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Translated Text |
Source: Folger Shakespeare Library |
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Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles and Attendants. KING RICHARD Old John of Gaunt, time-honored Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son, Here to make good the boist’rous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, 5 Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? GAUNT I have, my liege. KING RICHARD Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice Or worthily, as a good subject should, 10 On some known ground of treachery in him? GAUNT As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger seen in him Aimed at your Highness, no inveterate malice. KING RICHARD Then call them to our presence. 15 An Attendant exits. Face to face And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and the accusèd freely speak. High stomached are they both and full of ire, In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. 20 Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray. | At Windsor Castle, Richard II just wants to chill out and enjoy the benefits of being a king who (almost) everyone thinks has been handpicked by God to rule England. But he can't relax because two seriously angry noblemen have arrived at the castle and want him to play Judge Judy. The angry noblemen are Henry Bolingbroke and Mowbray. Richard invites them in and asks what the problem is. |
BOLINGBROKE Many years of happy days befall My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege. MOWBRAY Each day still better other’s happiness Until the heavens, envying earth’s good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown. 25 KING RICHARD We thank you both. Yet one but flatters us, As well appeareth by the cause you come: Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? 30 | Bolingbroke and Mowbray are pretty formal here – they bow down to the king and proceed to do a lot of brown-nosing. Richard's not having it. He orders each one to give his side. |
BOLINGBROKE First—heaven be the record to my speech!— In the devotion of a subject’s love, Tend’ring the precious safety of my prince And free from other misbegotten hate, Come I appellant to this princely presence.— 35 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, 40 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, 45 And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, What my tongue speaks my right-drawn sword may prove. | Things heat up pretty quickly. Bolingbroke and Mowbray immediately start to hurl a lot of nasty accusations and creative insults at each other, which sound a lot like this: Bolingbroke: I'm officially accusing you of being a traitor, Mowbray! And if I could, I'd stuff my words down your throat. |
MOWBRAY Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal. ’Tis not the trial of a woman’s war, 50 The bitter clamor of two eager tongues, Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain. The blood is hot that must be cooled for this. Yet can I not of such tame patience boast As to be hushed and naught at all to say. 55 First, the fair reverence of your Highness curbs me From giving reins and spurs to my free speech, Which else would post until it had returned These terms of treason doubled down his throat. Setting aside his high blood’s royalty, 60 And let him be no kinsman to my liege, I do defy him, and I spit at him, Call him a slanderous coward and a villain, Which to maintain I would allow him odds And meet him, were I tied to run afoot 65 Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps Or any other ground inhabitable Wherever Englishman durst set his foot. Meantime let this defend my loyalty: By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. 70 | Mowbray: You talk a lot of trash, Bolingbroke. And by the way, talking trash is for girls who fight with words because they can't fight with swords, which is why I'm not going to do it. But, if I were going to talk smack, I'd say that you're a "slanderous coward and a villain." |
BOLINGBROKE, throwing down a gage 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 75 As to take up mine honor’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. MOWBRAY, picking up the gage I take it up, and by that sword I swear 80 Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, I’ll answer thee in any fair degree Or chivalrous design of knightly trial; And when I mount, alive may I not light If I be traitor or unjustly fight. 85 | Bolingbroke: Don't worry, Mowbray – I'll put my money where my mouth is. In fact, I'm going to get medieval on you with my sword. In the middle of all this trash talk, Bolingbroke throws down his "gage" (probably a glove or a hat), an official challenge to throwdown. Mowbray reaches down and picks up the gage. Challenge accepted. |
KING RICHARD What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray’s charge? It must be great that can inherit us So much as of a thought of ill in him. BOLINGBROKE Look what I speak, my life shall prove it true: That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles 90 In name of lendings for your Highness’ soldiers, The which he hath detained 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 95 That ever was surveyed by English eye, That all the treasons for these eighteen years Complotted and contrivèd in this land Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. 100 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, 105 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. 110 And, by the glorious worth of my descent, This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. | Finally we find out what all the fuss is about. Bolingbroke accuses Mowbray of stealing a bunch of money from the crown and plotting against the kingdom. Then Bolingbroke gets to the good stuff: he accuses Mowbray of killing Richard's uncle, Thomas of Woodstock, the Duke of Gloucester (who is Bolingbroke's uncle, too). |
