So, now I have mine own again, begone, K. RICH. We make woe wanton with this fond delay; [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Duke of York's Palace Enter YORK and his DUCHESS. DUCH. My lord, you told me you would tell the rest, When weeping made you break the story off At that sad stop, my lord, Of our two cousins coming into London. Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course, DUCH. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the whilst? After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd But Heaven hath a hand in these events; To whose high will we bound our calm contents. Enter AUMERLE. DUCH. Here comes my son Aumerle. YORK. Aumerle that was; But that is lost, for being Richard's friend, And, madam, you must call him Rutland now: DUCH. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets now YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs? AUм. For aught I know, my lord, they do. YORK. You will be there, I know. AUм. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. YORK. What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom? Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing. AUм. My lord, 't is nothing. YORK. No matter then who sees it: I will be satisfied,-let me see the writing. AUм. I do beseech your grace to pardon me; It is a matter of small consequence, Which for some reasons I would not have seen. DUCH. What should you fear? "T is nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day. YORK. Bound to himself? what doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.— not show it. Boy, let me see the writing. [Snatches it, and reads. Treason! foul treason!-villain! traitor! slave! Enter a Servant. Saddle my horse. Heaven for his mercy! what treachery is here! DUCH. Why, what is 't, my lord? YORK. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse: Now by my honour, by my life, my troth, I will appeach the villain. DUCH. [Exit Servant. What's the matter? YORK. Peace, foolish woman. DUCH. I will not peace:-What is the matter, son? AUм. Good mother, be content; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. DUCH. Thy life answer? Re-enter Servant, with boots. YORK. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. DUCH. Strike him, Aumerle.—Poor boy, thou art amaz’d: Hence, villain; never more come in my sight. YORK. Give me my boots, I say. [To the Servant. DUCH. Why, York, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, To kill the king at Oxford. DUCH. He shall be none; We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him? Fond woman! were he twenty times my son DUCH. Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou 'dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect And that he is a bastard, not thy son: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: Not like to me, or any of my kin, YORK. Make way, unruly woman. DUCH. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his horse; SCENE III.-Windsor. [Exit. [Exeunt. A Room in the Castle. Enter BOLINGBROKE, as King; PERCY, and other Lords. I would to Heaven, my lords, he might be found: Takes on the point of honour, to support So dissolute a crew. PERCY. My lord, some two days since I saw the prince, And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. BOLING. And what said the gallant? PERCY. His answer was, he would unto the stews, And wear it as a favour; and with that BOLING. As dissolute as desperate: yet through both Which elder days may happily bring forth. But who comes here? AUM. BOLING. Enter AUMERLE, hastily. Where is the king? What means Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? AUM. God save your grace. I do beseech your majesty, To have some conference with your grace alone. BOLING. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. [Exeunt PERCY and Lords. What is the matter with our cousin now? AUм. For ever may my knees grow to the earth, [Kneels. My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak. BOLING. Intended, or committed, was this fault? If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, To win thy after-love, I pardon thee. AUM. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done. BOLING. Have thy desire. [AUMERLE locks the door. YORK. [Within.] My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. BOLING. Villain, I'll make thee safe. AUM. Stay thy revengeful hand; Thou hast no cause to fear. [Drawing. YORK. [Within.] Open the door, secure, fool-hardy king; Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? |