Actus Quartus. Scœna Prima.
[Act 4, Scene 1] §
Enter as to the Parliament, Bullingbrooke, Aumerle, Nor‑
thumberland, Percie, Fitz‑Water, Surrey, Carlile, Abbot
of Westminster. Herauld, Officers and Bagot.
Call forth Bagot.
Now Bagot, freely speake thy minde,
What thou do'st know of Noble Glousters death:
Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd
1850 The bloody Office of his Timelesse end.
Then set before my face, the Lord Aumerle.
Cosin, stand forth, and looke vpon that man.
My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scornes to vnsay, what it hath once deliuer'd.
1855 In that dead time, when Glousters death was plotted,
I heard you say, Is not my arme of length,
That reacheth from the restfull English Court
As farre as Callis, to my Vnkles head.
Amongst much other talke, that very time,
1860 I heard you say, that you had rather refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand Crownes,
Then Bullingbrookes returne to England; adding withall,
How blest this Land would be, in this your Cosins death.
Princes, and Noble Lords:
1865 What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonor my faire Starres,
On equall termes to giue him chasticement?
Either I must, or haue mine honor soyl'd
With th'Attaindor of his sland'rous Lippes.
1870 There is my Gage, the manuall Seale of death
That markes thee out for Hell. Thou lyest,
And will maintaine what thou hast said, is false,
In thy heart blood, though being all too base
To staine the temper of my Knightly sword.
1875 Bagot forbeare, thou shalt not take it vp.
Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence, that hath mou'd me so.
If that thy valour stand on sympathize:
There is my Gage, Aumerle, in Gage to thine:
1880 By that faire Sunne, that shewes me where thou stand'st,
I heard thee say (and vauntingly thou spak'st it)
That thou wer't cause of Noble Glousters death.
If thou deniest it, twenty times thou lyest,
And I will turne thy falshood to thy hart,
1885 Where it was forged with my Rapiers point.
Thou dar'st not (Coward) liue to see the day.
Now by my Soule, I would it were this houre.
Fitzwater thou art damn'd to hell for this.
Aumerle, thou lye'st: his Honor is as true
1890 In this Appeale, as thou art all vniust:
And that thou art so, there I throw my Gage
To proue it on thee, to th'extreamest point
Of mortall breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'st.
And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
1895 And neuer brandish more reuengefull Steele,
Ouer the glittering Helmet of my Foe.
My Lord Fitz water:
I do remember well, the very time
Aumerle, and you did talke.
1900 My Lord,
'Tis very true: You were in presence then,
And you can witnesse with me, this is true.
As false, by heauen,
As Heauen it selfe is true.
1905 Surrey, thou Lyest.
The Life and Death of Richard the Second.
That Lye, shall lie so heauy on my Sword,
That it shall render Vengeance, and Reuenge,
Till thou the Lye‑giuer, and that Lye, doe lye
1910 In earth as quiet, as thy Fathers Scull.
In proofe whereof, there is mine Honors pawne,
Engage it to the Triall, if thou dar'st.
How fondly do'st thou spurre a forward Horse?
If I dare eate, or drinke, or breathe, or liue,
1915 I dare meete Surrey in a Wildernesse,
And spit vpon him, whilest I say he Lyes,
And Lyes, and Lyes: there is my Bond of Faith,
To tye thee to my strong Correction.
As I intend to thriue in this new World,
1920 Aumerle is guiltie of my true Appeale.
Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolke say,
That thou Aumerle didst send two of thy men,
To execute the Noble Duke at Callis.
Some honest Christian trust me with a Gage,
1925 That Norfolke lyes: here doe I throw downe this,
If he may be repeal'd, to trie his Honor.
These differences shall all rest vnder Gage,
Till Norfolke be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be;
And (though mine Enemie) restor'd againe
1930 To all his Lands and Seignories: when hee's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his Tryall.
That honorable day shall ne're be seene.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolke fought
For Iesu Christ, in glorious Christian field
1935 Streaming the Ensigne of the Christian Crosse,
Against black Pagans, Turkes, and Saracens:
And toyl'd with workes of Warre, retyr'd himselfe
To Italy, and there at Venice gaue
His Body to that pleasant Countries Earth,
1940 And his pure Soule vnto his Captaine Christ,
Vnder whose Colours he had fought so long.
Why Bishop, is Norfolke dead?
As sure as I liue, my Lord.
Sweet peace conduct his sweet Soule
1945 To the Bosome of good old Abraham.
Lords Appealants, your differences shal all rest vnder gage,
Till we assigne you to your dayes of Tryall.
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume‑pluckt Richard, who with willing Soule
1950 Adopts thee Heire, and his high Scepter yeelds
To the possession of thy Royall Hand.
Ascend his Throne, descending now from him,
And long liue Henry, of that Name the Fourth.
In Gods Name, Ile ascend the Regall Throne.
1955 Mary, Heauen forbid.
Worst in this Royall Presence may I speake,
Yet best beseeming me to speake the truth.
Would God, that any in this Noble Presence
Were enough Noble, to be vpright Iudge
1960 Of Noble Richard: then true Noblenesse would
Learne him forbearance from so foule a Wrong.
What Subiect can giue Sentence on his King?
And who sits here, that is not Richards Subiect?
Theeues are not iudg'd, but they are by to heare,
1965 Although apparant guilt be seene in them:
And shall the figure of Gods Maiestie,
His Captaine, Steward, Deputie elect,
Anoynted, Crown'd, planted many yeeres,
Be iudg'd by subiect, and inferior breathe,
1970 And he himselfe not present? Oh, forbid it, God,
That in a Christian Climate, Soules refin'de
Should shew so heynous, black, obscene a deed.
I speake to Subiects, and a Subiect speakes,
Stirr'd vp by Heauen, thus boldly for his King.
1975 My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call King,
Is a foule Traytor to prowd Herefords King.
And if you Crowne him, let me prophecie,
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future Ages groane for his foule Act.
1980 Peace shall goe sleepe with Turkes and Infidels,
And in this Seat of Peace, tumultuous Warres
Shall Kinne with Kinne, and Kinde with Kinde confound.
Disorder, Horror, Feare, and Mutinie
Shall here inhabite, and this Land be call'd
1985 The field of Golgotha, and dead mens Sculls.
Oh, if you reare this House, against this House
It will the wofullest Diuision proue,
That euer fell vpon this cursed Earth.
Preuent it, resist it, and let it not be so,
1990 Least Child, Childs Children cry against you, Woe.
Well haue you argu'd Sir: and for your paines,
Of Capitall Treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge,
To keepe him safely, till his day of Tryall.
1995 May it please you, Lords, to grant the Commons Suit?
Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender: so we shall proceede
I will be his Conduct.
2000 Lords, you that here are vnder our Arrest,
Procure your Sureties for your Dayes of Answer:
Little are we beholding to your Loue,
And little look'd for at your helping Hands.
Enter Richard and Yorke.
Alack, why am I sent for to a King,
2005 Before I haue shooke off the Regall thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet haue learn'd
To insinuate, flatter, bowe, and bend my Knee.
Giue Sorrow leaue a while, to tuture me
To this submission. Yet I well remember
2010 The fauors of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, All hayle to me?
So Iudas did to Christ: but he in twelue,
Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelue thousand, none.
God saue the King: will no man say, Amen?
2015 Am I both Priest, and Clarke? well then, Amen.
God saue the King, although I be not hee:
And yet Amen, if Heauen doe thinke him mee.
To doe what seruice, am I sent for hither?
To doe that office of thine owne good will,
2020 Which tyred Maiestie did make thee offer:
The Resignation of thy State and Crowne
To Henry Bullingbrooke.
Giue me the Crown. Here Cousin, seize yͤ Crown:
Here Cousin, on this side my Hand, on that side thine.
2025 Now is this Golden Crowne like a deepe Well,
That owes two Buckets, filling one another,
The emptier euer dancing in the ayre,
The other downe, vnseene, and full of Water:
That Bucket downe, and full of Teares am I,
2030 Drinking my Griefes, whil'st you mount vp on high.
I thought you had been willing to resigne.
My Crowne I am, but still my Griefes are mine:
You may my Glories and my State depose,
But not my Griefes; still am I King of those.
2035 Part of your Cares you giue me with your Crowne.
Your Cares set vp, do not pluck my Cares downe.
My Care, is losse of Care, by old Care done,
Your Care, is gaine of Care, by new Care wonne:
The Cares I giue, I haue, though giuen away,
2040 They 'tend the Crowne, yet still with me they stay:
The Life and Death of Richard the Second.
Are you contented to resigne the Crowne?
I, no; no, I: for I must nothing bee:
Therefore no, no, for I resigne to thee.
Now, marke me how I will vndoe my selfe.
2045 I giue this heauie Weight from off my Head,
And this vnwieldie Scepter from my Hand,
The pride of Kingly sway from out my Heart.
With mine owne Teares I wash away my Balme,
With mine owne Hands I giue away my Crowne,
2050 With mine owne Tongue denie my Sacred State,
With mine owne Breath release all dutious Oathes;
All Pompe and Maiestie I doe forsweare:
My Manors, Rents, Reuenues, I forgoe;
My Acts, Decrees, and Statutes I denie:
2055 God pardon all Oathes that are broke to mee,
God keepe all Vowes vnbroke are made to thee.
Make me, that nothing haue, with nothing grieu'd,
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all atchieu'd.
Long may'st thou liue in Richards Seat to sit,
2060 And soone lye Richard in an Earthie Pit.
God saue King Henry, vn‑King'd Richard sayes,
And send him many yeeres of Sunne‑shine dayes.
What more remaines?
