Act I, Scene 2 [A house near London]
Enter Greene, Bagot and Tresilian, in rage
Tresilian
Nay, good sir Henry, King Richard calls for you.

Bagot
Prithee sweet Greene
Visit his highness and forsake these passions.

Green
'Sblood I am vexed, Tresilian mad me not,
Thyself and I and all are now undone.
The Lords at London are secured from harm,
The plot is revealed. black curses seize the traitor!

Bagot
Eternal torments whip that Carmelite!

Tresilian
A deeper hell than limbo patrum hold him,
A fainting villain, confusion crush his soul!

Bagot
Could the false slave recoil, and swore their deaths!

Green
Mischief devour him! had it but taken effect
On Lancaster and Edmund Duke of York
(Those headstrong Uncles to the gentle King)
The third brother, plain Thomas, the protector
Had quickly been removed; but since it is thus
Our safeties must be cared for, and it is best
To keep us near the person of the King.
Had they been dead, we had ruled the realm and him.

Bagot
So shall we still so long as Richard lives.
I know he cannot brook his stubborn Uncles.
Come, think not on it: cheer thee, Tresilian
Here is better news for thee: we have so wrought
With Kingly Richard, that by his consent
You are already mounted on your footcloth
(Your scarlet or your purple, which ye please)
And shortly are to underprop the name,
Mark me, Tresilian, of Lord Chief Justice of England.

Tresilian
Hum, hum, hum. legit or non legit? methinks already
I sit upon the bench with dreadful frowns
Frighting the lousy rascals,
And when the jury once cries "guilty" could pronounce
"Lord have mercy on thee", with a brow
As rough and stern as surly rhadamanth;
Or when a fellow talks, cry "take him, jailor,
Clap bolts of iron on his heels and hands!"
Chief Justice, my Lords! hum, hum, hum.
I will wear the office in his true ornament.

Green
But good your honour, as it will shortly be,
You must observe and fashion to the time
The habit of your laws. the King is young
Ay, and a little wanton, so perhaps are we:
Your laws must not be beadles then, Tresilian,
To punish your benefactors, look to that.

Tresilian
How sir, to punish you, the minions to the King,
The jewels of his heart, his dearest loves?
Zounds, I will screw and wind the stubborn law
To any fashion that shall like you best.
It shall be law, what I shall say is law,
And what is most suitable to all your pleasures.

Bagot
Thanks to your Lordship which is yet to come!

Green
Farewell, Tresilian, still be near the court.
Anon King Richard shall confirm thy state.
We must attend his Grace to Westminster
To the high nuptials of fair Anne-a-Beame,
That must be now his wife and England's Queen.

Tresilian
So, let them pass. Tresilian, now bethink thee.
Hum, Lord Chief Justice: methinks already
I am swelled more plump than erst I was.
Authority is a dish that feeds men fat,
An excellent delicate: yet best be wise,
No state is secure without some enemies.
The Dukes will frown; why, I can look as grim
As John-of-Gaunt, and all that frown with him.
But yet until mine office be put on
By Kingly Richard, I will conceal myself:
Framing such subtle laws that janus-like
May with a double face salute them both.
I will search my brain and turn the leaves of law:
Wit makes us great, greatness keeps fools in awe.
My man there, ho! where is Nimble?

[Enter] Nimble

Nimble
As Nimble as an eel, sir. did ye call, sir?

Tresilian
Sir! look out some better phrase: salute again.

Nimble
I know no other, sir, unless you will be frenchified,
And let me lay the Monsieur to your charge, or sweet
Signior.

Tresilian
Neither. It is higher yet. Nimble, thou buckram
scribe, think once again.

Nimble
Neither sir: nor Monsieur: nor Signior. what should
I call him, trow? He is monstrously translated
suddenly! At first, when we were schoolfellows, then
I called him Sirrah, but since he became my master I
pared away the "ah" and served him with the Sir. What
title he has got now, I know not, but I will try
further. Has your Worship any employment for me?

Tresilian
Thou gross uncaput, no, thou speakest not yet.

Nimble
My mouth was open I am sure. if your Honour
would please to hear me.

Tresilian
Ha, Honour sayest thou? Ay, now thou hittest it,
Nimble.

Nimble
I knew I should wind about ye till I had your
honour.

