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Re-enter BIGOT and Attendants, who bring in | When this was now a king, and now is clay?
King JOHN in a chair.
K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;
It would not out at windows, nor at doors.
There is so hot a summer in my bosom,
That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment; and against this fire
Do I shrink up.
P. Hen. How fares your majesty?
K. John. Poison'd,-ill fare,-dead, forsook,
And none of you will bid the winter come,
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the north
To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, And comfort me with cold:-I do not ask you much,
I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait,* And so ingrateful, you deny me that.
P. Hen. O, that there were some virtue in my tears,
That might relieve you!
K. John. The salt in them is hot.-
Within me is a hell; and there the poison
Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize
On unreprievable condemned blood.
Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay beTo do the office for thee of revenge; [hind, And then my soul shall wait on thee to
As it on earth hath been thy servant still. Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres,
Where be your powers? Show now your mended faiths;
And instantly return with me again,
Out of the weak door of our fainting land:
To push destruction and perpetual shame,
Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be
The Dauphin rages at our very heels.
Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as
Who half an hour since came from the DauThe cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, phin;
And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.
Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; For many carriages he hath despatch'd To the seaside, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the cardinal: With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post To consummate this business happily.
Bast. Let it be so ;-And you, my noble
With other princes that may best be spar'd, Shall wait upon your father's funeral.
P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be inFor so he will'd it. [terr'd;
Bast. Thither shall it then, And happily may your sweet self put on The lineal state and glory of the land! To whom, with all, submission, on my knee, I do bequeath my faithful services And true subjection everlastingly.
Sal. And the like tender of our love we To rest without a spot for evermore. [make, P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give
And knows not how to do it, but with tears. Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful
Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.—
This England never did, (nor never shall,)
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them: Nought shall make
If England to itself dorest but true. [Exeunt.
SCENE I.-London.-A Room in the Palace.
Enter King RICHARD, attended; JOHN of
GAUNT, and other Nobles with him.
K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster,
Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,* Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son ; Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
Gaunt. I have, my liege.
K. Rich. 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
On some apparent danger seen in him,
Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice.
K. Rich. Then call them to our presence;
face to face,
And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will
The accuser and the accused freely speak:-
[Exeunt some Attendants.
High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
Re-enter Attendants, with BOLINGBROKE and NORFOLK.
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! Boling. May many years of happy days befall
Nor. Each day still better other's happiness; Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown!
K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but
As well appeareth by the cause you come; Namely, to appeal each other of high trea
Cousin of Hereford, what dost thon object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
Boling. First, (heaven be the record of my In the devotion of a subject's love, [speech!) Tendering 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
Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my
'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, [zeal;
The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain:
The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this,
Yet can I not of such tame patience boast,
As to be hush'd, and nought at all to say:
First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs
From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
Which else would post until it had return'd
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 a-foot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Or any other ground inhabitable,*
Wherever Englishman durst set his foot.
Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,-
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.
Boling. Pale, trembling coward, there
throw my gage,
Disclaiming here the kindred of a king;
And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to
K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars!
Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
Nor. 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.
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes
Were he my rrother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
(As he is but my father's brother's son,)
Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,
Such neighbour 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.
Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy
Through the false passage of thy throat, thou
Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais,
Disburs'd I duly to his highness' soldiers:
The other part reserv'd 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 :
I Now swallow down that lie.-For Gloster's
I slew him not; but, to my own disgrace,
Neglected my sworn duty in that case.-
ex-For you, my noble lord of Lancaster,
The honourable father to my foe,
Once did I lay in ambush for your life,
A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul:
But, ere I last receiv'd the sacrament,
I did confess it; and exactly begg'd
Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it.
This is my fault: As for the rest appeal'd,t
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength
As to take up mine honour'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 worst de-
Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I│It issues from the rancour of a villain,
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoul-
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!
K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mow-In
It must be great that can inherit† us
So much as of a thought of ill in him.
