So dissolute a crew.

  PERCY My lord, some two days since I saw the prince,

  And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford.

  BULLINGBROOK And what said the gallant15?

  PERCY His answer was, he would unto the stews16,

  And from the common'st17 creature pluck a glove,

  And wear it as a favour18, and with that

  He would unhorse19 the lustiest challenger.

  BULLINGBROOK As dissolute as desp'rate20. Yet through both

  I see some sparks of better hope, which elder days

  May happily22 bring forth. But who comes here?

  Enter Aumerle

  AUMERLE Where is the king?

  BULLINGBROOK What means our cousin, that he stares24 and looks so wildly?

  AUMERLE God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,

  To have some conference with your grace alone.

  BULLINGBROOK Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.

  [Exeunt Henry Percy and Lords]

  What is the matter with our cousin now?

  AUMERLE Forever may my knees grow29 to the earth,

  My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth

  Unless a pardon31 ere I rise or speak.

  BULLINGBROOK Intended or committed was this fault?

  If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,

  To win thy after-love34 I pardon thee.

  AUMERLE Then give me leave that I may turn the key,

  That no man enter till my tale be done.

  BULLINGBROOK Have thy desire.

  Aumerle locks door

  YORK (Within) My liege, beware! Look to thyself:

  Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

  BULLINGBROOK Villain, I'll make thee safe40.

  Draws his sword

  AUMERLE Stay41 thy revengeful hand, thou hast no cause to fear.

  YORK (Within) Open the door, secure42, foolhardy king:

  Shall I for love speak treason43 to thy face?

  Open the door, or I will break it open.

  Bullingbrook unlocks door

  Enter York

  BULLINGBROOK What is the matter, uncle? Speak,

  Recover breath, tell us how near is danger,

  That we may arm us to encounter it.

  YORK Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know

  The reason that my haste49 forbids me show.

  Presents paper

  AUMERLE Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise passed50.

  I do repent me: read not my name there

  My heart is not confederate with my hand52.

  YORK It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.

  I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king.

  Fear, and not love, begets his penitence;

  Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove

  A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.

  BULLINGBROOK O, heinous, strong58 and bold conspiracy!

  O loyal father of a treacherous son!

  Thou sheer60, immaculate and silver fountain,

  From whence this stream through muddy passages

  Hath held his current62 and defiled himself!

  Thy overflow of good converts to bad,

  And thy abundant goodness shall excuse

  This deadly blot65 in thy digressing son.

  YORK So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd66,

  And he shall spend67 mine honour with his shame,

  As thriftless sons their scraping68 fathers' gold.

  Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,

  Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies.

  Thou kill'st me in his life: giving him breath,

  The traitor lives, the true72 man's put to death.

  DUCHESS OF YORK (Within) What ho, my liege! For heaven's sake, let me in.

  BULLINGBROOK What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?

  DUCHESS OF YORK (Within) A woman, and thine aunt, great king. 'Tis I.

  Speak with me, pity me, open the door:

  A beggar begs that never begged before.

  BULLINGBROOK Our scene is altered from a serious thing,

  And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King'79.--

  My dangerous cousin, let your mother in.

  I know she's come to pray for your foul sin.

  YORK If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,

  More sins for83 this forgiveness prosper may.

  This festered84 joint cut off, the rest rests sound:

  This let alone85 will all the rest confound.

  Enter Duchess

  DUCHESS OF YORK O king, believe not this hard-hearted man!

  Love loving not itself87 none other can.

  YORK Thou frantic88 woman, what dost thou make here?

  Shall thy old dugs89 once more a traitor rear?

  DUCHESS OF YORK Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege.

  Kneels

  BULLINGBROOK Rise up, good aunt.

  DUCHESS OF YORK Not yet, I thee beseech.

  Forever will I kneel upon my knees,

  And never see day that the happy94 sees,

  Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy,

  By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.

  AUMERLE Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee.

  Kneels

  YORK Against them both my true98 joints bended be.

  Kneels

  DUCHESS OF YORK Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face:

  His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest100:

  His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast.

  He prays but faintly and would102 be denied:

  We pray with heart and soul and all beside.

  His weary joints would gladly rise, I know:

  Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow.

  His prayers are full of false hypocrisy,

  Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.

  Our prayers do out-pray his: then let them have

  That mercy which true prayers ought to have.

  BULLINGBROOK Good aunt, stand up.

  DUCHESS OF YORK Nay, do not say, 'stand up'.

  But, 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up'.

  And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,

  'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.

  I never longed to hear a word till now:

  Say 'pardon', king, let pity teach thee how.

  The word is short, but not so short as sweet:

  No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet118.

