Kitabı oku: «King Richard the Second», sayfa 4

SCENE 2. The coast of Wales. A castle in view

Drums. Flourish and colours. Enter the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, and soldiers

 
  KING RICHARD. Barkloughly Castle can they this at hand?
  AUMERLE. Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air
    After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
  KING RICHARD. Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy
    To stand upon my kingdom once again.
    Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
    Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs.
    As a long-parted mother with her child
    Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
    So weeping-smiling greet I thee, my earth,
    And do thee favours with my royal hands.
    Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
    Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
    But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
    And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way,
    Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
    Which with usurping steps do trample thee;
    Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;
    And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
    Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder,
    Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
    Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
    Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.
    This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
    Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
    Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
  CARLISLE. Fear not, my lord; that Power that made you king
    Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
    The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd
    And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
    And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,
    The proffered means of succour and redress.
  AUMERLE. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss;
    Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
    Grows strong and great in substance and in power.
  KING RICHARD. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not
    That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,
    Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,
    Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
    In murders and in outrage boldly here;
    But when from under this terrestrial ball
    He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
    And darts his light through every guilty hole,
    Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
    The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,
    Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
    So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
    Who all this while hath revell'd in the night,
    Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes,
    Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
    His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
    Not able to endure the sight of day,
    But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.
    Not all the water in the rough rude sea
    Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;
    The breath of worldly men cannot depose
    The deputy elected by the Lord.
    For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
    To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
    God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
    A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,
    Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.
 

Enter SALISBURY

 
    Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power?
  SALISBURY. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,
    Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue,
    And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
    One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
    Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth.
    O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
    And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
    To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
    O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;
    For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
    Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled.
  AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege, why looks your Grace so pale?
  KING RICHARD. But now the blood of twenty thousand men
    Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
    And, till so much blood thither come again,
    Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
    All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;
    For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
  AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.
  KING RICHARD. I had forgot myself; am I not King?
    Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.
    Is not the King's name twenty thousand names?
    Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes
    At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
    Ye favourites of a king; are we not high?
    High be our thoughts. I know my uncle York
    Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?
 

Enter SCROOP

 
  SCROOP. More health and happiness betide my liege
    Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him.
  KING RICHARD. Mine ear is open and my heart prepar'd.
    The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
    Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care,
    And what loss is it to be rid of care?
    Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
    Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
    We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so.
    Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend;
    They break their faith to God as well as us.
    Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay-
    The worst is death, and death will have his day.
  SCROOP. Glad am I that your Highness is so arm'd
    To bear the tidings of calamity.
    Like an unseasonable stormy day
    Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
    As if the world were all dissolv'd to tears,
    So high above his limits swells the rage
    Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
    With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel.
    White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps
    Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
    Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
    In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown;
    Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
    Of double-fatal yew against thy state;
    Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
    Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
    And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
  KING RICHARD. Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so in.
    Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?
    What is become of Bushy? Where is Green?
    That they have let the dangerous enemy
    Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
    If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
    I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
  SCROOP. Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.
  KING RICHARD. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
    Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
    Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!
    Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
    Would they make peace? Terrible hell make war
    Upon their spotted souls for this offence!
  SCROOP. Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
    Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.
    Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
    With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse
    Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound
    And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.
  AUMERLE. Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
  SCROOP. Ay, all of them at Bristow lost their heads.
  AUMERLE. Where is the Duke my father with his power?
  KING RICHARD. No matter where-of comfort no man speak.
    Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
    Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
    Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
    Let's choose executors and talk of wills;
    And yet not so-for what can we bequeath
    Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
    Our lands, our lives, and an, are Bolingbroke's.
    And nothing can we can our own but death
    And that small model of the barren earth
    Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
    For God's sake let us sit upon the ground
    And tell sad stories of the death of kings:
    How some have been depos'd, some slain in war,
    Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd,
    Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd,
    All murder'd-for within the hollow crown
    That rounds the mortal temples of a king
    Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
    Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp;
    Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
    To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
    Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
    As if this flesh which walls about our life
    Were brass impregnable; and, humour'd thus,
    Comes at the last, and with a little pin
    Bores through his castle wall, and farewell, king!
    Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
    With solemn reverence; throw away respect,
    Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty;
    For you have but mistook me all this while.
    I live with bread like you, feel want,
    Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
    How can you say to me I am a king?
  CARLISLE. My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
    But presently prevent the ways to wail.
    To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
    Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe,
    And so your follies fight against yourself.
    Fear and be slain-no worse can come to fight;
    And fight and die is death destroying death,
    Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
  AUMERLE. My father hath a power; inquire of him,
    And learn to make a body of a limb.
  KING RICHARD. Thou chid'st me well. Proud Bolingbroke, I come
    To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
    This ague fit of fear is over-blown;
    An easy task it is to win our own.
    Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
    Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
  SCROOP. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
    The state in inclination of the day;
    So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
    My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
    I play the torturer, by small and small
    To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
    Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke;
    And all your northern castles yielded up,
    And all your southern gentlemen in arms
    Upon his party.
  KING RICHARD. Thou hast said enough.
      [To AUMERLE] Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me
forth
    Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
    What say you now? What comfort have we now?
    By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
    That bids me be of comfort any more.
    Go to Flint Castle; there I'll pine away;
    A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
    That power I have, discharge; and let them go
    To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
    For I have none. Let no man speak again
    To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
  AUMERLE. My liege, one word.
  KING RICHARD. He does me double wrong
    That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
    Discharge my followers; let them hence away,
    From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. Exeunt
 

