King Richard II

SCENE 3 Gloucestershire

[Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, forces]

  BOLINGBROKE. How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?  NORTHUMBERLAND. Believe me, noble lord,    I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire.    These high wild hills and rough uneven ways    Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome;    And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,    Making the hard way sweet and delectable.    But I bethink me what a weary way    From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found    In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,    Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd    The tediousness and process of my travel.    But theirs is sweet'ned with the hope to have    The present benefit which I possess;    And hope to joy is little less in joy    Than hope enjoy'd. By this the weary lords    Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done    By sight of what I have, your noble company.  BOLINGBROKE. Of much less value is my company    Than your good words. But who comes here?

[Enter HARRY PERCY]

  NORTHUMBERLAND. It is my son, young Harry Percy,    Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.    Harry, how fares your uncle?  PERCY. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health ofyou.  NORTHUMBERLAND. Why, is he not with the Queen?  PERCY. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court,    Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd    The household of the King.  NORTHUMBERLAND. What was his reason?    He was not so resolv'd when last we spake together.  PERCY. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor.    But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh,    To offer service to the Duke of Hereford;    And sent me over by Berkeley, to discover    What power the Duke of York had levied there;    Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.  NORTHUMBERLAND. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?  PERCY. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot    Which ne'er I did remember; to my knowledge,    I never in my life did look on him.  NORTHUMBERLAND. Then learn to know him now; this is the Duke.  PERCY. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,    Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;    Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm    To more approved service and desert.  BOLINGBROKE. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure    I count myself in nothing else so happy    As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends;    And as my fortune ripens with thy love,    It shall be still thy true love's recompense.    My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.  NORTHUMBERLAND. How far is it to Berkeley? And what stir    Keeps good old York there with his men of war?  PERCY. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees,    Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard;    And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour-    None else of name and noble estimate.

[Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY]

  NORTHUMBERLAND. Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,    Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.  BOLINGBROKE. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues    A banish'd traitor. All my treasury    Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,    Shall be your love and labour's recompense.  ROSS. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.  WILLOUGHBY. And far surmounts our labour to attain it.  BOLINGBROKE. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;    Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,    Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?

[Enter BERKELEY]

  NORTHUMBERLAND. It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.  BERKELEY. My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.  BOLINGBROKE. My lord, my answer is-'to Lancaster';    And I am come to seek that name in England;    And I must find that title in your tongue    Before I make reply to aught you say.  BERKELEY. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning    To raze one title of your honour out.    To you, my lord, I come-what lord you will-    From the most gracious regent of this land,    The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on    To take advantage of the absent time,    And fright our native peace with self-borne arms.

[Enter YORK, attended]

  BOLINGBROKE. I shall not need transport my words by you;    Here comes his Grace in person. My noble uncle![Kneels]  YORK. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,    Whose duty is deceivable and false.  BOLINGBROKE. My gracious uncle! -  YORK. Tut, tut!    Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.    I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace'    In an ungracious mouth is but profane.    Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs    Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?    But then more 'why?'-why have they dar'd to march    So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,    Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war    And ostentation of despised arms?    Com'st thou because the anointed King is hence?    Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind,    And in my loyal bosom lies his power.    Were I but now lord of such hot youth    As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself    Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,    From forth the ranks of many thousand French,    O, then how quickly should this arm of mine,    Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise the    And minister correction to thy fault!  BOLINGBROKE My gracious uncle, let me know my fault;    On what condition stands it and wherein?  YORK. Even in condition of the worst degree-    In gross rebellion and detested treason.    Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come    Before the expiration of thy time,    In braving arms against thy sovereign.  BOLINGBROKE. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;    But as I come, I come for Lancaster.    And, noble uncle, I beseech your Grace    Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye.    You are my father, for methinks in you    I see old Gaunt alive. O, then, my father,    Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd    A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties    Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away    To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?    If that my cousin king be King in England,    It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.    You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;    Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,    He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father    To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.    I am denied to sue my livery here,    And yet my letters patents give me leave.    My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold;    And these and all are all amiss employ'd.    What would you have me do? I am a subject,    And I challenge law-attorneys are denied me;    And therefore personally I lay my claim    To my inheritance of free descent.  NORTHUMBERLAND. The noble Duke hath been too much abused.  ROSS. It stands your Grace upon to do him right.  WILLOUGHBY. Base men by his endowments are made great.  YORK. My lords of England, let me tell you this:    I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs,    And labour'd all I could to do him right;    But in this kind to come, in braving arms,    Be his own carver and cut out his way,    To find out right with wrong-it may not be;    And you that do abet him in this kind    Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.  NORTHUMBERLAND. The noble Duke hath sworn his coming is    But for his own; and for the right of that    We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;    And let him never see joy that breaks that oath!  YORK. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms.    I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,    Because my power is weak and all ill left;    But if I could, by Him that gave me life,    I would attach you all and make you stoop    Unto the sovereign mercy of the King;    But since I cannot, be it known unto you    I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;    Unless you please to enter in the castle,    And there repose you for this night.  BOLINGBROKE. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.    But we must win your Grace to go with us    To Bristow Castle, which they say is held    By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,    The caterpillars of the commonwealth,    Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.  YORK. It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause,    For I am loath to break our country's laws.    Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are.    Things past redress are now with me past care. [Exeunt]

