第 6 节
作者:尘小春      更新:2021-04-30 17:10      字数:9322
  blood。 Join with the present sickness that I have; And thy unkindness be
  like crooked age; To crop at once a too long withered flower。 Live in thy
  shame; but die not shame with thee! These words hereafter thy tormentors
  be! Convey me to my bed; then to my grave。 Love they to live that love
  and honour have。 Exit; borne out by his attendants KING RICHARD。 And
  let   them   die   that   age   and   sullens   have;   For   both   hast   thou;   and  both
  become the grave。 YORK。 I do beseech your Majesty impute his words To
  wayward sickliness and age in him。 He loves you; on my life; and holds
  you   dear As   Harry   Duke   of   Hereford;   were   he   here。   KING   RICHARD。
  Right; you say true: as Hereford's love; so his; As theirs; so mine; and all
  be as it is。
  Enter NORTHUMBERLAND
  NORTHUMBERLAND。 My liege; old Gaunt commends him to your
  Majesty。 KING RICHARD。 What says he? NORTHUMBERLAND。 Nay;
  nothing; all is said。 His tongue is now a stringless instrument; Words; life;
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  and all; old Lancaster hath spent。 YORK。 Be York the next that must be
  bankrupt      so!  Though      death   be   poor;   it  ends   a   mortal    woe。   KING
  RICHARD。 The ripest fruit first falls; and so doth he; His time is spent;
  our   pilgrimage   must   be。   So   much   for   that。   Now   for   our   Irish   wars。   We
  must     supplant   those    rough   rug…headed      kerns;  Which     live  like   venom
  where no venom else But only they have privilege to live。 And for these
  great affairs do ask some charge; Towards our assistance we do seize to us
  The   plate;   coin;   revenues;   and   moveables; Whereof our   uncle   Gaunt   did
  stand possess'd。 YORK。 How long shall I be patient? Ah; how long Shall
  tender duty make me suffer wrong? Not Gloucester's death; nor Hereford's
  banishment; Nor Gaunt's rebukes; nor England's private wrongs; Nor the
  prevention of poor Bolingbroke About his marriage; nor my own disgrace;
  Have   ever   made   me   sour   my  patient   cheek   Or   bend   one   wrinkle   on   my
  sovereign's face。 I am the last of noble Edward's sons; Of whom thy father;
  Prince   of   Wales;   was   first。   In   war   was   never   lion   rag'd   more   fierce;   In
  peace was never gentle lamb more mild; Than was that young and princely
  gentleman。 His face thou hast; for even so look'd he; Accomplish'd with
  the number of thy hours; But when he frown'd; it was against the French
  And not against his friends。 His noble hand Did win what he did spend;
  and spent not that Which his triumphant father's hand had won。 His hands
  were guilty of no kindred blood; But bloody with the enemies of his kin。 O
  Richard! York is too far gone with grief; Or else he never would compare
  between… KING RICHARD。 Why; uncle; what's the matter? YORK。 O my
  liege; Pardon me; if you please; if not; I; pleas'd Not to be pardoned; am
  content withal。 Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands The royalties
  and rights of banish'd Hereford? Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Hereford
  live? Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true? Did not the one deserve to
  have an heir? Is not his heir a well…deserving son? Take Hereford's rights
  away; and take from Time His charters and his customary rights; Let not
  to…morrow then ensue to…day; Be not thyself…for how art thou a king But
  by fair sequence and succession? Now; afore God…God forbid I say true!…
  If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights; Call in the letters patents that
  he   hath   By   his   attorneys…general   to   sue   His   livery;   and   deny   his   off'red
  homage; You pluck a thousand dangers on your head; You lose a thousand
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  KING RICHARD THE SECOND
  well…disposed       hearts;  And    prick   my   tender    patience   to  those   thoughts
  Which honour and allegiance cannot think。 KING RICHARD。 Think what
  you will; we seize into our hands His plate; his goods; his money; and his
  lands。 YORK。 I'll not be by the while。 My liege; farewell。 What will ensue
  hereof there's none can tell; But by bad courses may be understood That
  their events can never fall out good。 Exit KING RICHARD。 Go; Bushy; to
  the Earl of Wiltshire straight; Bid him repair to us to Ely House To see this