  YORK Speak it in French, king: say, 'pardonnez-moi119'.

  DUCHESS OF YORK Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?

  Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,

  That sets the word itself against the word!--

  Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land:

  To Bullingbrook

  The chopping124 French we do not understand.

  Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there,

  Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear,

  That hearing how our plaints127 and prayers do pierce,

  Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse128.

  BULLINGBROOK Good aunt, stand up.

  DUCHESS OF YORK I do not sue130 to stand:

  Pardon is all the suit131 I have in hand.

  BULLINGBROOK I pardon him, as heaven shall pardon me.

  DUCHESS OF YORK O, happy133 vantage of a kneeling knee!

  Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again,

  Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain135,

  But makes one pardon strong.

  BULLINGBROOK I pardon him with all my heart.

  DUCHESS OF YORK A god on earth thou art.

  York, Duchess and Aumerle rise

  BULLINGBROOK But for139 our trusty brother-in-law, the abbot,

  With all the rest of that consorted140 crew,

  Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.

/>   Good uncle, help to order several142 powers

  To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are:

  They shall not live within this world, I swear,

  But I will have them, if I once know where.

  Uncle, farewell, and, cousin, adieu:

  Your mother well hath prayed, and prove147 you true.

  DUCHESS OF YORK Come, my old son. I pray heaven make thee new.

  Exeunt

  [Act 5 Scene 4]

  running scene 16 continues

  Enter Exton and Servants

  EXTON Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake --

  'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'

  Was it not so?

  SERVANT Those were his very words.

  EXTON 'Have I no friend?' quoth he: he spake it twice,

  And urged it twice together, did he not?

  SERVANT He did.

  EXTON And speaking it, he wistly8 looked on me,

  As9 who should say, 'I would thou wert the man

  That would divorce this terror from my heart',

  Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go:

  I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.

  Exeunt

  Act 5 Scene [5]

  running scene 17

  Location: Pomfret (Pontefract) Castle

  Enter Richard

  KING RICHARD I have been studying1 how to compare

  This prison where I live unto the world.

  And for because3 the world is populous

  And here is not a creature but myself,

  I cannot do it. Yet I'll hammer't out.

  My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,

  My soul the father, and these two beget7

  A generation of still-breeding8 thoughts;

  And these same thoughts people this little world,

  In humours10 like the people of this world,

  For no thought is contented. The better sort,

  As12 thoughts of things divine, are intermixed

  With scruples13 and do set the faith itself

  Against the faith: as thus, 'Come, little ones'14,

  And then again:

  'It is as hard to come as for a camel16

  To thread the postern17 of a needle's eye.'

  Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot

  Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails

  May tear a passage through the flinty ribs

  Of this hard world, my ragged21 prison walls,

  And, for22 they cannot, die in their own pride.

  Thoughts tending to content23 flatter themselves

  That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,

  Nor shall not be the last, like silly25 beggars

  Who sitting in the stocks26 refuge their shame,

  That27 many have and others must sit there;

  And in this thought they find a kind of ease,

  Bearing their own misfortune on the back

  Of such as have before endured the like.

  Thus play I in one prison31 many people,

  And none contented. Sometimes am I king;

  Then treason33 makes me wish myself a beggar,

  And so I am. Then crushing penury34

  Persuades me I was better when a king.

  Then am I kinged again, and by and by36

  Think that I am unkinged by Bullingbrook,

  And straight38 am nothing. But whate'er I am,

  Music

  Nor I nor any man that but man is39

  With nothing40 shall be pleased, till he be eased

  With being nothing41. Music do I hear?

  Ha, ha! Keep time. How sour sweet music is

  When time is broke and no proportion43 kept!

  So is it in the music of men's lives.

  And here have I the daintiness45 of ear

  To hear time broke in a disordered string46,

  But for the concord47 of my state and time

  Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.

  I waste49d time, and now doth time waste me,

  For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock50.

  My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar51

  Their watches52 on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,

  Whereto my finger, like a dial's point53,

  Is pointing still54, in cleansing them from tears.

  Now sir, the sound that tells55 what hour it is

  Are clamorous groans, that strike56 upon my heart,

  Which is the bell. So sighs and tears and groans

  Show minutes, hours and times58. But my time

  Runs posting59 on in Bullingbrook's proud joy,

  While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'th'clock60.

  This music mads61 me. Let it sound no more,

  |Music stops|

  For though it have holp madmen to their wits62,

  In me it seems it will make wise men mad.

  Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me,

  For 'tis a sign of love, and love to65 Richard

  Is a strange brooch66 in this all-hating world.

  Enter Groom

  GROOM Hail, royal prince!

  KING RICHARD Thanks, noble peer68.

  The cheapest of us69 is ten groats too dear.

  What art thou? And how com'st thou hither

  Where no man ever comes but that sad71 dog

  That brings me food to make misfortune72 live?

  GROOM I was a poor groom of thy stable, king,

  When thou wert king, who, travelling towards York,

  With much ado75, at length have gotten leave

  To look upon my sometimes76 royal master's face.

  O, how it yearned77 my heart when I beheld

  In London streets, that coronation-day,

  When Bullingbrook rode on roan79 Barbary,

  That horse that thou so often hast bestrid80,

  That horse that I so carefully have dressed!

  KING RICHARD Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle82 friend,

  How went he under him?

  GROOM So proudly as if he had disdained the ground.

  KING RICHARD So proud that Bullingbrook was on his back?

  That jade86 hath eat bread from my royal hand,

  This hand hath made him proud with clapping87 him.

  Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,

  Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck

  Of that proud man that did usurp his back?

  Forgiveness, horse. Why do I rail on91 thee,

  Since thou, created to be awed92 by man,

  Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse,

  And yet I bear a burden like an ass,

  Spurred, galled95 and tired by jauncing Bullingbrook.

  Enter Keeper, with a dish

  KEEPER Fellow96, give place. Here is no longer stay.

  KING RICHARD If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.

  To Groom

  GROOM What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.

  Exit

  KEEPER My lord, will't please you to fall to99?

  KING RICHARD Taste of it first, as thou wert wont100 to do.

  KEEPER My lord, I dare not. Sir Pierce of Exton, who

  Lately came from th'king, commands the contrary.

  KING RICHARD The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee!

  Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

  Beats him

  KEEPER Help, help, help!

  Enter Exton and Servants [armed]

  KING RICHARD How now? What means death in this rude106 assault?

  Villain, thine own hand yields thy death's instrument.--

  Takes a weapon from one man and kills him with it

  Go thou, and fill another room108 in hell.--

  Kills another man

  Exton strikes him down

  That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire

  That staggers110 thus my person. Exton, thy fierc
e hand

  Hath with the king's blood stained the king's own land.

  Mount, mount, my soul! Thy seat112 is up on high,

  Whilst my gross113 flesh sinks downward, here to die.

  Dies

  EXTON As full of valour as of royal blood.

  Both have I spilled. O, would the deed were good!

  For now the devil that told me I did well

  Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.

  This dead king to the living king I'll bear.--

  Take hence the rest, and give them burial here.

  Exeunt

  Act 5 Scene [6]

  running scene 18

  Location: the royal court

  Flourish. Enter Bullingbrook, York, with other Lords and Attendants

  BULLINGBROOK Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear

  Is that the rebels have consumed with fire

  Our town of Cicester3 in Gloucestershire,

  But whether they be ta'en4 or slain we hear not.

  Enter Northumberland

  Welcome, my lord. What is the news?

  NORTHUMBERLAND First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.

  The next7 news is, I have to London sent

  The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt and Kent.

  The manner of their taking9 may appear

  At large discoursed10 in this paper here.

  Gives a paper

  BULLINGBROOK We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains,

  And to thy worth will add right worthy12 gains.

  Enter Fitzwaters

  FITZWATERS My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London

  The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely,

  Two of the dangerous consorted traitors

  That sought at Oxford thy dire16 overthrow.

  BULLINGBROOK Thy pains, Fitzwaters, shall not be forgot.

  Right noble is thy merit, well I wot18.

  Enter Percy and Carlisle

  PERCY The grand19 conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,

  With clog20 of conscience and sour melancholy

  Hath yielded up his body to the grave,

  But here is Carlisle living, to abide22

  Thy kingly doom23 and sentence of his pride.

  BULLINGBROOK Carlisle, this is your doom:

  Choose out some secret place, some reverend room25,

  More26 than thou hast, and with it joy thy life.

  So as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife:

  For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,

  High29 sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

  Enter Exton, with [Attendants carrying] a coffin

  EXTON Great king, within this coffin I present

  Thy buried fear. Herein all breathless lies

  The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,

  Richard of Bordeaux33, by me hither brought.

  BULLINGBROOK Exton, I thank thee not, for thou hast wrought34

  A deed of slaughter with thy fatal hand

  Upon my head and all this famous land.

  EXTON From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.

  BULLINGBROOK They love not poison that do poison need,

  Nor do I thee. Though I did wish him dead,

  I hate the murd'rer, love him murdered40.

  The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,

  But neither my good word nor princely favour.

  With Cain43 go wander through the shade of night,

  And never show thy head by day nor light.

  Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe