Enter, with drum and colours, HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, Attendants, and forces HENRY BOLINGBROKE So that by this intelligence we learn The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed With some few private friends upon this coast. NORTHUMBERLAND The news is very fair and good, my lord:
Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. DUKE OF YORK It would beseem the Lord Northumberland To say 'King Richard:' alack the heavy day When such a sacred king should hide his head. NORTHUMBERLAND Your grace mistakes; only to be brief Left I his title out. DUKE OF YORK The time hath been, Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, For taking so the head, your whole head's length. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. DUKE OF YORK Take not, good cousin, further than you should.
Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads. HENRY BOLINGBROKE I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter HENRY PERCY
Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield? HENRY PERCY The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Royally!
Why, it contains no king? HENRY PERCY Yes, my good lord, It doth contain a king; King Richard lies Within the limits of yon lime and stone:
And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn. NORTHUMBERLAND O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Noble lords, Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry Bolingbroke On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand And sends allegiance and true faith of heart To his most royal person, hither come Even at his feet to lay my arms and power, Provided that my banishment repeal'd And lands restored again be freely granted:
If not, I'll use the advantage of my power And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen:
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land, My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
Go, signify as much, while here we march Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.
Let's march without the noise of threatening drum, That from this castle's tatter'd battlements Our fair appointments may be well perused.
Methinks King Richard and myself should meet With no less terror than the elements Of fire and water, when their thundering shock At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
Parle without, and answer within. Then a flourish. Enter on the walls, KING RICHARD II, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, DUKE OF AUMERLE, SIR STEPHEN SCROOP, and EARL OF SALISBURY See, see, King Richard doth himself appear, As doth the blushing discontented sun From out the fiery portal of the east, When he perceives the envious clouds are bent To dim his glory and to stain the track Of his bright passage to the occident. DUKE OF YORK Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye, As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majesty: alack, alack, for woe, That any harm should stain so fair a show! KING RICHARD II We are amazed; and thus long have we stood To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, To NORTHUMBERLAND
Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
And if we be, how dare thy joints forget To pay their awful duty to our presence?
If we be not, show us the hand of God That hath dismissed us from our stewardship;
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre, Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
And though you think that all, as you have done, Have torn their souls by turning them from us, And we are barren and bereft of friends;
Yet know, my master, God omnipotent, Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike Your children yet unborn and unbegot, That lift your vassal hands against my head And threat the glory of my precious crown.
Tell Bolingbroke--for yond methinks he stands--That every stride he makes upon my land Is dangerous treason: he is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war;