  business。 To…morrow next We will for Ireland; and 'tis time; I trow。 And
  we    create;   in  absence    of  ourself;   Our    Uncle    York   Lord    Governor     of
  England; For he is just; and always lov'd us well。 Come on; our queen; to…
  morrow   must   we   part;   Be   merry;  for   our time   of   stay  is   short。   Flourish。
  Exeunt     KING;     QUEEN;       BUSHY;      AUMERLE;          GREEN;      and   BAGOT
  NORTHUMBERLAND。 Well; lords; the Duke of Lancaster is dead。 Ross。
  And living too; for now his son is Duke。 WILLOUGHBY。 Barely in title;
  not in revenues。 NORTHUMBERLAND。 Richly in both; if justice had her
  right。   ROSS。   My   heart   is   great;   but   it   must   break   with   silence;   Ere't   be
  disburdened   with   a   liberal   tongue。   NORTHUMBERLAND。   Nay;   speak
  thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more That speaks thy words again to do
  thee harm! WILLOUGHBY。 Tends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of
  Hereford? If it be so; out with it boldly; man; Quick is mine ear to hear of
  good towards him。 ROSS。 No good at all that I can do for him; Unless you
  call    it  good     to   pity   him;    Bereft    and    gelded     of   his   patrimony。
  NORTHUMBERLAND。                  Now;    afore   God;    'tis  shame   such   wrongs     are
  borne     In  him;   a  royal   prince;   and   many   moe     Of  noble    blood   in  this
  declining land。 The King is not himself; but basely led By flatterers; and
  what they will inform; Merely in hate; 'gainst any of us an; That will the
  King severely prosecute 'Gainst us; our lives; our children; and our heirs。
  ROSS。   The   commons   hath   he   pill'd   with   grievous   taxes; And   quite   lost
  their   hearts;   the   nobles   hath   he   find   For   ancient   quarrels   and   quite   lost
  their   hearts。   WILLOUGHBY。   And   daily   new   exactions   are   devis'd;   As
  blanks; benevolences; and I wot not what; But what; a God's name; doth
  become   of   this?   NORTHUMBERLAND。   Wars   hath   not   wasted   it;   for
  warr'd he hath not; But basely yielded upon compromise That which his
  noble   ancestors   achiev'd   with   blows。   More   hath   he   spent   in   peace   than
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  they    in  wars。   ROSS。      The   Earl   of  Wiltshire    hath   the   realm   in  farm。
  WILLOUGHBY。             The     King's    grown     bankrupt     like   a   broken     man。
  NORTHUMBERLAND。                  Reproach      and   dissolution    hangeth     over   him。
  ROSS。 He hath not money for these Irish wars; His burdenous taxations
  notwithstanding;         But     by    the    robbing      of    the    banish'd     Duke。
  NORTHUMBERLAND。   His   noble   kinsman…most   degenerate   king!   But;
  lords; we hear this fearful tempest sing; Yet seek no shelter to avoid the
  storm; We see the wind sit sore upon our sails; And yet we strike not; but
  securely perish。 ROSS。 We see the very wreck that we must suffer; And
  unavoided   is   the   danger   now   For   suffering   so   the   causes   of   our   wreck。
  NORTHUMBERLAND。 Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death I
  spy life peering; but I dare not say How near the tidings of our comfort is。
  WILLOUGHBY。 Nay; let us share thy thoughts as thou dost ours。 ROSS。
  Be   confident   to   speak;   Northumberland。   We   three   are   but   thyself;   and;
  speaking      so;   Thy    words     are   but    as  thoughts;     therefore    be    bold。
  NORTHUMBERLAND。 Then thus: I have from Le Port Blanc; a bay In
  Brittany; receiv'd intelligence That Harry Duke of Hereford; Rainold Lord
  Cobham;       That    late   broke    from    the   Duke     of   Exeter;    His   brother;
  Archbishop late of Canterbury; Sir Thomas Erpingham; Sir John Ramston;
  Sir John Norbery; Sir Robert Waterton; and Francis Quoint… All these; well
  furnish'd   by   the   Duke   of   Britaine;   With   eight   tall   ships;   three   thousand
  men of war; Are making hither with all due expedience; And shortly mean
  to touch our northern shore。 Perhaps they had ere this; but that they stay
  The first departing of the King for Ireland。 If then we shall shake off our
  slavish yoke; Imp out our drooping country's broken wing; Redeem from
  broking     pawn    the   blemish'd    crown;    Wipe    off  the   dust  that   hides   our
  sceptre's   gilt; And   make   high   majesty   look   like   itself; Away   with   me   i