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RICHARD DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, HENRY DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, LORD RIVERS, LORD HASTINGS
GLOUC. Most
splendid Rivers, glory of your house, guardian of the youthful King,
my noble lord. Just as Electra snatched her brother from her mother’s
menace and
preserved him for his father’s kingdom, so you faithfully
escort your nephew from the land of Wales and return him safe to his
nation. England is grateful to you for its sovereign, for the return
of this sweet pledge of the realm’s future security. With
justice the crowds sing praises to your loyalty. Our efforts are
pleasing to all Britain, and we have expressed equal gratitude to
you. Wales knows your selfless efforts, and this long journey bears
equal witness to your care for the King, now that Wales has lost its
Prince. When the Titan with his flaming locks returns day to the
world and routs the flitting shadows, together we shall join the King
on the road leading to Stony Stratford. At daybreak we shall push on
at a fast pace, since that one place cannot lodge so many Nobles.
RIV. O
glorious
Claudian, Regent
of this land, noble Duke and scion of the royal family, my sense of
duty bids
me place at the King’s disposal whatever
assets Fortune has granted me. My life, owed to him, must be laid
down in battle, if the threats of the enemy cannot otherwise be
broken. By rights, this night I owe much to you, since I have been a
guest at your table. Now a welcome drowsiness relaxes my body, and I
must take my weary self to bed. I hope for a quiet sleep tonight. [Exit.]
GLOUC.Your most noble Grace, star of Buckingham,
to
whom once a stag, revealing himself, gave a name, and Hastings, born of
a line
of noble fathers, observe: with night summoned, the
sun lets go his reins and bathes his horses’ sweaty manes in
the sea, and the moon surveys an empty sky as she enjoins quiet on
mankind. A gleaming escort of stars follows, spreading a faint light
in the sky. A little farther along a place will be entirely free for
us, where no companion can secretly overhear. Don’t you see how
badly off we Nobles are? Don’t you see how long the virtue of
the Peerage has been spurned? Although we belong to the King’s
high bloodline, and our family is distinguished by great titles, we
are nevertheless granted no access to the King. They refuse to let an
uncle live with his nephew. Where will such a mother’s
impudence come to an end? Already England’s glory has yielded
to a woman. See here, our trustworthiness is doubted. Our due honour
is buried and our noble blood, an object of scorn, has become
tainted. Now the sacred guardianship of the King is entirely
entrusted to his mother’s kin, although we scarcely yield to
them in honor and although our loyalty to our nephew is equal to
theirs. It hardly befits his mother’s low born family — lowborn except
that lust for the kingdom rashly inspired her marriage — to
deny her son his noble uncles
and surround him with baser companions. This is dishonorable to the
sovereign and to us.
Rather, he will be guarded by a more powerful retinue, because evil
awaits us, if any man of the sort who bear ill will against us should
shut up the royal person and intercept his first affections, so that
they themselves may grow old in his favor. The mind, once bent in a
given direction (and deceits beguile naive boys) does not even in its
later years reject that which has long pleased it. Mature age, having
recourse to its original affections and delights, gives its approval.
Nor, once, did Edward the Fourth correct himself, though he was older
than this boy, and although for a long time his stepmother greatly
encouraged his self-discipline, so slow to develop.
Alas, how often he used to repent his acts, even if his tardy
conscience did not put right his earlier mistakes, as I am afraid
Lord Clarence learned. Too
well, I fear, Clarence knew how readily my gullible brother used to
defer to
his wife. Too much, alas, too much our alleged evildoings
goaded him on, because a wife despises anyone whom her husband
favors. How long this harsh fate oppressed our affairs! How much ruin
could the treacherous Queen have created, if my clever mind had not
averted it! But He, the blessed One Who makes the heaven to whirl
with His touch and punishes sad crime with His harsh thunderbolts,
freed me with His strong right hand. Ah me, how often my brother,
stirred up in one of his short-lived tantrums by the trickery of
these folk, killed off people condemned to harsh death, vainly
calling on Jove for mercy! In his anger he was never wont to spare
his own blood — alas, he added his own kinsmen to his heap of
victims.
But
I am bewailing old evils while a new one threatens. For if only our
common enemy
clings to the King’s side, and if the House of
Grey, hating us, will crowd about the throne, then soon our enemies’
power will destroy us. This savage family will dare misuse the King’s
name to our ruin. May provident father Jove prevent this, since at
his death Edward sanctified the holy truce and our ancient wound is
healed by peaceful times — and because we have mutually joined hands
with pretended pledges of peace. When peace had been made, the King’s
sacred power was strong than the doubtful alliances of the Nobles,
and at the royal command we struck a treaty. Is anyone so touched by
insanity that in his folly he believes a new friend can be made out
of an old enemy? Does a short friendship last longer in the mind than
an enduring hatred nursed for many years? So now we must make our
plans. The longer evil creeps along, the stronger it becomes, the
more force it gathers.
