London. Westminster Hall. | |
| |
The Lords spiritual on the right side of the throne: the Lords temporal on the left; the Commons below. Enter BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, SURREY, NORTHUMBERLAND, HENRY PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, and Attendants. Officers behind with BAGOT. | |
| Boling. Call forth Bagot. | |
| Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind; | 4 |
| What thou dost know of noble Gloucester’s death, | |
| Who wrought it with the king, and who perform’d | |
| The bloody office of his timeless end. | |
| Bagot. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle. | 8 |
| Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. | |
| Bagot. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue | |
| Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver’d. | |
| In that dead time when Gloucester’s death was plotted, | 12 |
| I heard you say, ‘Is not my arm of length, | |
| That reacheth from the restful English court | |
| As far as Calais, to my uncle’s head?’ | |
| Amongst much other talk, that very time, | 16 |
| I heard you say that you had rather refuse | |
| The offer of a hundred thousand crowns | |
| Than Bolingbroke’s return to England; | |
| Adding withal, how blest this land would be | 20 |
| In this your cousin’s death. | |
| Aum. Princes and noble lords, | |
| What answer shall I make to this base man? | |
| Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars, | 24 |
| On equal terms to give him chastisement? | |
| Either I must, or have mine honour soil’d | |
| With the attainder of his slanderous lips. | |
| There is my gage, the manual seal of death, | 28 |
| 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. | 32 |
| Boling. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up. | |
| Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best | |
| In all this presence that hath mov’d me so. | |
| Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, | 36 |
| 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. | 40 |
| If thou deny’st it twenty times, thou liest; | |
| And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, | |
| Where it was forged, with my rapier’s point. | |
| Aum. Thou dar’st not, coward, live to see that day. | 44 |
| Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. | |
| Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn’d to hell for this. | |
| H. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true | |
| In this appeal as thou art all unjust; | 48 |
| And that thou art so, there I throw my gage, | |
| To prove it on thee to the extremest point | |
| Of mortal breathing: seize it if thou dar’st. | |
| Aum. And if I do not may my hands rot off | 52 |
| And never brandish more revengeful steel | |
| Over the glittering helmet of my foe! | |
| Lord. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle; | |
| And spur thee on with full as many lies | 56 |
| As may be holla’d in thy treacherous ear | |
| From sun to sun: there is my honour’s pawn; | |
| Engage it to the trial if thou dar’st. | |
| Aum. Who sets me else? by heaven, I’ll throw at all: | 60 |
| 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. | 64 |
| Fitz. ’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. | |
| Fitz. Surrey, thou liest. | 68 |
| Surrey. Dishonourable 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 | 72 |
| In earth as quiet as thy father’s skull. | |
| In proof whereof, there is my honour’s pawn: | |
| Engage it to the trial if thou dar’st. | |
| Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! | 76 |
| 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 | 80 |
| To tie thee to my strong correction. | |
| As I intend to thrive in this new world, | |
| Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: | |
| Besides, I heard the banish’d Norfolk say | 84 |
| That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men | |
| To execute the noble duke at Calais. | |
| Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage. | |
| That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this, | 88 |
| If he may be repeal’d to try his honour. | |
| Boling. These differences shall all rest under gage | |
| Till Norfolk be repeal’d: repeal’d he shall be, | |
| And though mine enemy, restor’d again | 92 |
| To all his lands and signories; when he’s return’d, | |
| Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial. | |
| Car. That honourable day shall ne’er be seen. | |
| Many a time hath banish’d Norfolk fought | 96 |
| For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, | |
| Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross | |
| Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; | |
| And toil’d with works of war, retir’d himself | 100 |
| 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 colours he had fought so long. | 104 |
| Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? | |
| Car. As surely as I live, my lord. | |
| Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom | |
| Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants, | 108 |
| Your differences shall all rest under gage | |
| Till we assign you to your days of trial. | |
| |
Enter YORK, attended. | |
| York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee | 112 |
| From plume-pluck’d Richard; who with willing soul | |
| Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields | |
| To the possession of thy royal hand. | |
| Ascend his throne, descending now from him; | 116 |
| And long live Henry, of that name the fourth! | |
| Boling. In God’s name, I’ll ascend the regal throne. | |
| Car. Marry, God forbid! | |
| Worst in this royal presence may I speak, | 120 |
| 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 | 124 |
| 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 judg’d but they are by to hear, | 128 |
| 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, | 132 |
| Be judg’d by subject and inferior breath, | |
| And he himself not present? O! forfend it, God, | |
| That in a Christian climate souls refin’d | |
| Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed. | 136 |
| I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, | |
| Stirr’d 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; | 140 |
| 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, | 144 |
| 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 call’d | 148 |
| The field of Golgotha and dead men’s skulls. | |
| O! if you rear this house against this house, | |
| It will the woefullest division prove | |
| That ever fell upon this cursed earth. | 152 |
| Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, | |
| Lest child, child’s children, cry against you ‘woe!’ | |
| North. Well have you argu’d, sir; and, for your pains, | |
| Of capital treason we arrest you here. | 156 |
| 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? | |
| Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view | 160 |
| He may surrender; so we shall proceed | |
| Without suspicion. | |
| York. I will be his conduct. [Exit. | |
| Boling. Lords, you that here are under our arrest, | 164 |
