READ STUDY GUIDE: Act I, scene i |
|
Act I, Scene i:
London. A Room in the palace.
London. A Room in the palace.
| [Enter KING RICHARD, attended; JOHN OF GAUNT, with other NOBLES.] |
| 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 boisterous 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. |
| [Re-enter Attendants, with 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, |
| 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 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 all 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, |
| Wherever 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 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 ears: |
| 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 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 baffled 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 down your gage: do you begin. |
| BOLINGBROKE: |
| O! God defend my soul from such deep sin. |
| Shall I seem crest-fall'n 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.] |
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