Texts:Shakespeare/cw162328: Difference between revisions

<h2>THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING RICHARD THE SECOND</h2>

<hr />

<h3>Dramatis Personæ</h3>

<p class="noindent">

KING RICHARD THE SECOND<br/>

JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster - uncle to the King<br/>

EDMUND LANGLEY, Duke of York - uncle to the King<br/>

HENRY, surnamed BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford, son of John of Gaunt, afterwards King Henry IV<br/>

DUKE OF AUMERLE, son of the Duke of York<br/>

THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk<br/>

DUKE OF SURREY<br/>

EARL OF SALISBURY<br/>

LORD BERKELEY<br/>

BUSHY - Servant to King Richard<br/>

BAGOT - Servant to King Richard<br/>

GREEN - Servant to King Richard<br/>

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND<br/>

HARRY PERCY, surnamed Hotspur, his son<br/>

LORD ROSS<br/>

LORD WILLOUGHBY<br/>

LORD FITZWATER<br/>

BISHOP OF CARLISLE<br/>

ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER<br/>

LORD MARSHAL<br/>

SIR PIERCE OF EXTON<br/>

SIR STEPHEN SCROOP<br/>

Captain of a band of Welshmen

</p>

<p class="noindent">

QUEEN TO KING RICHARD<br/>

DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER<br/>

DUCHESS OF YORK<br/>

Lady attending on the Queen

</p>

<p class="noindent">

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and

other Attendants

</p>

<h3><b>SCENE: Dispersedly in England and Wales.</b></h3>

<h2><b>ACT I</b></h2>

<p class="scenedesc"> Enter <span class="charname">King Richard, John of

Gaunt,</span> with other Nobles and Attendants.</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster,<br/>

Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,<br/>

Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son,<br/>

Here to make good the boist'rous late appeal,<br/>

Which then our leisure would not let us hear,<br/>

Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

I have, my liege.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him<br/>

If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice,<br/>

Or worthily, as a good subject should,<br/>

On some known ground of treachery in him?

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

As near as I could sift him on that argument,<br/>

On some apparent danger seen in him<br/>

Aimed at your Highness, no inveterate malice.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Then call them to our presence. Face to face<br/>

And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear<br/>

The accuser and the accused freely speak.<br/>

High-stomached are they both and full of ire,<br/>

In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

</p>

<p class="scenedesc">Enter <span class="charname">Bolingbroke</span>

and <span class="charname">Mowbray</span>.</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

Many years of happy days befall<br/>

My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

Each day still better other's happiness<br/>

Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,<br/>

Add an immortal title to your crown!

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us,<br/>

As well appeareth by the cause you come,<br/>

Namely, to appeal each other of high treason.<br/>

Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object<br/>

Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

In the devotion of a subject's love,<br/>

Tend'ring the precious safety of my prince,<br/>

And free from other misbegotten hate,<br/>

Come I appellant to this princely presence.<br/>

Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,<br/>

And mark my greeting well; for what I speak<br/>

My body shall make good upon this earth,<br/>

Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.<br/>

Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,<br/>

Too good to be so and too bad to live,<br/>

Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,<br/>

The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.<br/>

Once more, the more to aggravate the note,<br/>

With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat,<br/>

And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move,<br/>

What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword may prove.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal.<br/>

'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,<br/>

The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,<br/>

Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain;<br/>

The blood is hot that must be cooled for this.<br/>

Yet can I not of such tame patience boast<br/>

As to be hushed and naught at all to say.<br/>

First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me<br/>

From giving reins and spurs to my free speech,<br/>

Which else would post until it had returned<br/>

These terms of treason doubled down his throat.<br/>

Setting aside his high blood's royalty,<br/>

And let him be no kinsman to my liege,<br/>

I do defy him, and I spit at him,<br/>

Call him a slanderous coward and a villain;<br/>

Which to maintain, I would allow him odds<br/>

And meet him, were I tied to run afoot<br/>

Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,<br/>

Or any other ground inhabitable<br/>

Wherever Englishman durst set his foot.<br/>

Meantime let this defend my loyalty:<br/>

By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,<br/>

Disclaiming here the kindred of the King,<br/>

And lay aside my high blood's royalty,<br/>

Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.<br/>

If guilty dread have left thee so much strength<br/>

As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop.<br/>

By that and all the rites of knighthood else,<br/>

Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,<br/>

What I have spoke or thou canst worst devise.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

I take it up; and by that sword I swear<br/>

Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,<br/>

I'll answer thee in any fair degree<br/>

Or chivalrous design of knightly trial.<br/>

And when I mount, alive may I not light<br/>

If I be traitor or unjustly fight!

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?<br/>

It must be great that can inherit us<br/>

So much as of a thought of ill in him.

