King Richard II(理查二世)

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KING RICHARD THE SECOND

KING RICHARD THE

SECOND

William Shakespeare

1596

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

ACT I.

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

SCENE I. London. The palace

Enter 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 boist'rous late appeal, Which then our

leisure would not let us 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 seen in him Aim'd 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-stomach'd are they both and full of ire, In

rage, deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

Enter BOLINGBROKE and MOWBRAY

BOLINGBROKE. Many years of happy days befall My gracious

sovereign, my most loving liege! MOWBRAY. Each day still better other's

happiness Until the heavens, envying earth's 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 of Hereford, what dost thou object

Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? BOLINGBROKE. First-

heaven be the record to my speech! In the devotion of a subject's love,

Tend'ring 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 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 to aggravate the note,

With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; And wish-so please my

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

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 woman's war, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, Can

arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain; The blood is hot that must be cool'd

for this. Yet can I not of such tame patience boast As to be hush'd and

nought at an 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 return'd These terms of treason doubled down his throat.

Setting aside his high blood's 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 of the Alps, Or any other ground

inhabitable Where ever 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 blood's

royalty, Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. If guilty dread

have left thee so much strength As to take up mine honour's 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

knighthood on my shoulder I'll 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 Mowbray's charge? It must be great that can inherit us So

much as of a thought of ill in him. BOLINGBROKE. Look what I speak,

my life shall prove it true- That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand

nobles In name of lendings for your Highness' soldiers, The which he hath

detain'd 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 was survey'd 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

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

Duke of Gloucester's death, Suggest his soon-believing adversaries, And

consequently, like a traitor coward, Sluic'd out his innocent soul through

streams of blood; Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, 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! Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st 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 cars. Were he

my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, As he is but my father's brother's son,

Now by my sceptre's 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 as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.

Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais Disburs'd I duly to his

Highness' soldiers; The other part reserv'd 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 queen: Now swallow down that lie. For

Gloucester's 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 receiv'd the

sacrament I did confess it, and exactly begg'd Your Grace's pardon; and I

hope I had it. This is my fault. As for the rest appeal'd, 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 traitor's foot To prove myself a loyal gentleman

Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. In haste whereof, most

heartily I pray Your Highness to assign our trial day. KING RICHARD.

Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by me; Let's purge this choler without

letting blood- This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes

too deep incision. Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed: Our doctors

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

say this is no month to bleed. Good uncle, let this end where it begun;

We'll 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 Norfolk's

gage. KING RICHARD. And, Norfolk, throw down his. GAUNT. When,

Harry, when? Obedience bids I should 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 dishonour's use thou shalt not have. I am

disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffl'd here; Pierc'd to the soul with slander's

venom'd spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which

breath'd 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

purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away, Men

are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times barr'd-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 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 father's

sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this outdar'd

dastard? Ere my tongue Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong

Or 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 Mowbray's 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 it, At Coventry, upon

Saint Lambert's day. There shall your swords and lances arbitrate The

swelling difference of your settled hate; Since we can not atone you, we

shall see Justice design the victor's chivalry. Lord Marshal, command our

officers-at-arms Be ready to direct these home alarms. Exeunt

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

SCENE 2. London. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S

palace

Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER

GAUNT. Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's 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 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? Edward's 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 nature's course, Some of

those branches by the Destinies cut; But Thomas, my dear lord, my life,

my Gloucester, One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, One flourishing

branch of his most royal root, Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;

Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, By envy's hand and

murder's bloody axe. Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that womb,

That mettle, that self mould, that fashion'd 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 father's death In that thou seest thy

wretched brother die, Who was the model of thy father's life. Call it not

patience, Gaunt-it is despair; In suff'ring thus thy brother to be slaught'red,

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 Gloucester's death. GAUNT. God's is the

quarrel; for God's substitute, His deputy anointed in His sight, Hath caus'd

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 widow's champion and defence.

DUCHESS. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. Thou goest to

Coventry, there to behold Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight. O,

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, That it may enter butcher

Mowbray's breast! Or, if misfortune miss the first career, Be Mowbray's

sins so heavy in his bosom That they may break his foaming courser's

back And throw the rider headlong in the lists, A caitiff recreant to my

cousin Hereford! Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometimes brother's 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 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 him- ah, what?- With all good

speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there see

But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd 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 every

where. Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die; The last leave of thee takes

my weeping eye. Exeunt

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

SCENE 3. The lists at Coventry

Enter the LORD MARSHAL and the DUKE OF AUMERLE

MARSHAL. My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?

AUMERLE. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. MARSHAL. The

Duke of Norfolk, spightfully and bold, Stays but the summons of the

appelant's trumpet. AUMERLE. Why then, the champions are prepar'd,

and stay For nothing but his Majesty's approach.

The trumpets sound, and the KING enters with his nobles, GAUNT,

BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter

MOWBRAY, Duke of Nor folk, in arms, defendant, and a HERALD

KING RICHARD. Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause

of his arrival here in arms; Ask him his name; and orderly proceed To

swear him in the justice of his cause. MARSHAL. In God's name and the

King's, say who thou art, And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms;

Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel. Speak truly on thy

knighthood and thy oath; As so defend thee heaven 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 prove him, in defending of myself,

A traitor to my God, my King, and me. And as I truly fight, defend me

heaven!

The trumpets sound. Enter BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford,

appellant, in armour, and a HERALD

KING RICHARD. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Both who he

is and why he cometh hither Thus plated in habiliments of war; And

formally, according to our law, Depose him in the justice of his cause.

MARSHAL. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither Before

King Richard in his royal lists? Against whom comest thou? and what's

thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!

BOLINGBROKE. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Am I; who

ready here do stand in arms To prove, by God's grace and my body's

KING RICHARD THE SECOND

valour, In lists on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, That he is 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 touch the lists, Except the Marshal and

such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. BOLINGBROKE.

Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's 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. MARSHAL. The appellant in all duty

greets your Highness, And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.

KING RICHARD. 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 to-day thou shed, Lament we may, but not

revenge thee dead. BOLINGBROKE. O, let no noble eye profane a tear

For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear. As confident as is the falcon's

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 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 mine armour with thy prayers, And with

thy blessings steel my lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's 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 like amazing thunder on the casque Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.

Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live. BOLINGBROKE. Mine

innocence and Saint George to thrive! MOWBRAY. However God or

fortune cast my lot, There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, A

loyal, just, and upright gentleman. Never did captive with a freer heart

Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontroll'd

enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This feast of

battle with mine adversary. Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,

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KINGRICHARDTHESECOND1KINGRICHARDTHESECONDWilliamShakespeare1596KINGRICHARDTHESECOND2ACTI.KINGRICHARDTHESECOND3SCENEI.London.ThepalaceEnterRICHARD,JOHNOFGAUNT,withotherNOBLESandattendantsKINGRICHARD.OldJohnofGaunt,time-honouredLancaster,Hastthou,accordingtothyoathandband,BroughthitherHenryHereford,th...

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