diff --git "a/res/richardii.txt" "b/res/richardii.txt" new file mode 100644--- /dev/null +++ "b/res/richardii.txt" @@ -0,0 +1,4253 @@ +Richard II +by William Shakespeare + + +Characters in the Play +====================== +KING RICHARD II +Richard's friends: + Sir John BUSHY + Sir John BAGOT + Sir Henry GREEN +Richard's QUEEN +Queen's LADIES-IN-WAITING +JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster +HENRY BOLINGBROKE, Duke of HEREFORD, son to John of Gaunt, and later King Henry IV +DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, widow to Thomas, Duke of Gloucester +Edmund, DUKE OF YORK +DUCHESS OF YORK +DUKE OF AUMERLE, Earl of Rutland, son to Duke and Duchess of York +York's SERVINGMEN +Thomas MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk +Officials in trial by combat: + LORD MARSHAL + FIRST HERALD + SECOND HERALD +Supporters of King Richard: + EARL OF SALISBURY + BISHOP OF CARLISLE + SIR STEPHEN SCROOP + LORD BERKELEY + ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER + WELSH CAPTAIN +Supporters of Bolingbroke: + Henry Percy, EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND + LORD ROSS + LORD WILLOUGHBY + HARRY PERCY, son of Northumberland, later known as "Hotspur" +LORD FITZWATER +DUKE OF SURREY +ANOTHER LORD +GARDENER +Gardener's Servingmen +GROOM of Richard's stable +KEEPER of prison at Pomfret Castle +SIR PIERCE OF EXTON +Servingmen to Exton +Lords, Attendants, Officers, Soldiers, Servingmen, Exton's Men + + +ACT 1 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles +and Attendants.] + + +KING RICHARD +Old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster, +Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, +Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, +Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal, +Which then our leisure would not let us hear, +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +GAUNT I have, my liege. + +KING RICHARD +Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him +If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice +Or worthily, as a good subject should, +On some known ground of treachery in him? + +GAUNT +As near as I could sift him on that argument, +On some apparent danger seen in him +Aimed at your Highness, no inveterate malice. + +KING RICHARD +Then call them to our presence. +[An Attendant exits.] +Face to face +And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear +The accuser and the accused freely speak. +High stomached are they both and full of ire, +In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. + +[Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +Many years of happy days befall +My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege. + +MOWBRAY +Each day still better other's happiness +Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, +Add an immortal title to your crown. + +KING RICHARD +We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us, +As well appeareth by the cause you come: +Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. +Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object +Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? + +BOLINGBROKE +First--heaven be the record to my speech!-- +In the devotion of a subject's love, +Tend'ring the precious safety of my prince +And free from other misbegotten hate, +Come I appellant to this princely presence.-- +Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee; +And mark my greeting well, for what I speak +My body shall make good upon this earth +Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. +Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, +Too good to be so and too bad to live, +Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, +The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. +Once more, the more to aggravate the note, +With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat, +And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, +What my tongue speaks my right-drawn sword may +prove. + +MOWBRAY +Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal. +'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, +The bitter clamor of two eager tongues, +Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain. +The blood is hot that must be cooled for this. +Yet can I not of such tame patience boast +As to be hushed and naught at all to say. +First, the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me +From giving reins and spurs to my free speech, +Which else would post until it had returned +These terms of treason doubled down his throat. +Setting aside his high blood's royalty, +And let him be no kinsman to my liege, +I do defy him, and I spit at him, +Call him a slanderous coward and a villain, +Which to maintain I would allow him odds +And meet him, were I tied to run afoot +Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps +Or any other ground inhabitable +Wherever Englishman durst set his foot. +Meantime let this defend my loyalty: +By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. + +BOLINGBROKE, [throwing down a gage] +Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, +Disclaiming here the kindred of the King, +And lay aside my high blood's royalty, +Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. +If guilty dread have left thee so much strength +As to take up mine honor's pawn, then stoop. +By that and all the rites of knighthood else +Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, +What I have spoke or thou canst worse devise. + +MOWBRAY, [picking up the gage] +I take it up, and by that sword I swear +Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, +I'll answer thee in any fair degree +Or chivalrous design of knightly trial; +And when I mount, alive may I not light +If I be traitor or unjustly fight. + +KING RICHARD +What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? +It must be great that can inherit us +So much as of a thought of ill in him. + +BOLINGBROKE +Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true: +That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles +In name of lendings for your Highness' soldiers, +The which he hath detained for lewd employments, +Like a false traitor and injurious villain. +Besides I say, and will in battle prove, +Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge +That ever was surveyed by English eye, +That all the treasons for these eighteen years +Complotted and contrived in this land +Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and +spring. +Further I say, and further will maintain +Upon his bad life to make all this good, +That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, +Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, +And consequently, like a traitor coward, +Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of +blood, +Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries +Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth +To me for justice and rough chastisement. +And, by the glorious worth of my descent, +This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. + +KING RICHARD +How high a pitch his resolution soars!-- +Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this? + +MOWBRAY +O, let my sovereign turn away his face +And bid his ears a little while be deaf, +Till I have told this slander of his blood +How God and good men hate so foul a liar. + +KING RICHARD +Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. +Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, +As he is but my father's brother's son, +Now by my scepter's awe I make a vow: +Such neighbor nearness to our sacred blood +Should nothing privilege him nor partialize +The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. +He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou. +Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. + +MOWBRAY +Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, +Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. +Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais +Disbursed I duly to his Highness' soldiers; +The other part reserved I by consent, +For that my sovereign liege was in my debt +Upon remainder of a dear account +Since last I went to France to fetch his queen. +Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, +I slew him not, but to my own disgrace +Neglected my sworn duty in that case.-- +For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, +The honorable father to my foe, +Once did I lay an ambush for your life, +A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul. +But ere I last received the sacrament, +I did confess it and exactly begged +Your Grace's pardon, and I hope I had it.-- +This is my fault. As for the rest appealed, +It issues from the rancor of a villain, +A recreant and most degenerate traitor, +Which in myself I boldly will defend, +And interchangeably hurl down my gage +Upon this overweening traitor's foot, +[He throws down a gage.] +To prove myself a loyal gentleman, +Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom; +In haste whereof most heartily I pray +Your Highness to assign our trial day. +[Bolingbroke picks up the gage.] + +KING RICHARD +Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me. +Let's purge this choler without letting blood. +This we prescribe, though no physician. +Deep malice makes too deep incision. +Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed. +Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.-- +Good uncle, let this end where it begun; +We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. + +GAUNT +To be a make-peace shall become my age.-- +Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. + +KING RICHARD +And, Norfolk, throw down his. + +GAUNT When, Harry, when? +Obedience bids I should not bid again. + +KING RICHARD +Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. + +MOWBRAY +Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. +[Mowbray kneels.] +My life thou shalt command, but not my shame. +The one my duty owes, but my fair name, +Despite of death that lives upon my grave, +To dark dishonor's use thou shalt not have. +I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, +Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear, +The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood +Which breathed this poison. + +KING RICHARD Rage must be withstood. +Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame. + +MOWBRAY, [standing] +Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame +And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, +The purest treasure mortal times afford +Is spotless reputation; that away, +Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. +A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest +Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. +Mine honor is my life; both grow in one. +Take honor from me and my life is done. +Then, dear my liege, mine honor let me try. +In that I live, and for that will I die. + +KING RICHARD, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, throw up your gage. Do you begin. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! +Shall I seem crestfallen in my father's sight? +Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height +Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue +Shall wound my honor with such feeble wrong +Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear +The slavish motive of recanting fear +And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, +Where shame doth harbor, even in Mowbray's face. + +KING RICHARD +We were not born to sue, but to command, +Which, since we cannot do, to make you friends, +Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, +At Coventry upon Saint Lambert's day. +There shall your swords and lances arbitrate +The swelling difference of your settled hate. +Since we cannot atone you, we shall see +Justice design the victor's chivalry.-- +Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms +Be ready to direct these home alarms. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter John of Gaunt with the Duchess of Gloucester.] + + +GAUNT +Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood +Doth more solicit me than your exclaims +To stir against the butchers of his life. +But since correction lieth in those hands +Which made the fault that we cannot correct, +Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven, +Who, when they see the hours ripe on Earth, +Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. + +DUCHESS +Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? +Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? +Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, +Were as seven vials of his sacred blood +Or seven fair branches springing from one root. +Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, +Some of those branches by the Destinies cut. +But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, +One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, +One flourishing branch of his most royal root, +Is cracked and all the precious liquor spilt, +Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all faded, +By envy's hand and murder's bloody ax. +Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that +womb, +That metal, that self mold that fashioned thee +Made him a man; and though thou livest and +breathest, +Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent +In some large measure to thy father's death +In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, +Who was the model of thy father's life. +Call it not patience, Gaunt. It is despair. +In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered, +Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, +Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee. +That which in mean men we entitle patience +Is pale, cold cowardice in noble breasts. +What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life, +The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. + +GAUNT +God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute, +His deputy anointed in His sight, +Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully +Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift +An angry arm against His minister. + +DUCHESS +Where, then, alas, may I complain myself? + +GAUNT +To God, the widow's champion and defense. + +DUCHESS +Why then I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. +Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold +Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight. +O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, +That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! +Or if misfortune miss the first career, +Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom +That they may break his foaming courser's back +And throw the rider headlong in the lists, +A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! +Farewell, old Gaunt. Thy sometime brother's wife +With her companion, grief, must end her life. + +GAUNT +Sister, farewell. I must to Coventry. +As much good stay with thee as go with me. + +DUCHESS +Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls, +Not with the empty hollowness, but weight. +I take my leave before I have begun, +For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. +Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. +Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so! +Though this be all, do not so quickly go; +I shall remember more. Bid him--ah, what?-- +With all good speed at Plashy visit me. +Alack, and what shall good old York there see +But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls, +Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? +And what hear there for welcome but my groans? +Therefore commend me; let him not come there +To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere. +Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die. +The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aumerle.] + + +MARSHAL +My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed? + +AUMERLE +Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in. + +MARSHAL +The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, +Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. + +AUMERLE +Why then, the champions are prepared and stay +For nothing but his Majesty's approach. + +[The trumpets sound and the King enters with his Nobles +and Officers; when they are set, enter Mowbray, the +Duke of Norfolk in arms, defendant, with a Herald.] + + +KING RICHARD +Marshal, demand of yonder champion +The cause of his arrival here in arms, +Ask him his name, and orderly proceed +To swear him in the justice of his cause. + +MARSHAL, [to Mowbray] +In God's name and the King's, say who thou art +And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, +Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel. +Speak truly on thy knighthood and thy oath, +As so defend thee heaven and thy valor. + +MOWBRAY +My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +Who hither come engaged by my oath-- +Which God defend a knight should violate!-- +Both to defend my loyalty and truth +To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, +Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me, +And by the grace of God and this mine arm +To prove him, in defending of myself, +A traitor to my God, my king, and me; +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. + +[The trumpets sound. Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of +Hereford, appellant, in armor, with a Herald.] + + +KING RICHARD Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms +Both who he is and why he cometh hither +Thus plated in habiliments of war, +And formally, according to our law, +Depose him in the justice of his cause. + +MARSHAL, [to Bolingbroke] +What is thy name? And wherefore com'st thou hither, +Before King Richard in his royal lists? +Against whom comest thou? And what's thy quarrel? +Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven. + +BOLINGBROKE +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +Am I, who ready here do stand in arms +To prove, by God's grace and my body's valor, +In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +That he is a traitor foul and dangerous +To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me. +And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. + +MARSHAL +On pain of death, no person be so bold +Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, +Except the Marshal and such officers +Appointed to direct these fair designs. + +BOLINGBROKE +Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand +And bow my knee before his Majesty; +For Mowbray and myself are like two men +That vow a long and weary pilgrimage. +Then let us take a ceremonious leave +And loving farewell of our several friends. + +MARSHAL, [to King Richard] +The appellant in all duty greets your Highness +And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. + +KING RICHARD, [coming down] +We will descend and fold him in our arms. +[He embraces Bolingbroke.] +Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, +So be thy fortune in this royal fight. +Farewell, my blood--which, if today thou shed, +Lament we may but not revenge thee dead. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, let no noble eye profane a tear +For me if I be gored with Mowbray's spear. +As confident as is the falcon's flight +Against a bird do I with Mowbray fight. +My loving lord, I take my leave of you.-- +Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; +Not sick, although I have to do with death, +But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.-- +Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet +The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. +O, thou the earthly author of my blood, +Whose youthful spirit in me regenerate +Doth with a twofold vigor lift me up +To reach at victory above my head, +Add proof unto mine armor with thy prayers, +And with thy blessings steel my lance's point +That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat +And furbish new the name of John o' Gaunt, +Even in the lusty havior of his son. + +GAUNT +God in thy good cause make thee prosperous. +Be swift like lightning in the execution, +And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, +Fall like amazing thunder on the casque +Of thy adverse pernicious enemy. +Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live. + +BOLINGBROKE +Mine innocence and Saint George to thrive! + +MOWBRAY +However God or fortune cast my lot, +There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, +A loyal, just, and upright gentleman. +Never did captive with a freer heart +Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace +His golden uncontrolled enfranchisement +More than my dancing soul doth celebrate +This feast of battle with mine adversary. +Most mighty liege and my companion peers, +Take from my mouth the wish of happy years. +As gentle and as jocund as to jest +Go I to fight. Truth hath a quiet breast. + +KING RICHARD +Farewell, my lord. Securely I espy +Virtue with valor couched in thine eye.-- +Order the trial, marshal, and begin. + +MARSHAL +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, +Receive thy lance; and God defend the right. +[He presents a lance to Bolingbroke.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Strong as a tower in hope, I cry "Amen!" + +MARSHAL, [to an Officer] +Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. +[An Officer presents a lance to Mowbray.] + +FIRST HERALD +Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, +A traitor to his God, his king, and him, +And dares him to set forward to the fight. + +SECOND HERALD +Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, +On pain to be found false and recreant, +Both to defend himself and to approve +Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby +To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal, +Courageously and with a free desire +Attending but the signal to begin. + +MARSHAL +Sound, trumpets, and set forward, combatants. +[Trumpets sound. Richard throws down his warder.] +Stay! The King hath thrown his warder down. + +KING RICHARD +Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, +And both return back to their chairs again. +[To his council.] Withdraw with us, and let the +trumpets sound +While we return these dukes what we decree. +[Trumpets sound while Richard consults with Gaunt +and other Nobles.] +[To Bolingbroke and Mowbray.] Draw near, +And list what with our council we have done. +For that our kingdom's earth should not be soiled +With that dear blood which it hath fostered; +And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect +Of civil wounds plowed up with neighbor's sword; +And for we think the eagle-winged pride +Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, +With rival-hating envy, set on you +To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle +Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep, +Which, so roused up with boist'rous untuned +drums, +With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, +And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, +Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace +And make us wade even in our kindred's blood: +Therefore we banish you our territories. +You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, +Till twice five summers have enriched our fields +Shall not regreet our fair dominions, +But tread the stranger paths of banishment. + +BOLINGBROKE +Your will be done. This must my comfort be: +That sun that warms you here shall shine on me, +And those his golden beams to you here lent +Shall point on me and gild my banishment. + +KING RICHARD +Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, +Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: +The sly, slow hours shall not determinate +The dateless limit of thy dear exile. +The hopeless word of "never to return" +Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. + +MOWBRAY +A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, +And all unlooked-for from your Highness' mouth. +A dearer merit, not so deep a maim +As to be cast forth in the common air, +Have I deserved at your Highness' hands. +The language I have learnt these forty years, +My native English, now I must forgo; +And now my tongue's use is to me no more +Than an unstringed viol or a harp, +Or like a cunning instrument cased up, +Or, being open, put into his hands +That knows no touch to tune the harmony. +Within my mouth you have enjailed my tongue, +Doubly portcullised with my teeth and lips, +And dull unfeeling barren ignorance +Is made my jailor to attend on me. +I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, +Too far in years to be a pupil now. +What is thy sentence then but speechless death, +Which robs my tongue from breathing native +breath? + +KING RICHARD +It boots thee not to be compassionate. +After our sentence plaining comes too late. + +MOWBRAY +Then thus I turn me from my country's light, +To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. +[He begins to exit.] + +KING RICHARD +Return again, and take an oath with thee. +[To Mowbray and Bolingbroke.] Lay on our royal +sword your banished hands. +[They place their right hands on the hilts of +Richard's sword.] +Swear by the duty that you owe to God-- +Our part therein we banish with yourselves-- +To keep the oath that we administer: +You never shall, so help you truth and God, +Embrace each other's love in banishment, +Nor never look upon each other's face, +Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile +This louring tempest of your homebred hate, +Nor never by advised purpose meet +To plot, contrive, or complot any ill +'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. + +BOLINGBROKE I swear. + +MOWBRAY And I, to keep all this. +[They step back.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy: +By this time, had the King permitted us, +One of our souls had wandered in the air, +Banished this frail sepulcher of our flesh, +As now our flesh is banished from this land. +Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm. +Since thou hast far to go, bear not along +The clogging burden of a guilty soul. + +MOWBRAY +No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, +My name be blotted from the book of life, +And I from heaven banished as from hence. +But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know, +And all too soon, I fear, the King shall rue.-- +Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; +Save back to England, all the world's my way. +[He exits.] + +KING RICHARD, [to Gaunt] +Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes +I see thy grieved heart. Thy sad aspect +Hath from the number of his banished years +Plucked four away. [To Bolingbroke.] Six frozen +winters spent, +Return with welcome home from banishment. + +BOLINGBROKE +How long a time lies in one little word! +Four lagging winters and four wanton springs +End in a word; such is the breath of kings. + +GAUNT +I thank my liege that in regard of me +He shortens four years of my son's exile. +But little vantage shall I reap thereby; +For, ere the six years that he hath to spend +Can change their moons and bring their times +about, +My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light +Shall be extinct with age and endless night; +My inch of taper will be burnt and done, +And blindfold death not let me see my son. + +KING RICHARD +Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. + +GAUNT +But not a minute, king, that thou canst give. +Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, +And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow. +Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, +But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage. +Thy word is current with him for my death, +But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. + +KING RICHARD +Thy son is banished upon good advice, +Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave. +Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? + +GAUNT +Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. +You urged me as a judge, but I had rather +You would have bid me argue like a father. +O, had it been a stranger, not my child, +To smooth his fault I should have been more mild. +A partial slander sought I to avoid, +And in the sentence my own life destroyed. +Alas, I looked when some of you should say +I was too strict, to make mine own away. +But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue +Against my will to do myself this wrong. + +KING RICHARD, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, farewell.--And, uncle, bid him so. +Six years we banish him, and he shall go. +[Flourish. King Richard exits with his Attendants.] + +AUMERLE, [to Bolingbroke] +Cousin, farewell. What presence must not know, +From where you do remain let paper show. + +MARSHAL, [to Bolingbroke] +My lord, no leave take I, for I will ride, +As far as land will let me, by your side. + +GAUNT, [to Bolingbroke] +O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, +That thou returnest no greeting to thy friends? + +BOLINGBROKE +I have too few to take my leave of you, +When the tongue's office should be prodigal +To breathe the abundant dolor of the heart. + +GAUNT +Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. + +BOLINGBROKE +Joy absent, grief is present for that time. + +GAUNT +What is six winters? They are quickly gone. + +BOLINGBROKE +To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. + +GAUNT +Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure. + +BOLINGBROKE +My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, +Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. + +GAUNT +The sullen passage of thy weary steps +Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set +The precious jewel of thy home return. + +BOLINGBROKE +Nay, rather every tedious stride I make +Will but remember me what a deal of world +I wander from the jewels that I love. +Must I not serve a long apprenticehood +To foreign passages, and in the end, +Having my freedom, boast of nothing else +But that I was a journeyman to grief? + +GAUNT +All places that the eye of heaven visits +Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. +Teach thy necessity to reason thus: +There is no virtue like necessity. +Think not the King did banish thee, +But thou the King. Woe doth the heavier sit +Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. +Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honor, +And not the King exiled thee; or suppose +Devouring pestilence hangs in our air +And thou art flying to a fresher clime. +Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it +To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com'st. +Suppose the singing birds musicians, +The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence +strewed, +The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more +Than a delightful measure or a dance; +For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite +The man that mocks at it and sets it light. + +BOLINGBROKE +O, who can hold a fire in his hand +By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? +Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite +By bare imagination of a feast? +Or wallow naked in December snow +By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? +O no, the apprehension of the good +Gives but the greater feeling to the worse. +Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more +Than when he bites but lanceth not the sore. + +GAUNT +Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way. +Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. + +BOLINGBROKE +Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu, +My mother and my nurse that bears me yet. +Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, +Though banished, yet a trueborn Englishman. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the King with Green and Bagot, at one door, +and the Lord Aumerle at another.] + + +KING RICHARD We did observe.--Cousin Aumerle, +How far brought you high Hereford on his way? + +AUMERLE +I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, +But to the next highway, and there I left him. + +KING RICHARD +And say, what store of parting tears were shed? + +AUMERLE +Faith, none for me, except the northeast wind, +Which then blew bitterly against our faces, +Awaked the sleeping rheum and so by chance +Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. + +KING RICHARD +What said our cousin when you parted with him? + +AUMERLE "Farewell." +And, for my heart disdained that my tongue +Should so profane the word, that taught me craft +To counterfeit oppression of such grief +That words seemed buried in my sorrow's grave. +Marry, would the word "farewell" have lengthened +hours +And added years to his short banishment, +He should have had a volume of farewells. +But since it would not, he had none of me. + +KING RICHARD +He is our cousin, cousin, but 'tis doubt, +When time shall call him home from banishment, +Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. +Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green, +Observed his courtship to the common people, +How he did seem to dive into their hearts +With humble and familiar courtesy, +What reverence he did throw away on slaves, +Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles +And patient underbearing of his fortune, +As 'twere to banish their affects with him. +Off goes his bonnet to an oysterwench; +A brace of draymen bid God speed him well +And had the tribute of his supple knee, +With "Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends," +As were our England in reversion his +And he our subjects' next degree in hope. + +GREEN +Well, he is gone, and with him go these thoughts. +Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, +Expedient manage must be made, my liege, +Ere further leisure yield them further means +For their advantage and your Highness' loss. + +KING RICHARD +We will ourself in person to this war. +And, for our coffers, with too great a court +And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, +We are enforced to farm our royal realm, +The revenue whereof shall furnish us +For our affairs in hand. If that come short, +Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters, +Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, +They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold +And send them after to supply our wants, +For we will make for Ireland presently. + +[Enter Bushy.] + +Bushy, what news? + +BUSHY +Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, +Suddenly taken, and hath sent posthaste +To entreat your Majesty to visit him. + +KING RICHARD Where lies he? + +BUSHY At Ely House. + +KING RICHARD +Now put it, God, in the physician's mind +To help him to his grave immediately! +The lining of his coffers shall make coats +To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. +Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him. +Pray God we may make haste and come too late. + +ALL Amen! +[They exit.] + + +ACT 2 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter John of Gaunt sick, with the Duke of York, and +Attendants.] + + +GAUNT +Will the King come, that I may breathe my last +In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? + +YORK +Vex not yourself nor strive not with your breath, +For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. + +GAUNT +O, but they say the tongues of dying men +Enforce attention like deep harmony. +Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in +vain, +For they breathe truth that breathe their words in +pain. +He that no more must say is listened more + Than they whom youth and ease have taught to + gloze. +More are men's ends marked than their lives before. + The setting sun and music at the close, +As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last, +Writ in remembrance more than things long past. +Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, +My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. + +YORK +No, it is stopped with other flattering sounds, +As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond; +Lascivious meters, to whose venom sound +The open ear of youth doth always