The Illustrated Works of Shakespeare/Illustrated Works of Shakespeare, The (1990)(Animated Pixels)[!][CDTV-PC].iso/shakes/text/06/04_01

Text File | 1991-04-10 | 17KB | 439 lines

London. Westminster Hall.
 Enter, as to the Parliament, BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND,
 HARRY PERCY, FITZWATER, SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
 the  ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, another LORD, HERALD, OFFICERS, and BAGOT.

Bolingbroke    Call forth Bagot.

                     BAGOT brought forth by OFFICERS.

    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.

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 blessed 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 dishonour my fair stars
    On equal terms to give him chastisement?
    Either I must, or have mine honour soiled
    With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
                                                    [Throws down his 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    If that thy valour stand on sympathy,
                                                    [Throws down his gage.
    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 deny'st it twenty times, thou liest;
    And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
    Where it was forgd, with my rapier's point.

Aumerle    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.

Harry Percy    Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true
    In this appeal as thou art all unjust;
    And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
                                                    [Throws down his gage.
    To prove it on thee to the extremest point
    Of mortal breathing. Seize it if thou dar'st.

Aumerle    And if I do not, may my hands rot off
    And never brandish more revengeful steel
    Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

Another Lord    I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle,
    And spur thee on with full as many lies
    As may be hollowed in thy treacherous ear
    From sun to sun. There is my honour's pawn:
                                                    [Throws down his gage.
    Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st.

Aumerle    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                            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
    In earth as quiet as thy father's skull.
    In proof whereof there is my honour's pawn:
                                                    [Throws down his gage.
    Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st.

Fitzwater    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.
    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.
                                    [Accepts the gage of another.
    That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this,
    If he may be repealed to try his honour.

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 signories. When he is returned,
    Against Aumerle we will inforce his trial.

Carlisle    That honourable day shall ne'er 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 colours 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.

Duke of York    Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
    From plume-plucked 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,
    And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!

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, crownd, 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 rear this house against this house
    It will the woefullest division prove
    That ever fell upon this cursd 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.

Duke of York                            I will be his conduct.
                                                    [Exit.
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.

     Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD; OFFICERS bearing the regalia.

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 favours 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?

Duke of York        To do that office of thine own good will
        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, and 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 sceptre 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        [Presenting papers.]    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 offences 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.
                                                    [Exit an OFFICER.

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.

                      Re-enter OFFICER with a glass.

        Give me that 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!
        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;
                                 [Dashes the glass to the ground.
        For there it is, cracked in a 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 lament
        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.
                                         [Exeunt RICHARD, guarded.

Bolingbroke        On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
        Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.
                                                    [Exeunt.
                   Manent ABBOT, CARLISLE, and AUMERLE.

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 will lay
        A plot shall show us all a merry day.
                                                    [Exeunt.