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? Is he not like thee? is he not thine own? 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? York. Away, 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: He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, Duch. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his horse; Spur, post; and get before him to the king, [Exeunt. SCENE III. Windsor. A room in the castle. Enter Bolingbroke as king; Percy, and other lords. Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son? 'Tis full three months, since I did see him last:If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. I would to God, my lords, he might be found: Even such, they say, as stand in narrow laues, Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. Percy. His answer was,-he would unto the stews; Boling. As dissolute, as desperate: yet, through both I see some sparkles of a better hope, Which elder days may happily bring forth. But who comes here? Enter Aumerle, hastily. Aum. Boling. 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 [Exeunt Percy and lords. alone. What is the matter with our cousin now? [Kneels. My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Boling. Intended, or committed, was this fault? If but 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 thy. self; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. [Drawing. Thou hast no cause to fear. York. [Within.] Open the door, secure, fool-hardy king: Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open. [Bolingbroke opens the door. Enter York. Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show. I do repent me; read not my name there, York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king: O loyal father of a treacherous son! Thou sheer*, immaculate, and silver fountain, And thy abundant goodness shall excuse York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; * Transparent. + Transgressing. Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this eager cry? Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; 'tis I. Speak with me, pity me, open the door; A beggar begs, that never begg'd before. Boling. Our scene is alter'd,- from a serious thing, And now chang'd to The Beggar and the King*.-- Enter Duchess. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted man; Love, loving not itself, none other can. York. Thou frantick woman, what dost thou maket here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gentle [Kneels. liege. Boling. Rise up, good aunt. Duch. Not yet, I thee beseech: For ever will I kneel upon my knees, And never see day that the happy sees, knee. [Kneels. York. Against them both, my true joints bend. ed be. [Kneels. Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; |