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true:<br/>

That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles<br/>

In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,<br/>

The which he hath detained for lewd employments,<br/>

Like a false traitor and injurious villain.<br/>

Besides I say, and will in battle prove,<br/>

Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge<br/>

That ever was surveyed by English eye,<br/>

That all the treasons for these eighteen years<br/>

Complotted and contrived in this land<br/>

Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.<br/>

Further I say, and further will maintain<br/>

Upon his bad life to make all this good,<br/>

That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,<br/>

Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,<br/>

And consequently, like a traitor coward,<br/>

Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood,<br/>

Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries<br/>

Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth<br/>

To me for justice and rough chastisement.<br/>

And, by the glorious worth of my descent,<br/>

This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

How high a pitch his resolution soars!<br/>

Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this?

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

O! let my sovereign turn away his face<br/>

And bid his ears a little while be deaf,<br/>

Till I have told this slander of his blood<br/>

How God and good men hate so foul a liar.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears.<br/>

Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,<br/>

As he is but my father's brother's son,<br/>

Now, by my sceptre's awe I make a vow<br/>

Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood<br/>

Should nothing privilege him nor partialize<br/>

The unstooping firmness of my upright soul.<br/>

He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou.<br/>

Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart,<br/>

Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.<br/>

Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais<br/>

Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers;<br/>

The other part reserved I by consent,<br/>

For that my sovereign liege was in my debt<br/>

Upon remainder of a dear account<br/>

Since last I went to France to fetch his queen.<br/>

Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death,<br/>

I slew him not, but to my own disgrace<br/>

Neglected my sworn duty in that case.<br/>

For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster,<br/>

The honourable father to my foe,<br/>

Once did I lay an ambush for your life,<br/>

A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul;<br/>

But ere I last received the sacrament<br/>

I did confess it and exactly begged<br/>

Your Grace's pardon, and I hope I had it.<br/>

This is my fault. As for the rest appealed,<br/>

It issues from the rancour of a villain,<br/>

A recreant and most degenerate traitor,<br/>

Which in myself I boldly will defend,<br/>

And interchangeably hurl down my gage<br/>

Upon this overweening traitor's foot,<br/>

To prove myself a loyal gentleman<br/>

Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom.<br/>

In haste whereof most heartily I pray<br/>

Your highness to assign our trial day.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me.<br/>

Let's purge this choler without letting blood.<br/>

This we prescribe, though no physician;<br/>

Deep malice makes too deep incision.<br/>

Forget, forgive, conclude and be agreed;<br/>

Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.<br/>

Good uncle, let this end where it begun;<br/>

We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

To be a make-peace shall become my age.<br/>

Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

And, Norfolk, throw down his.

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

When, Harry, when?<br/>

Obedience bids I should not bid again.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot.<br/>

My life thou shalt command, but not my shame.<br/>

The one my duty owes; but my fair name,<br/>

Despite of death that lives upon my grave,<br/>

To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.<br/>

I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here,<br/>

Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed spear,<br/>

The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood<br/>

Which breathed this poison.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Rage must be withstood.<br/>

Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame,<br/>

And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,<br/>

The purest treasure mortal times afford<br/>

Is spotless reputation; that away,<br/>

Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.<br/>

A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest<br/>

Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.<br/>

Mine honour is my life; both grow in one.<br/>

Take honour from me, and my life is done.<br/>

Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;<br/>

In that I live, and for that will I die.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin.

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

O, God defend my soul from such deep sin!<br/>

Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight?<br/>

Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height<br/>

Before this outdared dastard? Ere my tongue<br/>

Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong<br/>

Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear<br/>

The slavish motive of recanting fear<br/>

And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,<br/>

Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

We were not born to sue, but to command;<br/>

Which since we cannot do to make you friends,<br/>

Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,<br/>

At Coventry upon Saint Lambert's day.<br/>

There shall your swords and lances arbitrate<br/>

The swelling difference of your settled hate.<br/>

Since we cannot atone you, we shall see<br/>

Justice design the victor's chivalry.<br/>

Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms<br/>

Be ready to direct these home alarms.

</p>

<h3 id="sceneI_28.2"> <b>SCENE II. The same. A room in

the Duke of Lancaster's palace.</b></h3>

<p class="scenedesc"> Enter <span class="charname">John of Gaunt</span> with

the <span class="charname">Duchess of Gloucester</span>.</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood<br/>

Doth more solicit me than your exclaims<br/>

To stir against the butchers of his life.<br/>

But since correction lieth in those hands<br/>

Which made the fault that we cannot correct,<br/>

Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven,<br/>

Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,<br/>

Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.

