صور الصفحة
PDF
النشر الإلكتروني

Pierced to the soul with slander's venomed Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt ; spear; [blood Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all fadThe which no balm can cure, but his heart- By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe. [ed, Which breathed this poison. Ah, Gannt! bis blood was thine; that bed, Rage must be withstood: that womb, Give me his gage:-Lions make leopards tame. Nor. Yea, but not change their spots; take

K. Rich.

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;
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.

K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage;
do you begin.
[foul sin!
Boling. O, God defend my son from such
Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight?
Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
Before this out-dar'd dastard! Ere my tongue
Shall wound mine 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. [Exit GAUNT. [command:
K. Rich. We were not born to sne, but to
Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
At Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day;
There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
The swelling difference of your settled hate;
Since we cannot atone you, we shall see
Justice design+ the victor's chivalry.-
Marshal, command our officers at armis
Be ready to direct these home-alarms.[Exeunt.
SCENE II. The same. A Room in the
Duke of Lancaster's Palace.

[ocr errors]

Enter GAUNT, and Duchess of Gloster.
Gaunt. Alas! the part I bad in Gloster's
blood

Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,
To stir against the butchers of his life,
But since correction lieth in those hands,
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrrel to the will of heaven;
Who when he sees the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Duck. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper
Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? [spur
Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches springing from one
[course,
Some of those seven are dried by nature's
Some of those branches by the destinies cut:
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Glos-
One phiai full of Edward's sacred blood, [ter,-
One flourishing branch of his most royal root-

root:

[blocks in formation]

That metal, that self-mould, that fashioned
thee,
[breath'st,
Made him a man; and though thou livest and
Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair:
In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:
That which in mean men we entitle-patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
The best way is-to 'venge my Gloster's death.
Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for hea-

ven's substitute,

His deputy anointed in his sight,
Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minister.

Duch. Where, then, alas! may I complain
myself?
[and defence.
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion
Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old
Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold [Gaunt,
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's
spear,

That it inay enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
Or, if misfortune miss the first career,
Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitit! recreant to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's
wife,

With her companion grief must end her life.
Gaunt. Sister,farewell; I must to Coventry:
As much good stay with thee, as go with me!
Duch. Yetone word more ;-Griefboundeth

where it falls,

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:
I take my leave before I have begun :
For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York.
Lo, this is all:-Nay, yet depart not so;
Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
I shall remember more. Bid him-0, what?
With all good speed at Plashy ** visit me.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see,
But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
Unpeopled offices, nutrodden stones?
And what cheer there for welcome, but my
groans?
[there,
Therefore commend me; let him not come
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where:
Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die;
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.
[Exeunt.

Relationship. 6 Assent.
**Her house in Essex.

|| A base villain.

SCENE III. Gosford Green, near Coventry. Lists set out, and a Throne. Heralds, &c.

attending.

Enter the Lord Marshal, and AUMERLE. Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? [in.

Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, [trumpet. Stays but the summons of the appellant's Aum. Why then, the champions are pre

pared, and stay

For nothing but his majesty's approach. Flourish of Trumpets. Enter King RICHARD, who takes his seat on his throne; GAUNT, and several Noblemen, who take their places. A Trumpet is sounded, and answered by another Trumpet within. Then enter NORFOLK in armour, preceded by a Heraid.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder chamThe cause of his arrival here in arms: [pion Ask him his name; and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his canse. Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who thou art, [arms; And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel:

Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath;
And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour!
Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke
of Norfolk;

Who hither come engaged by my oath,
(Which,heaven defend a knight should violate!)
Both to defend my loyalty and truth,
To God, my king, and my succeeding issne,
Against the duke of Hereford that appeals me;
And, by the grace of God, and this nine arm,
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
[He takes his seat.
Trumpet sounds. Enter BOLING BROKE,
in armour, preceded by a Herald.
K. Rich. Marshal,ask yonder knight in arms,
Both who he is, and why he cometh hither
Thus plated in habiliments of war;
And formally according to our law
Depose him in the justice of his cause.

Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither,

Before King Richard,in his royal lists? [quarrel?
Against whom comest thou; and what's thy
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and
Am I; who readyhere do stand in arms, [Derby,
To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's
valour,
[folk,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray duke of Nor-
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!