listen; +Report of fashions in proud Italy, +Whose manners still our tardy-apish nation +Limps after in base imitation. +Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity-- +So it be new, there's no respect how vile-- +That is not quickly buzzed into his ears? +Then all too late comes counsel to be heard +Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. +Direct not him whose way himself will choose. +'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou +lose. + +GAUNT +Methinks I am a prophet new inspired +And thus expiring do foretell of him: +His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, +For violent fires soon burn out themselves; +Small showers last long, but sudden storms are +short; +He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; +With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder; +Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, +Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. +This royal throne of kings, this sceptered isle, +This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, +This other Eden, demi-paradise, +This fortress built by Nature for herself +Against infection and the hand of war, +This happy breed of men, this little world, +This precious stone set in the silver sea, +Which serves it in the office of a wall +Or as a moat defensive to a house, +Against the envy of less happier lands, +This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this +England, +This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, +Feared by their breed and famous by their birth, +Renowned for their deeds as far from home +For Christian service and true chivalry +As is the sepulcher in stubborn Jewry +Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son, +This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, +Dear for her reputation through the world, +Is now leased out--I die pronouncing it-- +Like to a tenement or pelting farm. +England, bound in with the triumphant sea, +Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege +Of wat'ry Neptune, is now bound in with shame, +With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds. +That England that was wont to conquer others +Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. +Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life, +How happy then were my ensuing death! + +[Enter King and Queen, Aumerle, Bushy, Green, Bagot, +Ross, Willoughby, etc.] + + +YORK +The King is come. Deal mildly with his youth, +For young hot colts being reined do rage the more. + +QUEEN, [to Gaunt] +How fares our noble uncle Lancaster? + +KING RICHARD, [to Gaunt] +What comfort, man? How is 't with aged Gaunt? + +GAUNT +O, how that name befits my composition! +Old Gaunt indeed and gaunt in being old. +Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast, +And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? +For sleeping England long time have I watched; +Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt. +The pleasure that some fathers feed upon +Is my strict fast--I mean my children's looks-- +And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt. +Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, +Whose hollow womb inherits naught but bones. + +KING RICHARD +Can sick men play so nicely with their names? + +GAUNT +No, misery makes sport to mock itself. +Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, +I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. + +KING RICHARD +Should dying men flatter with those that live? + +GAUNT +No, no, men living flatter those that die. + +KING RICHARD +Thou, now a-dying, sayest thou flatterest me. + +GAUNT +O, no, thou diest, though I the sicker be. + +KING RICHARD +I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. + +GAUNT +Now He that made me knows I see thee ill, +Ill in myself to see, and in thee, seeing ill. +Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land, +Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; +And thou, too careless-patient as thou art, +Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure +Of those physicians that first wounded thee. +A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, +Whose compass is no bigger than thy head, +And yet encaged in so small a verge, +The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. +O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye +Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, +From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame, +Deposing thee before thou wert possessed, +Which art possessed now to depose thyself. +Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, +It were a shame to let this land by lease; +But, for thy world enjoying but this land, +Is it not more than shame to shame it so? +Landlord of England art thou now, not king. +Thy state of law is bondslave to the law, +And thou-- + +KING RICHARD A lunatic lean-witted fool, +Presuming on an ague's privilege, +Darest with thy frozen admonition +Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood +With fury from his native residence. +Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, +Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, +This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head +Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders. + +GAUNT +O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, +For that I was his father Edward's son! +That blood already, like the pelican, +Hast thou tapped out and drunkenly caroused. +My brother Gloucester--plain, well-meaning soul, +Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls-- +May be a precedent and witness good +That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood. +Join with the present sickness that I have, +And thy unkindness be like crooked age +To crop at once a too-long withered flower. +Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! +These words hereafter thy tormentors be!-- +Convey me to my bed, then to my grave. +Love they to live that love and honor have. +[He exits, carried off by Attendants.] + +KING RICHARD +And let them die that age and sullens have, +For both hast thou, and both become the grave. + +YORK +I do beseech your Majesty, impute his words +To wayward sickliness and age in him. +He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear +As Harry, Duke of Hereford, were he here. + +KING RICHARD +Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; +As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty. + +KING RICHARD +What says he? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Nay, nothing; all is said. +His tongue is now a stringless instrument; +Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. + +YORK +Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! +Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. + +KING RICHARD +The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; +His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. +So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: +We must supplant those rough rugheaded kern, +Which live like venom where no venom else +But only they have privilege to live. +And, for these great affairs do ask some charge, +Towards our assistance we do seize to us +The plate, coin, revenues, and movables +Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possessed. + +YORK +How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long +Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? +Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment, +Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, +Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke +About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, +Have ever made me sour my patient cheek +Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. +I am the last of noble Edward's sons, +Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first. +In war was never lion raged more fierce, +In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, +Than was that young and princely gentleman. +His face thou hast, for even so looked he, +Accomplished with the number of thy hours; +But when he frowned, it was against the French +And not against his friends. His noble hand +Did win what he did spend, and spent not that +Which his triumphant father's hand had won. +His hands were guilty of no kindred blood, +But bloody with the enemies of his kin. +O, Richard! York is too far gone with grief, +Or else he never would compare between. + +KING RICHARD +Why, uncle, what's the matter? + +YORK O, my liege, +Pardon me if you please. If not, I, pleased +Not to be pardoned, am content withal. +Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands +The royalties and rights of banished Hereford? +Is not Gaunt dead? And doth not Hereford live? +Was not Gaunt just? And is not Harry true? +Did not the one deserve to have an heir? +Is not his heir a well-deserving son? +Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time +His charters and his customary rights; +Let not tomorrow then ensue today; +Be not thyself; for how art thou a king +But by fair sequence and succession? +Now afore God--God forbid I say true!-- +If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, +Call in the letters patents that he hath +By his attorneys general to sue +His livery, and deny his offered homage, +You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, +You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, +And prick my tender patience to those thoughts +Which honor and allegiance cannot think. + +KING RICHARD +Think what you will, we seize into our hands +His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. + +YORK +I'll not be by the while. My liege, farewell. +What will ensue hereof there's none can tell; +But by bad courses may be understood +That their events can never fall out good. [He exits.] + +KING RICHARD +Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight. +Bid him repair to us to Ely House +To see this business. Tomorrow next +We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow. +And we create, in absence of ourself, +Our uncle York Lord Governor of England, +For he is just and always loved us well.-- +Come on, our queen. Tomorrow must we part. +Be merry, for our time of stay is short. +[King and Queen exit with others; +Northumberland, Willoughby, and Ross remain.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. + +ROSS +And living too, for now his son is duke. + +WILLOUGHBY +Barely in title, not in revenues. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Richly in both, if justice had her right. + +ROSS +My heart is great, but it must break with silence +Ere 't be disburdened with a liberal tongue. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Nay, speak thy mind, and let him ne'er speak more +That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! + +WILLOUGHBY, [to Ross] +Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of +Hereford? +If it be so, out with it boldly, man. +Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. + +ROSS +No good at all that I can do for him, +Unless you call it good to pity him, +Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne +In him, a royal prince, and many more +Of noble blood in this declining land. +The King is not himself, but basely led +By flatterers; and what they will inform +Merely in hate 'gainst any of us all, +That will the King severely prosecute +'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. + +ROSS +The commons hath he pilled with grievous taxes, +And quite lost their hearts. The nobles hath he fined +For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. + +WILLOUGHBY +And daily new exactions are devised, +As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what. +But what i' God's name doth become of this? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Wars hath not wasted it, for warred he hath not, +But basely yielded upon compromise +That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows. +More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. + +ROSS +The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. + +WILLOUGHBY +The King grown bankrupt like a broken man. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. + +ROSS +He hath not money for these Irish wars, +His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, +But by the robbing of the banished duke. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +His noble kinsman. Most degenerate king! +But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, +Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm; +We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, +And yet we strike not, but securely perish. + +ROSS +We see the very wrack that we must suffer, +And unavoided is the danger now +For suffering so the causes of our wrack. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Not so. Even through the hollow eyes of death +I spy life peering; but I dare not say +How near the tidings of our comfort is. + +WILLOUGHBY +Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. + +ROSS +Be confident to speak, Northumberland. +We three are but thyself, and speaking so +Thy words are but as thoughts. Therefore be bold. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then thus: I have from Le Port Blanc, +A bay in Brittany, received intelligence +That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord +Cobham, +That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, +His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, +Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, +Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis +Coint-- +All these well furnished by the Duke of Brittany +With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, +Are making hither with all due expedience +And shortly mean to touch our northern shore. +Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay +The first departing of the King for Ireland. +If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, +Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, +Redeem from broking pawn the blemished crown, +Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt, +And make high majesty look like itself, +Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh. +But if you faint, as fearing to do so, +Stay and be secret, and myself will go. + +ROSS +To horse, to horse! Urge doubts to them that fear. + +WILLOUGHBY +Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter the Queen, Bushy, and Bagot.] + + +BUSHY +Madam, your Majesty is too much sad. +You promised, when you parted with the King, +To lay aside life-harming heaviness +And entertain a cheerful disposition. + +QUEEN +To please the King I did; to please myself +I cannot do it. Yet I know no cause +Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, +Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest +As my sweet Richard. Yet again methinks +Some unborn sorrow ripe in Fortune's womb +Is coming towards me, and my inward soul +With nothing trembles. At some thing it grieves +More than with parting from my lord the King. + +BUSHY +Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows +Which shows like grief itself but is not so; +For sorrow's eyes, glazed with blinding tears, +Divides one thing entire to many objects, +Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon +Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry +Distinguish form. So your sweet Majesty, +Looking awry upon your lord's departure, +Find shapes of grief more than himself to wail, +Which, looked on as it is, is naught but shadows +Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, +More than your lord's departure weep not. More is +not seen, +Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, +Which for things true weeps things imaginary. + +QUEEN +It may be so, but yet my inward soul +Persuades me it is otherwise. Howe'er it be, +I cannot but be sad--so heavy sad +As thought, on thinking on no thought I think, +Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. + +BUSHY +'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. + +QUEEN +'Tis nothing less. Conceit is still derived +From some forefather grief. Mine is not so, +For nothing hath begot my something grief-- +Or something hath the nothing that I grieve. +'Tis in reversion that I do possess, +But what it is that is not yet known what, +I cannot name. 'Tis nameless woe, I wot. + +[Enter Green.] + + +GREEN +God save your Majesty!--And well met, gentlemen. +I hope the King is not yet shipped for Ireland. + +QUEEN +Why hopest thou so? 'Tis better hope he is, +For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope. +Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipped? + +GREEN +That he, our hope, might have retired his power +And driven into despair an enemy's hope, +Who strongly hath set footing in this land. +The banished Bolingbroke repeals himself +And with uplifted arms is safe arrived +At Ravenspurgh. + +QUEEN Now God in heaven forbid! + +GREEN +Ah, madam, 'tis too true. And that is worse, +The Lord Northumberland, his son young Harry +Percy, +The Lords of Ross, Beaumont, and Willoughby, +With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. + +BUSHY +Why have you not proclaimed Northumberland +And all the rest revolted faction traitors? + +GREEN +We have; whereupon the Earl of Worcester +Hath broken his staff, resigned his stewardship, +And all the Household servants fled with him +To Bolingbroke. + +QUEEN +So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, +And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir. +Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, +And I, a gasping new-delivered mother, +Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow joined. + +BUSHY +Despair not, madam. + +QUEEN Who shall hinder me? +I will despair and be at enmity +With cozening hope. He is a flatterer, +A parasite, a keeper-back of death, +Who gently would dissolve the bands of life +Which false hope lingers in extremity. + +[Enter York.] + + +GREEN Here comes the Duke of York. + +QUEEN +With signs of war about his aged neck. +O, full of careful business are his looks!