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He is as like thee as a man may be,
yet I love him.
Windsor. A Room in the Castle.
Enter BOLINGBROKE as King ; Percy, and other
Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?
Takes on the point of honour, to support
Boling. And what said the gallant ?
Percy. His answer was,-he would unto the stews;
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.
[Ereunt Percy and Lords. What is the matter with our cousin now? Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
[Kneels. My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak.
Boling. Inten J, or committed, was this fault?
Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
[Aumerle locks the door. York. [Within.] My liege, beware; look to thy
self; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. [Drawing.
Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand; Thou hast no cause to fear. 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.
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
hand. York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it
down. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence :
Boling. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy ! -
York. So shall my virtuc 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 sham'd 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. Duch. [Within.) What ho, my liege! for God's
sake, let me in. Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this
eager cry? Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; 'tis I. 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 chang'd to The Beggar and the King 50,My dangerous cousin, let your mother in ; I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin.
York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may.
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound;
Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted man ; Love, loving not itself, none other can. York. Thou frantick 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 may'st 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 : His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow :