This loathsome sequestration have I had;
And even since then hath Richard been obscured,
Deprived of honour and inheritance:
But now, the arbitrator of despairs,
Just death, kind umpire of men's miseries,
With sweet enlargement doth dismiss me hence;
I would, his troubles likewise were expired,
That so he might recover what was lost.
Enter RICHARD PLANTAGENET.
1 Keep. My lord, your loving nephew now is comc. Mor. Richard Plantagenet, my friend? Is he come ? Plan. Ay, noble uncle, thus ignobly used, Your nephew, late-despised Richard, comes.
Mor. Direct mine arms, I may embrace his neck,
And in his bosom spend my latter gasp:
O, tell me, when my lips do touch his cheeks,
That I may kindly give one fainting kiss.-
And now declare, sweet stem from York's great stock,
Why didst thou say-of late thou wert despised?
Plan. First, lean thine aged back against mine arm; And, in that ease, I'll tell thee my disease.*
This day, in argument upon a case,
Some words there grew 'twixt Somerset and me:
Among which terms he used his lavish tongue,
And did upbraid me with my father's death;
Which obloquy set bars before my tongue,
Else with the like I had requited him:
Therefore, good uncle,-for my father's sake,
In honour of a true Plantagenet,
And for alliance' sake,-declare the cause
My father, earl of Cambridge, lost his head.
Mor. That cause, fair nephew, that imprison'd me, And hath detain'd me all my flow'ring youth,
Within a loathsome dungeon, there to pine,
Was cursed instrument of his decease,
Plan. Discover more at large what cause that was;
For I am ignorant, and cannot guess.
Mor. I will; if that my fading breath permit,
And death approach not ere my tale be done.
Henry the fourth, grandfather to this king,
Deposed his nephew Richard; Edward's son,
The first-begotten and the lawful heir
Of Edward king, the third of that descent:
During whose reign, the Percies of the north,
Finding his usurpation most unjust,
Endeavour'd my advancement to the throne
The reason moved these warlike lords to this.
Was-for that (young king Richard thus removed,
Leaving no heir begotten of his body)
* Uneasiness, discontent.
I was the next by birth and parentage;
For by my mother I derived am
From Lionel duke of Clarence, the third son
To king Edward the third, whereas he,
From John of Gaunt doth bring his pedigree,
Being but fourth of that heroic line.
But mark; as, in this haughty great attempt,
They laboured to plant the rightful heir,
I lost my liberty, and they their lives.
Long after this, when Henry the fifth,—
Succeeding his father Bolingbroke,—did reign,
Thy father, earl of Cambridge,-then derived
From famous Edmund Langley, duke of York,-
Marrying my sister, that thy mother was,
Again, in pity of my hard distress,
Levied an army; weening + to redeem,
And have install'd me in the diadem:
But, as the rest, so fell that noble earl,
And was beheaded. Thus the Mortimers,
In whom the title rested, were suppress'd.
Plan. Of which, my lord, your honour is the last.
Mor. True; and thou seest, that I no issue have;
And that my fainting words do warrant death:
Thou art my heir; the rest, I wish thee gather;
But yet be wary in thy studious care.
Plan. Thy grave admonishments prevail with me:
But yet, methinks, my father's execution
Was nothing less than bloody tyranny.
Mor. With silence, nephew, be thou politic;
Strong-fixed is the house of Lancaster,
And, like a mountain, not to be removed.
But now thy uncle is removing hence;
As princes do their courts when they are cloy'd
With long continuance in a settled place.
Plan. O, uncle, would some part of my young years
Might but redeem the passage of your age!
Mor. Thou dost then wrong me; as the slaughterer doth,
Which giveth many wounds, when one will kill.
Mourn not, except thou sorrow for my good;
Only, give order for my funeral;
And so farewell; and fair be all thy hopes!
And prosperous be thy life, in peace, and war!
Plan. And peace, no war, befall thy parting soul !
In prison hast thou spent a pilgrimage,
And like a hermit overpass'd thy days.-
Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast;
And what I do imagine, let that rest.-
Keepers, convey him hence; and I myself
Will see his burial better than his life.-
[Exeunt KEEPERS, bearing out MORTIMER.
Here dies the dusky torch of Mortimer,
Choked with ambition of the meaner sort:-
And, for those wrongs, those bitter injuries,
Which Somerset hath offer'd to my house,-
I doubt not, but with honour to redress:
And therefore haste I to the parliament;
Either to be restored to my blood,
Or make my ill* the advantage of my good.
SCENE I-The same. The Parliament-house.
Flourish. Enter KING HENRY, Exeter, GLOSTER, WARWICK,
SOMERSET, and SUFFOLK; the Bishop of WINCHESTER,
RICHARD PLANTAGENET, and others. GLOSTER offers to put
up a Bill; WINCHESTER snatches it, and tears it.
Win. Com'st thou with deep premeditated lines,
With written pamphlets studiously devised,
Humphrey of Gloster? 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 forged, 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 sovereign, is not quite exempt
From envious malice of thy swelling heart.
Win. Gloster, 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:
+ I.e. articles of accusation.
And for dissension, Who preferreth peace
More than I do,-except I be provoked?
No, my good lords, it is not that offends;
It is not that, that hath incensed 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-
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 the protector, saucy priest?
Win. And am I not a prelate of the church?
Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps,
And useth it to patronage his theft.
Win. Unreverent Gloster!
Glo. Thou art reverent
Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.
Win. This Rome shall remedy.
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. 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 Gloster, 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.
Q 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 knaws 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; Stones! Stones !
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 Gloster'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 Retainers of GLOSTER and WINCHESTER, with bloody pates.
K. Hen. We charge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaughtering hands, and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife.
Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth.
2 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.
1 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and, for your royal birth,
Inferior to none, but 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 slaughter'd by thy foes.
2 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails Shall pitch a field, when we are dead.
Glo. Stay, stay, I say!
And, if you love me, as you say you do,
Let me persuade you to forbear awhile.
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. My lord protector, yield;-yield Winchester;
Except you mean, with obstinate repulse,
To slay your sovereign, 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,
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