Showing posts with label Richard II. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Richard II. Show all posts

Monday, 30 May 2016

The Crown


"Now mark me, how I will undo myself; 
I give this heavy weight from off my head 
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand, 
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; 
With mine own tears I wash away my balm, 

With mine own hands I give away my crown, 
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, 
With mine own breath release all duty's rites: 
All pomp and majesty I do forswear; 
My manors, rents, revenues I forego; 

My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny: 
God pardon all oaths that are broke to me! 
God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee! 
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved, 
And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved! 

Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, 
And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit! 
God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says, 
And send him many years of sunshine days! 
What more remains?"

Geronimo’s Heirs Sue Secret Yale Society Over His Skull

HOUSTON — The descendants of Geronimo have sued Skull and Bones, a secret society at Yale University with ties to the Bush family, charging that its members robbed his grave in 1918 and have kept his skull in a glass case ever since.
The claim is part of a lawsuit filed in federal court in Washington on Tuesday, the 100th anniversary of Geronimo’s death. The Apache warrior’s heirs are seeking to recover all his remains, wherever they may be, and have them transferred to a new grave at the headwaters of the Gila River in New Mexico, where Geronimo was born and wished to be interred.
“I believe strongly from my heart that his spirit was never released,” Geronimo’s great-grandson Harlyn Geronimo, 61, told reporters Tuesday at the National Press Club.
Geronimo died a prisoner of war at Fort Sill, Okla., in 1909. A longstanding tradition among members of Skull and Bones holds that Prescott S. Bush — father of President George Bush and grandfather of President George W. Bush — broke into the grave with some classmates during World War I and made off with the skull, two bones, a bridle and some stirrups, all of which were put on display at the group’s clubhouse in New Haven, known as the Tomb.

A National Archives image of Geronimo taken in 1887. Agence France-Press/Getty Images 

The story gained some validity in 2005, when a historian discovered a letter written in 1918 from one Skull and Bones member to another saying the skull had been taken from a grave at Fort Sill along with several pieces of tack for a horse.
Ramsey Clark, a former United States attorney general who is representing Geronimo’s family, acknowledged he had no hard proof that the story was true. Yet he said he hoped the court would clear up the matter.
Continue reading the main story
Tom Conroy, a spokesman for Yale, declined to comment on the lawsuit but was quick to note that the Tomb was not on university property.
Members of the Skull and Bones, who guard their organization’s secrecy, could not be reached for comment. Though the society is not officially affiliated with the university, many of Yale’s most powerful alumni are members, among them both Bush presidents and Senator John Kerry, Democrat of Massachusetts.

Legend has it that Prescott S. Bush stole Geronimo’s skull.Associated Press 

“Of all the items rumored to be in the Skull and Bones’s possession, Geronimo’s skull is one of the more plausible ones,” said Alexandra Robbins, the author of “Secrets of the Tomb” (Little Brown 2002), a book about the society. “There is a skull encased in a glass display when you walk in the door of the Tomb, and they call it Geronimo.”
Some local historians and anthropologists in Oklahoma have cast doubt on the tale, noting that no independent evidence has been found to suggest that Geronimo’s grave was disturbed in 1918. Ten years later, the army covered the grave with concrete and replaced a simple wooden headstone with a stone monument, making it nearly impregnable.
Geronimo, whose given name was Goyathlay, put up fierce resistance to white settlers, fighting the Mexican and United States armies for nearly three decades. He finally surrendered, with only 35 men left, to Gen. Nelson A. Miles on the New Mexico-Arizona border in 1886 and spent the rest of his life in prison, dying of pneumonia.
Not all Apaches want to move his remains to New Mexico. The branch of the tribe that settled at Fort Sill after Geronimo died is fighting to keep the grave where it is.
“There is nothing to be gained by digging up the dead,” said Jeff Houser, the chairman of the Fort Sill Apache Tribe. “It will not repair the damage to the tribe caused by its removal and imprisonment.”

Party up.

[Enter, as to the Parliament, HENRY BOLINGBROKE,] [p]DUKE OF AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, HENRY PERCY, LORD [p]FITZWATER, DUKE OF SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, [p]the Abbot Of Westminster, and another Lord, Herald, [p]Officers, and BAGOT]
  • Henry IV. Call forth Bagot. 
    Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind; 
    What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death, 
    Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd 

    The bloody office of his timeless end.
  • Bagot. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.
  • Henry IV. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
  • Bagot. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue 
    Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd. 

