2162139Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
What more remains? [Presenting a paper to King Richard] No more, but that you read
Must I do so? And must I ravel out
4.1.2282151My weaved-up follies? Gentle Northumberland,
4.1.2322155There shouldst thou find one heinous article,
4.1.2352158Marked with a blot, damned in the book of heaven.
4.1.2372160Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
4.1.2382161Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,
My lord, dispatch. Reade o'er these articles.
[He presents the paper again.]
Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see.
My lord --
No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
4.1.2542177Nor no man's lord! I have no name, no title,
4.1.2622185Good King, great King, and yet not greatly good,
Go, some of you, and fetch a looking-glass.
[Exit one or more attendants.]
[To King Richard] Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
[He presents the paper again.]
Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell!
Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.
The commons will not then be satisfied.
They shall be satisfied. I'll read enough
4.1.2742197Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
2198Enter one [attendant] with a glass. 4.1.2752199Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
[King Richard takes the looking-glass.]
4.1.2782202And made no deeper wounds? Oh, flatt'ring glass,
4.1.2802204Thou dost beguile me. Was this face the face
4.1.2822206Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face
4.1.2842208Is this the face which faced so many follies,
[King Richard smashes the glass.]
4.1.2882212For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers.
The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed
The shadow of your face. Say that again.
4.1.2982222That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
4.1.2992223There lies the substance. And I thank thee, King,
Shall I obtain it? Name it, fair cousin.
"Fair Cousin"? I am greater than a king;
4.1.3082232Were then but subjects. Being now a subject,
Yet ask.
And shall I have?
You shall.
Then give me leave to go.
Whither?
Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.
Oh, good! "Convey"? Conveyers are you all,
4.1.3192243That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
[Exit King Richard as a guarded prisoner.]
On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down
2245Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.
Exeunt.
2245.1[The Abbot of] Westminster, Carlisle, [and] Aumerle [remain behind]. A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
The woe's to come. The children yet unborn
2248Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
You holy clergymen, is there no plot
2250To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
My lord,
4.1.161.1Before I freely speak my mind herein,
2252You shall not only take the sacrament
2253To bury mine intents, but also to effect
2254Whatever I shall happen to devise.
2255I see your brows are full of discontent,
2256Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.
2257Come home with me to supper. I'll lay
2258 A plot shall show us all a merry day.
Exeunt.
Enter the Queen with her [ladies-in-waiting].
This way the King will come. This is the way
5.1.22262To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,
5.1.32263To whose flint bosom my condemnèd lord
5.1.42264Is doomed a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke.
5.1.52265Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
5.1.62266Have any resting for her true king's queen.
Enter [King] Richard [and a guard.]
5.1.72268But soft, but see, or rather do not see
5.1.82269My fair rose wither. Yet look up, behold,
5.1.92270That you in pity may dissolve to dew
5.1.102271And wash him fresh again with true-love tears. --
5.1.112272Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand,
5.1.122273Thou map of honor, thou King Richard's tomb,
5.1.132274And not King Richard! Thou most beauteous inn,
5.1.142275Why should hard-favored grief be lodged in thee
5.1.152276When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
5.1.172278To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul,
5.1.182279To think our former state a happy dream,
5.1.192280From which awaked, the truth of what we are
5.1.202281Shows us but this. I am sworn brother, sweet,
5.1.222283Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France
5.1.232284And cloister thee in some religious house.
5.1.242285Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
5.1.252286Which our profane hours here have thrown down.
What, is my Richard both in shape and mind
5.1.272288Transformed and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke
5.1.282289Deposed thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart?
5.1.302291And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
5.1.312292To be o'er-powered; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
5.1.322293Take the correction, mildly kiss the rod,
5.1.342295Which art a lion and the king of beasts?
A king of beasts, indeed! If aught but beasts,
5.1.372298Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France.
5.1.382299Think I am dead, and that even here thou tak'st,
5.1.392300As from my deathbed, thy last living leave.
