Mowbray; so art thou. Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. 

 MOWBRAY. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais Disbursed I duly to his highness’ soldiers; The other part reserved I by consent, For that my sovereign liege was in my debt Upon remainder of a dear account Since last I went to France to fetch his queen. Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester’s death, I slew him not, but to my own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case. For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay an ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul; But ere I last received the sacrament I did confess it and exactly begged Your Grace’s pardon, and I hope I had it. This is my fault. As for the rest appealed, It issues from the rancour of a villain, A recreant and most degenerate traitor, Which in myself I boldly will defend, And interchangeably hurl down my gage Upon this overweening traitor’s foot, To prove myself a loyal gentleman Even in the best blood chambered in his bosom. In haste whereof most heartily I pray Your highness to assign our trial day. 

 KING RICHARD. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me. Let’s purge this choler without letting blood. This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision. Forget, forgive, conclude and be agreed; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. Good uncle, let this end where it begun; We’ll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. 

 GAUNT. To be a make-peace shall become my age. Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk’s gage. 

 KING RICHARD. And, Norfolk, throw down his. 

 GAUNT. When, Harry, when? Obedience bids I should not bid again. 

 KING RICHARD. Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. 

 MOWBRAY. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame. The one my duty owes; but my fair name, Despite of death that lives upon my grave, To dark dishonour’s use thou shalt not have. I am disgraced, impeached, and baffled here, Pierced to the soul with slander’s venomed spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison. 

 KING RICHARD. Rage must be withstood. Give me his gage. Lions make leopards tame. 

 MOWBRAY. Yea, but not change his 

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