Richard II

by SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAMBATE, JONATHAN

• ISBN13: 9780812969306
• ISBN10: 0812969308
• Format: Trade Paper
• Copyright: 2010-09-14
• Publisher: Modern Library

Summary

This moving and eloquent historical drama depicts the conflict between a willful and arrogant poet of a king, Richard II, and his politically pragmatic cousin, Bolingbroke. Rich with memorable scenes and speeches, this lyrical history moves from a splendid medieval tournament to the poignant surrender of a crown; from the queen's heart-shattering farewell to her king to Richard's murdera deed "chronicled in hell" that lives forever as one of the great moments in theater. From the Paperback edition.

Author Biography

William Shakespeare was born in Stratford-upon-Avon in April 1564, and his birth is traditionally celebrated on April 23. The facts of his life, known from surviving documents, are sparse. He was one of eight children born to John Shakespeare, a merchant of some standing in his community. William probably went to the King’s New School in Stratford, but he had no university education. In November 1582, at the age of eighteen, he married Anne Hathaway, eight years his senior, who was pregnant with their first child, Susanna. She was born on May 26, 1583. Twins, a boy, Hamnet ( who would die at age eleven), and a girl, Judith, were born in 1585. By 1592 Shakespeare had gone to London working as an actor and already known as a playwright. A rival dramatist, Robert Greene, referred to him as “an upstart crow, beautified with our feathers.” Shakespeare became a principal shareholder and playwright of the successful acting troupe, the Lord Chamberlain’s Men (later under James I, called the King’ s Men). In 1599 the Lord Chamberlain’s Men built and occupied the Globe Theater in Southwark near the Thames River. Here many of Shakespeare’s plays were performed by the most famous actors of his time, including Richard Burbage, Will Kempe, and Robert Armin. In addition to his 37 plays, Shakespeare had a hand in others, including Sir Thomas More and The Two Noble Kinsmen, and he wrote poems, including Venus and Adonis and The Rape of Lucrece. His 154 sonnets were published, probably without his authorization, in 1609. In 1611 or 1612 he gave up his lodgings in London and devoted more and more time to retirement in Stratford, though he continued writing such plays as The Tempest and Henry VII until about 1613. He died on April 23 1616, and was buried in Holy Trinity Church, Stratford. No collected edition of his plays was published during his life-time, but in 1623 two members of his acting company, John Heminges and Henry Condell, put together the great collection now called the First Folio.

Excerpts

Chapter 1

Act 1 Scene 1 running scene 1

Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles and Attendants

KING RICHARD Old John of Gaunt, time-honoured 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,

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,

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. [Exit an Attendant]

Face to face,

And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear

Th'accuser and the accusèd freely speak;

High-stomached are they both, and full of ire,

In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

Enter Bullingbrook and Mowbray

BULLINGBROOK 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!

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?

BULLINGBROOK 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.

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;

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;

And wish - so please my sovereign - ere I move,

What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove.

MOWBRAY Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal:

'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,

The bitter clamour 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 nought at all to say.

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 doubly down his throat.

Setting aside his high blood's royalty,

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

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.

BULLINGBROOK Pale trembling coward, there I Throws down his gage

throw my gage,

Disclaiming here the kindred of a king,

And lay aside my high blood's royalty,

Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.

If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength

As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop.

By that and all