Speeches (Lines) for Henry IV in "Richard II"
Total: 90
|
# |
Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
I,1,23 |
Many years of happy days befal
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
|
2 |
I,1,33 |
First, heaven be the record to my speech!
In the devotion of a subject's love,
Tendering the precious safety of my prince,
And free from other misbegotten hate,
Come I appellant to this princely presence.
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
My body shall make good upon this earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
Too good to be so and too bad to live,
Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move,
What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove.
|
3 |
I,1,72 |
Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,
Disclaiming here the kindred of the king,
And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.
If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop:
By that and all the rites of knighthood else,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise.
|
4 |
I,1,90 |
Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true;
That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles
In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,
The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,
Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
Besides I say and will in battle prove,
Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge
That ever was survey'd by English eye,
That all the treasons for these eighteen years
Complotted and contrived in this land
Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
Further I say and further will maintain
Upon his bad life to make all this good,
That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,
Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,
And consequently, like a traitor coward,
Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood:
Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,
Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
To me for justice and rough chastisement;
And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.
|
5 |
I,1,192 |
O, God defend my soul from such deep sin!
Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight?
Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue
Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong,
Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
The slavish motive of recanting fear,
And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.
|
6 |
I,3,330 |
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,
To God of heaven, King Richard and to me;
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
|
7 |
I,3,341 |
Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand,
And bow my knee before his majesty:
For Mowbray and myself are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
Then let us take a ceremonious leave
And loving farewell of our several friends.
|
8 |
I,3,354 |
O let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear:
As confident as is the falcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
Not sick, although I have to do with death,
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:
O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,
Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,
And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt,
Even in the lusty havior of his son.
|
9 |
I,3,379 |
Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!
|
10 |
I,3,397 |
Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
|
11 |
I,3,441 |
Your will be done: this must my comfort be,
Sun that warms you here shall shine on me;
And those his golden beams to you here lent
Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
|
12 |
I,3,488 |
I swear.
|
13 |
I,3,490 |
Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:—
By this time, had the king permitted us,
One of our souls had wander'd in the air.
Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banish'd from this land:
Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.
|
14 |
I,3,513 |
How long a time lies in one little word!
Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word: such is the breath of kings.
|
15 |
I,3,556 |
I have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue's office should be prodigal
To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
|
16 |
I,3,560 |
Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
|
17 |
I,3,562 |
To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
|
18 |
I,3,564 |
My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.
|
19 |
I,3,569 |
Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign passages, and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
But that I was a journeyman to grief?
|
20 |
I,3,595 |
O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.
|
21 |
I,3,607 |
Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,
Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.
|
22 |
II,3,1153 |
How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
|
23 |
II,3,1171 |
Of much less value is my company
Than your good words. But who comes here?
|
24 |
II,3,1199 |
I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
I count myself in nothing else so happy
As in a soul remembering my good friends;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be still thy true love's recompense:
My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
|
25 |
II,3,1214 |
Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd
Shall be your love and labour's recompense.
|
26 |
II,3,1220 |
Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
|
27 |
II,3,1226 |
My lord, my answer is—to Lancaster;
And I am come to seek that name in England;
And I must find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you say.
|
28 |
II,3,1238 |
I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle!
|
29 |
II,3,1243 |
My gracious uncle—
|
30 |
II,3,1264 |
My gracious uncle, let me know my fault:
On what condition stands it and wherein?
|
31 |
II,3,1271 |
As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
You are my father, for methinks in you
I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father,
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be King of England,
It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patents give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold,
And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And I challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
And therefore, personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.
|
32 |
II,3,1320 |
An offer, uncle, that we will accept:
But we must win your grace to go with usTo Bristol castle, which they say is held
By Bushy, Bagot and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
|
33 |
III,1,1360 |
Bring forth these men.
Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls—
Since presently your souls must part your bodies—
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here in the view of men
I will unfold some causes of your deaths.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigured clean:
You have in manner with your sinful hours
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
Broke the possession of a royal bed
And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
Near to the king in blood, and near in love
Till you did make him misinterpret me,
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
From my own windows torn my household coat,
Razed out my imprese, leaving me no sign,
Save men's opinions and my living blood,
To show the world I am a gentleman.
