Speeches (Lines) for Henry IV
in "Richard II"

Total: 90

---
# Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context)
Speech text

1

I,1,23

(stage directions). [Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and THOMAS MOWBRAY]

Henry IV. Many years of happy days befal
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!


2

I,1,33

King Richard II. 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?

Henry IV. 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.


3

I,1,72

Thomas 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,
Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.
Mean time let this defend my loyalty,
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.

Henry IV. 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 worse devise.


4

I,1,90

King Richard II. 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.

Henry IV. Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true;
That Mowbray hath received 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,
Sluiced 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.


5

I,1,192

King Richard II. Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin.

Henry IV. 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 out-dared 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.


6

I,3,330

Lord Marshal. What is thy name? and wherefore comest 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!

Henry IV. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,
To God of heaven, King Richard and to me;
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!


7

I,3,341

Lord Marshal. 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.

Henry IV. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign'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.


8

I,3,354

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

Henry IV. O let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear:
As confident as is the falcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
Not sick, although I have to do with death,
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:
O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a twofold 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 a Gaunt,
Even in the lusty havior of his son.


9

I,3,379

John of Gaunt. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
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.

Henry IV. Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!


10

I,3,397

Lord Marshal. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!

Henry IV. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.


11

I,3,441

King Richard II. Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
And both return back to their chairs again:
Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound
While we return these dukes what we decree.
[A long flourish]
Draw near,
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 hate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword;
And for we think the eagle-winged pride
Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-hating envy, set on you
To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;
Which so roused up with boisterous untuned 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 life,
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.

Henry IV. Your will be done: this must my comfort be,
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.


12

I,3,488

King Richard II. 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 God—
Our part therein we banish with yourselves—
To keep the oath that we administer:
You never shall, so help you truth and God!
Embrace each other's love in banishment;
Nor never look upon each other's face;
Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
This louring tempest of your home-bred hate;
Nor never by advised purpose meet
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill
'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.

Henry IV. I swear.


13

I,3,490

Thomas Mowbray. And I, to keep all this.

Henry IV. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:—
By this time, had the king permitted us,
One of our souls had wander'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 burthen of a guilty soul.


14

I,3,513

King Richard II. 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.
[To HENRY BOLINGBROKE]
Six frozen winter spent,
Return with welcome home from banishment.

Henry IV. How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word: such is the breath of kings.


15

I,3,556

John of Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?

Henry IV. I have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue's office should be prodigal
To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.


16

I,3,560

John of Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.

Henry IV. Joy absent, grief is present for that time.


17

I,3,562

John of Gaunt. What is six winters? they are quickly gone.

Henry IV. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.


18

I,3,564

John of Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure.

Henry IV. My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.


19

I,3,569

John of Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home return.

Henry IV. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign passages, and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
But that I was a journeyman to grief?


20

I,3,595

John of Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
There is no virtue like necessity.
Think not the king did banish thee,
But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour
And not the king exiled thee; or suppose
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air
And thou art flying to a fresher clime:
Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest:
Suppose the singing birds musicians,
The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd,
The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more
Than a delightful measure or a dance;
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it and sets it light.

Henry IV. O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.


21

I,3,607

John of Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way:
Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.

Henry IV. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,
Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.


22

II,3,1153

(stage directions). [Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces]

Henry IV. How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?


23

II,3,1171

Earl of Northumberland. Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire:
These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome,
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
But I bethink me what a weary way
From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found
In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess;
And hope to joy is little less in joy
Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
By sight of what I have, your noble company.

Henry IV. Of much less value is my company
Than your good words. But who comes here?


24

II,3,1199

Hotspur (Henry Percy). My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
Such as it is, being tender, raw and young:
Which elder days shall ripen and confirm
To more approved service and desert.

Henry IV. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
I count myself in nothing else so happy
As in a soul remembering my good friends;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be still thy true love's recompense:
My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.


25

II,3,1214

Earl of Northumberland. Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.

Henry IV. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd
Shall be your love and labour's recompense.


26

II,3,1220

Lord Willoughby. And far surmounts our labour to attain it.

Henry IV. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?


27

II,3,1226

Lord Berkeley. My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.

Henry IV. My lord, my answer is—to Lancaster;
And I am come to seek that name in England;
And I must find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you say.


28

II,3,1238

(stage directions). [Enter DUKE OF YORK attended]

Henry IV. I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle!


29

II,3,1243

Edmund of Langley. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
Whose duty is deceiveable and false.

Henry IV. My gracious uncle—


30

II,3,1264

Edmund of Langley. Tut, tut!
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle:
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace.'
In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But then more 'why?' why have they dared to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
And ostentation of despised arms?
Comest thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
O, then how quickly should this arm of mine.
Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee
And minister correction to thy fault!

Henry IV. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault:
On what condition stands it and wherein?


31

II,3,1271

Edmund of Langley. Even in condition of the worst degree,
In gross rebellion and detested treason:
Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come
Before the expiration of thy time,
In braving arms against thy sovereign.

Henry IV. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
You are my father, for methinks in you
I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father,
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be King of England,
It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patents give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold,
And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And I challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
And therefore, personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.


