London. The Parliament House. |
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Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, EXETER, GLOUCESTER, WARWICK, SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the BISHOP OF WINCHESTER, RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and Others. GLOUCESTER offers to put up a bill; WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it. |
Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines, |
With written pamphlets studiously devis'd, |
Humphrey of Gloucester? If thou canst accuse, |
Or aught intend'st to lay unto my charge, |
Do it without invention, suddenly; |
As I, with sudden and extemporal speech |
Purpose to answer what thou canst object. |
Glo. Presumptuous priest! this place commands my patience |
Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonour'd me. |
Think not, although in writing I preferr'd |
The manner of thy vile outrageous crimes, |
That therefore I have forg'd, or am not able |
Verbatim to rehearse the method of my pen: |
No, prelate; such is thy audacious wickedness, |
Thy lewd, pestiferous, and dissentious pranks, |
As very infants prattle of thy pride. |
Thou art a most pernicious usurer, |
Froward by nature, enemy to peace; |
Lascivious, wanton, more than well beseems |
A man of thy profession and degree; |
And for thy treachery, what's more manifest? |
In that thou laid'st a trap to take my life |
As well at London Bridge as at the Tower. |
Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted, |
The king, thy sov'reign, is not quite exempt |
From envious malice of thy swelling heart. |
Win. Gloucester, I do defy thee. Lords, vouchsafe |
To give me hearing what I shall reply. |
If I were covetous, ambitious, or perverse, |
As he will have me, how am I so poor? |
Or how haps it I seek not to advance |
Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling? |
And for dissension, who preferreth peace |
More than I do, except I be provok'd? |
No, my good lords, it is not that offends; |
It is not that that hath incens'd the duke: |
It is, because no one should sway but he; |
No one but he should be about the king; |
And that engenders thunder in his breast, |
And makes him roar these accusations forth. |
But he shall know I am as good— |
Glo. As good! |
Thou bastard of my grandfather! |
Win. Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray, |
But one imperious in another's throne? |
Glo. Am I not protector, saucy priest? |
Win. And am not I a prelate of the church? |
Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, |
And useth it to patronage his theft. |
Win. Unreverent Gloucester! |
Glo. Thou art reverent, |
Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. |
Win. Rome shall remedy this. |
War. Roam thither then. |
Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. |
War. Ay, see the bishop be not overborne. |
Som. Methinks my lord should be religious, |
And know the office that belongs to such. |
War. Methinks his lordship should be humbler; |
It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. |
Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. |
War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that? |
Is not his Grace protector to the king? |
Plan. [Aside.] Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue, |
Lest it be said, 'Speak, sirrah, when you should; |
Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords?' |
Else would I have a fling at Winchester. |
K. Hen. Uncles of Gloucester and of Winchester, |
The special watchmen of our English weal, |
I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, |
To join your hearts in love and amity. |
O! what a scandal is it to our crown, |
That two such noble peers as ye should jar. |
Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell |
Civil dissension is a viperous worm, |
That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. [A noise within; 'Down with the tawny coats!' |
What tumult's this? |
War. An uproar, I dare warrant, |
Begun through malice of the bishop's men. [A noise again within; 'Stones! Stones!' |
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Enter the Mayor of London, attended. |
May. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry, |
Pity the city of London, pity us! |
The bishop and the Duke of Gloucester's men, |
Forbidden late to carry any weapon, |
Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble stones, |
And banding themselves in contrary parts |
Do pelt so fast at one another's pate, |
That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: |
Our windows are broke down in every street, |
And we for fear compell'd to shut our shops. |
|
Enter, skirmishing, the Serving-men of GLOUCESTER and WINCHESTER, with bloody pates. |
K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, |
To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace.— |
Pray, uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife. |
First Serv. Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. |
Sec. Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. |
Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, |
And set this unaccustom'd fight aside. |
Third Serv. My lord, we know your Grace to be a man |
Just and upright, and, for your royal birth, |
Inferior to none but to his majesty; |
And ere that we will suffer such a prince, |
So kind a father of the commonweal, |
To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate, |
We and our wives and children all will fight, |
And have our bodies slaught'red by thy foes. |
First Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails |
Shall pitch a field when we are dead. [Skirmish again. |
Glo. Stay, stay, I say! |
And, if you love me, as you say you do, |
Let me persuade you to forbear a while. |
K. Hen. O! how this discord doth afflict my soul! |
Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold |
My sighs and tears and will not once relent? |
Who should be pitiful if you be not? |
Or who should study to prefer a peace |
If holy churchmen take delight in broils? |
War. Yield, my Lord Protector; yield, Winchester; |
Except you mean with obstinate repulse |
To slay your sov'reign and destroy the realm. |
You see what mischief and what murder too |
Hath been enacted through your enmity: |
Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood. |
Win. He shall submit or I will never yield. |
Glo. Compassion on the king commands me stoop; |
Or I would see his heart out ere the priest |
Should ever get that privilege of me. |
War. Behold, my Lord of Winchester, the duke |
Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, |
As by his smoothed brows it doth appear: |
Why look you still so stern and tragical? |
Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. |
K. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach, |
That malice was a great and grievous sin; |
And will not you maintain the thing you teach, |
But prove a chief offender in the same? |
War. Sweet king! the bishop hath a kindly gird. |
For shame, my Lord of Winchester, relent! |
What! shall a child instruct you what to do? |
Win. Well, Duke of Gloucester, I will yield to thee; |
Love for thy love and hand for hand I give. |
Glo. [Aside.] Ay; but I fear me, with a hollow heart. |
See here, my friends and loving countrymen, |
This token serveth for a flag of truce, |
Betwixt ourselves and all our followers. |
So help me God, as I dissemble not! |
Win. [Aside.] So help me God, as I intend it not! |
K. Hen. O loving uncle, kind Duke of Gloucester, |
How joyful am I made by this contract! |
Away, my masters! trouble us no more; |
But join in friendship, as your lords have done. |
First Serv. Content: I'll to the surgeon's. |
Sec. Serv. And so will I. |
Third Serv. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. [Exeunt Mayor, Serving-men, &c. |
War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign, |
Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet |
We do exhibit to your majesty. |
Glo. Well urg'd, my Lord of Warwick: for, sweet prince, |
An if your Grace mark every circumstance, |
You have great reason to do Richard right; |
Especially for those occasions |
At Eltham-place I told your majesty. |
K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: |
Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is |
That Richard be restored to his blood. |
War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; |
So shall his father's wrongs be recompens'd. |
Win. As will the rest, so willeth Winchester. |
K. Hen. If Richard will be true, not that alone, |
But all the whole inheritance I give |
That doth belong unto the house of York, |
From whence you spring by lineal descent. |
Plan. Thy humble servant vows obedience, |
And humble service till the point of death. |
K. Hen. Stoop then and set your knee against my foot; |
And, in reguerdon of that duty done, |
I girt thee with the valiant sword of York: |
Rise, Richard, like a true Plantagenet, |
And rise created princely Duke of York. |
Plan. And so thrive Richard as thy foes may fall! |
And as my duty springs, so perish they |
That grudge one thought against your majesty! |
All. Welcome, high prince, the mighty Duke of York! |
Som. [Aside.] Perish, base prince, ignoble Duke of York! |
Glo. Now, will it best avail your majesty |
To cross the seas and to be crown'd in France. |
The presence of a king engenders love |
Amongst his subjects and his loyal friends, |
As it disanimates his enemies. |
K. Hen. When Gloucester says the word, King Henry goes; |
For friendly counsel cuts off many foes. |
Glo. Your ships already are in readiness. [Flourish. Exeunt all except EXETER. |
Exe. Ay, we may march in England or in France, |
Not seeing what is likely to ensue. |
This late dissension grown betwixt the peers |
Burns under feigned ashes of forg'd love, |
And will at last break out into a flame: |
As fester'd members rot but by degree, |
Till bones and flesh and sinews fall away, |
So will this base and envious discord breed. |
And now I fear that fatal prophecy |
Which in the time of Henry, nam'd the Fifth, |
Was in the mouth of every sucking babe; |
That Henry born at Monmouth should win all; |
And Henry born at Windsor should lose all: |
Which is so plain that Exeter doth wish |
His days may finish ere that hapless time. [Exit. |
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