THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING RICHARD II. ACT I. SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace. Enter King RICHARD, attended; JOHN OF GAUNT, and other Nobles, with him. K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancas ter, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,1 K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, If he appeal the duke on ancient malice, Or worthily, as a good subject should, On some known ground of treachery in him? Gaunt. As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger seen in him, Aim'd at your highness; no inveterate malice. K. Rich. Then call them to our presence: face to face, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear [Exeunt some Attendants. High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. Re-enter Attendants, with BOLINGBROKE and Norfolk. Boling. Full' many years of happy days befal My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! 1 band and bond are used indifferently. 2 This word is not in f. e. Nor. Each day still better other's happiness; Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown! K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, Tendering the precious safety of my prince, What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword may prove. Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal. 'T is not the trial of a woman's war, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me I do defy him, and I spit at him; Call him a slanderous coward, and a villain: 1 from other in f. e. 2 reins and spurs: in f. e. Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my Disclaiming here the kindred of the king; [gage, And lay aside my high blood's royalty, Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except: If guilty dread have left thee so much strength, As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop. By that and all the rites of knighthood else, Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, What I have spoke, or thou canst worse' devise. Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I swear, Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, I'll answer thee in any fair degree, Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: And, when I mount, alive may I not light, If I be traitor, or unjustly fight! K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? It must be great, that can inherit us So much as of a thought of ill in him. Boling. Look, what I speak3, my life shall prove it true: That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles, Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. Upon his bad life to make all this good, That he did plot the duke of Gloster's death; 1 Uninhabitable: often so used by contemporary writers. 2 From the quarto, 1597. 3 So the folio; quarto, 1597: said. 5 Incite. 4 Wicked. Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of blood: K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars !— K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes, and ears: Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Since last I went to France to fetch his queen. 1 From the quarto, 1597. 2 dear in f. e. And interchangeably hurl down my gage To prove myself a loyal gentleman Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. Your highness to assign our trial day. K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by me. Let's purge this choler without letting blood: This we prescribe, though no physician; 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. K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. Gaunt. When, Harry? when? Obedience bids, I should not bid again. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there is no boot. Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame : The one my duty owes; but my fair name, Despite of death that lives upon my grave, To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here; 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. K. Rich. Rage must be withstood. Give me his gage:-lions make leopards' tame. Nor. 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. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one: |