This and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death. See them deliver'd over
To execution and the hand of death.
|
34 |
III,1,1394 |
My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.
[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and others, with the]
prisoners]
Uncle, you say the queen is at your house;
For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver'd.
|
35 |
III,1,1403 |
Thank, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away.
To fight with Glendower and his complices:
Awhile to work, and after holiday.
|
36 |
III,3,1635 |
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.
|
37 |
III,3,1650 |
Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
|
38 |
III,3,1653 |
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?
|
39 |
III,3,1659 |
Royally!
Why, it contains no king?
|
40 |
III,3,1668 |
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.
|
41 |
III,3,1829 |
What says his majesty?
|
42 |
III,3,1834 |
Stand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.
[He kneels down]
My gracious lord,—
|
43 |
III,3,1844 |
My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
|
44 |
III,3,1846 |
So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
As my true service shall deserve your love.
|
45 |
III,3,1857 |
Yea, my good lord.
|
46 |
IV,1,1982 |
Call forth Bagot.
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
The bloody office of his timeless end.
|
47 |
IV,1,1988 |
Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
|
48 |
IV,1,2012 |
Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
|
49 |
IV,1,2069 |
These differences shall all rest under gage
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
|
50 |
IV,1,2084 |
Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
|
51 |
IV,1,2086 |
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.
|
52 |
IV,1,2097 |
In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
|
53 |
IV,1,2139 |
Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender; so we shall proceed
Without suspicion.
|
54 |
IV,1,2144 |
Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
Little are we beholding to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
[Re-enter DUKE OF YORK, with KING RICHARD II, and]
Officers bearing the regalia]
|
55 |
IV,1,2178 |
I thought you had been willing to resign.
|
56 |
IV,1,2182 |
Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
|
57 |
IV,1,2188 |
Are you contented to resign the crown?
|
58 |
IV,1,2257 |
Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
|
59 |
IV,1,2261 |
Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
|
60 |
IV,1,2284 |
The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
The shadow or your face.
|
61 |
IV,1,2298 |
Name it, fair cousin.
|
62 |
IV,1,2304 |
Yet ask.
|
63 |
IV,1,2306 |
You shall.
|
64 |
IV,1,2308 |
Whither?
|
65 |
IV,1,2310 |
Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.
|
66 |
IV,1,2314 |
On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
[Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot]
of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE]
|
67 |
V,3,2575 |
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.
|
68 |
V,3,2589 |
And what said the gallant?
|
69 |
V,3,2594 |
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?
|
70 |
V,3,2599 |
What means our cousin, that he stares and looks
So wildly?
|
71 |
V,3,2603 |
Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
[Exeunt HENRY PERCY and Lords]
What is the matter with our cousin now?
|
72 |
V,3,2609 |
Intended or committed was this fault?
If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
|
73 |
V,3,2614 |
Have thy desire.
|
74 |
V,3,2617 |
Villain, I'll make thee safe.
|
75 |
V,3,2624 |
What is the matter, uncle? speak;
Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.
|
76 |
V,3,2637 |
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.
|
77 |
V,3,2654 |
What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
|
78 |
V,3,2658 |
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.
|
79 |
V,3,2673 |
Rise up, good aunt.
|
80 |
V,3,2693 |
Good aunt, stand up.
|
81 |
V,3,2712 |
Good aunt, stand up.
|
82 |
V,3,2715 |
I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
|
83 |
V,3,2720 |
With all my heart
I pardon him.
|
84 |
V,3,2723 |
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.
|
85 |
V,6,2880 |
Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND]
Welcome, my lord. what is the news?
|
86 |
V,6,2891 |
We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
|
87 |
V,6,2898 |
Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
|
88 |
V,6,2906 |
Carlisle, this is your doom:
Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.
|
89 |
V,6,2917 |
Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this famous land.
|
90 |
V,6,2921 |
They love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word nor princely favour:
With Cain go wander through shades of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent:
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
In weeping after this untimely bier.
|