SCENE 4 A camp in Wales

[Enter EARL OF SALISBURY and a WELSH CAPTAIN]

  CAPTAIN. My Lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd ten days    And hardly kept our countrymen together,    And yet we hear no tidings from the King;    Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewell.  SALISBURY. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman;    The King reposeth all his confidence in thee.  CAPTAIN. 'Tis thought the King is dead; we will not stay.    The bay trees in our country are all wither'd,    And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;    The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,    And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;    Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap-    The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,    The other to enjoy by rage and war.    These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.    Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled,    As well assur'd Richard their King is dead. [Exit]  SALISBURY. Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind,    I see thy glory like a shooting star    Fall to the base earth from the firmament!    The sun sets weeping in the lowly west,    Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest;    Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes;    And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. [Exit]

ACT 3 SCENE 1 BOLINGBROKE'S camp at Bristol

[Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, ROSS, WILLOUGHBY, BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners]

  BOLINGBROKE. Bring forth these men.    Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls-    Since presently your souls must part your bodies-    With too much urging your pernicious lives,    For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood    From off my hands, here in the view of men    I will unfold some causes of your deaths:    You have misled a prince, a royal king,    A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,    By you unhappied and disfigured clean;    You have in manner with your sinful hours    Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him;    Broke the possession of a royal bed,    And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks    With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs;    Myself-a prince by fortune of my birth,    Near to the King in blood, and near in love    Till you did make him misinterpret me-    Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries    And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,    Eating the bitter bread of banishment,    Whilst you have fed upon my signories,    Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,    From my own windows torn my household coat,    Raz'd out my imprese, leaving me no sign    Save men's opinions and my living blood    To show the world I am a gentleman.    This and much more, much more than twice all this,    Condemns you to the death. See them delivered over    To execution and the hand of death.  BUSHY. More welcome is the stroke of death to me    Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.  GREEN. My comfort is that heaven will take our souls,    And plague injustice with the pains of hell.  BOLINGBROKE. My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.

[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND, and others, with the prisoners]

    Uncle, you say the Queen is at your house;    For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated.    Tell her I send to her my kind commends;    Take special care my greetings be delivered.  YORK. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd    With letters of your love to her at large.  BOLINGBROKE. Thanks, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away,    To fight with Glendower and his complices.    Awhile to work, and after holiday. [Exeunt]

SCENE 2 The coast of Wales. A castle in view

[Drums. Flourish and colours. Enter the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, and soldiers]

  KING RICHARD. Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand?  AUMERLE. Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air    After your late tossing on the breaking seas?  KING RICHARD. Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy    To stand upon my kingdom once again.    Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,    Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs.    As a long-parted mother with her child    Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,    So weeping-smiling greet I thee, my earth,    And do thee favours with my royal hands.    Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,    Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;    But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,    And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way,    Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet    Which with usurping steps do trample thee;    Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;    And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,    Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder,    Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch    Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.    Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.    This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones    Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king    Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.  CARLISLE. Fear not, my lord; that Power that made you king    Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.    The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd    And not neglected; else, if heaven would,    And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,    The proffered means of succour and redress.  AUMERLE. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss;    Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,    Grows strong and great in substance and in power.  KING RICHARD. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not    That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,    Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,    Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen    In murders and in outrage boldly here;    But when from under this terrestrial ball    He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines    And darts his light through every guilty hole,    Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,    The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,    Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?    So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,    Who all this while hath revell'd in the night,    Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes,    Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,    His treasons will sit blushing in his face,    Not able to endure the sight of day,    But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.    Not all the water in the rough rude sea    Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;    The breath of worldly men cannot depose    The deputy elected by the Lord.    For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd    To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,    God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay    A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,    Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.

[Enter SALISBURY]

    Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power?  SALISBURY. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,    Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue,    And bids me speak of nothing but despair.    One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,    Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth.    O, call back yesterday, bid time return,    And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!    To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,    O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;    For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,    Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled.  AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege, why looks your Grace so pale?  KING RICHARD. But now the blood of twenty thousand men    Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;    And, till so much blood thither come again,    Have I not reason to look pale and dead?    All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;    For time hath set a blot upon my pride.  AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.  KING RICHARD. I had forgot myself; am I not King?    Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.    Is not the King's name twenty thousand names?    Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes    At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,    Ye favourites of a king; are we not high?    High be our thoughts. I know my uncle York    Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?

