William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition (174 page)
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Authors: William Shakespeare
Tags: #Drama, #Literary Criticism, #Shakespeare
BOOK: William Shakespeare: The Complete Works 2nd Edition
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YORK
Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
Lest you be cropped before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? Hold these jousts and triumphs?
Lest you be cropped before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? Hold these jousts and triumphs?
AUMERLE
For aught I know, my lord, they do.
YORK
You will be there, I know.
AUMERLE
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.
Yea, look’st thou pale? Let me see the writing.
AUMERLE
My lord, ’tis nothing.
YORK
No matter, then, who see it.
I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing.
AUMERLE
I do beseech your grace to pardon me.
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
YORK
Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
I fear, I fear!
I fear, I fear!
DUCHESS OF YORK
What should you fear?
‘Tis nothing but some bond that he is entered into
For gay apparel ’gainst the triumph day.
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.
Boy, let me see the writing.
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
Boy, let me see the writing.
AUMERLE
I do beseech you, pardon me. I may not show it.
YORK
I will be satisfied. Let me see it, I say.
He plucks it out of Aumerle’s bosom, and reads it
Treason, foul treason ! Villain, traitor, slave !
DUCHESS OF YORK What is the matter, my lord?
YORK
Ho, who is within there? Saddle my horse.—
God for his mercy, what treachery is here I
God for his mercy, what treachery is here I
DUCHESS of YORK Why, what is it, my lord?
YORK
Give me my boots, I say. Saddle my horse.—
Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth,
I will appeach the villain.
Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth,
I will appeach the villain.
DUCHESS OF YORK What is the matter?
YORK Peace, foolish woman.
DUCHESS OF YORK
I will not peace. What is the matter, son?
AUMERLE
Good mother, be content. It is no more
Than my poor life must answer.
Than my poor life must answer.
DUCHESS OF YORK
Thy life answer?
YORK
Bring me my boots. I will unto the King.
His man enters with his boots
DUCHESS OF YORK
Strike him, Aumerle! Poor boy, thou art amazed.
(
To York’s man
) Hence, villain! Never more come in my sight.
(
To York’s man
) Hence, villain! Never more come in my sight.
YORK
Give me my boots, I say.
DUCHESS OF YORK
Why, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
Have we more sons? Or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
And rob me of a happy mother’s name?
Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own?
Have we more sons? Or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
And rob me of a happy mother’s name?
Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own?
YORK Thou fond, mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
A dozen of them here have ta’en the sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their hands
To kill the King at Oxford.
A dozen of them here have ta’en the sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their hands
To kill the King at Oxford.
DUCHESS OF YORK
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
I would appeach him.
I would appeach him.
DUCHESS OF YORK
Hadst thou groaned for him
As I have done thou wouldst be more pitiful.
But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect
That I have been disloyal to thy bed,
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,
And yet I love him.
But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect
That I have been disloyal to thy bed,
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,
And yet I love him.
YORK Make way, unruly woman.
Exit
⌈
with his man
⌉
⌈
with his man
⌉
DUCHESS OF YORK
After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse.
Spur, post, and get before him to the King,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
I’ll not be long behind—though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York—
And never will I rise up from the ground
Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, be gone I
Spur, post, and get before him to the King,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
I’ll not be long behind—though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York—
And never will I rise up from the ground
Till Bolingbroke have pardoned thee. Away, be gone I
Exeunt
⌈
severally
⌉
5.3⌈
severally
⌉
Enter Bolingbroke, crowned King Henry, with Harry Percy, and other nobles
KING HENRY
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.
Enquire at London ’mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent
With unrestrained loose companions—
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes
And beat our watch and rob our passengers—
Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew.
‘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.
Enquire at London ’mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent
With unrestrained loose companions—
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes
And beat our watch and rob our passengers—
Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew.
HARRY PERCY
My lord, some two days since, I saw the Prince,
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford.
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford.
KING HENRY And what said the gallant?
HARRY PERCY
His answer was he would unto the stews,
And from the common’st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour, and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
And from the common’st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour, and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
KING HENRY
As dissolute as desperate. Yet through both
I see some sparks of better hope, which elder days
May happily bring forth.
I see some sparks of better hope, which elder days
May happily bring forth.
Enter the Duke of Aumerle, amazed
But who comes here?
AUMERLE Where is the King?
KING HENRY
What means our cousin that he stares and looks so wildly?
AUMERLE
(kneeling)
(kneeling)
God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty
To have some conference with your grace alone.
To have some conference with your grace alone.
KING HENRY (to lords)
Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
Exeunt all but King Henry and Aumerle
What is the matter with our cousin now?