Mar. On pain of death, no person be so Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists; [bold, + Brighten up.

Yielding.

Except the marshal, and such officers
Appointed to direct these fair designs.
Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my so-
vereign's hand,
And bow my knee before his majesty:
For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men
That vow a long ana weary pilgrimage;
Then let us take a ceremonious leave,
And loving farewell, of our several friends.
Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your
highness,
[leave.
And craves to kiss your hand, and take his
K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him
in our arms.

Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

boling. O, let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear; As confident, as is the falcon's flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.My loving lord, (To Lord Marshal.] I take my leave of you ;—

Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle :-
Not sick, although I have to do with death;
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:
O thon, the earthly author of my blood,-
[TO GAUNT.

Whose youthful spirit in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,-
Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,
And furbisht new the name of John of Gaunt,
Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.

Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosperous!

Be swit like lightning in the execution;
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: [live.
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and
Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George
to thrive!
[He takes his seat.
Nor. [Rising.] However heaven, or fortune,
cart my lot,
There lives or dies, trae to king Richard's
A loyal, just, and upright gentleman: [throne,
Never did captive with a freer heart
Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace
His golden uucontrol'd entranchisement,
More than my daucing soul doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine adversary.--
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years:
As gentle and as jocund, as to jest,
Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.

K. Rich. Farewell, my lord; securely i espy Virtue with valour couched in thine cyc.--Order the trial, marshal, and begin. [The King and the Lords return to their seats.

[blocks in formation]

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! Boling. [Rising.] Strong as a tower in hope, I cry-amen.

Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.] to Thomas duke of Norfolk. [Derby, 1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himOr pain to be found false and recreant, [self, To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,

A traitor to his God, his king, and him, And dares him to set forward to the fight. 2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk,

On pain to be found false and recreant, Both to defend himself, and to approve Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, To God, his sovereign, and to him, disloyal; Courageously, and with free desire, Attending but the signal to begin.

Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants, [A Charge sounded. Stay, The king hath thrown his warder* down. K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and

their spears,

And both return back to their chairs again:
Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound,
While we return these dukes what we de-
cree.-
[A long Flourish.
Draw near.
[To the Combatants.
And list, what with our council we have done.
For that ourkingdom's earth should not be soil'd
With that dear blood which it hath fostered t;
And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours'
swords;

[And for we think the eagle-winged pride
Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-hating envy, set you on [cradle
To wake our peace, which in our country's
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;]
Which so roused up with boisterous untuned

drums,

With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace,
And make us wade even in our kindred's blood;
Therefore we banish you our territories :--
You, consin Hereford,-upon pain of death,
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
Boling. Your will be done: this must my
comfort be,--
[me;
That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on
And those his golden beams, to you here lent,
Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.

K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a beavier doom,

Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
The fly-slow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exile ;—
The hopeless word of-never to return
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life,
*Truncheon. + Nursed.

Barr'd.

Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, [mouth: And all unlook'd for from your highness' A dearer merit, not so deep a maim As to be cast forth in the common air, Have I deserved at your highness' hand. The language I have learn'd these forty years, My native English, now I must forego: And now my tongue's use is to me no more, Than an unstring'd viol or a harp; Or like a cunning instrument cased up, Or, being open, put into his hands

That knows no touch to tune the harmony. Within my mouth you have engaol'd my

[blocks in formation]

Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,
(Our part therein we banish with, yourselves,)
To keep the oath that we administer:-
You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!)
Embrace each other's love in banishment;
Nor never look upon each other's face;
Nor never write, regrect, nor reconcile
This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate;
Nor never by advised || purpose meet,
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,
'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
Boling. I swear.

Nor. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy ;—— By this time, had the king permitted us, One of our souls had wander'd in the air, Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realin; Since thon hast far to go, bear not along The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

Nor. No, Bolingbroke, if ever I were traitor,

My name be blotted from the book of life, And I from heaven banish'd, as from bence! But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do

know;

rue.

