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twg_000000024600 | every graff would send a caterpillar, And so inflict our province. Yet once more Let me entreat to know at large the cause Of your kings sorrow. HELICANUS. Sit, sir, I will recount it to you: But, see, I am prevented. Re-enter from the barge, Lord with Marina and a young Lady. LYSIMACHUS. O, here is the lady that I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024601 | sent for. Welcome, fair one! Ist not a goodly presence? HELICANUS. Shes a gallant lady. LYSIMACHUS. Shes such a one, that, were I well assured Came of a gentle kind and noble stock, Id wish no better choice, and think me rarely wed. Fair one, all goodness that consists in bounty Expect even here, where is a kingly patient: If | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024602 | that thy prosperous and artificial feat Can draw him but to answer thee in aught, Thy sacred physic shall receive such pay As thy desires can wish. MARINA. Sir, I will use My utmost skill in his recovery, provided That none but I and my companion maid Be sufferd to come near him. LYSIMACHUS. Come, let us leave her, And | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024603 | the gods make her prosperous! [_Marina sings._] LYSIMACHUS. Markd he your music? MARINA. No, nor lookd on us. LYSIMACHUS. See, she will speak to him. MARINA. Hail, sir! My lord, lend ear. PERICLES. Hum, ha! MARINA. I am a maid, My lord, that neer before invited eyes, But have been gazed on like a comet: she speaks, My lord, that, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024604 | may be, hath endured a grief Might equal yours, if both were justly weighd. Though wayward Fortune did malign my state, My derivation was from ancestors Who stood equivalent with mighty kings: But time hath rooted out my parentage, And to the world and awkward casualties Bound me in servitude. [_Aside._] I will desist; But there is something glows upon | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024605 | my cheek, And whispers in mine ear Go not till he speak. PERICLES. My fortunesparentagegood parentage To equal mine!was it not thus? what say you? MARINA. I said, my lord, if you did know my parentage, You would not do me violence. PERICLES. I do think so. Pray you, turn your eyes upon me. You are like something thatwhat country-woman? | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024606 | Here of these shores? MARINA. No, nor of any shores: Yet I was mortally brought forth, and am No other than I appear. PERICLES. I am great with woe, and shall deliver weeping. My dearest wife was like this maid, and such a one My daughter might have been: my queens square brows; Her stature to an inch; as wand-like | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024607 | straight; As silver-voiced; her eyes as jewel-like And cased as richly; in pace another Juno; Who starves the ears she feeds, and makes them hungry, The more she gives them speech. Where do you live? MARINA. Where I am but a stranger: from the deck You may discern the place. PERICLES. Where were you bred? And how achieved you these | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024608 | endowments, which You make more rich to owe? MARINA. If I should tell my history, it would seem Like lies disdaind in the reporting. PERICLES. Prithee, speak: Falseness cannot come from thee; for thou lookst Modest as Justice, and thou seemst a palace For the crownd Truth to dwell in: I will believe thee, And make my senses credit thy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024609 | relation To points that seem impossible; for thou lookst Like one I loved indeed. What were thy friends? Didst thou not say, when I did push thee back Which was when I perceived theethat thou camst From good descending? MARINA. So indeed I did. PERICLES. Report thy parentage. I think thou saidst Thou hadst been tossd from wrong to injury, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024610 | And that thou thoughtst thy griefs might equal mine, If both were opend. MARINA. Some such thing, I said, and said no more but what my thoughts Did warrant me was likely. PERICLES. Tell thy story; If thine considerd prove the thousand part Of my endurance, thou art a man, and I Have sufferd like a girl: yet thou dost | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024611 | look Like Patience gazing on kings graves, and smiling Extremity out of act. What were thy friends? How lost thou them? Thy name, my most kind virgin? Recount, I do beseech thee: come, sit by me. MARINA. My name is Marina. PERICLES. O, I am mockd, And thou by some incensed god sent hither To make the world to laugh | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024612 | at me. MARINA. Patience, good sir, Or here Ill cease. PERICLES. Nay, Ill be patient. Thou little knowst how thou dost startle me, To call thyself Marina. MARINA. The name Was given me by one that had some power, My father, and a king. PERICLES. How! a kings daughter? And calld Marina? MARINA. You said you would believe me; But, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024613 | not to be a troubler of your peace, I will end here. PERICLES. But are you flesh and blood? Have you a working pulse? and are no fairy? Motion! Well; speak on. Where were you born? And wherefore calld Marina? MARINA. Calld Marina For I was born at sea. PERICLES. At sea! What mother? MARINA. My mother was the daughter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024614 | of a king; Who died the minute I was born, As my good nurse