[Enter SCROOP]

  SCROOP. More health and happiness betide my liege    Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him.  KING RICHARD. Mine ear is open and my heart prepar'd.    The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.    Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care,    And what loss is it to be rid of care?    Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?    Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,    We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so.    Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend;    They break their faith to God as well as us.    Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay-    The worst is death, and death will have his day.  SCROOP. Glad am I that your Highness is so arm'd    To bear the tidings of calamity.    Like an unseasonable stormy day    Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,    As if the world were all dissolv'd to tears,    So high above his limits swells the rage    Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land    With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel.    White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps    Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,    Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints    In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown;    Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows    Of double-fatal yew against thy state;    Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills    Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,    And all goes worse than I have power to tell.  KING RICHARD. Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.    Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?    What is become of Bushy? Where is Green?    That they have let the dangerous enemy    Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?    If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.    I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.  SCROOP. Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.  KING RICHARD. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!    Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!    Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!    Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!    Would they make peace? Terrible hell make war    Upon their spotted souls for this offence!  SCROOP. Sweet love, I see, changing his property,    Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.    Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made    With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse    Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound    And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.  AUMERLE. Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?  SCROOP. Ay, all of them at Bristow lost their heads.  AUMERLE. Where is the Duke my father with his power?  KING RICHARD. No matter where-of comfort no man speak.    Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;    Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes    Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.    Let's choose executors and talk of wills;    And yet not so-for what can we bequeath    Save our deposed bodies to the ground?    Our lands, our lives, and all, are Bolingbroke's.    And nothing can we can our own but death    And that small model of the barren earth    Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.    For God's sake let us sit upon the ground    And tell sad stories of the death of kings:    How some have been depos'd, some slain in war,    Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd,    Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd,    All murder'd-for within the hollow crown    That rounds the mortal temples of a king    Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,    Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;    Allowing him a breath, a little scene,    To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;    Infusing him with self and vain conceit,    As if this flesh which walls about our life    Were brass impregnable; and, humour'd thus,    Comes at the last, and with a little pin    Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king!    Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood    With solemn reverence; throw away respect,    Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;    For you have but mistook me all this while.    I live with bread like you, feel want,    Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,    How can you say to me I am a king?  CARLISLE. My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,    But presently prevent the ways to wail.    To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,    Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe,    And so your follies fight against yourself.    Fear and be slain-no worse can come to fight;    And fight and die is death destroying death,    Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.  AUMERLE. My father hath a power; inquire of him,    And learn to make a body of a limb.  KING RICHARD. Thou chid'st me well. Proud Bolingbroke, I come    To change blows with thee for our day of doom.    This ague fit of fear is over-blown;    An easy task it is to win our own.    Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?    Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.  SCROOP. Men judge by the complexion of the sky    The state in inclination of the day;    So may you by my dull and heavy eye,    My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.    I play the torturer, by small and small    To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:    Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke;    And all your northern castles yielded up,    And all your southern gentlemen in arms    Upon his party.  KING RICHARD. Thou hast said enough.      [To AUMERLE] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead meforth    Of that sweet way I was in to despair!    What say you now? What comfort have we now?    By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly    That bids me be of comfort any more.    Go to Flint Castle; there I'll pine away;    A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.    That power I have, discharge; and let them go    To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,    For I have none. Let no man speak again    To alter this, for counsel is but vain.  AUMERLE. My liege, one word.  KING RICHARD. He does me double wrong    That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.    Discharge my followers; let them hence away,    From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. [Exeunt]

SCENE 3 Wales. Before Flint Castle

[Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and forces]

  BOLINGBROKE. So that by this intelligence we learn    The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury    Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed    With some few private friends upon this coast.  NORTHUMBERLAND. The news is very fair and good, my lord.    Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.  YORK. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland    To say 'King Richard.' Alack the heavy day    When such a sacred king should hide his head!  NORTHUMBERLAND. Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief,    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,    For taking so the head, your whole head's length.  BOLINGBROKE. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.  YORK. Take not, good cousin, further than you should,    Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads.  BOLINGBROKE. I know it, uncle; and oppose not myself    Against their will. But who comes here?

[Enter PERCY]

    Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield?  PERCY. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,    Against thy entrance.  BOLINGBROKE. Royally!    Why, it contains no king?  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,    Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman    Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.  NORTHUMBERLAND. O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.  BOLINGBROKE. [To NORTHUMBERLAND] Noble lord,    Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;    Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley    Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:    Henry Bolingbroke    On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's 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,    Provided that my banishment repeal'd    And lands restor'd again be freely granted;    If not, I'll use the advantage of my power    And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood    Rain'd from the wounds of slaughtered 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 Richard's land,    My stooping duty tenderly shall show.    Go, signify as much, while here we march    Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.           [NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the Castle, with atrumpet]    Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,    That from this castle's tottered battlements    Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.    Methinks King Richard and myself should meet    With no less terror than the elements    Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock    At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.    Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;    The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain    My waters-on the earth, and not on him.    March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.

[Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish. Enter on the walls, the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY]