William Shakespeare

“ K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars!
Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this?
Mow. O! let my sovereign turn away his face
And bid his ears a little while be deaf, ⁠112
Till I have told this slander of his blood
How God and good men hate so foul a liar.
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears:
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,— ⁠116
As he is but my father's brother's son,—
Now, by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,
Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize ⁠120
The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. ”

“ BOLINGBROKE. What is the matter, uncle? Speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. YORK. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show. AUMERLE. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd. I do repent me; read not my name there; My heart is not confederate with my hand. YORK. It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, King; Fear, and not love, begets his penitence. Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. ”

“ 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 T'undeck the pompous body of a king; Made glory base, and sovereignty a slave, Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord- KING RICHARD. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no tide- 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! ”

“ In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, And some few vanities that make him light; But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, Besides himself, are all the English peers, And with that odds he weighs King Richard down. Post you to London, and you will find it so; I speak no more than every one doth know. QUEEN. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, Doth not thy embassage belong to me, And am I last that knows it? O, thou thinkest To serve me last, that I may longest keep Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go To meet at London London's King in woe. ”

“ KING RICHARD. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden. Learn, good soul, To think our former state a happy dream; From which awak'd, the truth of what we are Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet, To grim Necessity; and he and Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France, And cloister thee in some religious house. Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, Which our profane hours here have thrown down. QUEEN. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd and weak'ned? Hath Bolingbroke depos'd Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? ”

“ BOLINGBROKE. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Am I; who ready here do stand in arms To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, In lists on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me. And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! MARSHAL. On pain of death, no person be so bold Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, Except the Marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. BOLINGBROKE. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, And bow my knee before his Majesty ”

“ Gaunt. O! spare me not, my brother Edward's son, ⁠124
For that I was his father Edward's son.
That blood already, like the pelican,
Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly carous'd:
My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul,— ⁠128
Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls!—
May be a precedent and witness good
That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood:
Join with the present sickness that I have; ⁠132
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.
Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
These words hereafter thy tormentors be! ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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? ”

“ 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 me forth 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. ”

“ Woe doth the heavier sit Where it perceives it is but faintly home. Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour, And not the King exil'd thee; or suppose Devouring pestilence hangs in our air And thou art flying to a fresher clime. Look what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To lie that way thou goest, not whence thou com'st. Suppose the singing birds musicians, The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more Than a delightful measure or a dance; For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light. ”

“ Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breath'd this poison. KING RICHARD. Rage must be withstood: Give me his gage-lions make leopards tame. MOWBRAY. Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame, And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times barr'd-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one ”

“ Come I appellant to this princely presence.
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak ⁠36
My body shall make good upon this earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant;
Too good to be so and too bad to live, ⁠40
Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; ⁠44
And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move,
What my tongue speaks, my right drawn sword may prove. ”

“ Take honour from me, and my life is done: Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live, and for that will I die. KING RICHARD. Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. BOLINGBROKE. O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this outdar'd dastard? Ere my tongue Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear The slavish motive of recanting fear, And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. ”

“ KING RICHARD. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, The time shall not be many hours of age More than it is, ere foul sin gathering head Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think Though he divide the realm and give thee half It is too little, helping him to all; And he shall think that thou, which knowest the way To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. The love of wicked men converts to fear; That fear to hate ”