Shakespeare's Henriad (Book 1-4). William Hazlitt

Shakespeare's Henriad (Book 1-4) - William  Hazlitt


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in his clouds on our behalf

       Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike

       Your children yet unborn and unbegot,

       That lift your vassal hands against my head

       And threat the glory of my precious crown.

       Tell Bolingbroke,—for yond methinks he stands,—

       That every stride he makes upon my land

       Is dangerous treason; he is come to open

       The purple testament of bleeding war;

       But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,

       Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers’ sons

       Shall ill become the flower of England’s face,

       Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace

       To scarlet indignation, and bedew

       Her pastures’ grass with faithful English blood.

      NORTHUMBERLAND.

       The King of Heaven forbid our lord the King

       Should so with civil and uncivil arms

       Be rush’d upon! Thy thrice noble cousin,

       Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand;

       And by the honourable tomb he swears

       That stands upon your royal grandsire’s bones,

       And by the royalties of both your bloods,

       Currents that spring from one most gracious head,

       And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,

       And by the worth and honour of himself,

       Comprising all that may be sworn or said,

       His coming hither hath no further scope

       Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg

       Enfranchisement immediate on his knees;

       Which on thy royal party granted once,

       His glittering arms he will commend to rust,

       His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart

       To faithful service of your Majesty.

       This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;

       And as I am a gentleman I credit him.

      KING RICHARD.

       Northumberland, say, thus the king returns:

       His noble cousin is right welcome hither;

       And all the number of his fair demands

       Shall be accomplish’d without contradiction.

       With all the gracious utterance thou hast

       Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.

      [NORTHUMBERLAND retires to BOLINGBROKE.]

      [To AUMERLE.] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,

       To look so poorly and to speak so fair?

       Shall we call back Northumberland, and send

       Defiance to the traitor, and so die?

      AUMERLE.

       No, good my lord; let’s fight with gentle words

       Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.

      KING RICHARD.

       O God, O God! that e’er this tongue of mine

       That laid the sentence of dread banishment

       On yond proud man should take it off again

       With words of sooth! O! that I were as great

       As is my grief, or lesser than my name,

       Or that I could forget what I have been,

       Or not remember what I must be now.

       Swell’st thou, proud heart? I’ll give thee scope to beat,

       Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.

      AUMERLE.

       Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.

      KING RICHARD.

       What must the King do now? Must he submit?

       The king shall do it: must he be depos’d?

       The king shall be contented: must he lose

       The name of king? A God’s name, let it go:

       I’ll give my jewels for a set of beads,

       My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,

       My gay apparel for an almsman’s gown,

       My figur’d goblets for a dish of wood,

       My sceptre for a palmer’s walking-staff,

       My subjects for a pair of carved saints,

       And my large kingdom for a little grave,

       A little little grave, an obscure grave;

       Or I’ll be buried in the king’s highway,

       Some way of common trade, where subjects’ feet

       May hourly trample on their sovereign’s head;

       For on my heart they tread now whilst I live;

       And buried once, why not upon my head?

       Aumerle, thou weep’st, my tender-hearted cousin!

       We’ll make foul weather with despised tears;

       Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn

       And make a dearth in this revolting land.

       Or shall we play the wantons with our woes

       And make some pretty match with shedding tears?

       As thus: to drop them still upon one place

       Till they have fretted us a pair of graves

       Within the earth; and, there inlaid: ‘There lies

       Two kinsmen digg’d their graves with weeping eyes.’

       Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see

       I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.

       Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,

       What says King Bolingbroke? will his Majesty

       Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?

       You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.

      NORTHUMBERLAND.

       My lord, in the base court he doth attend

       To speak with you; may it please you to come down?

      KING RICHARD.

       Down, down I come; like glist’ring Phaethon,

       Wanting the manage of unruly jades.

       In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,

       To come at traitors’ calls, and do them grace.

       In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!

       For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.

      [Exeunt from above.]

      BOLINGBROKE.

       What says his Majesty?

      NORTHUMBERLAND.

       Sorrow and grief of heart

       Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man;

       Yet he is come.

      [Enter KING RICHARD, and his attendants.]

      BOLINGBROKE.

       Stand all apart,

       And show fair duty to his Majesty.[Kneeling.]

       My gracious lord,—

      KING


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