Shakespeare's First Folio Part 270

Hen. Euen so must I run on, and euen so stop.

What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a King, and now is clay?

Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behinde, To do the office for thee, of reuenge, And then my soule shall waite on thee to heauen, As it on earth hath bene thy seruant still.

Now, now you Starres, that moue in your right spheres, Where be your powres? Shew now your mended faiths, And instantly returne with me againe.

To push destruction, and perpetuall shame Out of the weake doore of our fainting Land: Straight let vs seeke, or straight we shall be sought, The Dolphine rages at our verie heeles

Sal. It seemes you know not then so much as we, The Cardinall Pandulph is within at rest, Who halfe an houre since came from the Dolphin, And brings from him such offers of our peace, As we with honor and respect may take, With purpose presently to leaue this warre

Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees Our selues well sinew'd to our defence

Sal. Nay, 'tis in a manner done already, For many carriages hee hath dispatch'd To the sea side, and put his cause and quarrell To the disposing of the Cardinall, With whom your selfe, my selfe, and other Lords, If you thinke meete, this afternoone will poast To consummate this businesse happily

Bast. Let it be so, and you my n.o.ble Prince, With other Princes that may best be spar'd, Shall waite vpon your Fathers Funerall

Hen. At Worster must his bodie be interr'd, For so he will'd it

Bast. Thither shall it then, And happily may your sweet selfe put on The lineall state, and glorie of the Land, To whom with all submission on my knee, I do bequeath my faithfull seruices And true subiection euerlastingly

Sal. And the like tender of our loue wee make To rest without a spot for euermore

Hen. I haue a kinde soule, that would giue thankes, And knowes not how to do it, but with teares

Bast. Oh let vs pay the time: but needfull woe, Since it hath beene before hand with our greefes.

This England neuer did, nor neuer shall Lye at the proud foote of a Conqueror, But when it first did helpe to wound it selfe.

Now, these her Princes are come home againe, Come the three corners of the world in Armes, And we shall shocke them: Naught shall make vs rue, If England to it selfe, do rest but true.

Exeunt.

The life and death of King Iohn.

The life and death of King Richard the Second

Actus Primus, Scaena Prima.

Enter King Richard, Iohn of Gaunt, with other n.o.bles and Attendants.

King Richard. Old Iohn of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, Hast thou according to thy oath and band Brought hither Henry Herford thy bold son: Heere to make good y boistrous late appeale, Which then our leysure would not let vs heare, Against the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray?

Gaunt. I haue my Liege

King. Tell me moreouer, hast thou sounded him, If he appeale the Duke on ancient malice, Or worthily as a good subiect should On some knowne ground of treacherie in him

Gaunt. As neere as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparant danger seene in him, Aym'd at your Highnesse, no inueterate malice

Kin. Then call them to our presence face to face, And frowning brow to brow, our selues will heare Th' accuser, and the accused, freely speake; High stomack'd are they both, and full of ire, In rage, deafe as the sea; hastie as fire.

Enter Bullingbrooke and Mowbray.

Bul. Many yeares of happy dayes befall My gracious Soueraigne, my most louing Liege

Mow. Each day still better others happinesse, Vntill the heauens enuying earths good hap, Adde an immortall t.i.tle to your Crowne

King. We thanke you both, yet one but flatters vs, As well appeareth by the cause you come, Namely, to appeale each other of high treason.

Coosin of Hereford, what dost thou obiect Against the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray?

Bul. First, heauen be the record to my speech, In the deuotion of a subiects loue, Tendering the precious safetie of my Prince, And free from other misbegotten hate, Come I appealant to this Princely presence.

Now Thomas Mowbray do I turne to thee, And marke my greeting well: for what I speake, My body shall make good vpon this earth, Or my diuine soule answer it in heauen.

Thou art a Traitor, and a Miscreant; Too good to be so, and too bad to liue, Since the more faire and christall is the skie, The vglier seeme the cloudes that in it flye: Once more, the more to aggrauate the note, With a foule Traitors name stuffe I thy throte, And wish (so please my Soueraigne) ere I moue, What my tong speaks, my right drawn sword may proue Mow. Let not my cold words heere accuse my zeale: 'Tis not the triall of a Womans warre, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, Can arbitrate this cause betwixt vs twaine: The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this.

Yet can I not of such tame patience boast, As to be husht, and nought at all to say.

First the faire reuerence of your Highnesse curbes mee, From giuing reines and spurres to my free speech, Which else would post, vntill it had return'd These tearmes of treason, doubly downe his throat.

