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  • Title: Richard II (Quarto 1, 1597)
  • Editor: Catherine Lisak
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-436-3

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Catherine Lisak
    Peer Reviewed

    Richard II (Quarto 1, 1597)

    Enter Lord Marshall and the Duke Aumerle.
    Mar. My Lord Aumerle is Harry Herford armde?
    295Aum. Yea at all points, and longs to enter in.
    Mar. The Duke of Norfolke sprightfully and bold,
    Staies but the summons of the appellants trumpet.
    Aum. Why then the Champions are prepard and stay
    For nothing but his maiesties approach.
    300The trumpets sound and the King enters with his nobles; when
    they are set, enter the Duke of Norfolke in armes defendant.
    King Marshall demaunde of yonder Champion,
    The cause of his arriuall here in armes,
    305Aske him his name, and orderly proceede
    To sweare him in the iustice of his cause.
    Mar. In Gods name and the Kings say who thou art.
    And why thou comest thus knightly clad in armes,
    Against what man thou comst and what thy quarell.
    310Speake truly on thy knighthoode, and thy oth,
    As so defend the heauen and thy valour.
    Mow. My name is Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke,
    Who hither come ingaged by my oath,
    (Which God defende a Knight should violate)
    315Both to defend my loyalty and truth,
    To God, my King, and my succeeding issue,
    Against the Duke of Herford that appeales me,
    And by the grace of God, and this mine arme,
    To proue himin d efending of my selfe,
    320A traitour to my God, my King, and me,
    And as I truely fight, defend me heauen.
    The trumpets sound. Enter Duke of Hereford
    322.1appellant in armour.
    King Marshall aske yonder Knight in armes,
    Both who he is, and why he commeth hither,
    325Thus plated in habiliments of warre,
    And formally according to our lawe,
    Depose him in the iustice of his cause.
    Mar. What is thy name? and wherfore comst thou hither?
    Before king Richard in his royall lists,
    330Against whom comes thou? and whats thy quarrell?
    Speake like a true Knight, so defend thee heauen.
    Bul. Harry of Herford, Lancaster and Darbie
    Am I, who ready here do stand in Armes
    To proue by Gods grace, and my bodies valour
    335In lists, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norffolke,
    That he is a traitour foule and dangerous,
    To God of heauen, king Richard and to me:
    And as I truely fight, defend me heauen.
    Mar. On paine of death, no person be so bold,
    340Or daring, hardy, as to touch the listes,
    Except the Martiall and such officers
    Appoynted to direct these faire designes.
    Bul. Lord Martiall, let me kisse my Souereignes hand,
    And bow my knee before his Maiestie,
    345For Mowbray and my selfe are like two men,
    That vow a long and wearie pilgrimage,
    Then let vs take a ceremonious leaue,
    And louing farewell of our seuerall friends.
    Mar. The appellant in all duety greetes your Highnes,
    350And craues to kisse your hand, and take his leaue.
    King We will descend and fold him in our armes,
    Coosin of Herford, as thy cause is right,
    So be thy fortune in this royall fight:
    Farewell my bloud, which if to day thou shead,
    355Lament we may, but not reuenge the dead.
    Bul. O let no noble eie prophane a teare
    For me, if I be gorde with Mowbraies speare:
    As confident as is the Falcons flight
    Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
    360My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you:
    Of you (my noble cousin) Lord Aumarle,
    Not sicke although I haue to do with death,
    But lusty, yong and cheerely drawing breth:
    Loe, as at English feasts so I regreet
    365The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.
    Oh thou the earthly Authour of my bloud,
    Whose youthfull spirite in me regenerate
    Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me vp,
    To reach at Victory aboue my head:
    370Adde proofe vnto mine armour with thy prayers,
    And with thy blessings steele my launces point,
    That it may enter Mowbraies waxen cote.
    And furbish new the name of Iohn a Gaunt,
    Euen in the lustie hauiour of his sonne.
    375Gaunt. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous,
    Be swift like lightning in the execution,
    And let thy blowes doubly redoubled,
    Fall like amaZing thunder on the caske
    Of thy aduerse pernitious enemy,
    380Rowze vp thy youthfull bloud, be valiant and liue.
    Bul. Mine innocence and saint George to thriue.
    Mowb. How euer God or Fortune cast my lot,
    There liues or dies true to King Richards throne,
    A loyall, iust, and vpright Gentleman:
    385Neuer did captiue with a freer heart
    Cast off his chaines of bondagee, and embrace
    His golden vncontrould enfranchisment,
    More than my dauncing soule doth celebrate
    This feast of battle with mine aduersarie,
    390Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peeres,
    Take from my mouth the wish of happy yeeres,
    As gentle, and as iocund as to iest
    Go I to fight, truth hath a quiet brest.
