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THE DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM, A LONDONER
Let the Mayor come first accompanied with citizens, then the Duke with other nobles: they assemble at Bernhardes Castle.
BUCK.
Reverend throng of citizens, of the kind which the glorious city of
London produces in abundance, see how every man is come here with
happy step, of his own free will, how every sort of townsman has
thronged here, so that they might give back to Gloucester the scepter
usurped by his bastard nephews, lest these spurious offspring befoul
the reign. (He sendeth his man into the palace.) But you, give
the Duke advanced notice of our coming, lest such an upheaval might
immediately disturb the anxious man. Tormented by England’s
heavy travails, his fellow citizens humbly beg that he will deem this
approach by his faithful subjects compatible with his dignity, while
they consult with him about very serious matters.
Kingship is
a
great burden, nor does its sweet poison immediately attract good men,
men whom civil madness will vex with its everlasting threats. Lo, men
choose elegant manors for themselves by fraud, and no weapons suffice
to protect the sovereign. And although — [Here he observes
that he is losing the people’s attention and breaks
off.] — but this public address is oppressive. Why do I
persist in it? Because even if his great care for the crown
recommends this pious duty to him and his faithfulness renders the
Duke free of any suspicion of coveting the throne, I still fear that
the idea that an uncle’s reign is infamous will deter him, as
long as his nephews are alive. He has a deep sense of honor. The Duke
desires to remain in obscurity, removed from the violent evils of
envy. (His servant retourneth and secretly reporteth to the Duke,
whom he sendeth againe.)
Citizens,
the Regent, made suspicious by the size of our crowd, refuses to give
us a hearing
unless he knows the reason for our
approach. [To the servant.] Report to him that a large
number of Nobles and also the Lord Mayor, escorted by many citizens,
humbly wish to consult with him. A domestic evil troubles us, which
this band of people will entrust to his ears alone. [To the
crowd.] But let us abase ourselves and petition Gloucester.
With many prayers we shall beseech this reluctant man that, as the
legal heir, he must occupy the throne of this kingdom.
But see,
escorted by two bishops, the pious prince appears on his balcony.
Ah, this blessed Duke thinks only of
divine matters!
A LONDONER Oh
lying fraud, doing its work with boldness! While it cheats, wearing
an alien guise, in its self-confidence it fears nothing. But the Duke
thinks nobody else able to withstand his hidden evil, and his
criminality is self-deceiving. [Enter Gloucester.]
BUCK. Great
Prince, this numerous crowd of citizens requests that it be permitted
to address Your Excellence about a serious matter. They bring
unheard-of great things for the kingdom, and great glory for
yourself. But the crowd does not dare express its pious bidding,
unless you signify that this is permitted.
GLOUC. It
will
be permissible to speak your mind. It is advantageous to know the
public will.
BUCK.
The people, having long suffered tyranny, are delighted that the day
has at last
dawned on which they may finally free themselves
of their ancient fear, and on which there is welcome security for
their lives. So, unique heir, when the Commons met in full assembly
and discussed public matters, by their vote they ratified that you
should claim the glory of the kingdom. Nor does the scepter,
oppressed by the Queen Mother’s adultery, tolerate the unclean
offspring of your brother. So now this crowd of citizens has come, so
that by public acclamation it might humbly ask much of you — that
you free your fellow citizens of their long-standing terror, and that
with a wise hand you govern the kingdom that rightfully belongs to
you.
GLOUC.
Although
I know full well how truthful are the people’s claims, I
nonetheless fear the shades of my late brother, nor am I so insane as
to be a cruel uncle to my nephews. Nor will the public attack me with
wild statements that I am seeking my brother’s throne. Nor, by
the same token, let foreign nations wound me with reproaches if I,
the uncle, should feloniously usurp the throne from my nephews by
deceit, or should seize my kinsman’s scepter that is not
properly mine. Rather, I shall remain withdrawn, safe from the
injuries of envy. Blind ambition does not beset my mind. The duties
of overseeing my kinsman’s kingdom weigh on me
sufficiently.
But I do not
regret that you have said these things to me. Rather, your love
compels me to express my gratitude. I beg you, do not love my nephew
the less because I administer his government as a private citizen.
Although, as a boy, he has not learned how to rule, nevertheless he
is assisted by my efforts.
This
boy will sufficiently protect the glory of the realm, which nobody
denies has
recently come to flourish more. After the
Protectorship was entrusted to me, ancient hatred ceased; threats
were dissolved, and grudges, defeated, have languished, partially
because of good counsel, but mostly in accordance with the will of
God. Let nothing injure the King’s rule, good gentlemen. It is
fitting that I be content with the title of subject.
BUCK. Allow
us
to say a little in our turn, famous Duke. His subjects will not
permit your nephews to rule, the great Peers forbid it, the lowly
Commoners forbid it. They are zealous to purge the throne of the blot
of adultery. If you stubbornly refuse the scepter, they still hope by
their entreaties to persuade some nobleman of the sort who delights
in the splendor of royal pomp. Therefore let these people hear your
decision about these matters.
GLOUC. I
regret
that the people begrudge his children their father’s kingdom,
since I honor my late brother’s memory. Would that they would
tolerate his nephew’s rule! But nobody can govern an unwilling
people. Since I see that they have decided this by their unanimous
vote, and since they are deposing my illegitimate nephews, inasmuch
as I, the sole heir, have a claim on the laws of the realm, being my
father’s sole surviving son, and inasmuch as it is needful to
defer to my fellow citizens, I bow to your wishes. Behold, I lay
claim to my rightful kingdom. And I think I am created King all the
more since this is done by the vote of my subjects. I accept the care
of England, and also that of France: as
King I claim my two kingdoms, and as sovereign I shall hold the reins
of England
more legitimately. The peaceful tranquility of our
citizens assures me of this. Then conquered France will learn to bear
our bridle. Subdued, France will enrich English glory. And if I were
such a wretch as not to seek such glory, I hope that the treacherous
Fates break my life’s thread.
CHORUS King Richard! King Richard! King Richard!
The Duke and noblemen go in to the King, the Mayor and citizens departe away.
LOND. Sad crime seeks the
appearance of virtue, and vice is ashamed of its own unsightly face.
Alas, what naive man is unaware of these hidden
deceits, of the uncle’s thousand schemes? Who fails to see that
his brother’s kingdom was not already promised to him by
deceit? In public he refuses the throne he secretly sought by his
wiles. His pretended piety condemns the scepter which he acquires.
Just as a bishop twice refuses to be consecrated,
albeit,
perhaps, he has actually lobbied for the office, so the King, willingly
compelled,
wields the boy’s usurped scepter. But we
common folk are obliged to witness these stage-plays.
A
King is permitted to do what he wants, nor does a ruler always measure
his desires
according to pious law. Often it is best not to
know something — which you know full well.