Original Text
SCENE III. Windsor. A room in the Castle. Enter Bolingbroke as King, Harry Percy and other Lords. KING HENRY. 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, While he, young wanton and effeminate boy, Takes on the point of honour to support So dissolute a crew.
Original Text
PERCY. My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince, And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. KING HENRY. And what said the gallant?
Original Text
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.
Original Text
KING HENRY. 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 Aumerle.
Original Text
AUMERLE. Where is the King? KING HENRY. What means our cousin that he stares and looks so wildly?
Original Text
AUMERLE. God save your Grace! I do beseech your majesty To have some conference with your Grace alone. KING HENRY. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. [_Exeunt Harry Percy and Lords._]
Original Text
What is the matter with our cousin now?
Original Text
AUMERLE. [_Kneels_.] 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.
Original Text
KING HENRY. Intended or committed was this fault? If on the first, how heinous e’er it be, To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
Original Text
AUMERLE. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done.
Original Text
KING HENRY. Have thy desire. [_Aumerle locks the door._]
Original Text
YORK. [_Within_.] My liege, beware! Look to thyself! Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. KING HENRY. [_Drawing_.] Villain, I’ll make thee safe.
Original Text
AUMERLE. Stay thy revengeful hand. Thou hast no cause to fear.
Original Text
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. [_King Henry unlocks the door; and afterwards, relocks it._] Enter York.
Original Text
KING HENRY. What is the matter, uncle? Speak! Recover breath. Tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it.
Original Text
YORK. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show.
Original Text
AUMERLE. Remember, as thou read’st, thy promise passed. I do repent me. Read not my name there; My heart is not confederate with my hand.
Original Text
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.
Original Text
KING HENRY. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy! O loyal father of a treacherous son! Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain From whence 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.
Original Text
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.
Original Text
DUCHESS. [_Within_.] What ho, my liege! For God’s sake, let me in! KING HENRY. What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
Original Text
DUCHESS. [_Within_.] A woman, and thine aunt, great king, ’tis I. Speak with me, pity me, open the door! A beggar begs that never begged before.
Original Text
KING HENRY. Our scene is altered from a serious thing, And now changed to “The Beggar and the King.” My dangerous cousin, let your mother in. I know she’s come to pray for your foul sin. Enter Duchess.
Original Text
YORK. If thou do pardon whosoever pray, More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound; This let alone will all the rest confound.
Original Text
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?
Original Text
DUCHESS. Sweet York, be patient. [_Kneels_.] Hear me, gentle liege. KING HENRY. Rise up, good aunt.
Original Text
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.
Original Text
AUMERLE. Unto my mother’s prayers I bend my knee. [_Kneels._]
Original Text
YORK. Against them both, my true joints bended be. [_Kneels._] Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace!
Original Text
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 still kneel till to the ground they grow. His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. Our prayers do outpray his; then let them have That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
Original Text
KING HENRY. Good aunt, stand up.
Original Text
DUCHESS. Nay, do not say “stand up”. Say “pardon” first, and afterwards “stand up”. An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, “Pardon” should be the first word of thy speech. I never longed 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.
Original Text
YORK. Speak it in French, King, say “pardonne moy.”
Original Text
DUCHESS. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? Ah! my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, That sets 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.
Original Text
KING HENRY. Good aunt, stand up. DUCHESS. I do not sue to stand. Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
Original Text
KING HENRY. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
Original Text
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.
Original Text
KING HENRY. With all my heart I pardon him. DUCHESS. A god on earth thou art.
Original Text
KING HENRY. 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, adieu. Your mother well hath prayed, and prove you true.
Original Text
DUCHESS. Come, my old son. I pray God make thee new. [_Exeunt._]