</p>

<p class="drama">

DUCHESS.<br/>

Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?<br/>

Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?<br/>

Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,<br/>

Were as seven vials of his sacred blood,<br/>

Or seven fair branches springing from one root.<br/>

Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,<br/>

Some of those branches by the Destinies cut;<br/>

But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,<br/>

One vial full of Edward's sacred blood,<br/>

One flourishing branch of his most royal root,<br/>

Is cracked, and all the precious liquor spilt,<br/>

Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all faded,<br/>

By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe.<br/>

Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine! That bed, that womb,<br/>

That metal, that self mould, that fashioned thee<br/>

Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest,<br/>

Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent<br/>

In some large measure to thy father's death<br/>

In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,<br/>

Who was the model of thy father's life.<br/>

Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair.<br/>

In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaughtered,<br/>

Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,<br/>

Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.<br/>

That which in mean men we entitle patience<br/>

Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.<br/>

What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life,<br/>

The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,<br/>

His deputy anointed in His sight,<br/>

Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully,<br/>

Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift<br/>

An angry arm against His minister.

</p>

<p class="drama">

DUCHESS.<br/>

Where then, alas! may I complain myself?

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

To God, the widow's champion and defence.

</p>

<p class="drama">

DUCHESS.<br/>

Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.<br/>

Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold<br/>

Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.<br/>

O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,<br/>

That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!<br/>

Or if misfortune miss the first career,<br/>

Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom<br/>

That they may break his foaming courser's back<br/>

And throw the rider headlong in the lists,<br/>

A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!<br/>

Farewell, old Gaunt. Thy sometimes brother's wife<br/>

With her companion, Grief, must end her life.

</p>

<p class="drama">

GAUNT.<br/>

Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.<br/>

As much good stay with thee as go with me!

</p>

<p class="drama">

DUCHESS.<br/>

Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls,<br/>

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight.<br/>

I take my leave before I have begun,<br/>

For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.<br/>

Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.<br/>

Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so!<br/>

Though this be all, do not so quickly go;<br/>

With all good speed at Plashy visit me.<br/>

Alack, and what shall good old York there see<br/>

But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls,<br/>

Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?<br/>

And what hear there for welcome but my groans?<br/>

Therefore commend me; let him not come there<br/>

To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere.<br/>

Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die!<br/>

The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

</p>

<h3 id="sceneI_28.3"> <b>SCENE III. Open Space, near

<p class="scenedesc"> Enter the <span class="charname">Lord Marshal</span> and the  

<span class="charname">Duke of Aumerle</span>.</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?

</p>

<p class="drama">

AUMERLE.<br/>

Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,<br/>

Stays but the summons of the appelant's trumpet.

</p>

<p class="drama">

AUMERLE.<br/>

Why then, the champions are prepared and stay<br/>

For nothing but his Majesty's approach.

</p>

<p class="scenedesc"> Enter <span class="charname">King Richard,</span> who

takes his seat on his Throne; <span class="charname">Gaunt, Bushy, Bagot,

Green</span> and others, who take their places. A trumpet is sounded, and

answered by another trumpet within. Then enter <span

class="charname">Mowbray</span> in armour, defendant, preceeded by a

Herald.</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Marshal, demand of yonder champion<br/>

The cause of his arrival here in arms.<br/>

Ask him his name, and orderly proceed<br/>

To swear him in the justice of his cause.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

In God's name and the King's, say who thou art,<br/>

And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms,<br/>

Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel.<br/>

Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath,<br/>

As so defend thee heaven and thy valour.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MOWBRAY.<br/>

My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,<br/>

Both to defend my loyalty and truth<br/>

To God, my King, and my succeeding issue,<br/>

Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me,<br/>

And, by the grace of God and this mine arm,<br/>

To prove him, in defending of myself,<br/>

A traitor to my God, my king, and me;<br/>

And as I truly fight, defend me heaven.

</p>

<p class="scenedesc"> Trumpet sounds. Enter

<span class="charname">Bolingbroke,</span> appellant, in armour, preceeded by

a Herald.</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD.<br/>

Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms<br/>

Both who he is and why he cometh hither<br/>

Thus plated in habiliments of war,<br/>

And formally, according to our law,<br/>

Depose him in the justice of his cause.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

What is thy name? And wherefore com'st thou hither<br/>

Before King Richard in his royal lists?<br/>

Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel?<br/>

Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,<br/>

Am I, who ready here do stand in arms<br/>

To prove by God's grace and my body's valour,<br/>

In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,<br/>

That he's a traitor foul and dangerous,<br/>

To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me.<br/>

And as I truly fight, defend me heaven.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

On pain of death, no person be so bold<br/>

Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,<br/>

Except the Marshal and such officers<br/>

Appointed to direct these fair designs.

</p>

<p class="drama">

BOLINGBROKE.<br/>

Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand<br/>

And bow my knee before his Majesty.<br/>

For Mowbray and myself are like two men<br/>

That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;<br/>

Then let us take a ceremonious leave<br/>

And loving farewell of our several friends.

</p>

<p class="drama">

MARSHAL.<br/>

The appellant in all duty greets your highness<br/>

And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.

</p>

<p class="drama">

KING RICHARD. [<i>Descends from his throne</i>.]<br/>

We will descend and fold him in our arms.<br/>

Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,<br/>

So be thy fortune in this royal fight.<br/>