Richard II by William Shakespeare (read the beginning after the end novel .TXT) 📕

was this fault?
If on the first, how heinous e’er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee. Aumerle

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

Bolingbroke Have thy desire. York

Within. My liege, beware: look to thyself;
Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

Bolingbroke Villain, I’ll make thee safe. Drawing. Aumerle Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear. 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.

Enter York. Bolingbroke

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

York

Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
The treason that my haste forbids me show.

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.

York

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.

Bolingbroke

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.

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,
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 Within. What ho, my liege! for God’s sake, let me in. Bolingbroke What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry? Duchess

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.

Bolingbroke

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.

York

If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
This fester’d joint cut off, the rest rest sound;
This let alone will all the rest confound.

Enter Duchess. Duchess

O king, believe not this hard-hearted man!
Love loving not itself none other can.

York

Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?

Duchess Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege. Kneels. Bolingbroke Rise up, good aunt. Duchess

Not yet, I thee beseech:
For ever will I walk upon my knees,
And never see day that the happy sees,
Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.

Aumerle Unto my mother’s prayers I bend my knee. York

Against them both my true joints bended be.
Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!

Duchess

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.

Bolingbroke Good aunt, stand up. Duchess

Nay, do not say, “stand up;”
Say, “pardon” first, and afterwards “stand up.”
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;
No word like “pardon” for kings’ mouths so meet.

York Speak it in French, king; say, “pardonne moi.” Duchess

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.

Bolingbroke Good aunt, stand up. Duchess

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

Bolingbroke I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. Duchess

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.

Bolingbroke

With all my heart
I pardon him.

Duchess A god on earth thou art. 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.
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.

Duchess Come, my old son: I pray God make thee new. Exeunt. Scene IV

The same.

Enter Exton and Servant. Exton

Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake,
“Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?”
Was it not so?

Servant These were his very words. Exton

“Have I no friend?” quoth he: he spake it twice,
And urged it twice together, did he not?

Servant He did. Exton

And speaking it, he wistly look’d on me,
And who should say, “I would thou wert the man
That would divorce this terror from my heart;”
Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let’s go:
I am the king’s friend, and will rid his foe. Exeunt.

Scene V

Pomfret castle.

Enter King Richard. King Richard

I have been studying how I may compare
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