York. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs? Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. York. What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom? York. No matter then who sees it: I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me; It is a matter of small consequence, Which for some reasons I would not have seen. Duch. What should you fear? 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd into For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day. York. Bound to himself? what doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Boy, let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it. [Snatches it, and reads. Treason foul treason!-villain! traitor! slave! Duch. What is the matter, my lord? York. Ho! who is within there? [Enter a Servant.] Sad dle my horse. God for his mercy! what treachery is here! Duch. Why, what is it, my lord? York. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse: Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, I will appeach the villain. Duch. What's the matter? York. Peace, foolish woman. [Exit Servant. Duch. I will not peace :-What is the matter, son? Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. Duch. Thy life answer! Re-enter Servant with Boots. York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou art amazed:† Hence, villain; never more come in my sight. York. Give me my boots, I say. [To the Servant. Breeding time. And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age, Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, Duch. He shall be none; We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him? Fond woman! were he twenty times my son, Duch. Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, That I have been disloyal to thy bed, And that he is a bastard, not thy son: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him. York. Make way, unruly woman. Duch. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his horse; Spur, post; and get before him to the king, And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. I doubt not but to ride as fast as York: SCENE III.-Windsor. A Room in the Castle. [Exit. Begone. [Exeunt. Enter BOLINGBROKE as King; PERCY, and other LORDS. "Tis full three months, since I did see him last : Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son? If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. I would to God, my lords, he might be found: Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the prince; Percy. His answer was, he would unto the stews; And wear it as a favour; and with that He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. Boling. As dissolute as desperate; yet, through both I see some sparkles of a better hope, Which elder days may happily bring forth. But who comes here? Enter AUMERLE, hastily. Aum. Where is the king? Boling. What means Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech your majesty, To have some conference with your grace alone. Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.— What is the matter with our cousin now? Boling. Intended, or committed, was this fault? To win thy after-love, I pardon thee. Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done. Boling. Have thy desire. [Kneels. [AUMERLE locks the door. York [within]. My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand; Thou hast no cause to fear. [Drawing. York [within]. Open the door, secure, fool-hardy king: Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open. [BOLINGBROKE opens the door. Enter YORK. Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show. Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise past: I do repent me; read not my name there, My heart is not confederate with my hand. York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.- Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. Boling. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy !— O loyal father of a treacherous son! Thou sheer,* immaculate, and silver fountain, Thy overflow of good converts to bad; York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; Duch. [within]. What ho, my liege ! for God's sake let me in. Speak with me, pity me, open the door; A beggar begs that never begg'd before. Boling. Our scene is alter'd,-from a serious thing, And now changed to The Beggar and the King.‡ Enter DUCHESS. Duch. 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? Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gentle liege. [Kneels. Boling. Rise up, good aunt. Duch. Not yet, I thee beseech: For ever will I kneel 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. Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my knee. [Kneels. York. Against them both, my true joints bended be. [Kneels. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Duch. 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: Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow: * Clear. + Transgressing. An old ballad. § Do. His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ; Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have Duch. Nay, do not say-stand up; But, pardon first; and afterwards stand up. Boling. Good aunt, stand up. Duch. I do not sue to stand, Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again; Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain, Boling. With all my heart I pardon him. Duch. A God on earth thou art. Boling. 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. Duch. Come, my old son;-I pray God make thee new. SCENE IV. Enter EXTON, and a SERVANT. [Exeunt. Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake? Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? Was it not so ? * Forces. |