Duchess

 YORK. If thou do pardon whosoever pray, More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. This festered joint cut off, the rest rest sound; This let alone will all the rest confound. 

 DUCHESS. O King, believe not this hard-hearted man. Love loving not itself none other can. 

 YORK. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? 

 DUCHESS. Sweet York, be patient. [Kneels.] Hear me, gentle liege. 

 KING HENRY. Rise up, good aunt. 

 DUCHESS. Not yet, I thee beseech. For ever will I walk upon my knees And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy, until thou bid me joy By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. 

 AUMERLE. Unto my mother’s prayers I bend my knee. 

 [Kneels.]

 YORK. Against them both, my true joints bended be. 

 [Kneels.]

 Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace!

 DUCHESS. Pleads he in earnest? Look upon his face. His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast. He prays but faintly and would be denied; We pray with heart and soul and all beside: His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Our knees still kneel till to the ground they grow. His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. Our prayers do outpray his; then let them have That mercy which true prayer ought to have. 

 KING HENRY. Good aunt, stand up. 

 DUCHESS. Nay, do not say “stand up”. Say “pardon” first, and afterwards “stand up”. An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, “Pardon” should be the first word of thy speech. I never longed to hear a word till now. Say “pardon,” king; let pity teach thee how. The word is short, but not so short as sweet; No word like “pardon” for kings’ mouths so meet. 

 YORK. Speak it in French, King, say “pardonne moy.” 

 DUCHESS. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? Ah! my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, That sets 

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