Richard II: Act 5, Scene 3

    history

    A royal palace.

    Scene Summary

    Skip to text ↓

    Aumerle reaches Henry IV and throws himself at his feet, asking for a private pardon before he speaks. Henry grants it in advance. Aumerle confesses the conspiracy just as York bursts in shouting that there is a traitor in the room. York hands over the letter. Then the Duchess of York arrives and the scene tips into something almost farcical — mother and father both on their knees in front of the king, one pleading for her son's life and one calling for his death. Henry is moved by the Duchess's argument and pardons Aumerle, but he makes clear that the other conspirators — Aumerle's brother-in-law the Abbot of Westminster among them — will be executed.

    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,
    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.
    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?
    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
    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?
    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,
    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.
    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.
    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.
    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.
    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;
    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!
    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.
    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,
    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.
    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,
    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.
    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?
    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,
    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.
    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;
    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 BOLINGBROKE
    Good aunt, stand up.
    DUCHESS OF YORK
    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.
    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!
    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 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.
    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
    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.
    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 OF YORK
    Come, my old son: I pray God make thee new.
    Exeunt