Authors: William Shakespeare
Exit Gaunt
KING RICHARD
We were not born to
sue
197
, 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
200
:
There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
The
swelling
202
difference of your settled hate.
Since we cannot
atone
203
you, we shall see
Justice
design
204
the victor’s chivalry.
Lord Marshal, command our officers at arms
Be ready to direct these
home alarms
206
.
Exeunt
Location:
unspecified, probably assumed to be Ely House, London
Enter Gaunt and Duchess of Gloucester
GAUNT
Alas, the
part I had in Gloucester’s blood
1
Doth more
solicit
2
me than your exclaims,
To
stir
3
against the butchers of his life.
But since correction lieth in
those hands
4
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
11
’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
15
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 cracked, and all the precious
liquor
19
spilt,
Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all
faded
20
,
By
envy’s
21
hand and murder’s bloody axe.
Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! That bed, that womb,
That
metal
23
, that self-mould that fashioned thee
Made him a man. And though thou liv’st and breath’st,
Yet art thou slain in him. Thou dost
consent
25
In some large measure to thy father’s death,
In that thou see’st thy wretched brother die,
Who was the
model
28
of thy father’s life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair.
In
suff’ring
30
thus thy brother to be slaughtered,
Thou show’st the
naked
31
pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.
That which in
mean
33
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
36
my Gloucester’s death.
GAUNT
Heaven’s is the quarrel, for heaven’s substitute,
His deputy
37
anointed in his sight
38
,
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
complaint myself
42
?
GAUNT
To heaven, the widow’s
champion
43
to defence.
DUCHESS
Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
Thou go’st to Coventry, there to behold
Our
cousin
46
Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
O, sit my husband’s wrongs on Hereford’s spear,
That it may enter butcher Mowbray’s breast!
Or if misfortune miss the first
career
49
,
Be Mowbray’s sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming
courser
51
’s back,
And throw the rider headlong in the
lists
52
,
A
caitiff
53
recreant to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt:
thy sometimes
54
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
58
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 my
brother
62
, Edmund York.
Lo
63
, this is all. Nay, yet depart not so:
Though this be all, do not so quickly go.
I shall remember more. Bid him — O, what? —
With all good speed at
Plashy
66
visit me.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see
But empty lodgings and unfurnished walls,
Unpeopled
offices
69
, 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
Location:
the area of combat at Coventry
Enter
[
the Lord
]
Marshal and Aumerle
LORD MARSHAL
My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford armed?
AUMERLE
Yea,
at all points
2
, and longs to enter in.
LORD MARSHAL
The Duke of Norfolk,
sprightfully
3
and bold,
Stays
4
but the summons of the appellant’s trumpet.
AUMERLE
Why, then, the
champions
5
are prepared, and stay
For nothing but his majesty’s approach.
Flourish. Enter King, Gaunt, Bushy, Bagot, Green and others.
[
When they are set,
]
then Mowbray in armour and
[
a
]
Herald
KING RICHARD
Marshal,
demand
7
of yonder champion
The cause of his arrival here in arms.
Ask him his name and
orderly
9
proceed
To swear him in the justice of his cause.
LORD MARSHAL
In God’s name and the king’s, say who thou art
And why thou com’st thus knightly clad in arms,
Against what man thou com’st, and what’s thy
quarrel
13
.
Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thine oath,
As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!
MOWBRAY
My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
Who hither comes engagèd by my oath —
Which heaven
defend
18
a knight should violate! —
Both to defend my loyalty and truth
To God, my king and his
succeeding
20
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!
Tucket. Enter Hereford
[
Bullingbrook
]
and Herald
KING RICHARD
Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
Both who he is and why he cometh hither
Thus
plated
28
in habiliments of war,
And formally, according to our law,
Depose him
30
in the justice of his cause.
LORD MARSHAL
What is thy name? And
wherefore
31
com’st thou hither,
To Bullingbrook
Before King Richard in his royal lists?
Against whom com’st thou? And what’s thy quarrel?
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
BULLINGBROOK
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
Am I, who ready here do stand in arms
To prove, by heaven’s grace and my body’s valour,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
That he’s a traitor, foul and dangerous,
To God of heaven, King Richard and to me.
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
LORD MARSHAL
On pain of death, no person be so bold
Or
daring-hardy
43
as to touch the lists,
Except the marshal and such officers
Appointed to direct these
fair
45
designs.
BULLINGBROOK
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
51
friends.
LORD 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.
Comes down and embraces Bullingbrook
Cousin of Hereford,
as
55
thy cause is just,
So be thy fortune in this
royal fight
56
!
Farewell,
my blood
57
, which if today thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
BULLINGBROOK
O, let no noble eye
profane
59
a tear
For me, if I be gored 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.—
To Richard
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle,
Not sick, although I have to do with death,
But
lusty
66
, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I
regreet
67
The
daintiest
68
last, to make the end most sweet.—
O thou, the earthy author of my blood,
To Gaunt
Whose youthful spirit, in me
regenerate
70
,
Doth with a
twofold
71
rigour lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,
Add
proof
73
unto mine armour with thy prayers,
And with thy blessings steel my lance’s point,
That it may enter Mowbray’s
waxen
75
coat,
And
furbish
76
new the name of John a Gaunt,
Even in the lusty
’haviour
77
of his son.
GAUNT
Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosp’rous!
Be swift like lightning in the execution,
And let thy blows, doubly redoublèd,
Fall like
amazing
81
thunder on the casque
Of thy amazed
pernicious
82
enemy,
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.
BULLINGBROOK
Mine innocence and
Saint George
84
to thrive!
MOWBRAY
However heaven 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 uncontrolled
enfranchisement
90
More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine adversary.
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years.
As
gentle
95
and as jocund as to jest
Go I to fight. Truth hath a quiet breast.
KING RICHARD
Farewell, my lord.
Securely
97
I espy
Virtue with valour
couchèd
98
in thine eye.
Order
99
the trial, marshal, and begin.
LORD MARSHAL
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Receive thy lance. And heaven defend thy right!
Attendant gives a lance to Bullingbrook
BULLINGBROOK
Strong as a tower, in hope I cry ‘Amen’.
LORD MARSHAL
Go bear this lance to Thomas,
Duke of Norfolk.
Attendant gives a lance to Mowbray
FIRST HERALD
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself,
On pain to be found false and
recreant
106
,
To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king and
him
108
,
And dares him to set forwards to the fight.