BUCK.
Claudian
Regent, prince of the royal blood, since unhappy England seems to
burn again with churning tumult, and civil war begins to grumble, I
have ordered my agent
to whisper in your ear with secret murmur this formal statement: the
Duke of Buckingham will follow your standard. For a long time I have
sought to meet you face to face, so that we could speak together. The
insolent Queen mistreats us. This crime out to be put down
immediately. Evil, once born, begets further wrongdoing and knows no
limit. You ought to cure such a plague upon the kingdom. The Peerage
will tolerate anything, rather than allow the Queen to sport with our
blood, rather than that this fierce woman should rouse her son
against us.
GLOUC.
For this, Your Grace, I call you the defender of the nation the
protector of
England, reeling from a mother’s crime. I call You
to witness, You of the heaven who prescribes laws for kings, and you,
ye heavenly hosts, that I seek only to revive England’s ancient
honor. A grave wound needs strong medicine. The Queen is absent,
unable to aid her captive relatives. Now it is possible safely to
remove from the King all the pestilences of his realm. Now it is
proper to restrain sleeping Rivers and to lock this guest in the
building. If he makes his escape, then he only proves his guilt.
[A servant appears.] You, my man, you must seek the
keys to this house where Rivers has recently retired as a guest. If
they are denied to you, say you are acting by royal authority. Let no
servant break outside, but keep them all shut within. And secretly
instruct my own men, although dark night looms and it is not yet day,
that they should guard my person as we approach our nephew at
daybreak.
HAST.
If
you rashly chain the Queen’s kinsmen in a gloomy dungeon,
the fickle mob will immediately riot, since you are passing unfair
judgments. You accuse men scarce guilty of crimes or misdeeds.
GLOUC.
They both injure their sovereign’s dignity and plot harm
against the Nobility. They seek to tear England asunder, although the
decrees of the Royal Council by rights ought to have appointed me,
the King’s uncle, Regent of this land.
The Marquis, brother of the Greys, has plowed the British Sea with
his huge fleet. Is he able to arm so many troops for our destruction,
and squander the royal treasure, piled up by so many kings?
HAST. But if
Lord Grey sees his uncle
bound in chains, he will immediately gather a band of soldiers and
put a close guard on Edward. Trembling England will take up arms.
Civil war will pull apart our miserable people, everything will burn
with the frenzy of war, and the people will purge away this
wrongdoing with our slaughter.
GLOUC.
Watchful
guards defend all the roads, so that no man can break his way though
Northampton and reach the King before us. I have decided that, after
the day-star has dispelled the flitting shadows and the shining torch
of Phoebus has routed the night, we should be the first to see the
King, so that thus our loyalty, welcome to the sovereign, will shine
forth.
BUCK. Direct
my
strong right arm. My zeal cannot be overcome. No effort can tire out
my anxious care for you, our great Duke. I shall never betray
you.
HAST. Sooner
will the heaven be merged with the sad Underworld, stars will swim in
the sea, fire befriend the raging floods, night conquer day, than you
will have cause to condemn my loyalty. [Enter Lord
Rivers.}
RIV. [To himself.} I know not what dreadful evil my mind
foretells. My limbs shiver with fear, my heart dances with dread. I
wonder why these people ask for the keys of the inn. What great
change of affairs has come about? These men loaded last night’s
table with a feast. Are they about to confine me, to punish me with a
shameful death? They are my friends, and loyalty dislikes deceit. My
mind vacillates, cannot decide what it wants. If I flee, there is no
safe place for refuge. If I hide, then in my folly I shall appear
conscious of guilt. Well then, the innocence of my consciences rules
out any fright, and I am resolved to stay. Whatever comes to pass, I
shall bear it. I shall approach the Dukes to hear what is the
matter.
GLOUC. Oh,
you
enemy of the King, you audacious, impious rascal! You aim to visit
punishment on the Nobility, you sow insolent discords. You invoke the
royal will to our destruction, and, in your madness, you disturb the
realm with your quarrels. You will be responsible, so you think, for
this unspeakable crime.
RIV. Great
prince, think nothing of the kind of me. Let my loyalty, I beg, be
free of this accusation.
GLOUC. Such
a
wicked threat against your King! Shall we allow you freely to seek
our blood? Will you alone assault the high glory of the English? [To
his followers.] You,
punish this man, lock him up in a dark dungeon. The rest of you, guard
my person
as escorts.
RIV. Where
will
you drag me? What penalty does mighty Fortune decree? What evils now
await me? If they want to put me to death, let them condemn me by a
public trial. What hope of safety do I have?
