text stringlengths 1 3.08k |
|---|
DUKE OF AUMERLE: I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, But to the next highway, and there I left him. |
KING RICHARD II: And say, what store of parting tears were shed? |
DUKE OF AUMERLE: Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind, Which then blew bitterly against our faces, Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. |
KING RICHARD II: What said our cousin when you parted with him? |
DUKE OF AUMERLE: 'Farewell:' And, for my heart disdained that my tongue Should so profane the word, that taught me craft To counterfeit oppression of such grief That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours And added years to his short banishment, He should have h... |
KING RICHARD II: He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, When time shall call him home from banishment, Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green Observed his courtship to the common people; How he did seem to dive into their hearts With humble and familiar courtesy, What re... |
GREEN: Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, Expedient manage must be made, my liege, Ere further leisure yield them further means For their advantage and your highness' loss. |
KING RICHARD II: We will ourself in person to this war: And, for our coffers, with too great a court And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, We are inforced to farm our royal realm; The revenue whereof shall furnish us For our affairs in hand: if that come short, Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters... |
BUSHY: Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord, Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste To entreat your majesty to visit him. |
KING RICHARD II: Where lies he? |
BUSHY: At Ely House. |
KING RICHARD II: Now put it, God, in the physician's mind To help him to his grave immediately! The lining of his coffers shall make coats To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: Pray God we may make haste, and come too late! |
All: Amen. |
JOHN OF GAUNT: Will the king come, that I may breathe my last In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? |
DUKE OF YORK: Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. |
JOHN OF GAUNT: O, but they say the tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep harmony: Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain, For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain. He that no more must say is listen'd more Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose; More are men's ends m... |
DUKE OF YORK: No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound The open ear of youth doth always listen; Report of fashions in proud Italy, Whose manners still our tardy apish nation Limps after in base imitation. Where doth the world ... |
JOHN OF GAUNT: Methinks I am a prophet new inspired And thus expiring do foretell of him: His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last, For violent fires soon burn out themselves; Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes; With eager feeding food doth choke the feed... |
DUKE OF YORK: The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; For young hot colts being raged do rage the more. |
QUEEN: How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster? |
KING RICHARD II: What comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt? |
JOHN OF GAUNT: O how that name befits my composition! Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old: Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt? For sleeping England long time have I watch'd; Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: The pleasure that some fathers feed upon... |
KING RICHARD II: Can sick men play so nicely with their names? |
JOHN OF GAUNT: No, misery makes sport to mock itself: Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. |
KING RICHARD II: Should dying men flatter with those that live? |
JOHN OF GAUNT: No, no, men living flatter those that die. |
KING RICHARD II: Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me. |
JOHN OF GAUNT: O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be. |
KING RICHARD II: I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. |
JOHN OF GAUNT: Now He that made me knows I see thee ill; Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land Wherein thou liest in reputation sick; And thou, too careless patient as thou art, Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure Of those physicians that first wounded thee: A thousa... |
KING RICHARD II: A lunatic lean-witted fool, Presuming on an ague's privilege, Darest with thy frozen admonition Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood With fury from his native residence. Now, by my seat's right royal majesty, Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, This tongue that runs so roundly in thy h... |
JOHN OF GAUNT: O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, For that I was his father Edward's son; That blood already, like the pelican, Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused: My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul, Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls! May be a precedent and witness good That thou... |
KING RICHARD II: And let them die that age and sullens have; For both hast thou, and both become the grave. |
DUKE OF YORK: I do beseech your majesty, impute his words To wayward sickliness and age in him: He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear As Harry Duke of Hereford, were he here. |
KING RICHARD II: Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his; As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. |
KING RICHARD II: What says he? |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Nay, nothing; all is said His tongue is now a stringless instrument; Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent. |
DUKE OF YORK: Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. |
KING RICHARD II: The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be. So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, Which live like venom where no venom else But only they have privilege to live. And for these great affairs do ask some charg... |
DUKE OF YORK: How long shall I be patient? ah, how long Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, Or... |
KING RICHARD II: Why, uncle, what's the matter? |
DUKE OF YORK: O my liege, Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleased Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? Did not the one deserve to ha... |
KING RICHARD II: Think what you will, we seize into our hands His plate, his goods, his money and his lands. |
DUKE OF YORK: I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; But by bad courses may be understood That their events can never fall out good. |