And all too soon, I fear, the king shall Farewell, my liege:-Now no way can I stray; Save back to England, all the world's my [Exit.

way.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine

[blocks in formation]
[merged small][ocr errors][merged small][merged small][merged small][merged small]

Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou

row:

[morrow:
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a
Thon canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
Thy word is current with him for my death;
But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy any breath.
K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good
advice*,

Gaunt. What is six winters? they are
quickly gone..
[one hour ten.
Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes
Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak'st for
pleasure.
[it so,
Boling. My heart will sigh, when I miscali
Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.
Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary
steps

Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home-return.
Boling. 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,

Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sor-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: [sit,
But thou the king: Woe doth the heavier
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go, say-I sent thee forth to purchase honour,
And not-the king exiled thee: or suppose,
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy soul holds dear, itnagine it
To lie that way thon go'st, not whence thou
Suppose the singing birds, musicians; [comest:
The grass whereon thou tread'st, the pre-
sence strew'd;
[more

Whereto thy tongue a party + verdict gave;
Why atour justice seem'st thou then to lower?
Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in
digestion sour.

You urged me as a judge; but I had rather
You would have bid me argue like a father:-
O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
To smooth his fault I should have been more
A partial slander sought I to avoid, [mild:
And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
Alas, I look'd, when some of you should say,
I was too strict, to make my own away;
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will to do my self this wrong.
K. Rich. Cousin, farewell:—and, uncle,

bid him so;

Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
[Flourish. Exeunt K. RICHARD and Train.
Aum. Cousin, farewell: what presence must
not know,

From where you do remain, let paper show.
Mar. My lord, no leave take 1; for I will
ride,

As far as land will let me, by your side.
Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard
thy words,

That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
Boling. I have too few to take my leave

of you,

When the tongue's office should be prodigal
To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a
time.
[time.

Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that

Consideration.
Grief.

The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no
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.

Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good,
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,
Than when it bites, but fanceth not the sore.
Gaunt. Come, come; my son, PH bring thee

on thy way:

Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stayi
Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell;

sweet soil, adieu;

My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where-e'er I wander, boast of this I can,----
Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV. The same. A Room in the
King's Castle.

Enter King RICHARD, BAGOT, and GREEN
AUMERLE following.

K. Rich. We did observe.-Cousin Aumerio,

[blocks in formation]

How far brought you high Hereford on his
way?
[him so,
Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call
But to the next highway, and there I left him.
K. Rich. And say, what store of parting
tears were shed?
[east wind,
Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the north-
Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
Awaked the sleeping rheum; aud so, by
chance,

Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you
Aum. Farewell:
[parted with him?
And, for my heart disdained that my tongue
Should so profane the word, that taught me
craft

To counterfeit oppression of such grief,
That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's
grave.
[en'd hours,
Marry, would the word farewell have length-
And added years to his short banishment,
He should have had a volume of farewells;
But, since it would not, he had none of me.
K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis
doubt,
[ment,
When time shall call him home from banish-
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
Qurself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,
Observed his courtship to the common people:
How he did seem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtesy ;

What reverence he did throw away on slaves;
Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of
smiles,

And patient underbearing of his fortune,
As 'twere, to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;

A brace of draymen bid -God speed him well,
And had the tribute of his supple knee.

[blocks in formation]

ACT II.

SCENE I. London. A Room in Ely-house. | Writ in remembrance, more than things long

GAUNT on a Couch; the Duke of YORK, and Others standing by him.

Gaunt. Will the king come? that I may breathe my last

In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;

For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.

past:

[hear, Though Richard my life's counsel would not My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. York. No; it is stopp'd with other ffatter

ing sounds,

As, praises of his state: then, there are found
Lascivious metres; to whose venom sound
The open ear of youth doth always listen:
Report of fashions in proud Italy;

Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of Whose manners still our tardy apish nation

dying men

Enforce attention, like deep harmony:
Where words are scarce, they are seldom
spent in vain :
[words in pain.
For they breathe truth, that breathe their
He, that no more must say, is listen'd more
Than they whom youth and ease have taught
to gloset;

More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives
before:

The setting sun, and music at the close, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; • Expeditious.

Limps after, in base imitation,
Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity,
(So it be new, there's no respect how vile),
That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears?
Then all too late comes counsel to be heard,
Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
Direct not him, whose way himself will
choose;
[thou lose.

'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wit
Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new
inspired;

And thus, expiring, do foretel of him: † Because.

t Flatter.

« السابقةمتابعة »