Wales. Before Flint Castle. | |
| |
Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE and Forces; YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Others. | |
| Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn | |
| The Welshmen are dispersd and Salisbury | 4 |
| Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed | |
| With some few private friends upon this coast. | |
| North. The news is very fair and good, my lord: | |
| Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. | 8 |
| York. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland | |
| To say, King Richard: alack the heavy day | |
| When such a sacred king should hide his head! | |
| North. Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief | 12 |
| Left I his title out. | |
| York. The time hath been, | |
| Would you have been so brief with him, he would | |
| Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, | 16 |
| For taking so the head, your whole heads length. | |
| Boling. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. | |
| York. Take not, good cousin, further than you should, | |
| Lest you mistake the heavens are oer our heads. | 20 |
| Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not myself | |
| Against their will. But who comes here? | |
| |
Enter HENRY PERCY. | |
| Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield? | 24 |
| H. Percy. The castle royally is mannd, my lord, | |
| Against thy entrance. | |
| Boling. Royally! | |
| Why, it contains no king? | 28 |
| H. 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, | 32 |
| Sir Stephen Scroop; besides a clergyman | |
| Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn. | |
| North. O! belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. | |
| Boling. [To NORTH.] Noble lord, | 36 |
| Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle, | |
| Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley | |
| Into his ruind ears, and thus deliver: | |
| Henry Bolingbroke | 40 |
| On both his knees doth kiss King Richards 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, | 44 |
| Provided that my banishment repeald, | |
| And lands restord again be freely granted. | |
| If not, Ill use the advantage of my power, | |
| And lay the summers dust with showers of blood | 48 |
| Raind from the wounds of slaughterd 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 Richards land, | 52 |
| My stooping duty tenderly shall show. | |
| Go, signify as much, while here we march | |
| Upon the grassy carpet of this plain. | |
| Lets march without the noise of threatning drum, | 56 |
| That from the castles totterd battlements | |
| Our fair appointments may be well perusd. | |
| Methinks King Richard and myself should meet | |
| With no less terror than the elements | 60 |
| Of fire and water, when their thundering shock | |
| At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. | |
| Be he the fire, Ill be the yielding water: | |
| The rage be his, while on the earth I rain | 64 |
| My waters; on the earth, and not on him. | |
| March on, and mark King Richard how he looks. | |
| |
A Parley sounded, and answered by a Trumpet within. Flourish. Enter on the Walls KING RICHARD, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY. | |
| H. Percy. See, see, King Richard doth himself appear, | 68 |
| 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 | 72 |
| Of his bright passage to the occident. | |
| York. Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye, | |
| As bright as is the eagles, lightens forth | |
| Controlling majesty: alack, alack, for woe, | 76 |
| That any harm should stain so fair a show! | |
| K. Rich. [To NORTHUMBERLAND.] We are amazd; and thus long have we stood | |
| To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, | |
| Because we thought ourself thy lawful king: | 80 |
| And 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 dismissd us from our stewardship; | 84 |
| For well we know, no hand of blood and bone | |
| Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre, | |
| Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp. | |
| And though you think that all, as you have done, | 88 |
| 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 | 92 |
| 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. | 96 |
| Tell Bolingbroke,for yond methinks he is, | |
| That every stride he makes upon my land | |
| Is dangerous treason: he is come to open | |
| The purple testament of bleeding war; | 100 |
| But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, | |
| Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers sons | |
| Shall ill become the flower of Englands face, | |
| Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace | 104 |
| To scarlet indignation, and bedew | |
| Her pastures grass with faithful English blood. | |
| North. The king of heaven forbid our lord the king | |
| Should so with civil and uncivil arms | 108 |
| Be rushd upon! Thy thrice-noble cousin, | |
| Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand; | |
| And by the honourable tomb he swears, | |
| That stands upon your royal grandsires bones, | 112 |
| And by the royalties of both your bloods, | |
| Currents that spring from one most gracious head, | |
| And by the buried hand of war-like Gaunt, | |
| And by the worth and honour of himself, | 116 |
| 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: | 120 |
| 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. | 124 |
| This swears he, as he is a prince, is just; | |
| And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him. | |
| K. Rich. Northumberland, say, thus the king returns: | |
| His noble cousin is right welcome hither; | 128 |
| And all the number of his fair demands | |
| Shall be accomplishd without contradiction: | |
| With all the gracious utterance thou hast | |
| Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. [NORTHUMBERLAND retires to BOLINGBROKE. | 132 |
| [To AUMERLE.] We do debase ourself, 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? | 136 |
| Aum. No, good my lord; lets fight with gentle words, | |
| Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords. | |
| K. Rich. O God! O God! that eer this tongue of mine, | |
| That laid the sentence of dread banishment | 140 |
| On yond 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, | 144 |
| Or not remember what I must be now. | |
| Swellst thou, proud heart? Ill give thee scope to beat, | |
| Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. | |
| Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. | 148 |
| K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must he submit? | |
| The king shall do it: must he be deposd? | |
| The king shall be contented: must he lose | |
| The name of king? o Gods name, let it go: | 152 |
| Ill give my jewels for a set of beads, | |
| My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, | |
| My gay apparel for an almsmans gown, | |
| My figurd goblets for a dish of wood, | 156 |
| My sceptre for a palmers 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; | 160 |
| Or Ill be buried in the kings highway, | |
| Some way of common trade, where subjects feet | |
| May hourly trample on their sovereigns head; | |
| For on my heart they tread now whilst I live; | 164 |
| And buried once, why not upon my head? | |
| Aumerle, thou weepst, my tender-hearted cousin! | |
| Well make foul weather with despised tears; | |
| Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn, | 168 |
| 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, | 172 |
| Till they have fretted us a pair of graves | |
| Within the earth; and, there inlaid: There lies | |
| Two kinsmen diggd their graves with weeping eyes. | |
| Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see | 176 |
| I talk but idly and you laugh at me. | |
| Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland, | |
| What says King Bolingbroke? will his majesty | |
| Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? | 180 |
| You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay. | |
| North. My lord, in the base court he doth attend | |
| To speak with you; mayt please you to come down? | |
| K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering Phaethon, | 184 |
| 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! | 188 |
| For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. [Exeunt from above. | |
| Boling. What says his majesty? | |
| North. Sorrow and grief of heart | |
| Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man: | 192 |
| Yet he is come. | |
| |
Enter KING RICHARD, and his Attendants. | |
| Boling. Stand all apart, | |
| And show fair duty to his majesty. [Kneeling. | 196 |
| My gracious lord, | |
| K. Rich. 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 | 200 |
| Than my unpleasd eye see your courtesy. | |
| Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know, | |
| Thus high at least, although your knee be low. | |
| Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own. | 204 |
| K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. | |
| Boling. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, | |
| As my true service shall deserve your love. | |
| K. Rich. Well you deserve: they well deserve to have | 208 |
| That know the strongst and surest way to get. | |
| Uncle, give me your hand: nay, dry your eyes; | |
| Tears show their love, but want their remedies. | |
| Cousin, I am too young to be your father, | 212 |
| Though you are old enough to be my heir. | |
| What you will have Ill give, and willing too; | |
| For do we must what force will have us do. | |
| Set on towards London. Cousin, is it so? | 216 |
| Boling. Yea, my good lord. | |
| K. Rich. Then I must not say no. [Flourish. Exeunt. | |