32

II,3,1320

Edmund of Langley. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms:
I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
Because my power is weak and all ill left:
But if I could, by Him that gave me life,
I would attach you all and make you stoop
Unto the sovereign mercy of the king;
But since I cannot, be it known to you
I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;
Unless you please to enter in the castle
And there repose you for this night.

Henry IV. An offer, uncle, that we will accept:
But we must win your grace to go with usTo Bristol castle, which they say is held
By Bushy, Bagot and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.


33

III,1,1360

(stage directions). [Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK,]
NORTHUMBERLAND, LORD ROSS, HENRY PERCY, LORD
WILLOUGHBY, with BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners]

Henry IV. Bring forth these men.
Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls—
Since presently your souls must part your bodies—
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here in the view of men
I will unfold some causes of your deaths.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigured clean:
You have in manner with your sinful hours
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
Broke the possession of a royal bed
And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
Near to the king in blood, and near in love
Till you did make him misinterpret me,
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
From my own windows torn my household coat,
Razed out my imprese, leaving me no sign,
Save men's opinions and my living blood,
To show the world I am a gentleman.
This and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death. See them deliver'd over
To execution and the hand of death.


34

III,1,1394

Green. My comfort is that heaven will take our souls
And plague injustice with the pains of hell.

Henry IV. My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.
[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and others, with the]
prisoners]
Uncle, you say the queen is at your house;
For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver'd.


35

III,1,1403

Edmund of Langley. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
With letters of your love to her at large.

Henry IV. Thank, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away.
To fight with Glendower and his complices:
Awhile to work, and after holiday.


36

III,3,1635

(stage directions). [Enter, with drum and colours, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,]
DUKE OF YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, Attendants, and forces]

Henry IV. So that by this intelligence we learn
The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed
With some few private friends upon this coast.


37

III,3,1650

Edmund of Langley. 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.

Henry IV. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.


38

III,3,1653

Edmund of Langley. Take not, good cousin, further than you should.
Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads.

Henry IV. I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself
Against their will. But who comes here?
[Enter HENRY PERCY]
Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield?


39

III,3,1659

Hotspur (Henry Percy). The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against thy entrance.

Henry IV. Royally!
Why, it contains no king?


40

III,3,1668

Earl of Northumberland. O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.

Henry IV. Noble lords,
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 restored 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 slaughter'd 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.
Let's march without the noise of threatening drum,
That from this castle's tatter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perused.
Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thundering 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, KING RICHARD II, the BISHOP OF
CARLISLE, DUKE OF AUMERLE, SIR STEPHEN SCROOP, and EARL OF 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.


41

III,3,1829

(stage directions). [Exeunt from above]

Henry IV. What says his majesty?


42

III,3,1834

(stage directions). [Enter KING RICHARD and his attendants below]

Henry IV. Stand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.
[He kneels down]
My gracious lord,—


43

III,3,1844

King Richard II. 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 unpleased eye see your courtesy.
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Thus high at least, although your knee be low.

Henry IV. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.


44

III,3,1846

King Richard II. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.

Henry IV. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
As my true service shall deserve your love.


45

III,3,1857

King Richard II. 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?

Henry IV. Yea, my good lord.


46

IV,1,1982

(stage directions). [Enter, as to the Parliament, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,]
DUKE OF AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, HENRY PERCY, LORD
FITZWATER, DUKE OF SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
the Abbot Of Westminster, and another Lord, Herald,
Officers, and BAGOT]

Henry IV. Call forth Bagot.
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
The bloody office of his timeless end.


47

IV,1,1988

Bagot. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.

Henry IV. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.


48

IV,1,2012

Duke of Aumerle. Princes and noble lords,
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars,
On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest,
And will maintain what thou hast said is false
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.

Henry IV. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.


49

IV,1,2069

Duke of Aumerle. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage
That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this,
If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.

Henry IV. These differences shall all rest under gage
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.


50

IV,1,2084

Bishop of Carlisle. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens:
And toil'd with works of war, retired himself
To Italy; and there at Venice gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.

Henry IV. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?


51

IV,1,2086

Bishop of Carlisle. As surely as I live, my lord.

Henry IV. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,
Your differences shall all rest under gage
Till we assign you to your days of trial.


52

IV,1,2097

Edmund of Langley. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul
Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
To the possession of thy royal hand:
Ascend his throne, descending now from him;
And long live Henry, fourth of that name!

Henry IV. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.


53

IV,1,2139

Earl of Northumberland. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.
May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.

Henry IV. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender; so we shall proceed
Without suspicion.


54

IV,1,2144

(stage directions). [Exit]

Henry IV. Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
Little are we beholding to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
[Re-enter DUKE OF YORK, with KING RICHARD II, and]
Officers bearing the regalia]


55

IV,1,2178

King Richard II. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;
Here cousin:
On this side my hand, and on that side yours.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well
That owes two buckets, filling one another,
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unseen and full of water:
That bucket down and full of tears am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.

Henry IV. I thought you had been willing to resign.


56

IV,1,2182

King Richard II. My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine:
You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.

Henry IV. Part of your cares you give me with your crown.