AUMERLE
For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
My tongue cleave to the roof within my mouth,
Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
My tongue cleave to the roof within my mouth,
Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
KING HENRY
Intended or committed was this fault?
If on the first, how heinous e’er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
If on the first, how heinous e’er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
AUMERLE (
rising
)
rising
)
Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
That no man enter till my tale be done.
That no man enter till my tale be done.
KING HENRY
Have thy desire.
Aumerle locks the door.The Duke of York knocks at the door and crieth
YORK (within) My liege, beware! Look to thyself!
Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
King Henry draws his sword
KING HENRY (to
Aumerle)
Villain, I’ll make thee safe.
Aumerle)
Villain, I’ll make thee safe.
AUMERLE
Stay thy revengeful hand! Thou hast no cause to fear.
YORK (
knocking within
)
knocking within
)
Open the door, secure foolhardy King!
Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
Open the door, or I will break it open.
Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
Open the door, or I will break it open.
⌈
King Henry
⌉
opens the door. Enter the Duke of York
KING HENRY
What is the matter, uncle? Speak,
Recover breath, tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.
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.
The treason that my haste forbids me show.
He gives King Henry the paper
AUMERLE
Remember, as thou read’st, thy promise past.
I do repent me. Read not my name there.
My heart is not confederate with my hand.
I do repent me. Read not my name there.
My heart is not confederate with my hand.
YORK
It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
I tore it from the traitor’s bosom, King.
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence.
Forget to pity him, lest pity prove
A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
I tore it from the traitor’s bosom, King.
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence.
Forget to pity him, lest pity prove
A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
KING HENRY
O, heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!
O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain,
From whence this stream through muddy passages
Hath held his current and defiled himself,
Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain,
From whence this stream through muddy passages
Hath held his current and defiled himself,
Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
YORK
So shall my virtue be his vice’s bawd,
And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
As thriftless sons their scraping fathers’ gold.
Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies.
Thou kill’st me in his life: giving him breath
The traitor lives, the true man’s put to death.
And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
As thriftless sons their scraping fathers’ gold.
Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies.
Thou kill’st me in his life: giving him breath
The traitor lives, the true man’s put to death.
DUCHESS OF YORK (
within
)
within
)
What ho, my liege, for God’s sake let me in!
KING HENRY
What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
DUCHESS OF YORK (
within
)
within
)
A woman, and thy aunt, great King; ’tis I.
Speak with me, pity me! Open the door!
A beggar begs that never begged before.
Speak with me, pity me! Open the door!
A beggar begs that never begged before.
KING HENRY
Our scene is altered from a serious thing,
And now changed to ‘The Beggar and the King’.
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in.
I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
And now changed to ‘The Beggar and the King’.
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in.
I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
Aumerle opens the door. Enter the Duchess of York
YORK
If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound.
This let alone will all the rest confound.
More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound.
This let alone will all the rest confound.
DUCHESS OF YORK (
kneeling
)
kneeling
)
O King, believe not this hard-hearted man.
Love loving not itself, none other can.
Love loving not itself, none other can.
YORK
Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
DUCHESS OF YORK
Sweet York, be patient.—Hear me, gentle liege.
Sweet York, be patient.—Hear me, gentle liege.
KING HENRY
Rise up, good aunt.
DUCHESS OF YORK Not yet, I thee beseech.
Forever will I kneel upon my knees,
And never see day that the happy sees,
Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
And never see day that the happy sees,
Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
AUMERLE
(kneeling)
(kneeling)
Unto my mother’s prayers I bend my knee.
YORK
(kneeling)
(kneeling)
Against them both my true joints bended be.
Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace.
Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace.
DUCHESS OF YORK
Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face.
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest.
His words come from his mouth; ours from our
breast.
He prays but faintly, and would be denied;
We pray with heart and soul, and all beside.
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow.
His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.
Our prayers do outpray his; then let them have
That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest.
His words come from his mouth; ours from our
breast.
He prays but faintly, and would be denied;
We pray with heart and soul, and all beside.
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow.
His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.
Our prayers do outpray his; then let them have
That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
⌈KING HENRY⌉
Good aunt, stand up.
DUCHESS OF YORK Nay, do not say ‘Stand up’.
Say ‘Pardon’ first, and afterwards ‘Stand up’.
An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
‘Pardon’ should be the first word of thy speech.
I never longed to hear a word till now.
Say ‘Pardon’, King. Let pity teach thee how.
The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like ’Pardon’ for kings’ mouths so meet.
An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
‘Pardon’ should be the first word of thy speech.
I never longed to hear a word till now.
Say ‘Pardon’, King. Let pity teach thee how.
The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like ’Pardon’ for kings’ mouths so meet.
YORK
Speak it in French, King: say ‘Pardonnez-moi’.
DUCHESS OF YORK
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