_York._ So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; And he shall spend mine honour with his shame, As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, 70 Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies: Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath, The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. _Duch._ [_Within_] What ho, my liege! for God's sake, let me in.[1838] _Boling._ What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry.[1839] 75 _Duch._ A woman, and thy aunt, great king; 'tis I.[1840] Speak with me, pity me, open the door: A beggar begs that never begg'd before. _Boling._ Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing,[1841][1842] And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King.'[1841][1842] 80 My dangerous cousin, let your mother in: I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.[1843] _York._ If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.[1844] This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound;[1845] 85 This let alone will all the rest confound. _Enter_ DUCHESS. _Duch._ O king, believe not this hard-hearted man![1846] Love loving not itself none other can. _York._ Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?[1847] Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? 90 _Duch._ Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege. [_Kneels._ _Boling._ Rise up, good aunt. _Duch._ Not yet, I thee beseech: For ever will I walk upon my knees,[1848] And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,[1849] 95 By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. _Aum._ Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. _York._ Against them both my true joints bended be. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace![1850] _Duch._ Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; 100 His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;[1851] His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast:[1852] 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; 105 Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow:[1853] His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have[1854] That mercy which true prayer ought to have.[1855] 110 _Boling._ Good aunt, stand up.[1856]