-- +Uncle, for God's sake speak comfortable words. + +YORK +Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts. +Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the Earth, +Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief. +Your husband, he is gone to save far off +Whilst others come to make him lose at home. +Here am I left to underprop his land, +Who, weak with age, cannot support myself. +Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; +Now shall he try his friends that flattered him. + +[Enter a Servingman.] + + +SERVINGMAN +My lord, your son was gone before I came. + +YORK +He was? Why, so go all which way it will. +The nobles they are fled; the commons they are +cold +And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. +Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; +Bid her send me presently a thousand pound. +Hold, take my ring. + +SERVINGMAN +My lord, I had forgot to tell your Lordship: +Today as I came by I called there-- +But I shall grieve you to report the rest. + +YORK What is 't, knave? + +SERVINGMAN +An hour before I came, the Duchess died. + +YORK +God for His mercy, what a tide of woes +Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! +I know not what to do. I would to God, +So my untruth had not provoked him to it, +The King had cut off my head with my brother's! +What, are there no posts dispatched for Ireland? +How shall we do for money for these wars?-- +Come, sister--cousin I would say, pray pardon +me.-- +Go, fellow, get thee home. Provide some carts +And bring away the armor that is there. +[Servingman exits.] +Gentlemen, will you go muster men? +If I know how or which way to order these affairs +Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, +Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen. +T' one is my sovereign, whom both my oath +And duty bids defend; t' other again +Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wronged, +Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. +Well, somewhat we must do. [To Queen.] Come, +cousin, +I'll dispose of you.--Gentlemen, go muster up your +men +And meet me presently at Berkeley. +I should to Plashy too, +But time will not permit. All is uneven, +And everything is left at six and seven. +[Duke of York and Queen exit. +Bushy, Green, and Bagot remain.] + +BUSHY +The wind sits fair for news to go for Ireland, +But none returns. For us to levy power +Proportionable to the enemy +Is all unpossible. + +GREEN +Besides, our nearness to the King in love +Is near the hate of those love not the King. + +BAGOT +And that is the wavering commons, for their love +Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them +By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. + +BUSHY +Wherein the King stands generally condemned. + +BAGOT +If judgment lie in them, then so do we, +Because we ever have been near the King. + +GREEN +Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristow Castle. +The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. + +BUSHY +Thither will I with you, for little office +Will the hateful commons perform for us, +Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.-- +Will you go along with us? + +BAGOT +No, I will to Ireland to his Majesty. +Farewell. If heart's presages be not vain, +We three here part that ne'er shall meet again. + +BUSHY +That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. + +GREEN +Alas, poor duke, the task he undertakes +Is numb'ring sands and drinking oceans dry. +Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. +Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. + +BUSHY +Well, we may meet again. + +BAGOT I fear me, never. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, and +Northumberland.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Believe me, noble lord, +I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire. +These high wild hills and rough uneven ways +Draws out our miles and makes them wearisome. +And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, +Making the hard way sweet and delectable. +But I bethink me what a weary way +From Ravenspurgh to Cotshall will be found +In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company, +Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled +The tediousness and process of my travel. +But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have +The present benefit which I possess, +And hope to joy is little less in joy +Than hope enjoyed. By this the weary lords +Shall make their way seem short as mine hath done +By sight of what I have, your noble company. + +BOLINGBROKE +Of much less value is my company +Than your good words. But who comes here? + +[Enter Harry Percy.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND It is my son, young Harry Percy, +Sent from my brother Worcester whencesoever.-- +Harry, how fares your uncle? + +PERCY +I had thought, my lord, to have learned his health of +you. + +NORTHUMBERLAND Why, is he not with the Queen? + +PERCY +No, my good lord, he hath forsook the court, +Broken his staff of office, and dispersed +The Household of the King. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +What was his reason? He was not so resolved +When last we spake together. + +PERCY +Because your Lordship was proclaimed traitor. +But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh +To offer service to the Duke of Hereford, +And sent me over by Berkeley to discover +What power the Duke of York had levied there, +Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy? + +PERCY +No, my good lord, for that is not forgot +Which ne'er I did remember. To my knowledge +I never in my life did look on him. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Then learn to know him now. This is the Duke. + +PERCY, [to Bolingbroke] +My gracious lord, I tender you my service, +Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young, +Which elder days shall ripen and confirm +To more approved service and desert. + +BOLINGBROKE +I thank thee, gentle Percy, and be sure +I count myself in nothing else so happy +As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; +And as my fortune ripens with thy love, +It shall be still thy true love's recompense. +My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. +[Gives Percy his hand.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to Percy] +How far is it to Berkeley, and what stir +Keeps good old York there with his men of war? + +PERCY +There stands the castle by yon tuft of trees, +Manned with three hundred men, as I have heard, +And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and +Seymour, +None else of name and noble estimate. + +[Enter Ross and Willoughby.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby, +Bloody with spurring, fiery red with haste. + +BOLINGBROKE +Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues +A banished traitor. All my treasury +Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enriched, +Shall be your love and labor's recompense. + +ROSS +Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. + +WILLOUGHBY +And far surmounts our labor to attain it. + +BOLINGBROKE +Evermore thank's the exchequer of the poor, +Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, +Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? + +[Enter Berkeley.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess. + +BERKELEY, [to Bolingbroke] +My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you. + +BOLINGBROKE +My lord, my answer is--to "Lancaster"; +And I am come to seek that name in England. +And I must find that title in your tongue +Before I make reply to aught you say. + +BERKELEY +Mistake me not, my lord, 'tis not my meaning +To rase one title of your honor out. +To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will, +From the most gracious regent of this land, +The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on +To take advantage of the absent time, +And fright our native peace with self-borne arms. + +[Enter York.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +I shall not need transport my words by you. +Here comes his Grace in person. [He kneels.] +My noble uncle. + +YORK +Show me thy humble heart and not thy knee, +Whose duty is deceivable and false. + +BOLINGBROKE, [standing] My gracious uncle-- + +YORK Tut, tut! +Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle. +I am no traitor's uncle, and that word "grace" +In an ungracious mouth is but profane. +Why have those banished and forbidden legs +Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground? +But then, more why: why have they dared to march +So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, +Frighting her pale-faced villages with war +And ostentation of despised arms? +Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence? +Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind +And in my loyal bosom lies his power. +Were I but now lord of such hot youth +As when brave Gaunt thy father and myself +Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men, +From forth the ranks of many thousand French, +O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine, +Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee +And minister correction to thy fault! + +BOLINGBROKE +My gracious uncle, let me know my fault. +On what condition stands it and wherein? + +YORK +Even in condition of the worst degree, +In gross rebellion and detested treason. +Thou art a banished man and here art come, +Before the expiration of thy time, +In braving arms against thy sovereign. + +BOLINGBROKE +As I was banished, I was banished Hereford, +But as I come, I come for Lancaster. +And, noble uncle, I beseech your Grace +Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye. +You are my father, for methinks in you +I see old Gaunt alive. O, then, my father, +Will you permit that I shall stand condemned +A wandering vagabond, my rights and royalties +Plucked from my arms perforce and given away +To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born? +If that my cousin king be king in England, +It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster. +You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin. +Had you first died and he been thus trod down, +He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father +To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay. +I am denied to sue my livery here, +And yet my letters patents give me leave. +My father's goods are all distrained and sold, +And these, and all, are all amiss employed. +What would you have me do? I am a subject, +And I challenge law. Attorneys are denied me, +And therefore personally I lay my claim +To my inheritance of free descent. + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [to York] +The noble duke hath been too much abused. + +ROSS, [to York] +It stands your Grace upon to do him right. + +WILLOUGHBY, [to York] +Base men by his endowments are made great. + +YORK +My lords of England, let me tell you this: +I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs +And labored all I could to do him right. +But in this kind to come, in braving arms, +Be his own carver and cut out his way +To find out right with wrong, it may not be. +And you that do abet him in this kind +Cherish rebellion and are rebels all. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The noble duke hath sworn his coming is +But for his own, and for the right of that +We all have strongly sworn to give him aid. +And let him never see joy that breaks that oath. + +YORK +Well, well. I see the issue of these arms. +I cannot mend it, I must needs confess, +Because my power is weak and all ill-left. +But if I could, by Him that gave me life, +I would attach you all and make you stoop +Unto the sovereign mercy of the King. +But since I cannot, be it known unto you +I do remain as neuter. So fare you well-- +Unless you please to enter in the castle +And there repose you for this night. + +BOLINGBROKE +An offer, uncle, that we will accept. +But we must win your Grace to go with us +To Bristow Castle, which they say is held +By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices, +The caterpillars of the commonwealth, +Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away. + +YORK +It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause, +For I am loath to break our country's laws. +Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are. +Things past redress are now with me past care. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Earl of Salisbury and a Welsh Captain.] + + +WELSH CAPTAIN +My Lord of Salisbury, we have stayed ten days +And hardly kept our countrymen together, +And yet we hear no tidings from the King. +Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewell. + +SALISBURY +Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman. +The King reposeth all his confidence in thee. + +WELSH CAPTAIN +'Tis thought the King is dead. We will not stay. +The bay trees in our country are all withered, +And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; +The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the Earth, +And lean-looked prophets whisper fearful change; +Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, +The one in fear to lose what they enjoy, +The other to enjoy by rage and war. +These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. +Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled, +As well assured Richard their king is dead. +[He exits.] + +SALISBURY +Ah, Richard! With the eyes of heavy mind +I see thy glory like a shooting star +Fall to the base earth from the firmament. +Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, +Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest. +Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes, +And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. +[He exits.] + + +ACT 3 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, York, +Northumberland, with other Lords, and Bushy and +Green prisoners.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Bring forth these men.-- +Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls, +Since presently your souls must part your bodies, +With too much urging your pernicious lives, +For 'twere no charity; yet to wash your blood +From off my hands, here in the view of men +I will unfold some causes of your deaths: +You have misled a prince, a royal king, +A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments +By you unhappied and disfigured clean. +You have in manner with your sinful hours +Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him, +Broke the possession of a royal bed, +And stained the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks +With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. +Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth, +Near to the King in blood, and near in love +Till you did make him misinterpret me, +Have stooped my neck under your injuries +And sighed my English breath in foreign clouds, +Eating the bitter bread of banishment, +Whilst you have fed upon my seigniories, +Disparked my parks and felled my forest woods, +From my own windows torn my household coat, +Rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign, +Save men's opinions and my living blood, +To show the world I am a gentleman. +This and much more, much more than twice all +this, +Condemns you to the death.--See them delivered +over +To execution and the hand of death. + +BUSHY +More welcome is the stroke of death to me +Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell. + +GREEN +My comfort is that heaven will take our souls +And plague injustice with the pains of hell. + +BOLINGBROKE +My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatched. [Northumberland exits with Bushy and Green.] +[To York.] Uncle, you say the Queen is at your +house. +For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated. +Tell her I send to her my kind commends. +Take special care my greetings be delivered. + +YORK +A gentleman of mine I have dispatched +With letters of your love to her at large. + +BOLINGBROKE +Thanks, gentle uncle.--Come, lords, away, +To fight with Glendower and his complices. +A while to work, and after holiday. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Drums. Flourish and colors. Enter the King, Aumerle, +Carlisle, and Soldiers.] + + +KING RICHARD +Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand? + +AUMERLE +Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air +After your late tossing on the breaking seas? + +KING RICHARD +Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy +To stand upon my kingdom once again. [He kneels.] +Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, +Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs. +As a long-parted mother with her child +Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting, +So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth, +And do thee favors with my royal hands. +Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, +Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense, +But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, +And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way, +Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet +Which with usurping steps do trample thee. +Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies, +And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower, +Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder, +Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch +Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies. +Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords. +This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones +Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king +Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms. + +CARLISLE +Fear not, my lord. That power that made you king +Hath power to keep you king in spite of all. +The means that heavens yield must be embraced +And not neglected. Else heaven would, +And we will not--heaven's offer we refuse, +The proffered means of succor and redress. + +AUMERLE +He means, my lord, that we are too remiss, +Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, +Grows strong and great in substance and in power. + +KING RICHARD +Discomfortable cousin, know'st thou not +That when the searching eye of heaven is hid +Behind the globe that lights the lower world, +Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen +In murders and in outrage boldly here? +But when from under this terrestrial ball +He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines +And darts his light through every guilty hole, +Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, +The cloak of night being plucked from off their +backs, +Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves. +So when this thief, this traitor Bolingbroke, +Who all this while hath reveled in the night +Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes, +Shall see us rising in our throne, the east, +His treasons will sit blushing in his face, +Not able to endure the sight of day, +But self-affrighted, tremble at his sin. +Not all the water in the rough rude sea +Can wash the balm off from an anointed king. +The breath of worldly men cannot depose +The deputy elected by the Lord. +For every man that Bolingbroke hath pressed +To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown, +God for His Richard hath in heavenly pay +A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight, +Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right. + +[Enter Salisbury.] + +Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power? + +SALISBURY +Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, +Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue +And bids me speak of nothing but despair. +One day too late, I fear me, noble lord, +Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth. +O, call back yesterday, bid time return, +And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men. +Today, today, unhappy day too late, +Overthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; +For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, +Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled. + +AUMERLE +Comfort, my liege. Why looks your Grace so pale? + +KING RICHARD +But now the blood of twenty thousand men + Did triumph in my face, and they are fled; +And till so much blood thither come again + Have I not reason to look pale and dead? +All souls that will be safe, fly from my side, +For time hath set a blot upon my pride. + +AUMERLE +Comfort, my liege. Remember who you are. + +KING RICHARD +I had forgot myself. Am I not king? +Awake, thou coward majesty, thou sleepest! +Is not the King's name twenty thousand names? +Arm, arm, my name! A puny subject strikes +At thy great glory. Look not to the ground, +You favorites of a king. Are we not high? +High be our thoughts. I know my Uncle York +Hath power enough to serve our turn.--But who +comes here? + +[Enter Scroop.] + + +SCROOP +More health and happiness betide my liege +Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him. + +KING RICHARD +Mine ear is open and my heart prepared. +The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold. +Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care, +And what loss is it to be rid of care? +Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? +Greater he shall not be. If he serve God, +We'll serve Him too and be his fellow so. +Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend. +They break their faith to God as well as us. +Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay. +The worst is death, and death will have his day. + +SCROOP +Glad am I that your Highness is so armed +To bear the tidings of calamity. +Like an unseasonable stormy day +Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores +As if the world were all dissolved to tears, +So high above his limits swells the rage +Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land +With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel. +Whitebeards have armed their thin and hairless +scalps +Against thy Majesty; boys with women's voices +Strive to speak big and clap their female joints +In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown; +Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows +Of double-fatal yew against thy state. +Yea, distaff women manage rusty bills +Against thy seat. Both young and old rebel, +And all goes worse than I have power to tell. + +KING RICHARD +Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill. +Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot? +What is become of Bushy? Where is Green, +That they have let the dangerous enemy +Measure our confines with such peaceful steps? +If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it! +I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke. + +SCROOP +Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord. + +KING RICHARD +O villains, vipers, damned without redemption! +Dogs easily won to fawn on any man! +Snakes in my heart blood warmed, that sting my +heart! +Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas! +Would they make peace? Terrible hell +Make war upon their spotted souls for this! + +SCROOP +Sweet love, I see, changing his property, +Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate. +Again uncurse their souls. Their peace is made +With heads and not with hands. Those whom you +curse +Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound +And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground. + +AUMERLE +Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead? + +SCROOP +Ay, all of them at Bristow lost their heads. + +AUMERLE +Where is the Duke my father with his power? + +KING RICHARD +No matter where. Of comfort no man speak. +Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, +Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes +Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. +Let's choose executors and talk of wills. +And yet not so, for what can we bequeath +Save our deposed bodies to the ground? +Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, +And nothing can we call our own but death +And that small model of the barren earth +Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. +For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground +And tell sad stories of the death of kings-- +How some have been deposed, some slain in war, +Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed, +Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed, +All murdered. For within the hollow crown +That rounds the mortal temples of a king +Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits, +Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp, +Allowing him a breath, a little scene, +To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks, +Infusing him with self and vain conceit, +As if this flesh which walls about our life +Were brass impregnable; and humored thus, +Comes at the last and with a little pin +Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king! +Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood +With solemn reverence. Throw away respect, +Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty, +For you have but mistook me all this while. +I live with bread like you, feel want, +Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus, +How can you say to me I am a king? + +CARLISLE +My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, +But presently prevent the ways to wail. +To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, +Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe, +And so your follies fight against yourself. +Fear, and be slain--no worse can come to fight; +And fight and die is death destroying death, +Where fearing dying pays death servile breath. + +AUMERLE +My father hath a power. Inquire of him, +And learn to make a body of a limb. + +KING RICHARD +Thou chid'st me well.--Proud Bolingbroke, I come +To change blows with thee for our day of doom.-- +This ague fit of fear is overblown. +An easy task it is to win our own.-- +Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power? +Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour. + +SCROOP +Men judge by the complexion of the sky + The state and inclination of the day; +So may you by my dull and heavy eye. + My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say. +I play the torturer by small and small +To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken. +Your uncle York is joined with Bolingbroke, +And all your northern castles yielded up, +And all your southern gentlemen in arms +Upon his party. + +KING RICHARD Thou hast said enough. +[To Aumerle.] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst +lead me forth +Of that sweet way I was in to despair. +What say you now? What comfort have we now? +By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly +That bids me be of comfort anymore. +Go to Flint Castle. There I'll pine away; +A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey. +That power I have, discharge, and let them go +To ear the land that hath some hope to grow, +For I have none. Let no man speak again +To alter this, for counsel is but vain. + +AUMERLE +My liege, one word. + +KING RICHARD He does me double wrong +That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. +Discharge my followers. Let them hence away, +From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter with Drum and Colors Bolingbroke, York, +Northumberland, with Soldiers and Attendants.] + + +BOLINGBROKE +So that by this intelligence we learn +The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury +Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed +With some few private friends upon this coast. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The news is very fair and good, my lord: +Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. + +YORK +It would beseem the Lord Northumberland +To say "King Richard." Alack the heavy day +When such a sacred king should hide his head! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief +Left I his title out. + +YORK +The time hath been, would you have been so brief +with him, +He would have been so brief to shorten you, +For taking so the head, your whole head's length. + +BOLINGBROKE +Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. + +YORK +Take not, good cousin, further than you should, +Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads. + +BOLINGBROKE +I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself +Against their will. But who comes here? + +[Enter Percy.] + +Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield? + +PERCY +The castle royally is manned, my lord, +Against thy entrance. + +BOLINGBROKE +Royally? Why, it contains no king. + +PERCY Yes, my good lord, +It doth contain a king. King Richard lies +Within the limits of yon lime and stone, +And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, +Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman +Of holy reverence--who, I cannot learn. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. + +BOLINGBROKE, [to Northumberland] Noble lord, +Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle, +Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley +Into his ruined ears, and thus deliver: +Henry Bolingbroke +On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand +And sends allegiance and true faith of heart +To his most royal person, hither come +Even at his feet to lay my arms and power, +Provided that my banishment repealed +And lands restored again be freely granted. +If not, I'll use the advantage of my power +And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood +Rained from the wounds of slaughtered +Englishmen-- +The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke +It is such crimson tempest should bedrench +The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land, +My stooping duty tenderly shall show. +Go signify as much while here we march +Upon the grassy carpet of this plain. +[Northumberland and Trumpets +approach the battlements.] +Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum, +That from this castle's tottered battlements +Our fair appointments may be well perused. +Methinks King Richard and myself should meet +With no less terror than the elements +Of fire and water when their thund'ring shock +At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. +Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water; +The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain +My waters--on the earth and not on him. +March on, and mark King Richard how he looks. +[Bolingbroke's Soldiers march, the trumpets sound.] +[Richard appeareth on the walls with Aumerle.] +See, see, King Richard doth himself appear +As doth the blushing discontented sun +From out the fiery portal of the east +When he perceives the envious clouds are bent +To dim his glory and to stain the track +Of his bright passage to the occident. + +YORK +Yet looks he like a king. Behold, his eye, +As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth +Controlling majesty. Alack, alack for woe +That any harm should stain so fair a show! + +KING RICHARD, [to Northumberland, below] +We are amazed, and thus long have we stood +To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, +Because we thought ourself thy lawful king. +An if we be, how dare thy joints forget +To pay their awful duty to our presence? +If we be not, show us the hand of God +That hath dismissed us from our stewardship, +For well we know no hand of blood and bone +Can gripe the sacred handle of our scepter, +Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp. +And though you think that all, as you have done, +Have torn their souls by turning them from us, +And we are barren and bereft of friends, +Yet know, my master, God omnipotent, +Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf +Armies of pestilence, and they shall strike +Your children yet unborn and unbegot, +That lift your vassal hands against my head +And threat the glory of my precious crown. +Tell Bolingbroke--for yon methinks he stands-- +That every stride he makes upon my land +Is dangerous treason. He is come to open +The purple testament of bleeding war; +But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, +Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons +Shall ill become the flower of England's face, +Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace +To scarlet indignation, and bedew +Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The King of heaven forbid our lord the King +Should so with civil and uncivil arms +Be rushed upon! Thy thrice-noble cousin, +Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand, +And by the honorable tomb he swears +That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones, +And by the royalties of both your bloods, +Currents that spring from one most gracious head, +And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt, +And by the worth and honor of himself, +Comprising all that may be sworn or said, +His coming hither hath no further scope +Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg +Enfranchisement immediate on his knees; +Which on thy royal party granted once, +His glittering arms he will commend to rust, +His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart +To faithful service of your Majesty. +This swears he, as he is a prince and just, +And as I am a gentleman I credit him. + +KING RICHARD +Northumberland, say thus the King returns: +His noble cousin is right welcome hither, +And all the number of his fair demands +Shall be accomplished without contradiction. +With all the gracious utterance thou hast, +Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. +[Northumberland returns to Bolingbroke.] +[To Aumerle.] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do +we not, +To look so poorly and to speak so fair? +Shall we call back Northumberland and send +Defiance to the traitor and so die? + +AUMERLE +No, good my lord, let's fight with gentle words, +Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful +swords. + +KING RICHARD +O God, O God, that e'er this tongue of mine +That laid the sentence of dread banishment +On yon proud man should take it off again +With words of sooth! O, that I were as great +As is my grief, or lesser than my name! +Or that I could forget what I have been, +Or not remember what I must be now. +Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to +beat, +Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. + +AUMERLE +Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. + +KING RICHARD +What must the King do now? Must he submit? +The King shall do it. Must he be deposed? +The King shall be contented. Must he lose +The name of king? I' God's name, let it go. +I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, +My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, +My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, +My figured goblets for a dish of wood, +My scepter for a palmer's walking-staff, +My subjects for a pair of carved saints, +And my large kingdom for a little grave, +A little, little grave, an obscure grave; +Or I'll be buried in the King's highway, +Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet +May hourly trample on their sovereign's head; +For on my heart they tread now whilst I live +And, buried once, why not upon my head? +Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin. +We'll make foul weather with despised tears; +Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn +And make a dearth in this revolting land. +Or shall we play the wantons with our woes +And make some pretty match with shedding tears? +As thus, to drop them still upon one place +Till they have fretted us a pair of graves +Within the earth; and therein laid--there lies +Two kinsmen digged their graves with weeping eyes. +Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see +I talk but idly, and you laugh at me. +[Northumberland approaches the battlements.] +Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland, +What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty +Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? +You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, in the base court he doth attend +To speak with you, may it please you to come down. + +KING RICHARD +Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaeton, +Wanting the manage of unruly jades. +In the base court--base court, where kings grow +base, +To come at traitors' calls and do them grace. +In the base court come down--down court, down +king, +For nightowls shriek where mounting larks should +sing. +[Richard exits above +and Northumberland returns to Bolingbroke.] + +BOLINGBROKE What says his Majesty? + +NORTHUMBERLAND Sorrow and grief of heart +Makes him speak fondly like a frantic man, +Yet he is come. + +[Richard enters below.