5.1.402301In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire
5.1.412302With good old folks, and let them tell the tales
5.1.432304And ere thou bid good night, to quite their griefs,
5.1.452306And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
5.1.462307For why the senseless brands will sympathize
5.1.492310And some will mourn in ashes, some coal black,
2311For the deposing of a rightful king.
Enter Northumberland.
My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed.
5.1.512314You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower. --
5.1.522315And, madam, there is order ta'en for you:
5.1.532316With all swift speed you must away to France.
Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal
5.1.552318The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
5.1.572320More than it is ere foul sin, gathering head,
5.1.582321Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think,
5.1.592322Though he divide the realm and give thee half,
5.1.612324He shall think that thou, which knowest the way
5.1.622325To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
5.1.632326Being ne'er so little urged another way,
5.1.642327To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
5.1.652328The love of wicked men converts to fear,
5.1.662329That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both
My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
5.1.692332Take leave and part, for you must part forthwith.
Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate
5.1.712334A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me,
5.1.722335And then betwixt me and my married wife. --
5.1.732336[To Queen] Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
5.1.742337And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. --
5.1.752338Part us, Northumberland, I towards the north,
5.1.762339Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
5.1.772340My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp
5.1.792342Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day.
And must we be divided? Must we part?
Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
[To Northumberland] Banish us both, and send the King with me.
That were some love, but little policy.
Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
So, two, together weeping, make one woe.
5.1.862349Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here.
5.1.872350Better far off than, near, be ne'er the near.
5.1.882351Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
So longest way shall have the longest moans.
Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
5.1.912354And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
5.1.922355Come, come, in wooing Sorrow let's be brief,
5.1.932356Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.
5.1.942357One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part.
5.1.952358Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
[They kiss.]
Give me mine own again. 'Twere no good part
5.1.972360To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
[They kiss.]
5.1.992362That I may strive to kill it with a groan.
We make woe wanton with this fond delay.
2364Once more, adieu! The rest let sorrow say.
Exeunt.
Enter [the] Duke of York and the Duchess [of York].
My lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
5.2.22368When weeping made you break the story off
5.2.32369Of our two cousins coming into London.
Where did I leave?
Where did I leave? At that sad stop, my lord,
5.2.62372Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops
5.2.72373Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke,
5.2.102376Which his aspiring rider seemed to know,
5.2.112377With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
5.2.122378Whilst all tongues cried "God save thee, Bolingbroke!"
5.2.132379You would have thought the very windows spake,
5.2.152381Through casements darted their desiring eyes
5.2.182384"Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke! "
5.2.192385Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
5.2.202386Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck,
5.2.212387Bespake them thus: "I thank you, countrymen."
5.2.222388And thus still doing, thus he passed along.
Alack, poor Richard! Where rode he the whilst?
As in a theater the eyes of men,
5.2.252391After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
5.2.282394Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
5.2.292395Did scowl on gentle Richard. No man cried "God save him!"
5.2.302396No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home,
5.2.312397But dust was thrown upon his sacred head,
5.2.322398Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
5.2.332399His face still combating with tears and smiles,
5.2.352401That had not God for some strong purpose steeled
5.2.362402The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
5.2.392405To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
5.2.402406To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
[Enter Aumerle.]
Here comes my son Aumerle.
Here comes my son Aumerle. Aumerle that was;
5.2.442411But that is lost for being Richard's friend,
5.2.452412And, madam, you must call him Rutland now.
5.2.472414And lasting fealty to the new-made king.
Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now
5.2.492416That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?
Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not.
Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
5.2.532420Lest you be cropped before you come to prime.
5.2.542421What news from Oxford? Do these jousts and triumphs hold?
For aught I know, my lord, they do.
You will be there, I know.
If God prevent not, I purpose so.
What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom?
5.2.592426Yea, lookst thou pale? Let me see the writing.
My lord, 'tis nothing.
My lord, 'tis nothing. No matter, then, who see it.
5.2.622429I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing.
I do beseech your grace to pardon me.
5.2.652432Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
I fear, I fear -- What should you fear?
5.2.692436'Tis nothing but some bond that he is entered into
5.2.702437For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day.
Bound to himself? What doth he with a bond
5.2.722439That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. --
I do beseech you, pardon me. I may not show it.