KING EDWARD, THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, THE DUKE OF GLOUCESTER, A SERVANT OF THE KING
ED. Although,
bound by love of my country, I have left Wales and hurry along, I
gladly leave Stony Stratford since they tell me that Gloucester is
hastening here,
as that single place cannot hold so many Nobles.
BUCK.
Encircled
by his kin, Edward now approaches. You who rejoice in your ancestral
lineage, proceed. Let the commoners follow.
GLOUC. Long
live
the glorious King of England!
ED. Your
sight
is pleasing to me, uncle, since I have lately left barbaric regions.
I return thanks equal to your good wishes.
BUCK. May
God
confirm your happy reign!
ED. I
likewise
praise your loyalty, your noble Grace.
GLOUC. My
irresistible nature has dedicated my loyalty to your bidding,
and my noble birth forbids me to
deceive the King, although in other
matters my sense of public duty commands my faith. Hostile fire will
inhabit the waters, 7a ship will sail the stars, and a strange oak
will rise up in the savage sea, if ever false loyalty corrupts me,
heedless of you. Gladly I will give my life for you in battle. I seek
to die dutifully, hostile to your enemies.
What
ambition
tempts you, arrogant Grey, or your brother and savage Rivers, so that
you design to gain power over your prince and split the Nobility with
foul discord? Behold, you disturb the English with your base
quarrels, and the flower of high noble blood is made a mockery. Why
does the Marquis of Dorset persist in threatening us? He brazenly
broke into the Tower of Belinus,
and with his greedy hand he loots the royal treasure and burdens the
wide sea with a great fleet.
ED. I do not know what my half-brother the Marquis has been doing.
Believe me, I have never doubted the loyalty of my uncle and his
brother Grey.
GLOUC.
Indeed,
glorious King, such machinations are hidden from your ears. Rather,
secret crime is at work. I say you are guilty of treason, wretched
Grey. I declare that Vaughan
is party to the crime, and at the same I call you, treacherous Haute,
a
betrayer of the nation [To his men.] Hide them in a
squalid prison at once. Let them pay severe penalties to the
nation.
A SERVANT OF
THE KING Poor boy! He waters his cheeks with tears as he sees his brother
dragged off to sad chains.
GLOUC [Overhearing.]
I dismiss you from your service, my
man, no do I wish you to stay at the Prince’s side. [To
one of his own servants.] You, stand by the sovereign as a
faithful companion. Constant toil will bind you to the King. [All
the rest exit, leaving the servant to the King behind
alone.]
SERV. K. This
weak boy is not bearing up under the weight of his father’s
kingdom. Overcome by its own powers, it
is in a state of collapse. Sacred majesty, protected only by its own
name, contemplates
its most intimate enemies, while ambition
secretly plans its baleful ruin. The credibility of this mistrusted
reign is small, and the covert infighting of the land allows the
anxious prince no rest. The man of humbler station is safer, and he
will not be tormented by fear of losing the scepter or by the unequal
rank of his parents’ families. Almighty God, Who makes the
bright stars to turn and pains the globes in the sky with fire,
defend the King of England, so that he, the true heir, may give laws
to our land! [A servant of the Duke of Gloucester approaches,
bearing a dish.] What servant quickly approaches? Where do
you so haughtily direct your step?
SERV. G. The
noble Rivers has sent me to his nephew.
SERV. K. Are
you
one of the Duke’s jailors?
SERV. G. As
a
loyal follower, it is my habit to be at his side.
SERV. K. why
have you come here, acting as the uncle’s messenger to his
nephew?
SERV.
G. When hunger began to gnaw at dinnerless Gloucester, they set
the Duke’s table with elegant foodstuffs. He intently surveyed
the feast and sent choice morsels to Rivers. And he bade him put up
with these troubles with a calm mind: nothing in these matters needs
be feared.
SERV. K. Was
Rivers so foolish as to reject these gifts?
SERV. G. The
man
whom long experience has taught to bear misfortune, as often as harsh
Fortune thunders at him, has less need of consolation for his
afflicted life. So after Rivers had expressed his heartfelt thanks,
he commanded that these dainties be taken to Grey. Unaccustomed
sadness has shattered him, and, since he is young, he has not learned
how to cope with reversals. Rivers hopes the Duke’s kind words
will steady his nerve, and that the supper will reassure his
distraught mind. But now I must carry out such a great man’s
orders. (Exit.)
SERV. K.
Does
falsehood lurk behind an innocent front, waiting to wound the unwary
deeply? Or does a changed fortune bless us by a happy chance, freeing
these poor men from the terrors of prison? May the end of such a
storm turn out for the best! (Exit.)