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Gaunt. I have, my liege.

K. Rich. 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.
K. Rich. Then call them to our presence;
face to face,

And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
The accuser, and the accused, freely speak :-
[Exeunt some Attendants.
High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

Re-enter Attendants, with BOLINGBROKE and NORFOLK.

Boling. May many years of happy days be fall

My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! Nor. Each day still better other's happiness; Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown!

K. Rich. We thank you both; yet one flatters us,

but

As well appeareth by the cause you come ; Namely, to appeal each other of high trea

son.

Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?

Boling. First, (heaven be the record of speech !)

my

In the devotion of a subject's love,
Tendering 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

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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 bis 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 a-foot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Or any other ground inhabitable
Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.
Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,-
By all my hopes, most falsely doth be lie.
Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw
my gage,

Disclaiming here the kindred of a king;
And lay aside my high blood's royalty,

If guilty dread bath left thee so much strength, As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: By that, and all the rights of kighthood else, Will I make good against thee, arm to arin, What I have spoke, or thou can'st worst devise.

Nor. 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!

K. Rich. 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.
Boting. 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 laud,

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 Gloster'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.

K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution

sears!

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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 in ambush for your life,
A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul:
But, ere I last receiv'd the sacrament,

Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to ex-I did confess it; and exactly begg'd

cept:

• Charge.

Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it. 1 Prompt.

• Possess.

+ Wicked.

This is my fault:

SCENE II.-The same.-A Room in the Duke of LANCASTER's Palace.

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

Enter GAUNT, and Duchess of Gloster. Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood

Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,

Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bo-To stir against the butchers of his life.

som:

In haste whereof, most heartily I pray
Your highness to assign our trial day.

K. Rich. 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 time 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.

K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his.
Gaunt. When, Harry, when
Obedience bids, I should not bid again.

K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there
is no boot.

Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy fool;

My life thou shalt command, but not my
shame ;

The one my duty owes: but my fair name,
(Despite of death, that lives upon any grave,)
To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here;
Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd

spear;

The which no balm can cure, but his heartblood

Which breath'd this poison.

K. Rich. Rage must be withstood :
Give me his gage: Lions make leopards tame.
Nor. Yea, but not change their 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.

K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do
you begin.

Boling. O God, defend my soul from such
foul sin!

Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight?
Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
Before this out-dar'd dastard! Ere my tongue
Shall wound mine 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.
K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to
command:

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 he sees the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Duch. 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 phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair brauches 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 Glos-

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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 suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou show'st 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 Gloster's

death.

Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's
substitute,

His deputy anointed in his sight,
Hath caus'd his death: the which, if wrong-

fully,

Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minister.

Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain
myself?

Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion
and defence.

Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old
Gaunt.

Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold
Our cousin Hereford, and fell Mowbray fight:
0 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,
Which since we cannot do to make you A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!

friends,

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Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime 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!
Duch. 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.

• Relationship.

Commend me to my 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-Oh! 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 cheer 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. SCENE III.-Gosford Green, near Coventry. Lists set out, and a Throne. HERALDS, &c. attending.

Enter the Lord MARSHAL, and AUMERLE. Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd ?

Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter

in.

Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and Stays but the summons of the appellant's trum

bold,

pet.

Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and stay,

For nothing but his majesty's approach.

Boling. 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!

Mar. 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.
Boling. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sove-
reign'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.

Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your
highness,

And craves to kiss your band, and take his leave.

our arms.

K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

Boling. O let no noble eye profane a tear As confident, as is the falcon's flight For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear; Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.My loving lord, [To Lord MARSHAL.] I take my leave of you ;—

Flourish of Trumpets.-Enter King RICHARD, who takes his seat on his throne; GAUNT, Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle :and several Noblemen, who take their Not, sick, although I have to do with death; places. A Trumpet is sounded, and an-But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.-swered by another Trumpet within. Then Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet enter NORFOLK in armour preceded by a The dainties last, to make the end most sweet : O thou, the earthly author of my blood,

Herald.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder pion

[TO GAUNT.
cham- Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold 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 of Gaunt,
Even in the lusty 'baviour of his son.

The cause of his arrival here in arms:
Ask him his name; and orderly proceed
To swear him in the justice of his cause.
Mar. 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 thy quarrel;

Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath;
And so defend thee, heaven and thy valour !
Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of
Norfolk ;

Who hither come engaged by my oath,
(Which, heaven 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 himself,
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, in
armour; preceded by a Herald.

K. Rich. 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.
Mar. 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!

Her house in Essex.

Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosperons!

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.

thrive !

Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George to [He takes his seat. Nor. [Rising.] 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 uncontroll'd enfranchisement,
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 and as jocund, as to jest,

Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.

K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy Virtue with valour couched in thine eye,Order the trial, marshal, and begin.

[The KING and the lords return to their seats.

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, aud Derby,

Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! Boling. [Rising.] Strong as a tower in hope.

I cry-Amen.

Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.] to | What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, Which robs my tongue from breathing native

Thomas duke of Norfolk.

1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and
Derby,

Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,
On pain to be found false and recreant,
To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king, and him,
And dares him to set forward to the fight.

2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke
of Norfolk,

On pain to be found false and recreant,
Both to defend himself, and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal;
Courageously, and with a free desire,
Attending but the signal to begin.
Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward,
combatants. [A Charge sounded.
Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down.
K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and
their spears,

breath?

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compas-
sionate;⚫

After our sentence plaining comes too late.
Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's
light,

To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
[Retiring.

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with
thee,

Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,
(Our part therein we banish with yourselves,)
To keep the oath that we administer :
You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!)
Embrace each other's love in banishment;
Nor never look upon each other's face;
Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate,
Nor never by advised purpose meet,
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,
let the trumpets'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
Boling. I swear.

And both return back to their chairs again :—
Withdraw with us :-and

sound,

While we return these dukes what we decree.-
[A long flourish.
Draw near,
(To the Combatants.
And list, what with our council we have done.
For that our kingdom's earth should not be

soil'd

With that dear blood which it hath fostered
And for our eyes do bate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour's
swords;

[And for we think the eagle-winged pride
Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-bating envy, set you on

To wake our peace, which in our country's

cradle

Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep ;]
Which so rous'd up with boisterous untun'd
drums,

With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace,
And make us wade even in our kindred's
blood ;-

Therefore, we banish you our territories :-
You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
Boling. Your will be done: This must my
comfort be,--

That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on

me;

And those his golden beams, to you here lent,
Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.
K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier

doom,

Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
The fly-slow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exile;--
The hopeless word of-never to return
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign
liege,

And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth:
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your highness' hand.
The language I have learn'd these forty years,
My native English, now I must forego:
And now my tongue's use is to me no more,
Than an unstringed viol or a harp;
Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,
Or, being open, put into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Within my mouth you have enjail'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth and lips;
And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance
Is made my jailer to attend on me.
I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

Too far in years to be a pupil now;

Nor. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy ;--
By this time, bad the king permitted us,
One of our souls had wauder'd in the air,
Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banish'd from this land:
Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence!
But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do
know;

And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.-
Farewell, my liege :-Now no way can I stray;
Save back to England, all the world's my way.

[Exit.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine
eyes

I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect
Hath from the number of his banish'd years
Pluck'd four away ;-Six frozen winters spent,
Return [To BOLING.] with welcome home from
banishment.

Boling. How long a time lies in one little

word!

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