The arden shakespeare co.., p.295
The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works, page 295
Whose compass is no bigger than thy head,
And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
O, had thy grandsire with a prophet’s eye
Seen how his son’s son should destroy his sons,
105
From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
Deposing thee before thou wert possess’d,
Which art possess’d now to depose thyself.
Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
It were a shame to let this land by lease;
110
But for thy world enjoying but this land,
Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou now, not king,
Thy state of law is bondslave to the law,
And thou –
RICHARD A lunatic lean-witted fool,
115
Presuming on an ague’s privilege,
Darest with thy frozen admonition
Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
With fury from his native residence.
Now by my seat’s right royal majesty,
120
Wert thou not brother to great Edward’s son,
This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
GAUNT O, spare me not, my brother Edward’s son,
For that I was his father Edward’s son;
125
That blood already, like the pelican,
Hast thou tapp’d out and drunkenly carous’d:
My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul,
Whom fair befall in heaven ’mongst happy souls,
May be a president and witness good
130
That thou respect’st not spilling Edward’s blood.
Join with the present sickness that I have,
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too long withered flower.
Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
135
These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
Convey me to my bed, then to my grave –
Love they to live that love and honour have. Exit.
RICHARD And let them die that age and sullens have,
For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
140
YORK I do beseech your Majesty, impute his words
To wayward sickliness and age in him;
He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear,
As Harry Duke of Herford, were he here.
RICHARD Right, you say true; as Herford’s love, so his;
145
As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.
NORTHUMBERLAND
My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your Majesty.
RICHARD What says he?
NORTHUMBERLAND Nay nothing, all is said:
His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
150
YORK Be York the next that must be bankrout so!
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
RICHARD The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
So much for that. Now for our Irish wars:
155
We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
Which live like venom where no venom else,
But only they, have privilege to live.
And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
Towards our assistance we do seize to us
160
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess’d.
YORK How long shall I be patient? ah, how long
Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
Not Gloucester’s death, nor Herford’s banishment,
165
Nor Gaunt’s rebukes, nor England’s private wrongs,
Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign’s face.
170
I am the last of noble Edward’s sons,
Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first.
In war was never lion rag’d more fierce,
In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
Than was that young and princely gentleman.
175
His face thou hast, for even so look’d he,
Accomplish’d with the number of thy hours;
But when he frown’d it was against the French,
And not against his friends; his noble hand
Did win what he did spend, and spent not that
180
Which his triumphant father’s hand had won;
His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
O Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Or else he never would compare between –
185
RICHARD Why, uncle, what’s the matter?
YORK O my liege,
Pardon me, if you please; if not, I pleas’d
Not to be pardoned, am content withal.
Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
The royalties and rights of banish’d Herford?
190
Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Herford live?
Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
Take Herford’s rights away, and take from time
195
His charters, and his customary rights;
Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day:
Be not thyself. For how art thou a king
But by fair sequence and succession?
Now afore God – God forbid I say true! –
200
If you do wrongfully seize Herford’s rights,
Call in the letters patents that he hath
By his attorneys-general to sue
His livery, and deny his off ’red homage,
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
205
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
RICHARD Think what you will, we seize into our hands
His plate, his goods, his money and his lands.
210
GAUNT I’ll not be by the while. My liege, farewell.
What will ensue hereof there’s none can tell;
But by bad courses may be understood
That their events can never fall out good. Exit.
RICHARD Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight,
215
Bid him repair to us to Ely House
To see this business. To-morrow next
We will for Ireland, and ’tis time, I trow.
And we create, in absence of ourself,
Our uncle York Lord Governor of England;
220
For he is just, and always loved us well.
Come on, our queen, to-morrow must we part;
Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
Exeunt King, Queen, Aumerle, Bushy, Greene and Bagot.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
ROSS And living too, for now his son is Duke.
225
WILLOUGHBY Barely in title, not in revenues.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Richly in both, if justice had her right.
ROSS My heart is great, but it must break with silence,
Ere’t be disburdened with a liberal tongue.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Nay, speak thy mind, and let him ne’er speak more
230
That speaks thy words again to do thee harm.
WILLOUGHBY
Tends that that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Herford?
If it be so, out with it boldly, man;
Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
ROSS No good at all that I can do for him,
235
Unless you call it good to pity him,
Bereft, and gelded of his patrimony.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Now afore God ’tis shame such wrongs are borne
In him, a royal prince, and many mo
Of noble blood in this declining land;
240
The king is not himself, but basely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Merely in hate, ’gainst any of us all,
That will the king severely prosecute
’Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
245
ROSS The commons hath he pill’d with grievous taxes,
And quite lost their hearts. The nobles hath he fin’d
For ancient quarrels and quite lost their hearts.
WILLOUGHBY And daily new exactions are devis’d.
As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what –
250
But what a God’s name doth become of this?
NORTHUMBERLAND
Wars hath not wasted it, for warr’d he hath not,
But basely yielded upon compromise
That which his ancestors achiev’d with blows;
More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
255
ROSS The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
WILLOUGHBY
The king’s grown bankrout like a broken man.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
ROSS He hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,
260
But by the robbing of the banish’d Duke.
NORTHUMBERLAND
His noble kinsman – most degenerate king!
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm;
We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
265
And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
ROSS We see the very wrack that we must suffer,
And unavoided is the danger now,
For suffering so the causes of our wrack.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Not so, even through the hollow eyes of death
270
I spy life peering; but I dare not say
How near the tidings of our comfort is.
WILLOUGHBY
Nay, let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours.
ROSS Be confident to speak, Northumberland:
We three are but thyself, and, speaking so,
275
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore be bold.
NORTHUMBERLAND
Then thus: I have from le Port Blanc,
A bay in Brittaine, receiv’d intelligence
That Harry Duke of Herford, Rainold Lord Cobham,
The son of Richard Earl of Arundel,
280
That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis Quoint –
All these well furnished by the Duke of Brittaine
285
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore.
Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
290
If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
Imp out our drooping country’s broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish’d crown,
Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre’s gilt,
And make high majesty look like itself,
295
Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay, and be secret, and myself will go.
ROSS To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear.
WILLOUGHBY
Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. Exeunt.
300
2.2 Enter the QUEEN, BUSHY and BAGOT.
BUSHY Madam, your Majesty is too much sad.
You promis’d, when you parted with the king,
To lay aside life-harming heaviness,
And entertain a cheerful disposition.