Tresilian
Nimble, bend thy knee.
The Lord chief justice of England speaks to thee.

Nimble
The Lord be praised! We shall have a flourishing
commonwealth, sir.

Tresilian
Peace, let me speak to thee.

Nimble
Yes, anything, so your honour pray not for me, I
care not; for now you are Lord Chief Justice, if ever
ye cry, Lord have mercy upon me, I shall hang for it,
sure!

Tresilian
No. Those fearful words shall not be pronounced
against thee, Nimble.

Nimble
Thank ye, my Lord. Nay, and you will stand between
me and the gallows, I will be an arrant thief, sure, if
I cannot pick up my crumbs by the law quickly, I will
cast away my buckram bags and be a highway lawyer now,
certainly.

Tresilian
Canst thou remember, Nimble, how by degrees I rose,
since first thou knewest me? I was first a schoolboy.

Nimble
Ay, saving your honour's speech, your worshipful
tail was whipped for stealing my dinner out of my
satchel. You were ever so crafty in your childhood,
that I knew your worship would prove a good lawyer.

Tresilian
Interrupt me not. Those days thou knewest, I say,
from whence I did become a plodding clerk,
from which I bounced, as thou dost now, in buckram
to be a pleading lawyer (and there I stayed)
till by the King I was Chief Justice made.
Nimble, I read this discipline to thee
to stir thy mind up still to industry.

Nimble
Thank your good Lordship.

Tresilian
Go to thy mistress: lady you now must call her.
Bid her remove her household up to London;
tell her our fortunes, and with how much peril
we have attained this place of eminence.
Go and remove her.

Nimble
With a habeas corpus or a surssararis, I assure ye.
And so I leave your Lordship, always hoping of your
Wonted favour, that when I have passed the London
Bridge of affliction I may arrive with you at the
Westminster hall of promotion, and then I care not.

Tresilian
Thou shalt; thou hast an executing look
and I will put the axe into thy hand.
I rule the law: thou by the law shalt stand.

Nimble
I thank your Lordship, and a fig for the rope then!

[Act I, Scene 3: London, the Court]
Sound a sennet. Enter in great state King Richard and Queen Anne, crowned: Lancaster, York Arundel, Surrey, Greene, Bagot; and Woodstock very brave; the Duchess of Gloster and the Duchess of Ireland.
King
Bagot and Greene, next to the fair Queen Anne
Take your high places, by King Richard's side
And give fair welcome to our Queen and bride.
Uncles of Woodstock, York, and Lancaster,
Make full our wishes, and salute our Queen;
Give all your welcomes to fair Anne-a-Beame.

Lancaster
I hope sweet prince, her Grace mistakes us not
To make our hearts the worser part of us:
Our tongues have in our English eloquence
(Harsh though it is) pronounced her welcomes many
By oaths and loyal protestations
To which we add a thousand infinites;
But in a word, fair Queen, forever welcome!

Woodstock
Let me prevent the rest, for mercy's sake!
If all their welcomes be as long as thine
This health will not go round this week, by the mass!
Sweet Queen, and cousin, now I will call you so,
In plain and honest phrase, welcome to England!
Think they speak all in me, and you have seen
All England cry with joy, "God bless the Queen",
And so afore my God I know they wish it.
Only I fear my duty not misconstered,
Nay, nay, King Richard, afore God I will speak the truth!
Sweet Queen, you have found a young and wanton choice,
A wild-head, yet a Kingly gentleman;
A youth unsettled; yet he is princely bred
Descended from the royalest bloods in Europe,
The Kingly stock of England and of France.
Yet he is a hare-brain, a very wag in faith,
But you must bear, Madam: alas, he is but a blossom;
But his maturity I hope you will find
True English bred, a King loving and kind.

King
I thank ye for your double praise, good Uncle.

Woodstock
Ay, ay good coz, I am plain Thomas, by the rood
I will speak the truth.

Queen
My sovereign Lord, and you true English peers
Your all-accomplished honours have so tied
My senses by a magical restraint
In the sweet spells of this your fair demeanours,
That I am bound and charmed from what I was:
My native country I no more remember
But as a tale told in my infancy,
The greatest part forgot: and that which is,
Appears to England's fair elysium
Like brambles to the cedars, coarse to fine,
Or like the wild grape to the fruitful vine.
And, having left the earth where I was bred
And English made, let me be Englished:
They best shall please me shall me English call.
My heart, great King, to you; my love to all.