Lychorida hath oft Deliverd weeping. PERICLES. O, stop there a little! [_Aside._] This is the rarest dream that eer dull sleep Did mock sad fools withal: this cannot be: My daughter, buried. Well, where were you bred? Ill hear you more, to the bottom of your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024615 | story, And never interrupt you. MARINA. You scorn: believe me, twere best I did give oer. PERICLES. I will believe you by the syllable Of what you shall deliver. Yet, give me leave: How came you in these parts? Where were you bred? MARINA. The king my father did in Tarsus leave me; Till cruel Cleon, with his wicked wife, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024616 | Did seek to murder me: and having wood A villain to attempt it, who having drawn to dot, A crew of pirates came and rescued me; Brought me to Mytilene. But, good sir. Whither will you have me? Why do you weep? It may be, You think me an impostor: no, good faith; I am the daughter to King Pericles, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024617 | If good King Pericles be. PERICLES. Ho, Helicanus! Enter Helicanus and Lysimachus. HELICANUS. Calls my lord? PERICLES. Thou art a grave and noble counsellor, Most wise in general: tell me, if thou canst, What this maid is, or what is like to be, That thus hath made me weep. HELICANUS. I know not, But here is the regent, sir, of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024618 | Mytilene Speaks nobly of her. LYSIMACHUS. She would never tell Her parentage; being demanded that, She would sit still and weep. PERICLES. O Helicanus, strike me, honourd sir; Give me a gash, put me to present pain; Lest this great sea of joys rushing upon me Oerbear the shores of my mortality, And drown me with their sweetness. [_To Marina_] | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024619 | O, come hither, Thou that begetst him that did thee beget; Thou that wast born at sea, buried at Tarsus, And found at sea again! O Helicanus, Down on thy knees, thank the holy gods as loud As thunder threatens us: this is Marina. What was thy mothers name? tell me but that, For truth can never be confirmd enough, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024620 | Though doubts did ever sleep. MARINA. First, sir, I pray, what is your title? PERICLES. I am Pericles of Tyre: but tell me now My drownd queens name, as in the rest you said Thou hast been godlike perfect, The heir of kingdoms and another life To Pericles thy father. MARINA. Is it no more to be your daughter than | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024621 | To say my mothers name was Thaisa? Thaisa was my mother, who did end The minute I began. PERICLES. Now, blessing on thee! rise; thou art my child. Give me fresh garments. Mine own, Helicanus; She is not dead at Tarsus, as she should have been, By savage Cleon: she shall tell thee all; When thou shalt kneel, and justify | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024622 | in knowledge She is thy very princess. Who is this? HELICANUS. Sir, tis the governor of Mytilene, Who, hearing of your melancholy state, Did come to see you. PERICLES. I embrace you. Give me my robes. I am wild in my beholding. O heavens bless my girl! But, hark, what music? Tell Helicanus, my Marina, tell him Oer, point by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024623 | point, for yet he seems to doubt, How sure you are my daughter. But, what music? HELICANUS. My lord, I hear none. PERICLES. None! The music of the spheres! List, my Marina. LYSIMACHUS. It is not good to cross him; give him way. PERICLES. Rarest sounds! Do ye not hear? LYSIMACHUS. Music, my lord? I hear. [_Music._] PERICLES. Most heavenly | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024624 | music! It nips me unto listening, and thick slumber Hangs upon mine eyes: let me rest. [_Sleeps._] LYSIMACHUS. A pillow for his head: So, leave him all. Well, my companion friends, If this but answer to my just belief, Ill well remember you. [_Exeunt all but Pericles._] Diana appears to Pericles as in a vision. DIANA. My temple stands in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024625 | Ephesus: hie thee thither, And do upon mine altar sacrifice. There, when my maiden priests are met together, Before the people all, Reveal how thou at sea didst lose thy wife: To mourn thy crosses, with thy daughters, call And give them repetition to the life. Or perform my bidding, or thou livest in woe: Do it, and happy; by | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024626 | my silver bow! Awake and tell thy dream. [_Disappears._] PERICLES. Celestial Dian, goddess argentine, I will obey thee. Helicanus! Re-enter Helicanus, Lysimachus and Marina. HELICANUS. Sir? PERICLES. My purpose was for Tarsus, there to strike The inhospitable Cleon; but I am For other service first: toward Ephesus Turn our blown sails; eftsoons Ill tell thee why. [_To Lysimachus._] Shall we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024627 | refresh us, sir, upon your shore, And give you gold for such provision As our intents will need? LYSIMACHUS. Sir, with all my heart, And when you come ashore I have another suit. PERICLES. You shall prevail, were it to woo my daughter; For it seems you have been noble towards her. LYSIMACHUS. Sir, lend me your arm. PERICLES. Come, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024628 | my Marina. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. Enter Gower before the temple of Diana at Ephesus. GOWER. Now our sands are almost run; More a little, and then dumb. This, my last boon, give me, For such kindness must relieve me, That you aptly will suppose What pageantry, what feats, what shows, What minstrelsy, and pretty din, The regent made in Mytilene | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024629 | To greet the king. So he thrived, That he is promised to be wived To fair Marina; but in no wise Till he had done his sacrifice, As Dian bade: whereto being bound, The interim, pray you, all confound. In featherd briefness sails are filld, And wishes fall out as theyre willd. At Ephesus, the temple see, Our king and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024630 | all his company. That he can hither come so soon, Is by your fancys thankful doom. [_Exit._] SCENE III. The temple of Diana at Ephesus; Thaisa standing near the altar, as high priestess; a number of Virgins on each side; Cerimon and other inhabitants of Ephesus attending. Enter Pericles with his train; Lysimachus, Helicanus, Marina and a Lady. PERICLES. Hail, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024631 | Dian! to perform thy just command, I here confess myself the King of Tyre; Who, frighted from my country, did wed At Pentapolis the fair Thaisa. At sea in childbed died she, but brought forth A maid child calld Marina; whom, O goddess, Wears yet thy silver livery. She at Tarsus Was nursed with Cleon; who at fourteen years He | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024632 | sought to murder: but her better stars Brought her to Mytilene; gainst whose shore Riding, her fortunes brought the maid aboard us, Where by her own most clear remembrance, she Made known herself my daughter. THAISA. Voice and favour! You are, you areO royal Pericles! [_Faints._] PERICLES. What means the nun? She dies! help, gentlemen! CERIMON. Noble sir, If you | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024633 | have told Dianas altar true, This is your wife. PERICLES. Reverend appearer, no; I threw her overboard with these very arms. CERIMON. Upon this coast, I warrant you. PERICLES. Tis most certain. CERIMON. Look to the lady; O, shes but oer-joyd. Early in blustering morn this lady was Thrown upon this shore. I oped the coffin, Found there rich jewels; | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024634 | recoverd her, and placed her Here in Dianas temple. PERICLES. May we see them? CERIMON. Great sir, they shall be brought you to my house, Whither I invite you. Look, Thaisa is Recovered. THAISA. O, let me look! If he be none of mine, my sanctity Will to my sense bend no licentious ear, But curb it, spite of seeing. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024635 | O, my lord, Are you not Pericles? Like him you spake, Like him you are: did you not name a tempest, A birth, and death? PERICLES. The voice of dead Thaisa! THAISA. That Thaisa am I, supposed dead And drownd. PERICLES. Immortal Dian! THAISA. Now I know you better, When we with tears parted Pentapolis, The king my father gave | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024636 | you such a ring. [_Shows a ring._] PERICLES. This, this: no more, you gods! your present kindness Makes my past miseries sports: you shall do well, That on the touching of her lips I may Melt and no more be seen. O, come, be buried A second time within these arms. MARINA. My heart Leaps to be gone into my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024637 | mothers bosom. [_Kneels to Thaisa._] PERICLES. Look, who kneels here! Flesh of thy flesh, Thaisa; Thy burden at the sea, and calld Marina For she was yielded there. THAISA. Blest, and mine own! HELICANUS. Hail, madam, and my queen! THAISA. I know you not. PERICLES. You have heard me say, when I did fly from Tyre, I left behind an | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024638 | ancient substitute: Can you remember what I calld the man? I have named him oft. THAISA. Twas Helicanus then. PERICLES. Still confirmation: Embrace him, dear Thaisa; this is he. Now do I long to hear how you were found: How possibly preserved; and who to thank, Besides the gods, for this great miracle. THAISA. Lord Cerimon, my lord; this man, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024639 | Through whom the gods have shown their power; that can From first to last resolve you. PERICLES. Reverend sir, The gods can have no mortal officer More like a god than you. Will you deliver How this dead queen relives? CERIMON. I will, my lord. Beseech you, first go with me to my house, Where shall be shown you all | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024640 | was found with her; How she came placed here in the temple; No needful thing omitted. PERICLES. Pure Dian, bless thee for thy vision! I Will offer night-oblations to thee. Thaisa, This prince, the fair betrothed of your daughter, Shall marry her at Pentapolis. And now this ornament Makes me look dismal will I clip to form; And what this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024641 | fourteen years no razor touchd To grace thy marriage-day, Ill beautify. THAISA. Lord Cerimon hath letters of good credit, sir, My fathers dead. PERICLES. Heavens make a star of him! Yet there, my queen, Well celebrate their nuptials, and ourselves Will in that kingdom spend our following days: Our son and daughter shall in Tyrus reign. Lord Cerimon, we do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024642 | our longing stay To hear the rest untold. Sir, leads the way. [_Exeunt._] Enter Gower. GOWER. In Antiochus and his daughter you have heard Of monstrous lust the due and just reward: In