For what I have, I need not to repeat; And what I want, it boots not to complain. 1 Lady. Madam, I'll sing. Queen. "Tis well, that thou hast cause; But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou weep. 1 Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good. Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do me good, And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the gardeners.
Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
Enter a Gardener and two Servants.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins, They'll talk of state; for every one doth so Against a change: woe is forerun with woe.
[Queen and Ladies retire. Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricots, Which, like unruly children, make their sire Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight! Give some supportance to the bending twigs,- Go thou, and, like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too fast-growing sprays, That look too lofty in our commonwealth: All must be even in our government.- You thus employed, I will go root away The noisome weeds, that without profit suck The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
1 Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a pale, Keep law, and form, and due proportion, Showing, as in a model, our firm estate? When our sea-walled garden, the whole land Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers choked up, Her fruit-trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined, Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs Swarming with caterpillars?
Gard. Hold thy peace!- He that hath suffered this disordered spring, Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf.
The weeds, that his broad-spreading leaves did shelter, That seemed in eating him to hold him up, Are plucked up, root and all, by Bolingbroke; I mean the earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. 1 Serv. What, are they dead?
They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seized the wasteful king.-O! what pity is it, That he had not so trimmed and dressed his land,
As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees; Lest, being over-proud with sap and blood, With too much riches it confound itself. Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have lived to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches We lop away, that bearing boughs may live. Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.
1 Serv. What, think you, then, the king shall be deposed? Gard. Depressed he is already; and deposed, 'Tis doubt, he will be. Letters came last night good duke of York's,
To a dear friend of the
That tell black tidings.
O, I am pressed to death,
Through want of speaking!-Thou, old Adam's likeness, [Coming from her concealment.
Set to dress this garden, how dares
Thy harsh, rude tongue sound this unpleasing news? What Eve, what serpent hath suggested thee
To make a second fall of cursed man?
Why dost thou say, king Richard is deposed? Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth, Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how, Cam'st thou by these ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch. Gard. Pardon me, madam: little joy have I, To breathe this news; yet what I say is true. King Richard he is in the mighty hold
Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weighed. In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, And some few vanities that make him light; But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, Besides himself, are all the English peers, And with that odds he weighs king Richard down. Post you to London, and you'll find it so; I speak no more than every one doth know.
Queen. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st To serve me last, that I may longest keep Thy sorrow in my breast.-Come, ladies, go, To meet, at London, London's king in woe.- What, was I born to this! that my sad look Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?—
Gardener, for telling me this news of woe,
I would the plants thou graft'st may never grow. [Exeunt Queen and Ladies. Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be no worse, I would my skill were subject to thy curse.- Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place, I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace; Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping queen.
SCENE I. London. Westminster Hall. The Lords spi ritual on the right side of the throne; the Lords temporal on the left; the Commons below.
Enter BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, SURREY, NORTHUMBER LAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord, Bishop of Carlisle, Abbot of Westminster, and Attendants. Officers behind, with BAGOT.
Boling. Call forth Bagot:
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
What thou dost know of noble Gloster's death; Who wrought it with the king, and who performed The bloody office of his timeless end.
Bagot. Then set before my face the lord Aumerle. Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know, your daring tongue Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered. In that dead time when Gloster's death was I heard you say,-Is not my arm of length, That reacheth from the restful English court As far as Calais, to my uncle's head? Amongst much other talk, that very time, I heard you say, that you had rather refuse The offer of a hundred thousand crowns, Than Bolingbroke's return to England; Adding withal, how blessed this land would be, In this your cousin's death.
Aum. Princes, and noble lords, What answer shall I make to this base man ? Shall I so much dishonor my fair stars, On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honor soiled
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. Boling. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up. Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence, that hath moved me so. Fitz. If that thy valor stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine.
By that fair sun that shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day. Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest. His honor is as true, In this appeal, as thou art all unjust;
And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage, To prove it on thee to the extremest point
Of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou dar'st.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
Lord. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
And spur thee on with full as many lies
As may be hollaed in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun. There is my honor's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Aum. Who sets me else? By Heaven, I'll throw at all:
I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Surrey. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
Fitz. 'Tis very true. You were in presence then;
And you can witness with me, this is true.
Surrey. As false, by Heaven, as Heaven itself is true Fitz. Surrey, thou liest.
That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword,
That it shall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. In proof whereof, there is my honor's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies,
And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.- As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal. Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say, That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais.
Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage, That Norfolk lies. Here do I throw down this, If he may be repealed to try his honor.
Boling. These differences shall all rest under gage, Till Norfolk be repealed; repealed he shall be, And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his land and seigniories. When he's returned, Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
Car. That honorable day shall ne'er be seen.- Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought For Jesu Christ; in glorious Christian field Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross, Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens : And, toiled 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 colors he had fought so long. Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? Car. As sure as I live, my lord.
Boling. 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.
Enter YORK, attended.
York. Great duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-plucked Richard; who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and, his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand.
« 前へ次へ » |