No more: but that you reade
2065 These Accusations, and these grieuous Crymes,
Committed by your Person, and your followers,
Against the State, and Profit of this Land:
That by confessing them, the Soules of men
May deeme, that you are worthily depos'd.
2070 Must I doe so? and must I rauell out
My weau'd‑vp follyes? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy Offences were vpon Record,
Would it not shame thee, in so faire a troupe,
To reade a Lecture of them? If thou would'st,
2075 There should'st thou finde one heynous Article,
Contayning the deposing of a King,
And cracking the strong Warrant of an Oath,
Mark'd with a Blot, damn'd in the Booke of Heauen.
Nay, all of you, that stand and looke vpon me,
2080 Whil'st that my wretchednesse doth bait my selfe,
Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,
Shewing an outward pittie: yet you Pilates
Haue here deliuer'd me to my sowre Crosse,
And Water cannot wash away your sinne.
2085 My Lord dispatch, reade o're these Articles.
Mine Eyes are full of Teares, I cannot see:
And yet salt‑Water blindes them not so much,
But they can see a sort of Traytors here.
Nay, if I turne mine Eyes vpon my selfe,
2090 I finde my selfe a Traytor with the rest:
For I haue giuen here my Soules consent,
T'vndeck the pompous Body of a King;
Made Glory base; a Soueraigntie, a Slaue;
Prowd Maiestie, a Subiect; State, a Pesant.
No Lord of thine, thou haught‑insulting man;
No, nor no mans Lord: I haue no Name, no Title;
No, not that Name was giuen me at the Font,
But 'tis vsurpt: alack the heauie day,
2100 That I haue worne so many Winters out,
And know not now, what Name to call my selfe.
Oh, that I were a Mockerie, King of Snow,
Standing before the Sunne of Bullingbrooke,
To melt my selfe away in Water‑drops.
2105 Good King, great King, and yet not greatly good,
And if my word be Sterling yet in England,
Let it command a Mirror hither straight,
That it may shew me what a Face I haue,
Since it is Bankrupt of his Maiestie.
2110 Goe some of you, and fetch a Looking‑Glasse.
Read o're this Paper, while yͤ Glasse doth come.
Fiend, thou torments me, ere I come to Hell.
Vrge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
The Commons will not then be satisfy'd.
2115 They shall be satisfy'd: Ile reade enough,
When I doe see the very Booke indeede,
Where all my sinnes are writ, and that's my selfe.
Enter one with a Glasse.
Giue me that Glasse, and therein will I reade.
No deeper wrinckles yet? hath Sorrow strucke
2120 So may Blowes vpon this Face of mine,
And made no deeper Wounds? Oh flatt'ring Glasse,
Like to my followers in prosperitie,
Thou do'st beguile me. Was this Face, the Face
That euery day, vnder his House‑hold Roofe,
2125 Did keepe ten thousand men? Was this the Face,
That like the Sunne, did make beholders winke?
Is this the Face, which fac'd so many follyes,
That was at last out‑fac'd by Bullingbrooke?
A brittle Glory shineth in this Face,
2130 As brittle as the Glory, is the Face,
For there it is, crackt in an hundred shiuers.
Marke silent King, the Morall of this sport,
How soone my Sorrow hath destroy'd my Face.
The shadow of your Sorrow hath destroy'd
2135 The shadow of your Face.
Say that againe.
The shadow of my Sorrow: ha, let's see,
'Tis very true, my Griefe lyes all within,
And these externall manner of Laments,
2140 Are meerely shadowes, to the vnseen Griefe,
That swells with silence in the tortur'd Soule.
There lyes the substance: and I thanke thee King
For thy great bountie, that not onely giu'st
Me cause to wayle, but teachest me the way
2145 How to lament the cause. Ile begge one Boone,
And then be gone, and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtaine it?
Name it, faire Cousin.
Faire Cousin? I am greater then a King:
2150 For when I was a King, my flatterers
Were then but subiects; being now a subiect,
I haue a King here to my flatterer:
Being so great, I haue no neede to begge.
2155 And shall I haue?
Then giue me leaue to goe.
Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
2160 Goe some of you, conuey him to the Tower.
Oh good: conuey: Conueyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true Kings fall.
On Wednesday next, we solemnly set downe
Our Coronation: Lords, prepare your selues.
2165 A wofull Pageant haue we here beheld.
The Woes to come, the Children yet vnborne,
Shall feele this day as sharpe to them as Thorne.
You holy Clergie‑men, is there no Plot
To rid the Realme of this pernicious Blot.
2170 Before I freely speake my minde herein,
You shall not onely take the Sacrament,
To bury mine intents, but also to effect
The Life and Death of Richard the Second.
What euer I shall happen to deuise.
I see your Browes are full of Discontent,
2175 Your Heart of Sorrow, and your Eyes of Teares.
Come home with me to Supper, Ile lay a Plot
Shall shew vs all a merry day.