    King. Farewell (my Lord) securely I espie,
    395Vertue with Valour couched in thine eie,
    Order the triall Martiall, and beginne.
    Mart. Harry of Herford, Lancaster and Darby,
    Receiue thy launce, and God defend the right.
    Bul. Strong as a tower in hope I cry, Amen.
    400Mart. Go beare this lance to Thomas Duke of Norfolke.
    Herald Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Darby
    Stands here, for God, his soueraigne, and himselfe,
    On paine to be found false and recreant,
    To proue the Duke of Norfolke Thomas Mowbray
    405A traitor to God, his king, and him,
    And dares him to set forward to the fight.
    Herald 2Here standeth Thomas Mowbray D . of Norfolk
    On paine to be found false and recreant,
    Both to defend himselfe, and to approue
    410Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Darby,
    To God, his soueraigne, and to him disloyall,
    Couragiously, and with a free desire,
    Attending but the signall to beginne.
    Mart. Sound trumpets, and set forward Combatants:
    415Stay, the king hath throwen his warder downe.
    King. Let them lay by their helmets, and their speares,
    And both returne backe to their chaires againe,
    Withdraw with vs, and let the trumpets sound,
    While we returne these dukes what we decree.
    Draw neere and list
    What with our counsell we haue done:
    For that our kingdomes earth should not be soild
    With that deare bloud which it hath fostered:
    425And for our eies do hate the dire aspect
    Of cruell wounds plowd vp with neighbours sword,
    426.1And for we thinke the Egle-winged pride
    Of skie-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
    With riuall hating enuy set on you
    To wake our peace, which in our Countries cradle
    426.5Draw the sweet infant breath of gentle sleepe,
    Which so rouZde vp with boistrous vntunde drummes,
    With harsh resounding trumpets dreadfull bray,
    And grating shocke of harsh resounding armes,
    430Might from our quiet confines fright faire Peace,
    And make vs wade euen in our kinreds bloud;
    Therefore we banish you our territories:
    You cousin Hereford vpon paine of life,
    Til twice fiue summers haue enricht our fields,
    435Shall not regreete our faire dominions,
    But treade the stranger paths of banishment.
    Bul. Your will be done; this must my comfort be,
    That Sunne that warmes you here, shall shine on me,
    And those his golden beames to you heere lent,
    440Shall point on me, and guilde my banishment.
    King Norfolke, for thee remaines a heauier doome,
    Which I with some vnwillingnesse pronounce,
    The slie slow houresshall not determinate
    The datelesse limite of thy deere exile,
    445The hoplesse word of neuerto returne,
    Breathe I against thee, vpon paine of life.
    Mowb. A heauy sentence, my most soueraigne Liege,
    And all vnlookt for from your Highnesse mouth,
    A deerer merit not so deepe a maime,
    450As to be cast forth in the common ayre
    Haue I deserued at your Highnesse hands:
    The language I haue learnt these forty yeeres,.
    My natiue English now I must forgo,
    And now my tongues vse is to me, no more
    455Than an vnstringed violl or a harpe,
    Or like a cunning instrument casde vp,
    Or being open, put into his hands
    That knowes no touch to tune the harmonie:
    Within my mouth you haue engaold my tongue,
    460Doubly portculist with my teeth and lippes,
    And dull vnfeeling barren ignorance
    Is made my Gaoler to attend on me:
    I am too olde to fawne vpon a nurse,
    Too far in yeeres to be a pupill now,
    465What is thy sentence but speechlesse death?
    Which robbes my tongue from breathing natiue breath.
    King It bootes thee not to be compassionate,
    After our sentence playning comes too late.
    Mow. Then thus I turne me from my countries light,
    470To dwel in solemne shades of endlesse night.
    King. Returne againe, and take an othe with thee,
    Lay on our royall sword your banisht hands,
    Sweare by the duty that y'owe to God,
    (Our part therein we banish with your selues,)
    475To keepe the oath that we administer:
    You neuer shall, so helpe you truth and God,
    Embrace each others loue in banishment,
    Nor neuer looke vpon each others face,
    Nor neuer write, regreete, nor reconcile
    480This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate,
    Nor neuer by aduised purpose meete,
    To plot, contriue, or complot any ill,
    Gainst vs, our state, our subiects, or our land.
    Bul. I sweare.
    485Mow. And I, to keepe al this.
    Bul. Norffolke, so fare as to mine enemy:
    By this time, had the King permitted vs,
    One of our soules had wandred in the aire,
    Banisht this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,
    490As now our flesh is banisht from this land,
    Confesse thy treasons ere thou flie the realme,
    Since thou hast far to go, beare not along
    The clogging burthen of a guiltie soule.