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Stand all apart, +And show fair duty to his Majesty. [He kneels down.] +My gracious lord. + +KING RICHARD +Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee +To make the base earth proud with kissing it. +Me rather had my heart might feel your love +Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy. +Up, cousin, up. Your heart is up, I know, +Thus high at least [indicating his crown,] although +your knee be low. + +BOLINGBROKE, [standing] +My gracious lord, I come but for mine own. + +KING RICHARD +Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. + +BOLINGBROKE +So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, +As my true service shall deserve your love. + +KING RICHARD +Well you deserve. They well deserve to have +That know the strong'st and surest way to get.-- +Uncle, give me your hands. Nay, dry your eyes. +Tears show their love but want their remedies.-- +Cousin, I am too young to be your father, +Though you are old enough to be my heir. +What you will have I'll give, and willing too, +For do we must what force will have us do. +Set on towards London, cousin, is it so? + +BOLINGBROKE +Yea, my good lord. + +KING RICHARD Then I must not say no. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter the Queen with her Ladies-in-waiting.] + + +QUEEN +What sport shall we devise here in this garden +To drive away the heavy thought of care? + +LADY Madam, we'll play at bowls. + +QUEEN +'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs +And that my fortune runs against the bias. + +LADY Madam, we'll dance. + +QUEEN +My legs can keep no measure in delight +When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief. +Therefore no dancing, girl. Some other sport. + +LADY Madam, we'll tell tales. + +QUEEN +Of sorrow or of joy? + +LADY Of either, madam. + +QUEEN Of neither, girl, +For if of joy, being altogether wanting, +It doth remember me the more of sorrow; +Or if of grief, being altogether had, +It adds more sorrow to my want of joy. +For what I have I need not to repeat, +And what I want it boots not to complain. + +LADY +Madam, I'll sing. + +QUEEN 'Tis well that thou hast cause, +But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou +weep. + +LADY +I could weep, madam, would it do you good. + +QUEEN +And I could sing, would weeping do me good, +And never borrow any tear of thee. + +[Enter a Gardener and two Servingmen.] + +But stay, here come the gardeners. +Let's step into the shadow of these trees. +My wretchedness unto a row of pins, +They will talk of state, for everyone doth so +Against a change. Woe is forerun with woe. +[Queen and Ladies step aside.] + +GARDENER, [to one Servingman] +Go, bind thou up young dangling apricokes +Which, like unruly children, make their sire +Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight. +Give some supportance to the bending twigs.-- +Go thou, and like an executioner +Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays +That look too lofty in our commonwealth. +All must be even in our government. +You thus employed, I will go root away +The noisome weeds which without profit suck +The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. + +MAN +Why should we, in the compass of a pale, +Keep law and form and due proportion, +Showing as in a model our firm estate, +When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, +Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up, +Her fruit trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined, +Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs +Swarming with caterpillars? + +GARDENER Hold thy peace. +He that hath suffered this disordered spring +Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf. +The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did +shelter, +That seemed in eating him to hold him up, +Are plucked up, root and all, by Bolingbroke-- +I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. + +MAN +What, are they dead? + +GARDENER They are. And Bolingbroke +Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it +That he had not so trimmed and dressed his land +As we this garden! We at time of year +Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees, +Lest, being overproud in sap and blood, +With too much riches it confound itself. +Had he done so to great and growing men, +They might have lived to bear and he to taste +Their fruits of duty. Superfluous branches +We lop away, that bearing boughs may live. +Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, +Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. + +MAN +What, think you the King shall be deposed? + +GARDENER +Depressed he is already, and deposed +'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night +To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's +That tell black tidings. + +QUEEN +O, I am pressed to death through want of speaking! +[Stepping forward.] +Thou old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden, +How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this +unpleasing news? +What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee +To make a second fall of cursed man? +Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed? +Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth, +Divine his downfall? Say where, when, and how +Cam'st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch! + +GARDENER +Pardon me, madam. Little joy have I +To breathe this news, yet what I say is true. +King Richard, he is in the mighty hold +Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weighed. +In your lord's scale is nothing but himself +And some few vanities that make him light, +But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, +Besides himself, are all the English peers, +And with that odds he weighs King Richard down. +Post you to London and you will find it so. +I speak no more than everyone doth know. + +QUEEN +Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, +Doth not thy embassage belong to me, +And am I last that knows it? O, thou thinkest +To serve me last that I may longest keep +Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go +To meet at London London's king in woe. +What, was I born to this, that my sad look +Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?-- +Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe, +Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow. +[She exits with Ladies.] + +GARDENER +Poor queen, so that thy state might be no worse, +I would my skill were subject to thy curse. +Here did she fall a tear. Here in this place +I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace. +Rue even for ruth here shortly shall be seen +In the remembrance of a weeping queen. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 4 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter Bolingbroke with the Lords Aumerle, +Northumberland, Harry Percy, Fitzwater, Surrey, the +Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of Westminster, and +another Lord, Herald, Officers to parliament.] + + +BOLINGBROKE Call forth Bagot. + +[Enter Officers with Bagot.] + +Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind +What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death, +Who wrought it with the King, and who performed +The bloody office of his timeless end. + +BAGOT +Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle. + +BOLINGBROKE +Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. +[Aumerle steps forward.] + +BAGOT +My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue +Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered. +In that dead time when Gloucester's death was +plotted, +I heard you say "Is not my arm of length, +That reacheth from the restful English court +As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?" +Amongst much other talk that very time +I heard you say that you had rather refuse +The offer of an hundred thousand crowns +Than Bolingbroke's return to England, +Adding withal how blest this land would be +In this your cousin's death. + +AUMERLE Princes and noble lords, +What answer shall I make to this base man? +Shall I so much dishonor my fair stars +On equal terms to give him chastisement? +Either I must or have mine honor soiled +With the attainder of his slanderous lips. +[He throws down a gage.] +There is my gage, the manual seal of death +That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest, +And will maintain what thou hast said is false +In thy heart-blood, though being all too base +To stain the temper of my knightly sword. + +BOLINGBROKE +Bagot, forbear. Thou shalt not take it up. + +AUMERLE +Excepting one, I would he were the best +In all this presence that hath moved me so. + +FITZWATER, [throwing down a gage] +If that thy valor stand on sympathy, +There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine. +By that fair sun which shows me where thou +stand'st, +I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, +That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death. +If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest, +And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, +Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day. + +FITZWATER +Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. + +AUMERLE +Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this. + +PERCY +Aumerle, thou liest! His honor is as true +In this appeal as thou art all unjust; +And that thou art so, there I throw my gage, +[He throws down a gage.] +To prove it on thee to the extremest point +Of mortal breathing. Seize it if thou dar'st. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +An if I do not, may my hands rot off +And never brandish more revengeful steel +Over the glittering helmet of my foe! + +ANOTHER LORD, [throwing down a gage] +I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle, +And spur thee on with full as many lies +As may be holloed in thy treacherous ear +From sun to sun. There is my honor's pawn. +Engage it to the trial if thou darest. + +AUMERLE, [taking up the gage] +Who sets me else? By heaven, I'll throw at all! +I have a thousand spirits in one breast +To answer twenty thousand such as you. + +SURREY +My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well +The very time Aumerle and you did talk. + +FITZWATER +'Tis very true. You were in presence then, +And you can witness with me this is true. + +SURREY +As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true. + +FITZWATER +Surrey, thou liest. + +SURREY Dishonorable boy, +That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword +That it shall render vengeance and revenge +Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie +In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. +[He throws down a gage.] +In proof whereof, there is my honor's pawn. +Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st. + +FITZWATER, [taking up the gage] +How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! +If I dare eat or drink or breathe or live, +I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness +And spit upon him whilst I say he lies, +And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith +To tie thee to my strong correction. [He throws down a gage.] +As I intend to thrive in this new world, +Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal.-- +Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say +That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men +To execute the noble duke at Calais. + +AUMERLE +Some honest Christian trust me with a gage. +[A Lord hands him a gage.] +[Aumerle throws it down.] +That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this, +If he may be repealed to try his honor. + +BOLINGBROKE +These differences shall all rest under gage +Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be, +And though mine enemy, restored again +To all his lands and seigniories. When he is +returned, +Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial. + +CARLISLE +That honorable day shall never be seen. +Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought +For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, +Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross +Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; +And, toiled with works of war, retired himself +To Italy, and there at Venice gave +His body to that pleasant country's earth +And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ, +Under whose colors he had fought so long. + +BOLINGBROKE Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? + +CARLISLE As surely as I live, my lord. + +BOLINGBROKE +Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom +Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants, +Your differences shall all rest under gage +Till we assign you to your days of trial. + +[Enter York.] + + +YORK +Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee +From plume-plucked Richard, who with willing +soul +Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields +To the possession of thy royal hand. +Ascend his throne, descending now from him, +And long live Henry, fourth of that name! + +BOLINGBROKE +In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne. + +CARLISLE Marry, God forbid! +Worst in this royal presence may I speak, +Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. +Would God that any in this noble presence +Were enough noble to be upright judge +Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would +Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. +What subject can give sentence on his king? +And who sits here that is not Richard's subject? +Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear, +Although apparent guilt be seen in them; +And shall the figure of God's majesty, +His captain, steward, deputy elect, +Anointed, crowned, planted many years, +Be judged by subject and inferior breath, +And he himself not present? O, forfend it God +That in a Christian climate souls refined +Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! +I speak to subjects and a subject speaks, +Stirred up by God thus boldly for his king. +My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, +Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king, +And if you crown him, let me prophesy +The blood of English shall manure the ground +And future ages groan for this foul act, +Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, +And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars +Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound. +Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny +Shall here inhabit, and this land be called +The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls. +O, if you raise this house against this house, +It will the woefullest division prove +That ever fell upon this cursed earth! +Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, +Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe! + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Well have you argued, sir, and, for your pains, +Of capital treason we arrest you here.-- +My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge +To keep him safely till his day of trial. +May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' +suit? + +BOLINGBROKE +Fetch hither Richard, that in common view +He may surrender. So we shall proceed +Without suspicion. + +YORK I will be his conduct. [He exits.] + +BOLINGBROKE +Lords, you that here are under our arrest, +Procure your sureties for your days of answer. +Little are we beholding to your love +And little looked for at your helping hands. + +[Enter Richard and York.] + + +KING RICHARD +Alack, why am I sent for to a king +Before I have shook off the regal thoughts +Wherewith I reigned? I hardly yet have learned +To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee. +Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me +To this submission. Yet I well remember +The favors of these men. Were they not mine? +Did they not sometime cry "All hail" to me? +So Judas did to Christ, but He in twelve +Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, +none. +God save the King! Will no man say "amen"? +Am I both priest and clerk? Well, then, amen. +God save the King, although I be not he, +And yet amen, if heaven do think him me. +To do what service am I sent for hither? + +YORK +To do that office of thine own goodwill +Which tired majesty did make thee offer: +The resignation of thy state and crown +To Henry Bolingbroke. + +KING RICHARD +Give me the crown.