Document:  All > Shakespeare > Histories > King Richard II > Act IV, scene I

Jump to: the first appearance of lecture or a list of all documents containing lecture

	[Enter, as to the Parliament, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,
	the Abbot Of Westminster, and another Lord, Herald,
	Officers, and BAGOT]

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Call forth Bagot.
	Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
	What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
	Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
	The bloody office of his timeless end.

BAGOT: Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.

HENRY 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 deliver'd.
	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 blest this land would be
	In this your cousin's death.

DUKE OF 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 soil'd
	With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
	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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.

DUKE OF AUMERLE: Excepting one, I would he were the best
	In all this presence that hath moved me so.

LORD FITZWATER: If that thy valour stand on sympathy,
	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 spakest 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 forged, with my rapier's point.

DUKE OF AUMERLE: Thou darest not, coward, live to see that day.

LORD FITZWATER: Now by my soul, I would it were this hour.

DUKE OF AUMERLE: Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.

HENRY 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,
	To prove it on thee to the extremest point
	Of mortal breathing: seize it, if thou darest.

DUKE OF AUMERLE: An if I do not, may my hands rot off
	And never brandish more revengeful steel
	Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

Lord: I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
	And spur thee on with full as many lies
	As may be holloa'd in thy treacherous ear
	From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn;
	Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.

DUKE OF 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.

DUKE OF SURREY: My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
	The very time Aumerle and you did talk.

LORD FITZWATER: 'Tis very true: you were in presence then;
	And you can witness with me this is true.

DUKE OF SURREY: As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.

LORD FITZWATER: Surrey, thou liest.

DUKE OF 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;
	Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.

LORD 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 banish'd Norfolk say
	That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
	To execute the noble duke at Calais.

DUKE OF AUMERLE: Some honest Christian trust me with a gage
	That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this,
	If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: These differences shall all rest under gage
	Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
	And, though mine enemy, restored again
	To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd,
	Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.

BISHOP OF CARLISLE: That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
	Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
	For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
	Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
	Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens:
	And toil'd 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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?

BISHOP OF CARLISLE: As surely as I live, my lord.

HENRY 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 DUKE OF YORK, attended]

DUKE OF YORK: Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
	From plume-pluck'd 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, fourth of that name!

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.

BISHOP OF 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, crowned, 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,
	Stirr'd 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 call'd
	The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
	O, if you raise this house against this house,
	It will the woefullest division prove
	That ever fell upon this cursed 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.

HENRY 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.


HENRY 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 look'd for at your helping hands.

	[Re-enter DUKE OF YORK, with KING RICHARD II, and
	Officers bearing the regalia]

KING RICHARD II: Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
	Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
	Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
	To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
	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 II: Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;
	Here cousin:
	On this side my hand, and on that side yours.
	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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: I thought you had been willing to resign.

KING RICHARD II: 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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Part of your cares you give me with your crown.

KING RICHARD II: 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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Are you contented to resign the crown?

KING RICHARD II: 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 duty's rites:
	All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
	My manors, rents, revenues I forego;
	My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny:
	God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!
	God keep all vows unbroke that swear 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 earthly pit!
	God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says,
	And send him many years of sunshine days!
	What more remains?

NORTHUMBERLAND:                   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 II: Must I do so? and must I ravel out
	My weaved-up folly? 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,
	Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven:
	Nay, all of you that stand and look upon,
	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 deliver'd me to my sour cross,
	And water cannot wash away your sin.

NORTHUMBERLAND: My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles.

KING RICHARD II: 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
	To undeck the pompous body of a king;
	Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
	Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.


KING RICHARD II: 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 usurp'd: 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.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.

	[Exit an attendant]

NORTHUMBERLAND: Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.

KING RICHARD II: Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell!

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.

NORTHUMBERLAND: The commons will not then be satisfied.

KING RICHARD II: 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 Attendant, with a glass]

	Give me the 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?
	Was this the face that faced so many follies,
	And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
	A brittle glory shineth in this face:
	As brittle as the glory is the face;

	[Dashes the glass against the ground]

	For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
	Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
	How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
	The shadow or your face.

KING RICHARD II: 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 laments
	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 givest
	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?

HENRY BOLINGBROKE:                   Name it, fair cousin.

KING RICHARD II: '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.


KING RICHARD II: And shall I have?


KING RICHARD II: Then give me leave to go.


KING RICHARD II: Whither you will, so I were from your sights.

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.

KING RICHARD II: O, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
	That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

	[Exeunt KING RICHARD II, some Lords, and a Guard]

HENRY BOLINGBROKE: On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
	Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.

	[Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot
	of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE]

Abbot: A woeful pageant have we here beheld.

BISHOP OF CARLISLE: The woe's to come; the children yet unborn.
	Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.

DUKE OF 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; and I'll lay
	A plot shall show us all a merry day.



Search for this word      in all documents   just this document

What do you think? Grade this document:  

(Average grade so far: B-, 4 graders.)

Need writing help? Try RhymeZone's rhyming dictionary and thesaurus features

Help  Advanced  Feedback  iPhone/iPad  Android  API  @RhymeZoneCom  Blog  Privacy

Copyright © 2022 Datamuse