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1596

KING RICHARD THE SECOND
by William Shakespeare

DRAMATIS PERSONAE
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, 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

EARL BERKELEY
BUSHY - favourites of King Richard

BAGOT - " " " "
GREEN - " " " "

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND
HENRY PERCY, surnamed HOTSPUR, his son

LORD Ross LORD WILLOUGHBY
LORD FITZWATER BISHOP OF CARLISLE

ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER LORD MARSHAL
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP SIR PIERCE OF EXTON

CAPTAIN of a band of Welshmen TWO GARDENERS
QUEEN to King Richard

DUCHESS OF YORK
DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, widow of Thomas of Woodstock,

Duke of Gloucester
LADY attending on the Queen

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Keeper, Messenger,
Groom, and other Attendants

SCENE:
England and Wales

ACT I. 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 gracioussovereign, 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 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 Duke of Gloucester's death,
Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,

And consequently, like a traitorcoward,
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 degeneratetraitor;
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 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?



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