I will be satisfied. Let me see it, I say.
He plucks it out of [Aumerle's] bosom and reads it.
Treason! Foul treason! Villain! Traitor! Slave!
What is the matter, my lord?
[Calling offstage] Ho! Who is within there? Saddle my horse! --
5.2.792446God for his mercy, what treachery is here!
Why, what is it, my lord?
[Calling offstage] Give me my boots, I say! Saddle my horse! --
5.2.822449Now by mine honor, by my life, by my troth,
I will appeach the villain. What is the matter?
Peace, foolish woman.
I will not peace! -- What is the matter, Aumerle?
Good mother, be content. It is no more
Than my poor life must answer. Thy life answer?
[Calling offstage] Bring me my boots! -- I will unto the King.
2458.1His man enters with his boots. Strike him, Aumerle! Poor boy, thou art amazed. --
5.2.922460[To York's man] Hence, villain, never more come in my sight!
Give me my boots, I say.
[York's man helps him on with his boots and exits.]
Why, York, what wilt thou do?
5.2.952463Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
5.2.962464Have we more sons? Or are we like to have?
5.2.972465Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
5.2.982466And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age
Thou fond mad woman,
5.2.1032471A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament
To kill the King at Oxford. He shall be none;
5.2.1062475We'll keep him here. Then what is that to him?
Away, fond woman! Were he twenty times my son,
Hadst thou groaned for him as I have done,
5.2.1152483Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind!
And yet I love him. Make way, unruly woman!
Exit.
After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse,
5.2.1262494Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, be gone!
[Exeunt.]
Enter [Bolingbroke, now] King [Henry], with his nobles[, Harry Percy and others].
Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
5.3.22498'Tis full three months since I did see him last.
5.3.32499If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
5.3.42500I would to God, my lords, he might be found.
5.3.52501Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
5.3.62502For there, they say, he daily doth frequent
5.3.82504Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes
5.3.92505And beat our watch and rob our passengers,
5.3.102506While he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince,
5.3.132510And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
And what said the gallant?
His answer was, he would unto the stews,
5.3.162513And from the common'st creature pluck a glove
5.3.182515He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
As dissolute as desperate. Yet through both
5.3.202517I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years,
5.3.212518May happily bring forth. But who comes here?
2519Enter Aumerle, amazed. Where is the King?
What means our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly?
God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty
5.3.252524To have some conference with your grace alone.
[To his nobles] Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
[Exeunt all but King Henry and Aumerle.]
[Kneeling] Forever may my knees grow to the earth,
5.3.292528My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Intended or committed was this fault?
5.3.322531If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
[Standing] Then give me leave that I may turn the key
Have thy desire.
[Aumerle locks the door.]
The Duke of York knocks at the door and crieth.
[Within] My liege, beware! Look to thyself!
5.3.382537Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
[To Aumerle] Villain, I'll make thee safe.
[He draws his sword.]
Stay thy revengeful hand. Thou hast no cause to fear.
[Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy King!
5.3.422542Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
[King Henry unlocks the door.]
[Enter the Duke of York.]
What is the matter, uncle? Speak.
5.3.452546 Recover breath. Tell us how near is danger
[Holding out a letter] Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
5.3.482549The treason that my haste forbids me show.
[To King Henry] Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise passed.
5.3.512552My heart is not confederate with my hand.
It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. --
5.3.532554I tore it from the traitor's bosom, King.
5.3.542555Fear, and not love, begets his penitence.
5.3.562557A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
Oh, heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!
5.3.592560Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain
5.3.602561From whence this stream, through muddy passages,
5.3.612562Hath held his current and defiled himself,
So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd,
5.3.662567And he shall spend mine honor with his shame,
5.3.672568As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
5.3.682569Mine honor lives when his dishonor dies,
5.3.702571Thou kill'st me in his life: giving him breath,
5.3.712572The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
[Within] What ho, my liege! For God's sake, let me in!
What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
[Within] A woman, and thy aunt, great King; 'tis I.
