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.
God save the king! Will no one say amen? Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, amen. God save the king! although I am not him; And yet, amen, if heaven thinks I am him.
King Richard II · Act 4, Scene 1
Richard, now officially deposed, stands in Westminster Hall and blesses his own replacement king, speaking the liturgy that traditionally binds a kingdom to its monarch. The line is both comic and tragic: Richard is so detached from reality that he plays both priest and congregation, blessing a man who has taken his throne while asking if heaven will accept that substitution.
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.
If your courage depends on sympathy, Here’s my challenge, Aumerle, in exchange for yours: By that bright sun that shows me where you stand, I heard you say, and you said it proudly, That you were the cause of noble Gloucester’s death. If you deny it twenty times, you’re lying; And I’ll prove your lies on your heart, Where they were made, with the point of my sword.
Lord Fitzwater · Act 4, Scene 1
Lord Fitzwater throws down his glove and accuses Aumerle of engineering Gloucester's death, and swears he heard Aumerle boast of it. The line persists because it introduces the farcical proliferation of accusations and challenges that follow—in the parliament scene, honor becomes a kind of currency that loses value through inflation. Each new gage thrown down makes the claims seem less serious, not more.
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!
No! God forbid! The worst thing I could say here But the truest thing I must say. I wish that someone in this noble group Were noble enough to be a fair judge Of noble Richard! then true nobility would Teach him to forgive such a horrible wrong. What subject can judge his king? And who here is not Richard’s subject? Thieves are judged by their peers, Even when their guilt is clear; And should the image of God’s majesty, His leader, steward, and chosen deputy, Anointed, crowned, and in power for many years, Be judged by mere subjects and lesser people, And without even being present himself? Oh, may God prevent it, That in a Christian world, refined souls Would commit such a wicked, disgraceful act! I speak as a subject, and as a subject, I speak, Moved by God, boldly standing for my king: My Lord of Hereford, whom you call king, Is a treacherous traitor to the true king: And if you crown him, let me prophesy: The blood of Englishmen will flood the ground, And future generations will lament this act; Peace will join forces with the Turks and infidels, And in this peaceful land, violent wars Will tear family from family, and kin from kin; Chaos, fear, and rebellion Will take root here, and this land will be known As a place of death, full of skulls and bones. Oh, if you set one house against another, It will cause the worst division This cursed earth has ever seen. Stop it, fight it, don’t let it happen, Or children, and their children, will cry out against you!
Bishop of Carlisle · Act 4, Scene 1
The Bishop of Carlisle stands alone in Westminster Hall and refuses to let Bolingbroke's coronation pass without speaking the truth about what it means. This speech endures because it names the crime plainly—a subject judging his anointed king—and warns that usurpation will poison the land for generations. Carlisle sees what others refuse to see: that breaking the sacred chain of succession unleashes chaos that no man can control.
