The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

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 Ev’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.

SERVANT. What, think you the King shall be deposed?

GARDENER. Depress’d he is already, and depos’d ‘Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good Duke of York’s That tell black tidings.

QUEEN. O, I am press’d to death through want of speaking!

[Coming forward]

Thou, old Adam’s likeness, set to dress this garden, How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?

What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested the To make a second fall of cursed man?

Why dost thou say King Richard is depos’d?

Dar’st thou, thou little better thing than earth, Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how, Cam’st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch.

GARDENER. Pardon me, madam; little joy have To breathe this news; yet what I say is true.

King Richard, he is in the mighty hold Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weigh’d.

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.

What, was I born to this, that my sad look Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?

Gard’ner, for telling me these news of woe, Pray God the plants thou graft’st may never grow!

Exeunt QUEEN and LADIES

GARDENER. Poor Queen, so that thy state might be no worse, I would my skill were subject to thy curse.

Here did she fall a tear; here in this place I’ll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace.

Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping queen. Exeunt

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ACT IV. SCENE 1.

Westminster Hall

 

Enter, as to the Parliament, BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, and others; HERALD, OFFICERS, and BAGOT

 

BOLINGBROKE. Call forth Bagot.

Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind—

What thou dost know of noble Gloucester’s death; Who wrought it with the King, and who perform’d The bloody office of his timeless end.

BAGOT. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.

BOLINGBROKE. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.

BAGOT. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver’d.

In that dead time when Gloucester’s death was plotted I heard you say ‘Is not my arm of length, That reacheth from the restful English Court As far as Calais, to mine uncle’s head?’

Amongst much other talk that very time I heard you say that you had rather refuse The offer of an hundred thousand crowns Than Bolingbroke’s return to England; Adding withal, how blest this land would be In this your cousin’s death.

AUMERLE. Princes, and noble lords,

What answer shall I make to this base man?

Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars On equal terms to give him chastisement?

Either I must, or have mine honour soil’d With the attainder of his slanderous lips.

There is my gage, the manual seal of death That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest, And will maintain what thou hast said is false In thy heart-blood, through being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword.

BOLINGBROKE. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.

AUMERLE. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence that hath mov’d me so.

FITZWATER. If that thy valour stand on sympathy, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine.

By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand’st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak’st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester’s death.

If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier’s point.

AUMERLE. Thou dar’st not, coward, live to see that day.

FITZWATER. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.

AUMERLE. Fitzwater, thou art damn’d to hell for this.

PERCY. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true In this appeal as thou art an unjust; And that thou art so, there I throw my gage, To prove it on thee to the extremest point Of mortal breathing. Seize it, if thou dar’st.

AUMERLE. An if I do not, may my hands rot of And never brandish more revengeful steel Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

ANOTHER LORD. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle; And spur thee on with fun as many lies As may be halloa’d in thy treacherous ear From sun to sun. There is my honour’s pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.

AUMERLE. Who sets me else? By heaven, I’ll throw at all!

I have a thousand spirits in one breast To answer twenty thousand such as you.

SURREY. My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well The very time Aumerle and you did talk.

FITZWATER. ‘Tis very true; you were in presence then, And you can witness with me this is true.

SURREY. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.

FITZWATER. Surrey, thou liest.

SURREY. Dishonourable boy!

That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword That it shall render vengeance and revenge Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do he In earth as quiet as thy father’s skull.

In proof whereof, there is my honour’s pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar’st.

FITZWATER. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!

If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,

And spit upon him whilst I say he lies, And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.

As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal.

Besides, I heard the banish’d Norfolk say That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble Duke at Calais.

AUMERLE. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage That Norfolk lies. Here do I throw down this, If he may be repeal’d to try his honour.

BOLINGBROKE. These differences shall all rest under gage Till Norfolk be repeal’d-repeal’d he shall be And, though mine enemy, restor’d again To all his lands and signories. When he is return’d, Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.

CARLISLE. That honourable day shall never be seen.

Many a time hath banish’d Norfolk fought For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; And, toil’d with works of war, retir’d himself To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave

His body to that pleasant country’s earth, And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long.

BOLINGBROKE. Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?

CARLISLE. As surely as I live, my lord.

BOLINGBROKE. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants, Your differences shall all rest under gage Till we assign you to your days of trial Enter YORK, attended

 

YORK. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to the From plume-pluck’d Richard, who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand.

Ascend his throne, descending now from him-And long live Henry, fourth of that name!

BOLINGBROKE. In God’s name, I’ll ascend the regal throne.

CARLISLE. Marry, God forbid!

Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.

Would God that any in this noble presence Were enough noble to be upright judge Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.

What subject can give sentence on his king?

And who sits here that is not Richard’s subject?

Thieves are not judg’d but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them; And shall the figure of God’s majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect,

Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judg’d by subject and inferior breath, And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God, That in a Christian climate souls refin’d Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!

I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr’d up by God, thus boldly for his king.

My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford’s king; And if you crown him, let me prophesy-The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul act; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound; Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,

Shall here inhabit, and this land be call’d The field of Golgotha and dead men’s skulls.

O, if you raise this house against this house, It will the woefullest division prove That ever fell upon this cursed earth.

Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, Lest child, child’s children, cry against you woe.

NORTHUMBERLAND. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains, Of capital treason we arrest you here.

My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge To keep him safely till his day of trial.

May it please you, lords, to grant the commons’ suit?

BOLINGBROKE. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view He may surrender; so we shall proceed Without suspicion.

YORK. I will be his conduct. Exit BOLINGBROKE. Lords, you that here are under our arrest, Procure your sureties for your days of answer.

Little are we beholding to your love, And little look’d for at your helping hands.

 

Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and OFFICERS

bearing the regalia

 

KING RICHARD. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign’d? I hardly yet have learn’d To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.

Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me

To this submission. Yet I well remember The favours of these men. Were they not mine?

Did they not sometime cry ‘All hail!’ to me?

So Judas did to Christ; but he, in twelve, Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.

God save the King! Will no man say amen?

Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, amen.

God save the King! although I be not he; And yet,