Our scene is altered from a serious thing,
5.3.782580And now changed to "the Beggar and the King." --
5.3.792581My dangerous cousin, let your mother in.
5.3.802582I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
[ Aumerle opens the door.]
[The Duchess of York enters and kneels.]
If thou do pardon whosoever pray,
5.3.822584More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
5.3.832585This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound.
5.3.842586This let alone will all the rest confound.
Oh, King! Believe not this hard-hearted man.
Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
5.3.882591Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
Sweet York, be patient. -- Hear me, gentle liege.
Rise up, good aunt.
Rise up, good aunt. Not yet, I thee beseech.
5.3.942597Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy
5.3.952598By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
[Kneeling] Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee.
[Kneeling] Against them both my true joints bended be.
Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face.
5.3.1002602His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
5.3.1012603His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast.
5.3.1052607Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow.
5.3.1082610Our prayers do outpray his. Then let them have
Good aunt, stand up.
Good aunt, stand up. Nay, do not say "stand up."
5.3.1122614Say "pardon" first, and afterwards "stand up."
5.3.1132615An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
5.3.1142616"Pardon" should be the first word of thy speech.
5.3.1162618Say "pardon," King. Let pity teach thee how.
5.3.1172619The word is short, but not so short as sweet.
5.3.1182620No word like "pardon" for kings' mouths so meet.
Speak it in French, King. Say, "pardonnez-moi.".
Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
5.3.1242626[To King Henry] The chopping French we do not understand.
5.3.1252627Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there;
5.3.1262628Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear,
5.3.1272629That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Good aunt, stand up.
Good aunt, stand up. I do not sue to stand.
I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
Oh, happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
5.3.1352637Twice saying "pardon" doth not pardon twain,
I pardon him with all my heart.
A god on earth thou art.
[They all stand.]
But for our trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot,
5.3.1412643Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.
5.3.1442646They shall not live within this world, I swear,
5.3.1472649Your mother well hath prayed; and prove you true.
[To Aumerle] Come, my old son. I pray God make thee new.
Enter Sir Piers [of] Exton and Servants.
Didst thou not mark the King, what words he spake?
5.4.22655"Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?"
Was it not so? These were his very words.
"Have I no friend?" quoth he. He spake it twice,
5.4.62659And urged it twice together, did he not?
He did.
And speaking it, he wishtly looked on me,
5.4.92662As who should say, "I would thou wert the man
5.4.102663That would divorce this terror from my heart" --
5.4.112664Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's go.
5.4.122665I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe.
[Exeunt.]
Enter [King] Richard, alone.
I have been studying how I may compare
5.5.22669This prison where I live unto the world;
5.5.32670And for because the world is populous
5.5.42671And here is not a creature but myself,
5.5.52672I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out.
5.5.62673My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,
5.5.72674My soul the father, and these two beget
5.5.82675A generation of still-breeding thoughts;
5.5.92676And these same thoughts people this little world,
5.5.102677In humors like the people of this world,
5.5.112678For no thought is contented. The better sort,
5.5.122679As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed
5.5.132680With scruples, and do set the word itself
5.5.152682 As thus, "Come, little ones," and then again,
5.5.15.1"It is as hard to come, as for a camel
5.5.162683To thread the postern of a small needle's eye."
5.5.172684Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
5.5.182685Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
5.5.192686May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
5.5.202687Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls,
5.5.212688And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
5.5.222689Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
5.5.232690That they are not the first of Fortune's slaves,
5.5.242691Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
5.5.252692Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame
5.5.262693That many have and others must sit there.
5.5.272694And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
5.5.282695Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
5.5.292696Of such as have before endured the like.
5.5.312698And none contented. Sometimes am I king.
5.5.322699Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
5.5.362703Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke,
5.5.372704And straight am nothing. But whate'er I be,
5.5.392706With nothing shall be pleased till he be eased
2707With being nothing.
[The music plays.] Music do I hear?
5.5.402708Ha, ha, keep time! How sour sweet music is
5.5.412709When time is broke and no proportion kept.
5.5.442712To check time broke in a disordered string;
5.5.452713But for the concord of my state and time
5.5.462714Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
5.5.472715I wasted time, and now doth time waste me!