SCENE 3. Wales. Before Flint Castle

Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and forces

 
  BOLINGBROKE. So that by this intelligence we learn
    The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury
    Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
    With some few private friends upon this coast.
  NORTHUMBERLAND. The news is very fair and good, my lord.
    Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
  YORK. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland
    To say 'King Richard.' Alack the heavy day
    When such a sacred king should hide his head!
  NORTHUMBERLAND. Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief,
    Left I his title out.
  YORK. The time hath been,
    Would you have been so brief with him, he would
    Have been so brief with you to shorten you,
    For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
  BOLINGBROKE. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
  YORK. Take not, good cousin, further than you should,
    Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads.
  BOLINGBROKE. I know it, uncle; and oppose not myself
    Against their will. But who comes here?
 

Enter PERCY

 
    Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield?
  PIERCY. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
    Against thy entrance.
  BOLINGBROKE. Royally!
    Why, it contains no king?
  PERCY. Yes, my good lord,
    It doth contain a king; King Richard lies
    Within the limits of yon lime and stone;
    And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
    Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman
    Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
  NORTHUMBERLAND. O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
  BOLINGBROKE. [To NORTHUMBERLAND] Noble lord,
    Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
    Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley
    Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
    Henry Bolingbroke
    On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand,
    And sends allegiance and true faith of heart
    To his most royal person; hither come
    Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
    Provided that my banishment repeal'd
    And lands restor'd again be freely granted;
    If not, I'll use the advantage of my power
    And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
    Rain'd from the wounds of slaughtered Englishmen;
    The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
    It is such crimson tempest should bedrench
    The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,
    My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
    Go, signify as much, while here we march
    Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.
           [NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the Castle, with a
trumpet]
    Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
    That from this castle's tottered battlements
    Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
    Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
    With no less terror than the elements
    Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock
    At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
    Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
    The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain
    My waters-on the earth, and not on him.
    March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
 
 
      Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish.
      Enter on the walls, the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
      AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY
 