    In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted, 
    I heard you say, 'Is not my arm of length, 
    That reacheth from the restful English court 
    As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?' 
    Amongst much other talk, that very time, 

    I heard you say that you had rather refuse 
    The offer of an hundred thousand crowns 
    Than Bolingbroke's return to England; 
    Adding withal how blest this land would be 
    In this your cousin's death.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Princes and noble lords, 
    What answer shall I make to this base man? 
    Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars, 
    On equal terms to give him chastisement? 
    Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd 

    With the attainder of his slanderous lips. 
    There is my gage, the manual seal of death, 
    That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest, 
    And will maintain what thou hast said is false 
    In thy heart-blood, though being all too base 

    To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
  • Henry IV. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Excepting one, I would he were the best 
    In all this presence that hath moved me so.
  • Lord Fitzwater. If that thy valour stand on sympathy, 

    There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine: 
    By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st, 
    I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spakest it 
    That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death. 
    If thou deny'st it twenty times, thou liest; 

    And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, 
    Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Thou darest not, coward, live to see that day.
  • Lord Fitzwater. Now by my soul, I would it were this hour.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true 
    In this appeal as thou art all unjust; 
    And that thou art so, there I throw my gage, 
    To prove it on thee to the extremest point 
    Of mortal breathing: seize it, if thou darest.
  • Duke of Aumerle. An if I do not, may my hands rot off 
    And never brandish more revengeful steel 
    Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
  • Lord. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle; 
    And spur thee on with full as many lies 

    As may be holloa'd in thy treacherous ear 
    From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn; 
    Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all: 
    I have a thousand spirits in one breast, 

    To answer twenty thousand such as you.
  • Duke of Surrey. My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well 
    The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
  • Lord Fitzwater. 'Tis very true: you were in presence then; 
    And you can witness with me this is true.
  • Duke of Surrey. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
  • Lord Fitzwater. Surrey, thou liest.
  • Duke of Surrey. Dishonourable boy! 
    That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, 
    That it shall render vengeance and revenge 

    Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie 
    In earth as quiet as thy father's skull: 
    In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn; 
    Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
  • Lord Fitzwater. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! 

    If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, 
    I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, 
    And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies, 
    And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, 
    To tie thee to my strong correction. 

    As I intend to thrive in this new world, 
    Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: 
    Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say 
    That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men 
    To execute the noble duke at Calais.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage 
    That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, 
    If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.
  • Henry IV. These differences shall all rest under gage 
    Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be, 

    And, though mine enemy, restored again 
    To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd, 
    Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
  • Bishop of Carlisle. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen. 
    Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought 

    For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, 
    Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross 
    Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens: 
    And toil'd with works of war, retired himself 
    To Italy; and there at Venice gave 

    His body to that pleasant country's earth, 
    And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, 
    Under whose colours he had fought so long.
  • Henry IV. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
  • Bishop of Carlisle. As surely as I live, my lord.
  • Henry IV. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom 
    Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants, 
    Your differences shall all rest under gage 
    Till we assign you to your days of trial.
[Enter DUKE OF YORK, attended]
  • Edmund of Langley. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee 
    From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul 
    Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields 
    To the possession of thy royal hand: 
    Ascend his throne, descending now from him; 

    And long live Henry, fourth of that name!
  • Henry IV. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
  • Bishop of Carlisle. Marry. God forbid! 
    Worst in this royal presence may I speak, 
    Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. 

    Would God that any in this noble presence 
    Were enough noble to be upright judge 
    Of noble Richard! then true noblesse would 
    Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. 
    What subject can give sentence on his king? 

    And who sits here that is not Richard's subject? 
    Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear, 
    Although apparent guilt be seen in them; 
    And shall the figure of God's majesty, 
    His captain, steward, deputy-elect, 

    Anointed, crowned, planted many years, 
    Be judged by subject and inferior breath, 
    And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God, 
    That in a Christian climate souls refined 
    Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! 

    I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, 
    Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king: 
    My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, 
    Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king: 
    And if you crown him, let me prophesy: 

    The blood of English shall manure the ground, 
    And future ages groan for this foul act; 
    Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, 
    And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars 
    Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound; 

    Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny 
    Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd 
    The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls. 
    O, if you raise this house against this house, 
    It will the woefullest division prove 

    That ever fell upon this cursed earth. 
    Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, 
    Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe!
  • Earl of Northumberland. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains, 
    Of capital treason we arrest you here. 

    My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge 
    To keep him safely till his day of trial. 
    May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.
  • Henry IV. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view 
    He may surrender; so we shall proceed 

    Without suspicion.
  • Edmund of Langley. I will be his conduct.
  • Henry IV. Lords, you that here are under our arrest, 
    Procure your sureties for your days of answer. 

    Little are we beholding to your love, 
    And little look'd for at your helping hands. 
    [Re-enter DUKE OF YORK, with KING RICHARD II, and] 
    Officers bearing the regalia]
  • King Richard II. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, 

    Before I have shook off the regal thoughts 
    Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd 
    To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs: 
    Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me 
    To this submission. Yet I well remember 

    The favours of these men: were they not mine? 
    Did they not sometime cry, 'all hail!' to me? 
    So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, 
    Found truth in all but one: I, in twelve thousand, none. 
    God save the king! Will no man say amen? 

    Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen. 
    God save the king! although I be not he; 
    And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me. 
    To do what service am I sent for hither?
  • Edmund of Langley. To do that office of thine own good will 

    Which tired majesty did make thee offer, 
    The resignation of thy state and crown 
    To Henry Bolingbroke.
  • King Richard II. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown; 
    Here cousin: 

    On this side my hand, and on that side yours. 
    Now is this golden crown like a deep well 
    That owes two buckets, filling one another, 
    The emptier ever dancing in the air, 
    The other down, unseen and full of water: 

    That bucket down and full of tears am I, 
    Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
  • Henry IV. I thought you had been willing to resign.
  • King Richard II. My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine: 
    You may my glories and my state depose, 

    But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
  • Henry IV. Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
  • King Richard II. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. 
    My care is loss of care, by old care done; 
    Your care is gain of care, by new care won: 

    The cares I give I have, though given away; 
    They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
  • Henry IV. Are you contented to resign the crown?
  • King Richard II. Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be; 
    Therefore no no, for I resign to thee. 

    Now mark me, how I will undo myself; 
    I give this heavy weight from off my head 
    And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand, 
    The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; 
    With mine own tears I wash away my balm, 

    With mine own hands I give away my crown, 
    With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, 
    With mine own breath release all duty's rites: 
    All pomp and majesty I do forswear; 
    My manors, rents, revenues I forego; 

    My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny: 
    God pardon all oaths that are broke to me! 
    God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee! 
    Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved, 
    And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved! 

    Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, 
    And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit! 
    God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says, 
    And send him many years of sunshine days! 
    What more remains?
  • Earl of Northumberland. No more, but that you read 
    These accusations and these grievous crimes 
    Committed by your person and your followers 
    Against the state and profit of this land; 
    That, by confessing them, the souls of men 

    May deem that you are worthily deposed.
  • King Richard II. Must I do so? and must I ravel out 
    My weaved-up folly? Gentle Northumberland, 
    If thy offences were upon record, 
    Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop 

    To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, 
    There shouldst thou find one heinous article, 
    Containing the deposing of a king 
    And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, 
    Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven: 

    Nay, all of you that stand and look upon, 
    Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, 
    Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands 
    Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates 
    Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, 

    And water cannot wash away your sin.
  • Earl of Northumberland. My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles.
  • King Richard II. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: 
    And yet salt water blinds them not so much 
    But they can see a sort of traitors here. 

    Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, 
    I find myself a traitor with the rest; 
    For I have given here my soul's consent 
    To undeck the pompous body of a king; 
    Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, 

    Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
  • Earl of Northumberland. My lord,—
  • King Richard II. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, 
    Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title, 
    No, not that name was given me at the font, 

    But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day, 
    That I have worn so many winters out, 
    And know not now what name to call myself! 
    O that I were a mockery king of snow, 
    Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, 

    To melt myself away in water-drops! 
    Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, 
    An if my word be sterling yet in England, 
    Let it command a mirror hither straight, 
    That it may show me what a face I have, 

    Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
  • Henry IV. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
[Exit an attendant]
  • Earl of Northumberland. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
  • King Richard II. Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell!
  • Henry IV. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
  • Earl of Northumberland. The commons will not then be satisfied.
  • King Richard II. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough, 
    When I do see the very book indeed 
    Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. 

    [Re-enter Attendant, with a glass] 
    Give me the glass, and therein will I read. 
    No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck 
    So many blows upon this face of mine, 
    And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass, 

    Like to my followers in prosperity, 
    Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face 
    That every day under his household roof 
    Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face 
    That, like the sun, did make beholders wink? 

    Was this the face that faced so many follies, 
    And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke? 
    A brittle glory shineth in this face: 
    As brittle as the glory is the face; 
    [Dashes the glass against the ground] 

    For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers. 
    Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, 
    How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.
  • Henry IV. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd 
    The shadow or your face.
  • King Richard II. Say that again. 
    The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see: 
    'Tis very true, my grief lies all within; 
    And these external manners of laments 
    Are merely shadows to the unseen grief 

    That swells with silence in the tortured soul; 
    There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king, 
    For thy great bounty, that not only givest 
    Me cause to wail but teachest me the way 
    How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, 

    And then be gone and trouble you no more. 
    Shall I obtain it?
  • Henry IV. Name it, fair cousin.
  • King Richard II. 'Fair cousin'? I am greater than a king: 
    For when I was a king, my flatterers 

    Were then but subjects; being now a subject, 
    I have a king here to my flatterer. 
    Being so great, I have no need to beg.
  • Henry IV. Yet ask.
  • King Richard II. And shall I have?
  • Henry IV. You shall.
  • King Richard II. Then give me leave to go.
  • Henry IV. Whither?
  • King Richard II. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
  • Henry IV. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.
  • King Richard II. O, good! convey? conveyers are you all, 
    That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
[Exeunt KING RICHARD II, some Lords, and a Guard]
  • Henry IV. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down 
    Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. 

    [Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot] 
    of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE]
  • Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
  • Bishop of Carlisle. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn. 
    Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
  • Duke of Aumerle. You holy clergymen, is there no plot 
    To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
  • Abbot. My lord, 
    Before I freely speak my mind herein, 
    You shall not only take the sacrament 

    To bury mine intents, but also to effect 
    Whatever I shall happen to devise. 
    I see your brows are full of discontent, 
    Your hearts of sorrow and your eyes of tears: 
    Come home with me to supper; and I'll lay 

    A plot shall show us all a merry day.