5.5.482716For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock.
5.5.492717My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar
5.5.502718Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
5.5.522720Is pointing still in cleansing them from tears.
5.5.532721Now, sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
5.5.542722Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart,
5.5.552723Which is the bell. So sighs, and tears, and groans
5.5.562724Show minutes, times, and hours. But my time
5.5.572725Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
5.5.582726While I stand fooling here, his jack of the clock.
5.5.592727This music mads me. Let it sound no more,
5.5.602728For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
5.5.612729In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
5.5.622730Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me,
5.5.632731For 'tis a sign of love, and love to Richard
5.5.642732Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
2733Enter a Groom of the stable. Hail, royal Prince!
Hail, royal Prince! Thanks, noble peer.
5.5.672736The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
5.5.682737What art thou, and how com'st thou hither
5.5.692738Where no man never comes but that sad dog
5.5.702739That brings me food to make misfortune live?
I was a poor groom of thy stable, King,
5.5.722741When thou wert king, who, traveling towards York,
5.5.732742With much ado, at length have gotten leave
5.5.742743To look upon my sometime royal master's face.
5.5.782747That horse that thou so often hast bestrid,
5.5.792748That horse that I so carefully have dressed.
Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
So proudly as if he disdained the ground.
So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
5.5.842753That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
5.5.852754This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
5.5.862755Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,
5.5.872756Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck,
5.5.882757Of that proud man, that did usurp his back?
5.5.892758Forgiveness, horse! Why do I rail on thee,
5.5.912760Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse,
5.5.932762Spurred, galled, and tired by jauncing Bolingbroke.
2763 Enter [Keeper] to [King] Richard, with meat. [To Groom] Fellow, give place. Here is no longer stay.
[To Groom] If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.
My lord, will't please you to fall to?
Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.
My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton, who lately
[Striking the Keeper] The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and thee!
Help, help, help!
How, now! What means Death in this rude assault?
5.5.1052777Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
5.5.105.1[King Richard seizes a weapon from a murderer and kills him with it.] That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
5.5.1082781That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
5.5.1092782Hath with the King's blood stained the King's own land.
5.5.1102783Mount, mount, my soul. Thy seat is up on high,
5.5.1112784Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
[He dies.]
As full of valor as of royal blood.
5.5.1132786Both have I spilled. O would the deed were good!
5.5.1162789This dead King to the living King I'll bear. --
5.5.1172790[To keeper and remaining men] Take hence the rest, and give them burial here.
[Exeunt with the bodies.]
[Flourish.] Enter [King Henry] with the Duke of York[, other lords, and attendants].
Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
5.6.22795Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
5.6.32796Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire,
5.6.42797But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
2798Enter [the Earl of] Northumberland. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
5.6.72801The next news is, I have to London sent
5.6.82802The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent.
5.6.92803The manner of their taking may appear
[He gives King Henry a paper.]
We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains,
5.6.122806And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
2807Enter lord Fitzwater. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
5.6.142809The heads of Brocas and sir Bennet Seely,
5.6.162811That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot.
2814Enter Harry Percy [with the Bishop of Carlisle, guarded]. The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
5.6.202816With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
5.6.232819Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride.
Carlisle, this is your doom:
5.6.252821Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
5.6.262822More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life.
5.6.272823So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife;
5.6.282824For, though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
5.6.292825High sparks of honor in thee have I seen.
2826Enter Exton, with [attendants bearing] the coffin. Great King, within this coffin I present
5.6.312828Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies
5.6.332830Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought
From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.
They love not poison that do poison need,
5.6.392836Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead,
5.6.412838The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labor,
5.6.422839But neither my good word, nor princely favor.
5.6.432840With Cain go wander through shades of night,
5.6.442841And never show thy head by day nor light.
[Exit Exton.]
5.6.462843That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow.
5.6.472844Come mourn with me for what I do lament,
5.6.502847To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.
[Attendants lift the coffin to carry it out.]
5.6.512848March sadly after. Grace my mournings here
[Exeunt with the coffin.]