Act VScene 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 frequentWith unrestrained loose companions,Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanesAnd beat our watch and rob our passengers,While he, young wanton and effeminate boy,Takes on the point of honour to supportSo dissolute a crew.
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?
Percy
His answer was he would unto the stews,And from the common’st creature pluck a gloveAnd wear it as a favour, and with thatHe would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
King Henry
As dissolute as desperate! Yet through bothI see some sparks of better hope, which elder yearsMay happily bring forth. But who comes here?
Enter Aumerle.
Aumerle
Where is the King?
King Henry
What means our cousin that he stares and looks so wildly?
Aumerle
God save your Grace! I do beseech your majestyTo have some conference with your Grace alone.
King Henry
Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
Exeunt Harry Percy and Lords.
What is the matter with our cousin now?
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.
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.
Aumerle
Then give me leave that I may turn the key,That no man enter till my tale be done.
King Henry
Have thy desire.
Aumerle locks the door.
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.
Aumerle
Stay thy revengeful hand. Thou hast no cause to fear.
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.
King Henry
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 knowThe treason that my haste forbids me show.
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.
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 proveA serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
King Henry
O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!O loyal father of a treacherous son!Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountainFrom whence this stream through muddy passagesHath held his current and defiled himself!Thy overflow of good converts to bad,And thy abundant goodness shall excuseThis deadly blot in thy digressing son.
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
Within.
What ho, my liege! For God’s sake, let me in!
King Henry
What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
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.
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.
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.
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?
Duchess
Sweet York, be patient.
Kneels.
Hear me, gentle liege.
King Henry
Rise up, good aunt.
Duchess
Not yet, I thee beseech.For ever will I walk upon my kneesAnd never see day that the happy sees,Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joyBy pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
Aumerle
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!
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 haveThat mercy which true prayer ought to have.
King Henry
Good aunt, stand up.
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.
York
Speak it in French, King, say “pardonne moy.”
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.
King Henry
Good aunt, stand up.
Duchess
I do not sue to stand.Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
King Henry
I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
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.
King Henry
With all my heartI pardon him.
Duchess
A god on earth thou art.
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 powersTo 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.
Duchess
Come, my old son. I pray God make thee new.
Exeunt.