Pericles, his queen and daughter seen, Although assaild with Fortune fierce and keen, Virtue preserved from fell destructions blast, Led on by heaven, and crownd with joy | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024643 | at last. In Helicanus may you well descry A figure of truth, of faith, of loyalty: In reverend Cerimon there well appears The worth that learned charity aye wears: For wicked Cleon and his wife, when fame Had spread their cursed deed, the honourd name Of Pericles, to rage the city turn, That him and his they in his palace | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024644 | burn. The gods for murder seemed so content To punish, although not done, but meant. So on your patience evermore attending, New joy wait on you! Here our play has ending. [_Exit._] THE LIFE AND DEATH OF KING RICHARD THE SECOND Contents ACT I Scene I. London. A Room in the palace. Scene II. The same. A room in the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024645 | Duke of Lancasters palace. Scene III. Open Space, near Coventry. Lists set out, and a Throne. Heralds, &c., attending. Scene IV. London. A Room in the Kings Castle. ACT II Scene I. London. An Apartment in Ely House. Scene II. The Same. A Room in the Castle. Scene III. The Wolds in Gloucestershire. Scene IV. A camp in Wales. ACT | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024646 | III Scene I. Bristol. Bolingbrokes camp. Scene II. The coast of Wales. A castle in view. Scene III. Wales. Before Flint Castle. Scene IV. Langley. The Duke of Yorks garden. ACT IV Scene I. Westminster Hall. ACT V Scene I. London. A street leading to the Tower. Scene II. The same. A room in the Duke of Yorks palace. Scene | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024647 | III. Windsor. A room in the Castle. Scene IV. Another room in the Castle. Scene V. Pomfret. The dungeon of the Castle. Scene VI. Windsor. An Apartment in the Castle. Dramatis Person KING RICHARD THE SECOND JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster - uncle to the King EDMUND LANGLEY, Duke of York - uncle to the King HENRY, surnamed BOLINGBROKE, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024648 | Duke of Hereford, son of John of Gaunt, afterwards King Henry IV DUKE OF AUMERLE, son of the Duke of York THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk DUKE OF SURREY EARL OF SALISBURY LORD BERKELEY BUSHY - Servant to King Richard BAGOT - Servant to King Richard GREEN - Servant to King Richard EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND HARRY PERCY, surnamed Hotspur, his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024649 | son LORD ROSS LORD WILLOUGHBY LORD FITZWATER BISHOP OF CARLISLE ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER LORD MARSHAL SIR PIERCE OF EXTON SIR STEPHEN SCROOP Captain of a band of Welshmen QUEEN TO KING RICHARD DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER DUCHESS OF YORK Lady attending on the Queen Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants SCENE: Dispersedly in England and Wales. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024650 | ACT I SCENE I. London. A Room in the palace. Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles and Attendants. KING RICHARD. Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, Here to make good the boistrous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024651 | hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? GAUNT. I have, my liege. KING RICHARD. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice, Or worthily, as a good subject should, On some known ground of treachery in him? GAUNT. As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024652 | seen in him Aimed at your Highness, no inveterate malice. KING RICHARD. Then call them to our presence. Face to face And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and the accused freely speak. High-stomached are they both and full of ire, In rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray. BOLINGBROKE. Many years | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024653 | of happy days befall My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! MOWBRAY. Each day still better others happiness Until the heavens, envying earths good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown! KING RICHARD. We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us, As well appeareth by the cause you come, Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. Cousin | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024654 | of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? BOLINGBROKE. Firstheaven be the record to my speech! In the devotion of a subjects love, Tendring the precious safety of my prince, And free from other misbegotten hate, Come I appellant to this princely presence. Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, And mark my greeting | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024655 | well; for what I speak My body shall make good upon this earth, Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, Too good to be so and too bad to live, Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. Once more, the more | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024656 | to aggravate the note, With a foul traitors name stuff I thy throat, And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword may prove. MOWBRAY. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal. Tis not the trial of a womans war, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, Can arbitrate this cause | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024657 | betwixt us twain; The blood is hot that must be cooled for this. Yet can I not of such tame patience boast As to be hushed and naught at all to say. First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me From giving reins and spurs to my free speech, Which else would post until it had returned These terms | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024658 | of treason doubled down his throat. Setting aside his high bloods royalty, And let him be no kinsman to my liege, I do defy him, and I spit at him, Call him a slanderous coward and a villain; Which to maintain, I would allow him odds And meet him, were I tied to run afoot Even to the frozen ridges | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024659 | of the Alps, Or any other ground inhabitable Wherever Englishman durst set his foot. Meantime let this defend my loyalty: By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. BOLINGBROKE. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, Disclaiming here the kindred of the King, And lay aside my high bloods royalty, Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024660 | If guilty dread have left thee so much strength As to take up mine honours pawn, then stoop. By that and all the rites of knighthood else, Will I make good against thee, arm to arm, What I have spoke or thou canst worst devise. MOWBRAY. I take it up; and by that sword I swear Which gently laid my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024661 | knighthood on my shoulder, Ill answer thee in any fair degree Or chivalrous design of knightly trial. And when I mount, alive may I not light If I be traitor or unjustly fight! KING RICHARD. What doth our cousin lay to Mowbrays charge? It must be great that can inherit us So much as of a thought of ill in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024662 | him. BOLINGBROKE. Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true: That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles In name of lendings for your highness soldiers, The which he hath detained for lewd employments, Like a false traitor and injurious villain. Besides I say, and will in battle prove, Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge That ever | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024663 | was surveyed by English eye, That all the treasons for these eighteen years Complotted and contrived in this land Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. Further I say, and further will maintain Upon his bad life to make all this good, That he did plot the Duke of Gloucesters death, Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, And consequently, like | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024664 | a traitor coward, Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood, Which blood, like sacrificing Abels, cries Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth To me for justice and rough chastisement. And, by the glorious worth of my descent, This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. KING RICHARD. How high a pitch his resolution soars! | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024665 | Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this? MOWBRAY. O! let my sovereign turn away his face And bid his ears a little while be deaf, Till I have told this slander of his blood How God and good men hate so foul a liar. KING RICHARD. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. Were he my brother, nay, my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024666 | kingdoms heir, As he is but my fathers brothers son, Now, by my sceptres awe I make a vow Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood Should nothing privilege him nor partialize The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou. Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. MOWBRAY. Then, Bolingbroke, as low | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024667 | as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais Disbursed I duly to his highness soldiers; The other part reserved I by consent, For that my sovereign liege was in my debt Upon remainder of a dear account Since last I went to France to fetch his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024668 | queen. Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucesters death, I slew him not, but to my own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case. For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay an ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul; But ere I last received | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024669 | the sacrament I did confess it and exactly begged Your Graces pardon, and I hope I had it. This is my fault. As for the rest appealed, It issues from the rancour of a villain, A recreant and most degenerate traitor, Which in myself I boldly will defend, And interchangeably hurl down my gage Upon this overweening traitors foot, To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024670 | prove myself a loyal gentleman Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom. In haste whereof most heartily I pray Your highness to assign our trial day. KING RICHARD. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me. Lets purge this choler without letting blood. This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision. Forget, forgive, conclude and be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024671 | agreed; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. Good uncle, let this end where it begun; Well calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. GAUNT. To be a make-peace shall become my age. Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolks gage. KING RICHARD. And, Norfolk, throw down his. GAUNT. When, Harry, when? Obedience bids I should | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024672 | not bid again. KING RICHARD. Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. MOWBRAY. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame. The one my duty owes; but my fair name, Despite of death that lives upon my grave, To dark dishonours use thou shalt not have. I am disgraced, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024673 | impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slanders venomed spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison. KING RICHARD. Rage must be withstood. Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame. MOWBRAY. Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame, And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024674 | purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one. Take honour from me, and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024675 | that I live, and for that will I die. KING RICHARD. Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. BOLINGBROKE. O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! Shall I seem crest-fallen in my fathers sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this outdared dastard? Ere my tongue Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong Or | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024676 | sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear The slavish motive of recanting fear And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbrays face. [_Exit Gaunt._] KING RICHARD. We were not born to sue, but to command; Which since we cannot do to make you friends, Be ready, as your lives shall answer | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024677 | it, At Coventry upon Saint Lamberts day. There shall your swords and lances arbitrate The swelling difference of your settled hate. Since we cannot atone you, we shall see Justice design the victors chivalry. Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms Be ready to direct these home alarms. [_Exeunt._] SCENE II. The same. A room in the Duke of Lancasters palace. Enter | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024678 | John of Gaunt with the Duchess of Gloucester. GAUNT. Alas, the part I had in Woodstocks blood Doth more solicit me than your exclaims To stir against the butchers of his life. But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven, Who, when they see | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024679 | the hours ripe on earth, Will rain hot vengeance on offenders heads. DUCHESS. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? Edwards seven sons, whereof thyself art one, Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, Or seven fair branches springing from one root. Some of those seven are dried by natures | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024680 | course, Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, One vial full of Edwards sacred blood, One flourishing branch of his most royal root, Is cracked, and all the precious liquor spilt, Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all faded, By envys hand and murders bloody axe. Ah, Gaunt! his | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024681 | blood was thine! That bed, that womb, That metal, that self mould, that fashioned thee Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest, Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost consent In some large measure to thy fathers death In that thou seest thy wretched brother die, Who was the model of thy fathers life. Call it | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024682 | not patience, Gaunt; it is despair. In suffring thus thy brother to be slaughtered, Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee. That which in mean men we entitle patience Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. What shall I say? To safeguard thine own life, The best way is to venge my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024683 | Gloucesters death. GAUNT. Gods is the quarrel; for Gods substitute, His deputy anointed in His sight, Hath caused his death, the which if wrongfully, Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift An angry arm against His minister. DUCHESS. Where then, alas! may I complain myself? GAUNT. To God, the widows champion and defence. DUCHESS. Why then, I will. Farewell, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024684 | old Gaunt. Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight. O, sit my husbands wrongs on Herefords spear, That it may enter butcher Mowbrays breast! Or if misfortune miss the first career, Be Mowbrays sins so heavy in his bosom That they may break his foaming coursers back And throw the rider headlong in | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024685 | the lists, A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford! Farewell, old Gaunt. Thy sometimes brothers wife With her companion, Grief, must end her life. GAUNT. Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry. As much good stay with thee as go with me! DUCHESS. Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls, Not with the empty hollowness, but weight. I take | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024686 | my leave before I have begun, For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. Lo, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so! Though this be all, do not so quickly go; I shall remember more. Bid himah, what? With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024687 | York there see But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? And what hear there for welcome but my groans? Therefore commend me; let him not come there To seek out sorrow that dwells everywhere. Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die! The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [_Exeunt._] SCENE III. Open Space, near Coventry. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024688 | Lists set out, and a Throne. Heralds, &c., attending. Enter the Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aumerle. MARSHAL. My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed? AUMERLE. Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in. MARSHAL. The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, Stays but the summons of the appelants trumpet. AUMERLE. Why then, the champions are prepared and | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024689 | stay For nothing but his Majestys approach. Enter King Richard, who takes his seat on his Throne; Gaunt, Bushy, Bagot, Green and others, who take their places. A trumpet is sounded, and answered by another trumpet within. Then enter Mowbray in armour, defendant, preceded by a Herald. KING RICHARD. Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause of his arrival here | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024690 | in arms. Ask him his name, and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause. MARSHAL. In Gods name and the Kings, say who thou art, And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, Against what man thou comst, and what thy quarrel. Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath, As so defend thee heaven | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024691 | and thy valour. MOWBRAY. My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, Who hither come engaged by my oath Which God defend a knight should violate! Both to defend my loyalty and truth To God, my King, and my succeeding issue, Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me, And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024692 | prove him, in defending of myself, A traitor to my God, my king, and me; And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. [_He takes his seat._] Trumpet sounds. Enter Bolingbroke, appellant, in armour, preceded by a Herald. KING RICHARD. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms Both who he is and why he cometh hither Thus plated in habiliments of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024693 | war, And formally, according to our law, Depose him in the justice of his cause. MARSHAL. What is thy name? And wherefore comst thou hither Before King Richard in his royal lists? Against whom comest thou? and whats thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! BOLINGBROKE. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Am I, who ready | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024694 | here do stand in arms To prove by Gods grace and my bodys valour, In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, That hes a traitor foul and dangerous, To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me. And as I truly fight, defend me heaven. MARSHAL. On pain of death, no person be so bold Or daring-hardy as to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024695 | touch the lists, Except the Marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. BOLINGBROKE. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereigns hand And bow my knee before his Majesty. For Mowbray and myself are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; Then let us take a ceremonious leave And loving farewell of our several friends. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024696 | MARSHAL. The appellant in all duty greets your highness And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. KING RICHARD. [_Descends from his throne_.] We will descend and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, So be thy fortune in this royal fight. Farewell, my blood, which if today thou shed, Lament we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024697 | may, but not revenge thee dead. BOLINGBROKE. O, let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbrays spear. As confident as is the falcons flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving lord, I take my leave of you. Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; Not sick, although I have | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024698 | to do with death, But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. Lo! as at English feasts, so I regreet The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet. O thou, the earthly author of my blood, Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head, Add proof unto | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000024699 | mine armour with thy prayers, And with thy blessings steel my lances point, That it may enter Mowbrays waxen coat And furbish new the name of John o Gaunt, Even in the lusty haviour of his son. GAUNT. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous. Be swift like lightning in the execution, And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, Fall | 60 | gutenberg |
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