| ACT V SCENE III | A royal palace. | |
| [Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, HENRY PERCY, and other Lords] |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | 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, | 5 |
| 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, | 10 |
| Takes on the point of honour to support |
| So dissolute a crew. |
| HENRY PERCY | My lord, some two days since I saw the prince, |
| And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | And what said the gallant? | 15 |
| 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 BOLINGBROKE | As dissolute as desperate; yet through both | 20 |
| I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years |
| May happily bring forth. But who comes here? |
| [Enter DUKE OF AUMERLE] |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | Where is the king? |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | What means our cousin, that he stares and looks |
| So wildly? | 25 |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty, |
| To have some conference with your grace alone. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. |
[Exeunt HENRY PERCY and Lords] |
| What is the matter with our cousin now? |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | For ever may my knees grow to the earth, | 30 |
| My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth |
| Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Intended or committed was this fault? |
| If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, |
| To win thy after-love I pardon thee. | 35 |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | Then give me leave that I may turn the key, |
| That no man enter till my tale be done. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Have thy desire. |
| DUKE OF YORK | [Within] My liege, beware; look to thyself;
|
| Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. | 40 |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Villain, I'll make thee safe. |
| [Drawing] |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear. |
| DUKE OF YORK | [Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy king:
|
| Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? |
| Open the door, or I will break it open. | 45 |
| [Enter DUKE OF YORK] |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | What is the matter, uncle? speak; |
| Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, |
| That we may arm us to encounter it. |
| DUKE OF YORK | Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know |
| The treason that my haste forbids me show. | 50 |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd: |
| I do repent me; read not my name there |
| My heart is not confederate with my hand. |
| DUKE OF YORK | It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. |
| I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king; | 55 |
| 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 BOLINGBROKE | O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy! |
| O loyal father of a treacherous son! | 60 |
| 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 | 65 |
| This deadly blot in thy digressing son. |
| DUKE OF YORK | So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; |
| And he shall spend mine honour with his shame, |
| As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. |
| Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, | 70 |
| Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies: |
| Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath, |
| The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | [Within] What ho, my liege! for God's sake,
|
| let me in. | 75 |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry? |
| 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 BOLINGBROKE | Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing, | 80 |
| 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. |
| DUKE OF YORK | If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, |
| More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. | 85 |
| This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound; |
| This let alone will all the rest confound. |
| [Enter DUCHESS OF YORK] |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | O king, believe not this hard-hearted man! |
| Love loving not itself none other can. |
| DUKE OF YORK | Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? | 90 |
| Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege. |
| [Kneels] |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Rise up, good aunt. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | Not yet, I thee beseech: |
| For ever will I walk upon my knees, | 95 |
| And never see day that the happy sees, |
| Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, |
| By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. |
| DUKE OF AUMERLE | Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. |
| DUKE OF YORK | Against them both my true joints bended be. | 100 |
| Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! |
| 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; | 105 |
| 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. | 110 |
| Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have |
| That mercy which true prayer ought to have. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Good aunt, stand up. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | Nay, do not say, 'stand up;' |
| Say, 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.' | 115 |
| And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, |
| 'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech. |
| I never long'd to hear a word till now; |
| Say 'pardon,' king; let pity teach thee how: |
| The word is short, but not so short as sweet; | 120 |
| No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet. |
| DUKE OF YORK | Speak it in French, king; say, 'pardonne moi.' |
| 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! | 125 |
| 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, | 130 |
| Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | Good aunt, stand up. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | I do not sue to stand; |
| Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. | 135 |
| 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 BOLINGBROKE | With all my heart | 140 |
| I pardon him. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | A god on earth thou art. |
| HENRY BOLINGBROKE | 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. | 145 |
| 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: | 150 |
| Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. |
| DUCHESS OF YORK | Come, my old son: I pray God make thee new. |
| [Exeunt] |
