Volume Vii Part 76 (1/2)

JOHN. Too much? too little!

He shall have that and more; I swear he shall.

I will have Nottingham and Salisbury, Stafford and Darby, and some other earldom, Or, by St John (whose blessed name I bear), I'll make these places like a wilderness.

Is't not a plague, an horrible abuse, A king, a King of England, should be father To four such proper youths as Hal and d.i.c.k, My brother Geoffrey, and my proper self, And yet not give his sons such maintenance, As he consumes among his minions?

RICH. Be more respective, John.

JOHN. Respective, Richard?

Are you turn'd pure? a changing weatherc.o.c.k! [_Aside_.

I say its reason Henry should be king, Thou prince, I duke, as Geoffrey is a duke.

LAN. What shall your father do?

JOHN. Live at his prayers, Have a sufficient pension by the year, Repent his sins, because his end is near.

GLO. A gracious son, a very gracious son! [_Aside_.

KING. Will this content you? I that have sat still, Amaz'd to see my sons devoid of shame; To hear my subjects with rebellious tongues Wound the kind bosom of their sovereign; Can no more bear, but from a bleeding heart Deliver all my love for all your hate: Will this content ye?[455] Cruel Elinor, Your savage mother, my uncivil queen: The tigress, that hath drunk the purple blood Of three times twenty thousand valiant men; Was.h.i.+ng her red chaps in the weeping tears Of widows, virgins, nurses, sucking babes; And lastly, sorted with her d.a.m.n'd consorts, Ent'red a labyrinth to murther love.

Will this content you? She shall be releas'd, That she may next seize me she most envies!

HEN. Our mother's liberty is some content.

KING. What else would Henry have?

HEN. The kingdom.

KING. Peruse this bill; draw near; let us confer.

JOHN. Hal, be not answered but with sovereignty, For glorious is the sway of majesty.

KING. What would content you, John?

JOHN. Five earldoms, sir.

KING. What you, son Richard?

RICH. Pardon, gracious father, And th'furtherance for my vow of penance.

For I have sworn to G.o.d and all his saints, These arms erected in rebellious brawls Against my father and my sovereign, Shall fight the battles of the Lord of Hosts, In wrong'd Judaea and Palestina.

That shall be Richard's penance for his pride, His blood a satisfaction for his sin, His patrimony, men, munition, And means to waft them into Syria.

KING. Thou shalt have thy desire, heroic son, As soon as other home-bred brawls are done.

LAN. Why weeps old Fauconbridge?

FAU. I am almost blind, To hear sons cruel and the fathers kind.

Now, well-a-year,[456] that e'er I liv'd to see Such patience and so much impiety!

GLO. Brother, content thee; this is but the first: Worse is a-brewing, and yet not the worst.