| Procure your sureties for your days of answer. | |
| [To CARLISLE.] Little are we beholding to your love, | |
| And little look’d for at your helping hands. | |
| |
Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and Officers bearing the Crown, & c. | 168 |
| K. Rich. Alack! why am I sent for to a king | |
| Before I have shook off the regal thoughts | |
| Wherewith I reign’d? I hardly yet have learn’d | |
| To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs: | 172 |
| Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me | |
| To this submission. Yet I well remember | |
| The favours of these men: were they not mine? | |
| Did they not sometime cry, ‘All hail!’ to me? | 176 |
| 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. | 180 |
| 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 good will | 184 |
| Which tired majesty did make thee offer, | |
| The resignation of thy state and crown | |
| To Henry Bolingbroke. | |
| K. Rich. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown; | 188 |
| Here cousin, | |
| On this side my hand and on that side thine. | |
| Now is this golden crown like a deep well | |
| That owes two buckets filling one another; | 192 |
| 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. | 196 |
| Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign. | |
| K. Rich. 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. | 200 |
| Boling. Part of your cares you give me with your crown. | |
| K. Rich. 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. | 204 |
| The cares I give I have, though given away; | |
| They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. | |
| Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown? | |
| K. Rich. Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be; | 208 |
| 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 sceptre from my hand, | 212 |
| 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, | 216 |
| With mine own breath release all duteous rites: | |
| All pomp and majesty I do forswear; | |
| My manors, rents, revenues, I forego; | |
| My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny: | 220 |
| 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 griev’d, | |
| And thou with all pleas’d, that hast all achiev’d! | 224 |
| Long mayst thou live in Richard’s seat to sit, | |
| And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit! | |
| God save King Henry, unking’d Richard says, | |
| And send him many years of sunshine days! | 228 |
| What more remains? | |
| North. [Offering a paper.] No more, but that you read | |
| These accusations and these grievous crimes | |
| Committed by your person and your followers | 232 |
| Against the state and profit of this land; | |
| That, by confessing them, the souls of men | |
| May deem that you are worthily depos’d. | |
| K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out | 236 |
| My weav’d-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, | |
| If thy offences were upon record, | |
| Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop | |
| To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, | 240 |
| There shouldst thou find one heinous article, | |
| Containing the deposing of a king, | |
| And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, | |
| Mark’d with a blot, damn’d in the book of heaven. | 244 |
| 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 | 248 |
| Have here deliver’d me to my sour cross, | |
| And water cannot wash away your sin. | |
| North. My lord, dispatch; read o’er these articles. | |
| K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: | 252 |
| 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; | 256 |
| For I have given here my soul’s consent | |
| To undeck the pompous body of a king; | |
| Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, | |
| Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. | 260 |
| North. My lord,— | |
| K. Rich. 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, | 264 |
| But ’tis usurp’d: 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, | 268 |
| 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, | 272 |
| Let it command a mirror hither straight, | |
| That it may show me what a face I have, | |
| Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. | |
| Boling. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass. [Exit an Attendant. | 276 |
| North. Read o’er this paper while the glass doth come. | |
| K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment’st me ere I come to hell. | |
| Boling. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. | |
| North. The commons will not then be satisfied. | 280 |
| K. Rich. 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. | |
| |
Re-enter Attendant, with a glass. | 284 |
| Give me the glass, and therein will I read. | |
| No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck | |
| So many blows upon this face of mine | |
| And made no deeper wounds? O, flattering glass! | 288 |
| 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 | 292 |
| That like the sun did make beholders wink? | |
| Was this the face that fac’d so many follies, | |
| And was at last out-fac’d by Bolingbroke? | |
| A brittle glory shineth in this face: | 296 |
| As brittle as the glory is the face; [Dashes the glass against the ground. | |
| For there it is, crack’d in a hundred shivers. | |
| Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, | |
| How soon my sorrow hath destroy’d my face. | 300 |
| Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy’d | |
| The shadow of your face. | |
| K. Rich. Say that again. | |
| The shadow of my sorrow! Ha! let’s see: | 304 |
| ’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 tortur’d soul; | 308 |
| 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, | 312 |
| And then be gone and trouble you no more. | |
| Shall I obtain it? | |
| Boling. Name it, fair cousin. | |
| K. Rich. ‘Fair cousin!’ I am greater than a king; | 316 |
| 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. | 320 |
| Boling. Yet ask. | |
| K. Rich. And shall I have? | |
| Boling. You shall. | |
| K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. | 324 |
| Boling. Whither? | |
| K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights. | |
| Boling. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower. | |
| K. Rich. O, good! convey? conveyers are you all, | 328 |
| That rise thus nimbly by a true king’s fall. [Exeunt KING RICHARD and Guard. | |
| Boling. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down | |
| Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. [Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, and AUMERLE. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Bishop. The woe’s to come; the children yet unborn | |
| Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. | 332 |
| Aum. 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, | 336 |
| 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, | 340 |
| Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears: | |
| Come home with me to supper; I will lay | |
| A plot shall show us all a merry day. [Exeunt. | |