    Mow. No Bullingbrooke, if euer I were traitour,
    495My name be blotted from the booke of life,
    And I from heauen banisht as from hence:
    But what thou art, God, thou, and I, do know,
    And al too soone (I feare) the King shall rew:
    Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,
    500Saue backe to England al the worlds my way. Exit.
    King. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes,
    I see thy grieued heart: thy sad aspect
    Hath from the number of his banisht yeeres
    Pluckt foure away, sixe frozen winters spent,
    505Returne with welcome home from banishment.
    Bull. How long a time lies in one little word.
    Foure lagging winters and foure wanton springes,
    End in a word, such is the breath of Kinges.
    Gaunt. I thanke my liege that in regard of me,
    510He shortens foure yeares of my sonnes exile,
    But little vantage shall I reape thereby:
    For eare the sixe yeares that he hath to spend
    Can change their moones, and bring their times about,
    My oile-dried lampe, and time bewasted light
    515Shall be extint with age and endlesse nightes,
    My intch of taper will be burnt and done,
    And blindfold Death not let me see my sonne.
    King. Why Vnckle thou hast many yeares to liue.
    Gaunt. But not a minute King that thou canst giue,
    520Shorten my daies thou canst with sullen sorrowe,
    And plucke nights from me, but not lend a morrow:
    Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,
    But stoppe no wrinckle in his pilgrimage:
    Thy word is currant with him for my death,
    525But dead, thy kingdome cannot buy my breath.
    King. Thy sonne is banisht vpon good aduise,
    Whereto thy tong a party verdict gaue,
    Why at our iustice seemst thou then to lower?
    Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prooue in digestion sowre.
    530You vrgde me as a iudge, but I had rather,
    You would haue bid me argue like a father:
    531.1Oh had't beene a stranger, not my child,
    To smooth his fault I should haue beene more milde:
    A partiall slaunder ought I to auoide,
    And in the sentence my owne life destroyed:
    Alas, I lookt when some of you should say,
    I was too strict to make mine owne away:
    But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tongue,
    535Against my will to do my selfe this wrong.
    King. Coosen farewel, and Vnckle, bid him so,
    Sixe yeares we banish him and he shall go.
    Au. Cosin farewel, what presence must not know,
    540From where you doe remaine let paper shew.
    Mar. My Lord, no leaue take I, for I will ride
    As farre as land will let me by your side.
    Gaunt. Oh to what purpose doest thou hoard thy words,
    That thou returnest no greeting to thy friends?
    545Bull. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,
    When the tongues office should be prodigall,
    To breathe the aboundant dolor of the heart.
    Gaunt. Thy griefe is but thy absence for a time.
    Bull. Ioy absent, griefe is present for that time.
    550Gaunt. What is sixe winters? they are quickly gone.
    Bul. To men in ioy, but griefe makes one hower ten.
    Gaun. Call it a trauaile that thou takst for pleasure.
    Bul. My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
    Which findes it an inforced pilgrimage.
    555Gaun. The sullen passage of thy weary steps,
    Esteeme as foyle wherein thou art to set,
    The pretious Iewell of thy home returne.
    557.1Bul. Nay rather euery tedious stride I make,
    Will but remcmber me what a deale of world:
    I wander from the Iewels that I loue.
    Must I not serue a long apprentishood,
    557.5To forreine passages, and in the end,
    Hauing my freedome, boast of nothing else,
    But that I was a iourneyman to griefe.
    Gaun. All places that the eie of heauen visits,
    Are to a wiseman portes and happie hauens:
    557.10Teach thy necessity to reason thus,
    There is no vertue like necessity,
    Thinke not the King did banish thee,
    But thou the King. Woe doth the heauier sit,
    Where it perceiues it is but faintly borne:
    557.15Go, say I sent thee foorth to purchase honour,
    And not the King exilde thee; or suppose,
    Deuouring pestilence hangs in our aire,
    And thou art flying to a fresher clime:
    Looke what thy soule holds deare, imagine it
    557.20To ly that way thou goest, not whence thou comst:
    Suppose the singing birds musitions,
    The grasse whereon thou treadst, the presence strowd,
    The flowers, faire Ladies, and thy steps, no more
    Then a delightfull measure or a dance,
    557.25For gnarling sorrow hath lesse power to bite,
    The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.
    Bul. Oh who can hold a fier in his hand,
    By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
    560Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
    By bare imagination of a feast?
    Or wallow naked in December snow,
    By thinking on fantasticke sommers heate?
    Oh no, the apprehension of the good,
    565Giues but the greater feeling to the worse:
    Fell sorrowes tooth doth neuer ranckle more,
    Then when he bites, but launceth not the soare.
    Gaun. Come come my sonne Ile bring thee on thy way,
    Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
    570Bul. Then Englands ground farewell, sweet soile adiew,
    My mother and my nurse that beares me yet,
    Where eare I wander boast of this I can,
    Though banisht, yet a true borne English man. Exeunt.