 
    See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,
    As doth the blushing discontented sun
    From out the fiery portal of the east,
    When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
    To dim his glory and to stain the track
    Of his bright passage to the occident.
  YORK. Yet he looks like a king. Behold, his eye,
    As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
    Controlling majesty. Alack, alack, for woe,
    That any harm should stain so fair a show!
  KING RICHARD. [To NORTHUMBERLAND] We are amaz'd; and thus long
      have we stood
    To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
    Because we thought ourself thy lawful King;
    And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
    To pay their awful duty to our presence?
    If we be not, show us the hand of God
    That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship;
    For well we know no hand of blood and bone
    Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
    Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
    And though you think that all, as you have done,
    Have torn their souls by turning them from us,
    And we are barren and bereft of friends,
    Yet know-my master, God omnipotent,
    Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf
    Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
    Your children yet unborn and unbegot,
    That lift your vassal hands against my head
    And threat the glory of my precious crown.
    Tell Bolingbroke, for yon methinks he stands,
    That every stride he makes upon my land
    Is dangerous treason; he is come to open
    The purple testament of bleeding war;
    But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
    Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
    Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
    Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
    To scarlet indignation, and bedew
    Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
  NORTHUMBERLAND. The King of Heaven forbid our lord the King
    Should so with civil and uncivil arms
    Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin,
    Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand;
    And by the honourable tomb he swears
    That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
    And by the royalties of both your bloods,
    Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
    And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
    And by the worth and honour of himself,
    Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
    His coming hither hath no further scope
    Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
    Enfranchisement immediate on his knees;
    Which on thy royal party granted once,
    His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
    His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
    To faithful service of your Majesty.
    This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
    And as I am a gentleman I credit him.
  KING RICHARD. Northumberland, say thus the King returns:
    His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
    And all the number of his fair demands
    Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction.
    With all the gracious utterance thou hast
    Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
    [To AUMERLE] We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
    To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
    Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
    Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
  AUMERLE. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words
    Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.
  KING RICHARD. O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine
    That laid the sentence of dread banishment
    On yon proud man should take it off again
    With words of sooth! O that I were as great
    As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
    Or that I could forget what I have been!
    Or not remember what I must be now!
    Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
    Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
  AUMERLE. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.
  KING RICHARD. What must the King do now? Must he submit?
    The King shall do it. Must he be depos'd?
    The King shall be contented. Must he lose
    The name of king? A God's name, let it go.
    I'll give my jewels for a set of beads,
    My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
    My gay apparel for an almsman's gown,
    My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood,
    My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff,
    My subjects for a pair of carved saints,
    And my large kingdom for a little grave,
    A little little grave, an obscure grave-
    Or I'll be buried in the king's high way,
    Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
    May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
    For on my heart they tread now whilst I live,
    And buried once, why not upon my head?
    Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin!
    We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
    Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn
    And make a dearth in this revolting land.
    Or shall we play the wantons with our woes
    And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
    As thus: to drop them still upon one place
    Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
    Within the earth; and, therein laid-there lies
    Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.
    Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see
    I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
    Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
    What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty
    Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
    You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.
  NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, in the base court he doth attend
    To speak with you; may it please you to come down?
  KING RICHARD. Down, down I come, like glist'ring Phaethon,
    Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
    In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
    To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace.
    In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!
    For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.
 

Exeunt from above

 
  BOLINGBROKE. What says his Majesty?
  NORTHUMBERLAND. Sorrow and grief of heart
    Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man;
    Yet he is come.
 

Enter the KING, and his attendants, below

 
  BOLINGBROKE. Stand all apart,
    And show fair duty to his Majesty. [He kneels down]
    My gracious lord-
  KING RICHARD. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
    To make the base earth proud with kissing it.
    Me rather had my heart might feel your love
    Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.
    Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
    [Touching his own head] Thus high at least, although your
      knee be low.
  BOLINGBROKE. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
  KING RICHARD. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
  BOLINGBROKE. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
    As my true service shall deserve your love.
  KING RICHARD. Well you deserve. They well deserve to have
    That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
    Uncle, give me your hands; nay, dry your eyes:
    Tears show their love, but want their remedies.
    Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
    Though you are old enough to be my heir.
    What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
    For do we must what force will have us do.
    Set on towards London. Cousin, is it so?
  BOLINGBROKE. Yea, my good lord.
  KING RICHARD. Then I must not say no. Flourish. Exeunt