57

IV,1,2188

King Richard II. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
My care is loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is gain of care, by new care won:
The cares I give I have, though given away;
They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.

Henry IV. Are you contented to resign the crown?


58

IV,1,2257

King Richard II. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,
No, not that name was given me at the font,
But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!
O that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good,
An if my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.

Henry IV. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.


59

IV,1,2261

King Richard II. Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell!

Henry IV. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.


60

IV,1,2284

King Richard II. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
[Re-enter Attendant, with a glass]
Give me the glass, and therein will I read.
No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face
That, like the sun, did make beholders wink?
Was this the face that faced so many follies,
And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face;
[Dashes the glass against the ground]
For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.

Henry IV. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
The shadow or your face.


61

IV,1,2298

King Richard II. Say that again.
The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see:
'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
And these external manners of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul;
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only givest
Me cause to wail but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?

Henry IV. Name it, fair cousin.


62

IV,1,2304

King Richard II. 'Fair cousin'? I am greater than a king:
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg.

Henry IV. Yet ask.


63

IV,1,2306

King Richard II. And shall I have?

Henry IV. You shall.


64

IV,1,2308

King Richard II. Then give me leave to go.

Henry IV. Whither?


65

IV,1,2310

King Richard II. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.

Henry IV. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.


66

IV,1,2314

(stage directions). [Exeunt KING RICHARD II, some Lords, and a Guard]

Henry IV. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
[Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot]
of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE]


67

V,3,2575

(stage directions). [Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, HENRY PERCY, and other Lords]

Henry IV. Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
'Tis full three months since I did see him last;
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to God, my lords, he might be found:
Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose companions,
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;
Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew.


68

V,3,2589

Hotspur (Henry Percy). My lord, some two days since I saw the prince,
And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.

Henry IV. And what said the gallant?


69

V,3,2594

Hotspur (Henry Percy). His answer was, he would unto the stews,
And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour; and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.

Henry IV. As dissolute as desperate; yet through both
I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years
May happily bring forth. But who comes here?


70

V,3,2599

Duke of Aumerle. Where is the king?

Henry IV. What means our cousin, that he stares and looks
So wildly?


71

V,3,2603

Duke of Aumerle. God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,
To have some conference with your grace alone.

Henry IV. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
[Exeunt HENRY PERCY and Lords]
What is the matter with our cousin now?


72

V,3,2609

Duke of Aumerle. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth
Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.

Henry IV. Intended or committed was this fault?
If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee.


73

V,3,2614

Duke of Aumerle. Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
That no man enter till my tale be done.

Henry IV. Have thy desire.


74

V,3,2617

Edmund of Langley. [Within] My liege, beware; look to thyself;
Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

Henry IV. Villain, I'll make thee safe.


75

V,3,2624

(stage directions). [Enter DUKE OF YORK]

Henry IV. What is the matter, uncle? speak;
Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.


76

V,3,2637

Edmund of Langley. 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.

Henry IV. O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy!
O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain,
From when this stream through muddy passages
Hath held his current and defiled himself!
Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son.


77

V,3,2654

Duchess of York. [Within] What ho, my liege! for God's sake,
let me in.

Henry IV. What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?


78

V,3,2658

Duchess of York. A woman, and thy aunt, great king; 'tis I.
Speak with me, pity me, open the door.
A beggar begs that never begg'd before.

Henry IV. Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King.'
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in:
I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.


79

V,3,2673

(stage directions). [Kneels]

Henry IV. Rise up, good aunt.


80

V,3,2693

Duchess of York. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast:
He prays but faintly and would 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 prayer ought to have.

Henry IV. Good aunt, stand up.


81

V,3,2712

Duchess of York. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
That set'st the word itself against the word!
Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping 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 plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.

Henry IV. Good aunt, stand up.


82

V,3,2715

Duchess of York. I do not sue to stand;
Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

Henry IV. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.


83

V,3,2720

Duchess of York. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;
Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon strong.

Henry IV. With all my heart
I pardon him.


84

V,3,2723

Duchess of York. A god on earth thou art.

Henry IV. But for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot,
With all the rest of that consorted crew,
Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.
Good uncle, help to order several 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 too, adieu:
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.


85

V,6,2880

(stage directions). [Flourish. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK,]
with other Lords, and Attendants]

Henry IV. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]
Welcome, my lord. what is the news?


86

V,6,2891

Earl of Northumberland. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
The next news is, I have to London sent
The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear
At large discoursed in this paper here.

Henry IV. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.


87

V,6,2898

Lord Fitzwater. 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 dire overthrow.

Henry IV. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.


88

V,6,2906

Hotspur (Henry Percy). The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
But here is Carlisle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride.

Henry IV. Carlisle, this is your doom:
Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.


89

V,6,2917

Sir Pierce of Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.

Henry IV. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this famous land.


90

V,6,2921

Sir Pierce of Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.

Henry IV. They love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word nor princely favour:
With Cain go wander through shades of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent:
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
In weeping after this untimely bier.


Return to the "Richard II" menu

Plays + Sonnets + Poems + Concordance + Character Search + Advanced Search + About OSS