KING RICHARD How high a pitch his resolution soars!— Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this? MOWBRAY O, let my sovereign turn away his face 115 And bid his ears a little while be deaf, Till I have told this slander of his blood How God and good men hate so foul a liar. KING RICHARD Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears. Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom’s heir, 120 As he is but my father’s brother’s son, Now by my scepter’s awe I make a vow: Such neighbor nearness to our sacred blood Should nothing privilege him nor partialize The unstooping firmness of my upright soul. 125 He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou. Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. MOWBRAY Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais 130 Disbursed I duly to his Highness’ soldiers; The other part reserved I by consent, For that my sovereign liege was in my debt Upon remainder of a dear account Since last I went to France to fetch his queen. 135 Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester’s death, I slew him not, but to my own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case.— For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, The honorable father to my foe, 140 Once did I lay an ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grievèd soul. But ere I last received the sacrament, I did confess it and exactly begged Your Grace’s pardon, and I hope I had it.— 145 This is my fault. As for the rest appealed, It issues from the rancor of a villain, A recreant and most degenerate traitor, Which in myself I boldly will defend, And interchangeably hurl down my gage 150 Upon this overweening traitor’s foot, He throws down a gage. To prove myself a loyal gentleman, Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom; In haste whereof most heartily I pray Your Highness to assign our trial day. 155 Bolingbroke picks up the gage. | Mowbray is pretty adamant that he's not a thief or a traitor, but he waffles when it comes to whether or not he's responsible for Gloucester's death. (Don't worry – we find out more in the next scene.) Mowbray doesn't want to look like a wimp, so he throws down his gage. Naturally, Bolingbroke picks it up. |
KING RICHARD Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me. Let’s purge this choler without letting blood. This we prescribe, though no physician. Deep malice makes too deep incision. Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed. 160 Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.— Good uncle, let this end where it begun; We’ll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. GAUNT To be a make-peace shall become my age.— Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk’s gage. 165 KING RICHARD And, Norfolk, throw down his. GAUNT When, Harry, when? Obedience bids I should not bid again. KING RICHARD Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. MOWBRAY Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. 170 Mowbray kneels. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame. The one my duty owes, but my fair name, Despite of death that lives upon my grave, To dark dishonor’s use thou shalt not have. I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, 175 Pierced to the soul with slander’s venomed spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison. KING RICHARD Rage must be withstood. Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame. 180 MOWBRAY, standing Yea, but not change his spots. Take but my shame And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation; that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. 185 A jewel in a ten-times-barred-up chest Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honor is my life; both grow in one. Take honor from me and my life is done. Then, dear my liege, mine honor let me try. 190 In that I live, and for that will I die. KING RICHARD, to Bolingbroke Cousin, throw up your gage. Do you begin. BOLINGBROKE O, God defend my soul from such deep sin! Shall I seem crestfallen in my father’s sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height 195 Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue Shall wound my honor 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, 200 Where shame doth harbor, even in Mowbray’s face. | King Richard tries to make peace, but it's no use. Bolingbroke says
he'll never agree to a truce. In fact, he'd rather tear out his own
tongue with his teeth and spit it in Mowbray's face. (Gross.) |
KING RICHARD We were not born to sue, but to command, Which, since we cannot do, to make you friends, Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, At Coventry upon Saint Lambert’s day. 205 There shall your swords and lances arbitrate The swelling difference of your settled hate. Since we cannot atone you, we shall see Justice design the victor’s chivalry.— Lord Marshal, command our officers-at-arms 210 Be ready to direct these home alarms. They exit. | Richard is exasperated by all this gage throwing and threat-making. He gets all huffy and says he doesn't have time to play Dr. Phil. They can have their fight – a trial by combat at Coventry. Brain Snack: A trial by combat is when two guys (usually knights) duke it out in a crowded tournament arena until one or the other dies or can't get up – sort of like going into a Mixed Martial Arts Octagon, except with swords and stuff. These trials were common in medieval England (the setting here) but they were pretty old-school and outdated by the time Shakespeare was writing the play. (And yes, the trial by combat is the great grandfather of the "wild west gunfight," where two cowboys take twenty paces before drawing their weapons from their holsters and blasting each other.) |