--Here, cousin, seize the crown. +Here, cousin. +On this side my hand, on that side thine. +Now is this golden crown like a deep well +That owes two buckets, filling one another, +The emptier ever dancing in the air, +The other down, unseen, and full of water. +That bucket down and full of tears am I, +Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. + +BOLINGBROKE +I thought you had been willing to resign. + +KING RICHARD +My crown I am, but still my griefs are mine. +You may my glories and my state depose +But not my griefs; still am I king of those. + +BOLINGBROKE +Part of your cares you give me with your crown. + +KING RICHARD +Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. +My care is loss of care, by old care done; +Your care is gain of care, by new care won. +The cares I give I have, though given away. +They 'tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. + +BOLINGBROKE +Are you contented to resign the crown? + +KING RICHARD +Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be. +Therefore no "no," for I resign to thee. +Now, mark me how I will undo myself. +I give this heavy weight from off my head +And this unwieldy scepter from my hand, +The pride of kingly sway from out my heart. +With mine own tears I wash away my balm, +With mine own hands I give away my crown, +With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, +With mine own breath release all duteous oaths. +All pomp and majesty I do forswear. +My manors, rents, revenues I forgo; +My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny. +God pardon all oaths that are broke to me. +God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee. +Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved, +And thou with all pleased that hast all achieved. +Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, +And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit. +God save King Henry, unkinged Richard says, +And send him many years of sunshine days. +What more remains? + +NORTHUMBERLAND, [offering Richard a paper] +No more, but that you read +These accusations and these grievous crimes +Committed by your person and your followers +Against the state and profit of this land; +That, by confessing them, the souls of men +May deem that you are worthily deposed. + +KING RICHARD +Must I do so? And must I ravel out +My weaved-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, +If thy offenses were upon record, +Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop +To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, +There shouldst thou find one heinous article +Containing the deposing of a king +And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, +Marked with a blot, damned in the book of +heaven.-- +Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me +Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, +Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, +Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates +Have here delivered me to my sour cross, +And water cannot wash away your sin. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, dispatch. Read o'er these articles. + +KING RICHARD +Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see. +And yet salt water blinds them not so much +But they can see a sort of traitors here. +Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, +I find myself a traitor with the rest, +For I have given here my soul's consent +T' undeck the pompous body of a king, +Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, +Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. + +NORTHUMBERLAND My lord-- + +KING RICHARD +No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, +Nor no man's lord. I have no name, no title, +No, not that name was given me at the font, +But 'tis usurped. Alack the heavy day, +That I have worn so many winters out +And know not now what name to call myself. +O, that I were a mockery king of snow +Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, +To melt myself away in water drops.-- +Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, +An if my word be sterling yet in England, +Let it command a mirror hither straight, +That it may show me what a face I have +Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. + +BOLINGBROKE +Go, some of you, and fetch a looking-glass. +[An Attendant exits.] + +NORTHUMBERLAND +Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. + +KING RICHARD +Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell! + +BOLINGBROKE +Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +The commons will not then be satisfied. + +KING RICHARD +They shall be satisfied. I'll read enough +When I do see the very book indeed +Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. + +[Enter one with a glass.] + +Give me that glass, and therein will I read. +[He takes the mirror.] +No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck +So many blows upon this face of mine +And made no deeper wounds? O flatt'ring glass, +Like to my followers in prosperity, +Thou dost beguile me. Was this face the face +That every day under his household roof +Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face +That like the sun did make beholders wink? +Is this the face which faced so many follies, +That was at last outfaced by Bolingbroke? +A brittle glory shineth in this face. +As brittle as the glory is the face, +[He breaks the mirror.] +For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers.-- +Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport: +How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face. + +BOLINGBROKE +The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed +The shadow of your face. + +KING RICHARD Say that again. +The shadow of my sorrow? Ha, let's see. +'Tis very true. My grief lies all within; +And these external manners of laments +Are merely shadows to the unseen grief +That swells with silence in the tortured soul. +There lies the substance. And I thank thee, king, +For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st +Me cause to wail but teachest me the way +How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon +And then be gone and trouble you no more. +Shall I obtain it? + +BOLINGBROKE Name it, fair cousin. + +KING RICHARD +"Fair cousin"? I am greater than a king, +For when I was a king, my flatterers +Were then but subjects. Being now a subject, +I have a king here to my flatterer. +Being so great, I have no need to beg. + +BOLINGBROKE Yet ask. + +KING RICHARD And shall I have? + +BOLINGBROKE You shall. + +KING RICHARD Then give me leave to go. + +BOLINGBROKE Whither? + +KING RICHARD +Whither you will, so I were from your sights. + +BOLINGBROKE +Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. + +KING RICHARD +O, good! "Convey"? Conveyers are you all, +That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. +[Richard exits with Guards.] + +BOLINGBROKE +On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down +Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves. +[They exit. The Abbot of Westminster, the Bishop of +Carlisle, Aumerle remain.] + +ABBOT +A woeful pageant have we here beheld. + +CARLISLE +The woe's to come. The children yet unborn +Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. + +AUMERLE +You holy clergymen, is there no plot +To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? + +ABBOT My lord, +Before I freely speak my mind herein, +You shall not only take the sacrament +To bury mine intents, but also to effect +Whatever I shall happen to devise. +I see your brows are full of discontent, +Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears. +Come home with me to supper. I'll lay +A plot shall show us all a merry day. +[They exit.] + + +ACT 5 +===== + +Scene 1 +======= +[Enter the Queen with her Attendants.] + + +QUEEN +This way the King will come. This is the way +To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower, +To whose flint bosom my condemned lord +Is doomed a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke. +Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth +Have any resting for her true king's queen. + +[Enter Richard and Guard.] + +But soft, but see--or rather do not see +My fair rose wither; yet look up, behold, +That you in pity may dissolve to dew +And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.-- +Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand, +Thou map of honor, thou King Richard's tomb, +And not King Richard! Thou most beauteous inn, +Why should hard-favored grief be lodged in thee +When triumph is become an alehouse guest? + +KING RICHARD +Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, +To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul, +To think our former state a happy dream, +From which awaked, the truth of what we are +Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet, +To grim necessity, and he and I +Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France +And cloister thee in some religious house. +Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, +Which our profane hours here have thrown down. + +QUEEN +What, is my Richard both in shape and mind +Transformed and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke +Deposed thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? +The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw +And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage +To be o'er-powered; and wilt thou, pupil-like, +Take the correction, mildly kiss the rod, +And fawn on rage with base humility, +Which art a lion and the king of beasts? + +KING RICHARD +A king of beasts indeed. If aught but beasts, +I had been still a happy king of men. +Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for +France. +Think I am dead and that even here thou takest, +As from my deathbed, thy last living leave. +In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire +With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales +Of woeful ages long ago betid; +And, ere thou bid good night, to quite their griefs, +Tell thou the lamentable tale of me, +And send the hearers weeping to their beds. +Forwhy the senseless brands will sympathize +The heavy accent of thy moving tongue, +And in compassion weep the fire out, +And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black, +For the deposing of a rightful king. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed. +You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.-- +And madam, there is order ta'en for you. +With all swift speed you must away to France. + +KING RICHARD +Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal +The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, +The time shall not be many hours of age +More than it is ere foul sin, gathering head, +Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think, +Though he divide the realm and give thee half, +It is too little, helping him to all. +He shall think that thou, which knowest the way +To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, +Being ne'er so little urged another way, +To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. +The love of wicked men converts to fear, +That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both +To worthy danger and deserved death. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +My guilt be on my head, and there an end. +Take leave and part, for you must part forthwith. + +KING RICHARD +Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate +A twofold marriage--twixt my crown and me, +And then betwixt me and my married wife. +[To Queen.] Let me unkiss the oath twixt thee and +me; +And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.-- +Part us, Northumberland, I towards the north, +Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime; +My wife to France, from whence set forth in pomp +She came adorned hither like sweet May, +Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. + +QUEEN +And must we be divided? Must we part? + +KING RICHARD +Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. + +QUEEN, [to Northumberland] +Banish us both, and send the King with me. + +NORTHUMBERLAND +That were some love, but little policy. + +QUEEN +Then whither he goes, thither let me go. + +KING RICHARD +So two together weeping make one woe. +Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here; +Better far off than, near, be ne'er the near. +Go, count thy way with sighs, I mine with groans. + +QUEEN +So longest way shall have the longest moans. + +KING RICHARD +Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short, +And piece the way out with a heavy heart. +Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, +Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief. +One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part. +Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart. +[They kiss.] + +QUEEN +Give me mine own again. 'Twere no good part +To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. +[They kiss.] +So, now I have mine own again, begone, +That I may strive to kill it with a groan. + +KING RICHARD +We make woe wanton with this fond delay. +Once more, adieu! The rest let sorrow say. +[They exit.] + +Scene 2 +======= +[Enter Duke of York and the Duchess.] + + +DUCHESS +My lord, you told me you would tell the rest, +When weeping made you break the story off +Of our two cousins coming into London. + +YORK +Where did I leave? + +DUCHESS At that sad stop, my lord, +Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops +Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. + +YORK +Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, +Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, +Which his aspiring rider seemed to know, +With slow but stately pace kept on his course, +Whilst all tongues cried "God save thee, +Bolingbroke!" +You would have thought the very windows spake, +So many greedy looks of young and old +Through casements darted their desiring eyes +Upon his visage, and that all the walls +With painted imagery had said at once +"Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke!" +Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning, +Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, +Bespake them thus: "I thank you, countrymen." +And thus still doing, thus he passed along. + +DUCHESS +Alack, poor Richard! Where rode he the whilst? + +YORK +As in a theater the eyes of men, +After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, +Are idly bent on him that enters next, +Thinking his prattle to be tedious, +Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes +Did scowl on gentle Richard. No man cried "God +save him!" +No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home, +But dust was thrown upon his sacred head, +Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, +His face still combating with tears and smiles, +The badges of his grief and patience, +That had not God for some strong purpose steeled +The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, +And barbarism itself have pitied him. +But heaven hath a hand in these events, +To whose high will we bound our calm contents. +To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, +Whose state and honor I for aye allow. + +[Enter Aumerle.] + + +DUCHESS +Here comes my son Aumerle. + +YORK Aumerle that was; +But that is lost for being Richard's friend, +And, madam, you must call him Rutland now. +I am in parliament pledge for his truth +And lasting fealty to the new-made king. + +DUCHESS +Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now +That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? + +AUMERLE +Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not. +God knows I had as lief be none as one. + +YORK +Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, +Lest you be cropped before you come to prime. +What news from Oxford? Do these jousts and +triumphs hold? + +AUMERLE For aught I know, my lord, they do. + +YORK You will be there, I know. + +AUMERLE If God prevent not, I purpose so. + +YORK +What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom? +Yea, lookst thou pale? Let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +My lord, 'tis nothing. + +YORK No matter, then, who see it. +I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +I do beseech your Grace to pardon me. +It is a matter of small consequence, +Which for some reasons I would not have seen. + +YORK +Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. +I fear, I fear-- + +DUCHESS What should you fear? +'Tis nothing but some bond that he is entered into +For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day. + +YORK +Bound to himself? What doth he with a bond +That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.-- +Boy, let me see the writing. + +AUMERLE +I do beseech you, pardon me. I may not show it. + +YORK +I will be satisfied. Let me see it, I say. +[He plucks it out of his bosom and reads it.] + +YORK +Treason! Foul treason! Villain, traitor, slave! + +DUCHESS What is the matter, my lord? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Ho, who is within there? Saddle my horse!-- +God for his mercy, what treachery is here! + +DUCHESS Why, what is it, my lord? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Give me my boots, I say! Saddle my horse!-- +Now by mine honor, by my life, by my troth, +I will appeach the villain. + +DUCHESS What is the matter? + +YORK Peace, foolish woman. + +DUCHESS +I will not peace!--What is the matter, Aumerle? + +AUMERLE +Good mother, be content. It is no more +Than my poor life must answer. + +DUCHESS Thy life answer? + +YORK, [calling offstage] +Bring me my boots!--I will unto the King. + +[His man enters with his boots.] + + +DUCHESS +Strike him, Aumerle! Poor boy, thou art amazed.-- +Hence, villain, never more come in my sight. + +YORK Give me my boots, I say. +[His man helps him on with his boots, then exits.] + +DUCHESS Why, York, what wilt thou do? +Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? +Have we more sons? Or are we like to have? +Is not my teeming date drunk up with time? +And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age +And rob me of a happy mother's name? +Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own? + +YORK Thou fond mad woman, +Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? +A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament +And interchangeably set down their hands +To kill the King at Oxford. + +DUCHESS +He shall be none. We'll keep him here. +Then what is that to him? + +YORK +Away, fond woman! Were he twenty times my son, +I would appeach him. + +DUCHESS +Hadst thou groaned for him as I have done, +Thou wouldst be more pitiful. +But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect +That I have been disloyal to thy bed +And that he is a bastard, not thy son. +Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind! +He is as like thee as a man may be, +Not like to me or any of my kin, +And yet I love him. + +YORK Make way, unruly woman! +[He exits.] + +DUCHESS +After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse, +Spur post, and get before him to the King, +And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. +I'll not be long behind. Though I be old, +I doubt not but to ride as fast as York. +And never will I rise up from the ground +Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, begone! +[They exit.] + +Scene 3 +======= +[Enter the King with his Nobles.] + + +KING HENRY +Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son? +'Tis full three months since I did see him last. +If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. +I would to God, my lords, he might be found. +Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, +For there, they say, he daily doth frequent +With unrestrained loose companions, +Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes +And beat our watch and rob our passengers, +While he, young wanton and effeminate boy, +Takes on the point of honor to support +So dissolute a crew. + +PERCY +My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince, +And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. + +KING HENRY And what said the gallant? + +PERCY +His answer was, he would unto the stews, +And from the common'st creature pluck a glove +And wear it as a favor, and with that +He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. + +KING HENRY +As dissolute as desperate. Yet through both +I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years +May happily bring forth. But who comes here? + +[Enter Aumerle amazed.] + + +AUMERLE Where is the King? + +KING HENRY +What means our cousin, that he stares and looks so +wildly? + +AUMERLE +God save your Grace. I do beseech your Majesty +To have some conference with your Grace alone. + +KING HENRY, [to his Nobles] +Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. +[The Nobles exit.] +What is the matter with our cousin now? + +AUMERLE, [kneeling] +Forever may my knees grow to the earth, +My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, +Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak. + +KING HENRY +Intended or committed was this fault? +If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, +To win thy after-love I pardon thee. + +AUMERLE, [standing] +Then give me leave that I may turn the key +That no man enter till my tale be done. + +KING HENRY Have thy desire. [Aumerle locks the door.] +[The Duke of York knocks at the door and crieth.] + +YORK, [within] +My liege, beware! Look to thyself! +Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. + +KING HENRY, [to Aumerle] Villain, I'll make thee safe. +[He draws his sword.] + +AUMERLE +Stay thy revengeful hand. Thou hast no cause to fear. + +YORK, [within] +Open the door, secure, foolhardy king! +Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? +Open the door, or I will break it open. +[King Henry unlocks the door.] + +[Enter York.] + + +KING HENRY What is the matter, uncle? Speak. +Recover breath. Tell us how near is danger +That we may arm us to encounter it. + +YORK, [giving King Henry a paper] +Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know +The treason that my haste forbids me show. + +AUMERLE, [to King Henry] +Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise passed. +I do repent me. Read not my name there. +My heart is not confederate with my hand. + +YORK +It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.-- +I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king. +Fear, and not love, begets his penitence. +Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove +A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. + +KING HENRY +O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy! +O loyal father of a treacherous son, +Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain +From whence this stream, through muddy passages, +Hath held his current and defiled himself, +Thy overflow of good converts to bad, +And thy abundant goodness shall excuse +This deadly blot in thy digressing son. + +YORK +So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd, +And he shall spend mine honor with his shame, +As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. +Mine honor lives when his dishonor dies, +Or my shamed life in his dishonor lies. +Thou kill'st me in his life: giving him breath, +The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. + +DUCHESS, [within] +What ho, my liege! For God's sake, let me in! + +KING HENRY +What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry? + +DUCHESS, [within] +A woman and thy aunt, great king. 'Tis I. +Speak with me, pity me. Open the door! +A beggar begs that never begged before. + +KING HENRY +Our scene is altered from a serious thing +And now changed to "The Beggar and the King."-- +My dangerous cousin, let your mother in. +I know she is come to pray for your foul sin. +[Aumerle opens the door.] + +[Duchess of York enters and kneels.] + + +YORK +If thou do pardon whosoever pray, +More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. +This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound. +This let alone will all the rest confound. + +DUCHESS +O king, believe not this hard-hearted man. +Love loving not itself, none other can. + +YORK +Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? +Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? + +DUCHESS +Sweet York, be patient.--Hear me, gentle liege. + +KING HENRY +Rise up, good aunt. + +DUCHESS Not yet, I thee beseech. +Forever will I walk upon my knees +And never see day that the happy sees, +Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy +By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. + +AUMERLE, [kneeling] +Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. + +YORK, [kneeling] +Against them both my true joints bended be. +Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace. + +DUCHESS +Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face. +His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; +His words come from his mouth, ours from our +breast. +He prays but faintly and would be denied. +We pray with heart and soul and all beside. +His weary joints would gladly rise, I know. +Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow. +His prayers are full of false hypocrisy, +Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. +Our prayers do outpray his. Then let them have +That mercy which true prayer ought to have. + +KING HENRY +Good aunt, stand up. + +DUCHESS Nay, do not say "stand up." +Say "pardon" first and afterwards "stand up." +An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, +"Pardon" should be the first word of thy speech. +I never longed to hear a word till now. +Say "pardon," king; let pity teach thee how. +The word is short, but not so short as sweet. +No word like "pardon" for kings' mouths so meet. + +YORK +Speak it in French, king. Say "pardonne moy." + +DUCHESS +Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? +Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, +That sets the word itself against the word! +[To King Henry.] Speak "pardon" as 'tis current in +our land; +The chopping French we do not understand. +Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there, +Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear, +That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do +pierce, +Pity may move thee "pardon" to rehearse. + +KING HENRY +Good aunt, stand up. + +DUCHESS I do not sue to stand. +Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. + +KING HENRY +I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. + +DUCHESS +O, happy vantage of a kneeling knee! +Yet am I sick for fear. Speak it again. +Twice saying "pardon" doth not pardon twain, +But makes one pardon strong. + +KING HENRY I pardon him with all my heart. + +DUCHESS A god on Earth thou art. +[They all stand.] + +KING HENRY +But for our trusty brother-in-law and the Abbot, +With all the rest of that consorted crew, +Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. +Good uncle, help to order several powers +To Oxford or where'er these traitors are. +They shall not live within this world, I swear, +But I will have them, if I once know where. +Uncle, farewell,--and cousin, adieu. +Your mother well hath prayed; and prove you true. + +DUCHESS, [to Aumerle] +Come, my old son. I pray God make thee new. +[They exit.] + +Scene 4 +======= +[Enter Sir Pierce Exton and Servants.] + + +EXTON +Didst thou not mark the King, what words he spake, +"Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?" +Was it not so? + +SERVINGMAN These were his very words. + +EXTON +"Have I no friend?" quoth he. He spake it twice +And urged it twice together, did he not? + +SERVINGMAN He did. + +EXTON +And speaking it, he wishtly looked on me, +As who should say "I would thou wert the man +That would divorce this terror from my heart"-- +Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go. +I am the King's friend and will rid his foe. +[They exit.] + +Scene 5 +======= +[Enter Richard alone.] + + +RICHARD +I have been studying how I may compare +This prison where I live unto the world, +And for because the world is populous +And here is not a creature but myself, +I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer it out. +My brain I'll prove the female to my soul, +My soul the father, and these two beget +A generation of still-breeding thoughts, +And these same thoughts people this little world, +In humors like the people of this world, +For no thought is contented. The better sort, +As thoughts of things divine, are intermixed +With scruples, and do set the word itself +Against the word, as thus: "Come, little ones," +And then again, +"It is as hard to come as for a camel +To thread the postern of a small needle's eye." +Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot +Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails +May tear a passage through the flinty ribs +Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls, +And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. +Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves +That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, +Nor shall not be the last--like silly beggars +Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame +That many have and others must sit there, +And in this thought they find a kind of ease, +Bearing their own misfortunes on the back +Of such as have before endured the like. +Thus play I in one person many people, +And none contented. Sometimes am I king. +Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar, +And so I am; then crushing penury +Persuades me I was better when a king. +Then am I kinged again, and by and by +Think that I am unkinged by Bolingbroke, +And straight am nothing. But whate'er I be, +Nor I nor any man that but man is +With nothing shall be pleased till he be eased +With being nothing. [(The music plays.)] Music do I +hear? +Ha, ha, keep time! How sour sweet music is +When time is broke and no proportion kept. +So is it in the music of men's lives. +And here have I the daintiness of ear +To check time broke in a disordered string; +But for the concord of my state and time +Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. +I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; +For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock. +My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar +Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, +Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, +Is pointing still in cleansing them from tears. +Now, sir, the sound that tells what hour it is +Are clamorous groans which strike upon my heart, +Which is the bell. So sighs and tears and groans +Show minutes, times, and hours. But my time +Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, +While I stand fooling here, his jack of the clock. +This music mads me. Let it sound no more, +For though it have holp madmen to their wits, +In me it seems it will make wise men mad. +Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me, +For 'tis a sign of love, and love to Richard +Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world. + +[Enter a Groom of the stable.] + + +GROOM Hail, royal prince! + +RICHARD Thanks, noble peer. +The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. +What art thou, and how comest thou hither, +Where no man never comes but that sad dog +That brings me food to make misfortune live? + +GROOM +I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, +When thou wert king; who, traveling towards York, +With much ado at length have gotten leave +To look upon my sometime royal master's face. +O, how it earned my heart when I beheld +In London streets, that coronation day, +When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary, +That horse that thou so often hast bestrid, +That horse that I so carefully have dressed. + +RICHARD +Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend, +How went he under him? + +GROOM +So proudly as if he disdained the ground. + +RICHARD +So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! +That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; +This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. +Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down +(Since pride must have a fall) and break the neck +Of that proud man that did usurp his back? +Forgiveness, horse! Why do I rail on thee, +Since thou, created to be awed by man, +Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse, +And yet I bear a burden like an ass, +Spurred, galled, and tired by jauncing Bolingbroke. + +[Enter one, the Keeper, to Richard with meat.] + + +KEEPER, [to Groom] +Fellow, give place. Here is no longer stay. + +RICHARD, [to Groom] +If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. + +GROOM +What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. +[Groom exits.] + +KEEPER My lord, will 't please you to fall to? + +RICHARD +Taste of it first as thou art wont to do. + +KEEPER +My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton, +Who lately came from the King, commands the +contrary. + +RICHARD, [attacking the Keeper] +The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! +Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. + +KEEPER Help, help, help! + +[The Murderers Exton and his men rush in.] + + +RICHARD +How now, what means death in this rude assault? +Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. +[Richard seizes a weapon from a Murderer +and kills him with it.] +Go thou and fill another room in hell. +[He kills another Murderer.] +[Here Exton strikes him down.] +That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire +That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand +Hath with the King's blood stained the King's own +land. +Mount, mount, my soul. Thy seat is up on high, +Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. +[He dies.] + +EXTON +As full of valor as of royal blood. +Both have I spilled. O, would the deed were good! +For now the devil that told me I did well +Says that this deed is chronicled in hell. +This dead king to the living king I'll bear. +Take hence the rest and give them burial here. +[They exit with the bodies.] + +Scene 6 +======= +[Enter King Henry, with the Duke of York.] + + +KING HENRY +Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear +Is that the rebels have consumed with fire +Our town of Ciceter in Gloucestershire, +But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. + +[Enter Northumberland.] + +Welcome, my lord. What is the news? + +NORTHUMBERLAND +First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness. +The next news is: I have to London sent +The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent. +The manner of their taking may appear +At large discoursed in this paper here. +[He gives King Henry a paper.] + +KING HENRY +We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains, +And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. + +[Enter Lord Fitzwater.] + + +FITZWATER +My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London +The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, +Two of the dangerous consorted traitors +That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. + +KING HENRY +Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot. +Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. + +[Enter Harry Percy with the Bishop of Carlisle.] + + +PERCY +The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster, +With clog of conscience and sour melancholy +Hath yielded up his body to the grave. +But here is Carlisle living, to abide +Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride. + +KING HENRY Carlisle, this is your doom: +Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, +More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life. +So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife; +For, though mine enemy thou hast ever been, +High sparks of honor in thee have I seen. + +[Enter Exton and Servingmen with the coffin.] + + +EXTON +Great king, within this coffin I present +Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies +The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, +Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought. + +KING HENRY +Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought +A deed of slander with thy fatal hand +Upon my head and all this famous land. + +EXTON +From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. + +KING HENRY +They love not poison that do poison need, +Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead, +I hate the murderer, love him murdered. +The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labor, +But neither my good word nor princely favor. +With Cain go wander through shades of night, +And never show thy head by day nor light. +[Exton exits.] +Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe +That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow. +Come mourn with me for what I do lament, +And put on sullen black incontinent. +I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land +To wash this blood off from my guilty hand. +[Servingmen lift the coffin to carry it out.] +March sadly after. Grace my mournings here +In weeping after this untimely bier. +[They exit, following the coffin.] \ No newline at end of file