King
Gramercy, man, thou highly honourest me.

York
And blest is England in this sweet accord.

Woodstock
Afore my God, sweet Queen, our English ladies
And all the women that this isle contains
Shall sing in praise of this your memory
And keep records of virtuous Anne-a-Beame
Whose discipline hath taught them womanhood.
What erst seemed well by custom, now looks rude.
Our women, till your coming, fairest cousin
Did use like men to straddle when they ride,
But you have taught them now to sit aside.
Yet (by your leave) young practice often reels;
I have seen some of your scholars kick up both their
heels!

Duchess of Gloucester
What have you seen, my Lord?

Woodstock
Nay, nay, nothing, wife.
I see little without spectacles thou knowest.

King
Trust him not, Aunt, for now he is grown so brave
He will be courting, ay, and kissing too.
Nay, Uncle! now I will do as much for you,
And lay your faults all open to the world!

Woodstock
Ay, ay, do, do.

King
I am glad you are grown so careless: now by my crown
I swear, good Uncles York and Lancaster,
When you this morning came to visit me
I did not know him in this strange attire.
How comes this golden metamorphosis
From homespun housewifery? speak, good Uncle!
I never saw you hatched and gilded thus.

Woodstock
I am no stoic, my dear sovereign cousin,
To make my plainness seem canonical,
But to allow myself such ornaments
As might be fitting for your nuptial day
And coronation of your virtuous Queen;
But were the eye of day once closed again
Upon this back they never more should come.

King
You have much graced the day. but, noble Uncle
I did observe what I have wondered at:
As we, today, rode on to Westminster
Methought your horse, that wont to tread the ground
And pace as if he kicked it, scornfully,
Mound and curvet, like strong Bucephalus,
Today he trod as slow and melancholy
As if his legs had failed to bear his load.

Woodstock
And can ye blame the beast? afore my God
He was not wont to bear such loads. indeed,
A hundred oaks upon these shoulders hang
To make me brave upon your wedding day,
And more than that: to make my horse more tire,
Ten acres of good land are stitched up here.
You know, good coz, this was not wont to be.

King
In your tother hose, Uncle?

Green
No, nor his frieze coat neither!

Woodstock
Ay, ay, mock on. my tother hose, say ye?
There is honest plain dealing in my tother hose.
Should this fashion last I must raise new rents,
Undo my poor tenants, turn away my servants,
And guard myself with lace; nay, sell more land
And Lordships too, by the rood. hear me King Richard:
If thus I jet in pride, I still shall lose;
But I will build castles in my tother hose.

Queen
The King but jests, my Lord; and you grow angry.

Woodstock
Tother hose! did some here wear that fashion
They would not tax and pill the commons so!

York
(Sfoot, he forewarned us, and will break
Out himself.)

Lancaster
No matter, we will back him though it grows to blows.

Woodstock
Scoff ye my plainness, I will talk no riddles,
Plain Thomas will speak plainly: there is Bagot there,
And Greene -

Green
And what of them, my Lord?

Woodstock
Upstarts, come down, you have no places there;
Here is better men to Grace King Richard's chair,
If it pleased him Grace them so.

King
Uncle, forbear.

Woodstock
These cuts the columns that should prop thy house
They tax the poor, and I am scandaled for it
That by my fault those late oppressions rise
To set the commons in a mutiny
That London even itself was sacked by them.
And who did all these rank commotions point at?
Even at these two: Bagot here, and Greene,
With false Tresilian, whom your Grace we hear
Hath made chief justice. well, well, be it so.
Mischief on mischief sure will shortly flow.
Pardon my speech, my Lord, since now we are all so
Brave to Grace Queen Anne, this day we will spend in
Sport; but in my tother hose, I will tickle them for it.

Green
Come, come, ye dote, my Lord.

Lancaster
Dote, sir? know ye to whom ye speak?

King
No more, good Uncles. Come, sweet Greene, have done.
(I will wring them all for this, by England's crown).
Why is our Lord Protector so outrageous?