Boling. Look, what I speak my life shall
prove it true;-
That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand
In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers;
The which he hath detain'd for lewdt em-
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 survey'd 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
Further I say, and further will maintain
Upon his bad life to make all this good,-
That he did plot the Duke of Gloster's death;
Suggest his soon-believing adversaries;
And, consequently, like a traitor coward,
Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams
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.
* Uninhabitable. Possess. Wicked. Prompt.
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,
To prove myself a loyal gentleman
Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom:
haste whereof, most heartily I pray
Your highness to assign our trial day. [by me;
K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd
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 time 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
[gage. Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. Gaunt. When, Harry? when? Obedience bids, I should not bid again. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there is no boot.
Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at
K. Rich. Rage must be withstood:
Give me his gage:-Lions make leopards tame.
Nor. Yea, but not change their 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 honour is my life; both grow in one;
Take honour from me, and my life is done :
Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
In that I live, and for that will I die.
K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do you begin.
Boling. O, God defend my soul from such foul sin!
Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this out-dar'd dastard! Ere my tongue Shall wound mine honour 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 harbour, even in Mow-
K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to
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 designt the victor's chivalry.-
Marshal, command our officers at arms
Be ready to direct these home-alarms.
SCENE II-The same.-A room in the Duke of LANCASTER's Palace.
Enter GAUNT, and Duchess of GLOSTER. Gaunt. Alas! the part‡ I had in Gloster's blood
Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,
To stir against the butchers of his life.
But since correction lieth in those bands,
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
Who when he sees the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper
Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches springing from one root:
Some of those seven are dried by nature's
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 suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thec :
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 Gloster's death,
Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's
His deputy anointed in his sight, [fully
Hath caus'd his death: the which if wrong-
Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minister.
Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself?
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and defence.
Duch, Why then, I will. Farewell, old
Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight;
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's
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
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitifft recreant‡ to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's
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!
Duch. Yet one word more;-Grief boundeth
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 my 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-O, what?~~
With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see,
But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
And what cheer there for welcome, but my
Therefore commend me; let him not come
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where:
Desolate, desolate, will I hence, and die;
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.
Flourish of trumpels. Enter King RICHARD, My loving lord, [To Lord MARSHAL.] I take who takes his seat on his throne; GAUNT, and several Noblemen, who take their places. A Trumpet is sounded, and answered by another Trumpet within. Then enter NORFOLK in armour, preceded by a Herald.
K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder cham[pion
The cause of his arrival here in arms:
Ask him his name; and orderly proceed
To swear him in the justice of his cause.
Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who
And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in
Against what man thou com'st, and what thy
Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath; And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke
Who hither come engaged by my oath,
(Which, heaven defend, a knight should vio-
Both to defend my loyalty and truth, [late!)
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 himself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
[He takes his seat.
Trumpet sounds.-Enter BOLINGBROKE, in
armour; preceded by a Herald.
K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight
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. Mar. 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? [ven! Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaBoling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray duke of Norfolk,
'That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,
To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me!
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
Mar. 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.
Boling. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sove-
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.
Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your
And craves to kiss your hand, and take his
K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in
Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
Lament we may but not revenge thee dead.
Boling. 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.-
Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle :— Not, sick, although I have to do with death; But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing
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 two-fold vigour lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,-
Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen* coat,
And furbisht new the name of John of Gaunt,
Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.
Gaunt. Heaven 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 casquet
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: [live.
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and
Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George
[He takes his seat.
Nor. [Rising.] However heaven, or fortune,
cast my lot,
There lives or dies, true to king Richard's
A loyal, just, and upright gentleman:
Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace
Never did captive with a freer heart
His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,
More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine adversary.—
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
As gentle and as jocund, as to jest,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.
Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.
K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.Order the trial, marshal, and begin. [The KING and the Lords return to their seats. Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
Boling. [Rising.] Strong as a tower in hope.
Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.] to
Thomas duke of Norfolk.
1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himDerby, [self, 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. 2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray,
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.
Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. [A Charge sounded. Stay, the king bath thrown his warder|| down. K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and
their spears, And both return back to their chairs again: Withdraw with us:-and let the trumpets sound,