William Shakespeare

“ Deep malice makes too deep incision: Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed, Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. Good uncle, let this end where it begun; We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. GAUNT.
To be a make-peace shall become my age: Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. KING RICHARD.
And, Norfolk, throw down his. GAUNT.
When, Harry, when? Obedience bids I should not bid again. KING RICHARD.
Norfolk, throw down; we bid; There is no boot. MOWBRAY.
Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: The one my duty owes ”

“ 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, loss, decay; The worst is death, and death will have his day. ”

“ Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! 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's 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. ”

“ 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 down your gage: do you begin. BOLINGBROKE.
O! God defend my soul from such deep sin. Shall I seem crest-fall'n 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. ”

“ To please the King, I did; to please myself I cannot do it; yet I know no cause Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest As my sweet Richard: yet again methinks, Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, Is coming towards me, and my inward soul With nothing trembles; at some thing it grieves More than with parting from my lord the king. BUSHY.
Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects ”

“ Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment, Nor Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. I am the last of noble Edward's sons, Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first; In war was never lion rag'd more fierce, In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, Than was that young and princely gentleman. ”

“ Hath Bolingbroke depos'd Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, Take the correction mildly, kiss the rod, And fawn on rage with base humility, Which art a lion and the king of beasts? KING RICHARD.
A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts, I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometimes queen, prepare thee hence for France. Think I am dead, and that even here thou tak'st, As from my death-bed, thy last living leave. ”

“ 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 ”

“ Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. YORK.
Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. KING RICHARD.
The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he: His time is spent; our pilgrimage must be. So much for that. Now for our Irish wars. We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, Which live like venom where no venom else But only they have privilege to live. And for these great affairs do ask some charge, Towards our assistance we do seize to us The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables, Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. ”

“ 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. ”

“ They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seiz'd the wasteful King. O! what pity is it That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees, Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood, With too much riches it confound itself: Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have liv'd to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty: superfluous branches We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: Had he done so, himself had home the crown, Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ The shadow of my sorrow! Ha! let's see: 'Tis very true: my grief lies all within; And these external manner of laments Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortur'd 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? BOLINGBROKE.
Name it, fair cousin. KING RICHARD.
'Fair cousin'! I am greater than a king; For when I was a king, my flatterers Were then but subjects ”

“ O King, believe not this hard-hearted man: Love, loving not itself, none other can. YORK.
Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? DUCHESS.
Sweet York, be patient. [Kneels.] Hear me, gentle liege. BOLINGBROKE.
Rise up, good aunt. DUCHESS.
Not yet, I thee beseech. For ever will I walk upon my knees, And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy: until thou bid me joy By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. AUMERLE.
Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. [Kneels.] ”

“ QUEEN.
'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv'd From some forefather grief; mine is not so, For nothing hath begot my something grief, Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: 'Tis in reversion that I do possess; But what it is, that is not yet known; what I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. [Enter GREEN.]
GREEN.
God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: I hope the King is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. QUEEN.
Why hop'st thou so? 'Tis better hope he is, For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? ”

“ T'one is my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend; the other again Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster up your men, And meet me presently at Berkeley Castle. I should to Plashy too: But time will not permit. All is uneven, And everything is left at six and seven. [Exeunt YORK and QUEEN.]
BUSHY.
The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, But none returns. For us to levy power Proportionable to the enemy Is all unpossible. ”

“ How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? KING RICHARD.
What comfort, man? How is't with aged Gaunt? GAUNT.
O! how that name befits my composition; Old Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt in being old: Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt. The pleasure that some fathers feed upon Is my strict fast, I mean my children's looks; And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt. Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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 ”

“ 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. ”

“ 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. ”

“ BOLINGBROKE.
First,—heaven be the record to my speech!— In the devotion of a subject's love, Tendering the precious safety of my prince, And free from other misbegotten hate, Come I appellant to this princely presence. Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, And mark my greeting well; for what I speak 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, Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. ”

“ 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. BOLINGBROKE.
O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy! O loyal father of a treacherous son! Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain, From whence this stream through muddy passages Hath held his current and defil'd himself! Thy overflow of good converts to bad; And thy abundant goodness shall excuse This deadly blot in thy digressing son. ”

“ BOLINGBROKE.
Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make Will but remember me what a deal of world I wander from the jewels that I love. Must I not serve a long apprenticehood To foreign passages, and in the end, Having my freedom, boast of nothing else But that I was a journeyman to grief? GAUNT.
All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus; There is no virtue like necessity. Think not the king did banish thee, But thou the king. ”