Woodstock
Because thy subjects have such outrage shown them
By these thy flatterers. let the sun dry up
What the unwholesome fog hath choked the ground with.
Here is Arundel, thy ocean's admiral
Hath brought thee home a rich and wealthy prize,
Taken three score sail of ships, and six great carracks
All richly laden; let those goods be sold
To satisfy those borrowed sums of coin
Their pride hath forced from the needy commons:
To salve which inconvenience I beseech your Grace
You would vouchsafe to let me have the sale
And distribution of those goods.

King
Our word, good Uncle, is already passed,
Which cannot with our honour be recalled:
Those wealthy prizes already are bestowed
On these our friends.

Lords
On them, my Lord?

King
Yes. Who storms at it?

Woodstock
Shall cankers eat the fruit
That planting and good husbandry hath nourished?

Green
Cankers?!

York
Ay, cankers! caterpillars!

Lancaster
Worse than consuming fires
That eats up all their furies falls upon.

King
Once more be still.
Who is it that dares encounter with our will?
We did bestow them, hear me, kind Uncles:
We shall ere long be past protectorship
Then will we rule ourself, and even till then
We let ye know those gifts are given to them.
We did it, Woodstock.

Woodstock
Ye have done ill, then.

King
Ha, dare ye say so?

Woodstock
Dare I? afore my God I will speak, King Richard,
Were I assured this day my head should off.
I tell ye sir, my allegiance stands excused
In justice of the cause. Ye have done ill.
The sun of mercy never shine on me
But I speak truth. when warlike Arundel,
Beset at sea, fought for those wealthy prizes
He did with fame advance the English cross,
Still crying "courage in King Richard's name."
For thee he won them, and do thou enjoy them,
He will fetch more honours home. But had he known
That kites should have enjoyed the eagle's prize
The fraught had swum unto thine enemies.

King
So, sir. We will soothe your vexed spleen, good Uncle
And mend what is amiss. To those slight gifts
Not worth acceptance, thus much more we add:
Young Henry Greene shall be Lord Chancellor,
Bagot, Lord Keeper of our privy seal,
Tresilian, learned in our kingdom's laws,
Shall be Chief Justice. By them and their directions
King Richard will uphold his government.

Green
Change no more words, my Lord, ye do deject
Your Kingly majesty to speak to such
Whose home-spun judgments, like their frosty beards
Would blast the blooming hopes of all your Kingdom.
Were I as you, my Lord -

Queen
Oh, gentle Greene, throw no more fuel on
But rather seek to mitigate this heat.
Be patient, Kingly Richard, quench this ire.
Would I had tears of force to stint this fire!

King
Beshrew the churls that make my Queen so sad.
But by my grandsire Edward's Kingly bones,
My princely father's tomb, King Richard swears
We will make them weep these wrongs in bloody tears.
Come, fair Queen Anne-a-Beame. Bagot and Greene,
Keep by King Richard's side; but as for you,
We will shortly make your stiff obedience bow.

Bagot
Remember this, my Lords:
We keep the Seal: our strength you all shall know.

Green
And we are chancellor: we love you well, think so.

York
God for his mercy! shall we brook these braves,
Disgraced and threatened thus by fawning knaves?

Lancaster
Shall we that were great Edward's princely sons
Be thus outbraved by flattering sycophants?

Woodstock
Afore my God and holy saints I swear
But that my tongue hath liberty to show
The inly passions boiling in my breast,
I think my overburthened heart would break.
What then may we conjecture? What is the cause
Of this remiss and inconsiderate dealing
Urged by the King and his confederates,
But hate to virtue, and a mind corrupt
With all preposterous rude misgovernment?

Lancaster
These prizes taken by warlike Arundel
Before his face are given those flatterers.

Surrey
It is his custom to be prodigal
To any but to those do best deserve.

Arundel
Because he knew you would bestow them well
He gave it such as for their private gain
Neglect both honour and their country's good.

Lancaster
How now, what noise is this?

York
Some posts, it seems: pray heaven the news be good.

Woodstock
Amen. I pray, for England's happiness.
Speak, speak, what tidings Cheyney?

Cheyney
Of war, my Lord and civil dissension:
the men of Kent and Essex do rebel.

Woodstock
I thought no less; and always feared as much.

Cheyney
The Shrieves in post have sent unto your Grace
That order be taken to stay the commons
For fear rebellion rise in open arms.