KING RICHARD II: Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight: Bid him repair to us to Ely House To see this business. To-morrow next We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow: And we create, in absence of ourself, Our uncle York lord governor of England; For he is just and always loved us well. Come on, our queen: to... |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. |
LORD ROSS: And living too; for now his son is duke. |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: Barely in title, not in revenue. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Richly in both, if justice had her right. |
LORD ROSS: My heart is great; but it must break with silence, Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford? If it be so, out with it boldly, man; Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. |
LORD ROSS: No good at all that I can do for him; Unless you call it good to pity him, Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne In him, a royal prince, and many moe Of noble blood in this declining land. The king is not himself, but basely led By flatterers; and what they will inform, Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, That will the king severely prosecute 'Gainst us, our live... |
LORD ROSS: The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes, And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: And daily new exactions are devised, As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, But basely yielded upon compromise That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows: More hath he spent in peace than they in wars. |
LORD ROSS: The Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him. |
LORD ROSS: He hath not money for these Irish wars, His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm; We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, And yet we strike not, but securely perish. |
LORD ROSS: We see the very wreck that we must suffer; And unavoided is the danger now, For suffering so the causes of our wreck. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death I spy life peering; but I dare not say How near the tidings of our comfort is. |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. |
LORD ROSS: Be confident to speak, Northumberland: We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay In Brittany, received intelligence That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham, That late broke from the Duke of Exeter, His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury, Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston, Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis ... |
LORD ROSS: To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. |
LORD WILLOUGHBY: Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. |
BUSHY: Madam, your majesty is too much sad: You promised, when you parted with the king, To lay aside life-harming heaviness And entertain a cheerful disposition. |
QUEEN: To please the king I did; to please myself I cannot do it; yet I know no cause Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks, Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, Is coming towards me, and my inward soul With nothing trembles... |
BUSHY: Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, Which shows like grief itself, but is not so; For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects; Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, Looking a... |
QUEEN: It may be so; but yet my inward soul Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad As, though on thinking on no thought I think, Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. |
BUSHY: 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. |
QUEEN: 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived From some forefather grief; mine is not so, For nothing had begot my something grief; Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: 'Tis in reversion that I do possess; But what it is, that is not yet known; what I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. |
GREEN: God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. |
QUEEN: Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is; For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? |
GREEN: That he, our hope, might have retired his power, And driven into despair an enemy's hope, Who strongly hath set footing in this land: The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, And with uplifted arms is safe arrived At Ravenspurgh. |
QUEEN: Now God in heaven forbid! |
GREEN: Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. |
BUSHY: Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland And all the rest revolted faction traitors? |
GREEN: We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, And all the household servants fled with him To Bolingbroke. |
QUEEN: So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy, And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. |
BUSHY: Despair not, madam. |
QUEEN: Who shall hinder me? I will despair, and be at enmity With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, A parasite, a keeper back of death, Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, Which false hope lingers in extremity. |
GREEN: Here comes the Duke of York. |
QUEEN: With signs of war about his aged neck: O, full of careful business are his looks! Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. |
DUKE OF YORK: Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief. Your husband, he is gone to save far off, Whilst others come to make him lose at home: Here am I left to underprop his land, Who, weak with age, cannot support myself... |
Servant: My lord, your son was gone before I came. |
DUKE OF YORK: He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: Hold, take my ring. |
Servant: My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, To-day, as I came by, I called there; But I shall grieve you to report the rest. |
DUKE OF YORK: What is't, knave? |
Servant: An hour before I came, the duchess died. |
DUKE OF YORK: God for his mercy! what a tide of woes Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! I know not what to do: I would to God, So my untruth had not provoked him to it, The king had cut off my head with my brother's. What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? How shall we do for money for these wars? Come... |
BUSHY: The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, But none returns. For us to levy power Proportionable to the enemy Is all unpossible. |
GREEN: Besides, our nearness to the king in love Is near the hate of those love not the king. |
BAGOT: And that's the wavering commons: for their love Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. |
BUSHY: Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. |
BAGOT: If judgement lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king. |
Subsets and Splits
No community queries yet
The top public SQL queries from the community will appear here once available.