Setting aside his high bloods royalty, And let him be no Kinsman to my Liege, I do defie him, and I spit at him, Call him a slanderous Coward, and a Villaine: Which to maintaine, I would allow him oddes, And meete him, were I tide to runne afoote, Euen to the frozen ridges of the Alpes, Or any other ground inhabitable, Where euer Englishman durst set his foote.

Meane time, let this defend my loyaltie, By all my hopes most falsely doth he lie

Bul. Pale trembling Coward, there I throw my gage, Disclaiming heere the kindred of a King, And lay aside my high bloods Royalty, Which feare, not reuerence makes thee to except.

If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength, As to take vp mine Honors p.a.w.ne, then stoope.

By that, and all the rites of Knight-hood else, Will I make good against thee arme to arme, What I haue spoken, or thou canst deuise

Mow. I take it vp, and by that sword I sweare, Which gently laid my Knight-hood on my shoulder, Ile answer thee in any faire degree, Or Chiualrous designe of knightly triall: And when I mount, aliue may I not light, If I be Traitor, or vniustly fight

King. What doth our Cosin lay to Mowbraies charge?

It must be great that can inherite vs, So much as of a thought of ill in him

Bul. Looke what I said, my life shall proue it true, That Mowbray hath receiu'd eight thousand n.o.bles, In name of lendings for your Highnesse Soldiers, The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, Like a false Traitor, and iniurious Villaine.

Besides I say, and will in battaile proue, Or heere, or elsewhere to the furthest Verge That euer was suruey'd by English eye, That all the Treasons for these eighteene yeeres Complotted, and contriued in this Land, Fetch'd from false Mowbray their first head and spring.

Further I say, and further will maintaine Vpon his bad life, to make all this good.

That he did plot the Duke of Glousters death, Suggest his soone beleeuing aduersaries, And consequently, like a Traitor Coward, Sluc'd out his innocent soule through streames of blood: Which blood, like sacrificing Abels cries, (Euen from the toonglesse cauernes of the earth) To me for iustice, and rough chasticement: And by the glorious worth of my discent, This arme shall do it, or this life be spent

King. How high a pitch his resolution soares: Thomas of Norfolke, what sayest thou to this?

Mow. Oh let my Soueraigne turne away his face, And bid his eares a little while be deafe, Till I haue told this slander of his blood, How G.o.d, and good men, hate so foule a lyar

King. Mowbray, impartiall are our eyes and eares, Were he my brother, nay our kingdomes heyre, As he is but my fathers brothers sonne; Now by my Scepters awe, I make a vow, Such neighbour-neerenesse to our sacred blood, Should nothing priuiledge him, nor partialize The vn-stooping firmenesse of my vpright soule.

He is our subiect (Mowbray) so art thou, Free speech, and fearelesse, I to thee allow

Mow. Then Bullingbrooke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false pa.s.sage of thy throat; thou lyest: Three parts of that receipt I had for Callice, Disburst I to his Highnesse souldiers; The other part reseru'd I by consent, For that my Soueraigne Liege was in my debt, Vpon remainder of a deere Accompt, Since last I went to France to fetch his Queene: Now swallow downe that Lye. For Glousters death, I slew him not; but (to mine owne disgrace) Neglected my sworne duty in that case: For you my n.o.ble Lord of Lancaster, The honourable Father to my foe, Once I did lay an ambush for your life, A trespa.s.se that doth vex my greeued soule: But ere I last receiu'd the Sacrament, I did confesse it, and exactly begg'd Your Graces pardon, and I hope I had it.

This is my fault: as for the rest appeal'd, It issues from the rancour of a Villaine, A recreant, and most degenerate Traitor, Which in my selfe I boldly will defend, And interchangeably hurle downe my gage Vpon this ouer-weening Traitors foote, To proue my selfe a loyall Gentleman, Euen in the best blood chamber'd in his bosome.

In hast whereof, most heartily I pray Your Highnesse to a.s.signe our Triall day

King. Wrath-kindled Gentlemen be rul'd by me: Let's purge this choller without letting blood: This we prescribe, though no Physition, Deepe malice makes too deepe incision.

Forget, forgiue, conclude, and be agreed, Our Doctors say, This is no time to bleed.

Good Vnckle, let this end where it begun, Wee'l calme the Duke of Norfolke; you, your son

Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age, Throw downe (my sonne) the Duke of Norfolkes gage

King. And Norfolke, throw downe his

Gaunt. When Harrie when? Obedience bids, Obedience bids I should not bid agen

King. Norfolke, throw downe, we bidde; there is no boote

Mow. My selfe I throw (dread Soueraigne) at thy foot.

My life thou shalt command, but not my shame, The one my dutie owes, but my faire name Despight of death, that liues vpon my graue To darke dishonours vse, thou shalt not haue.