YORK What news from Oxford, do these jousts and triumphs hold?
AUMERLE For aught I know, my lord, they do.
YORK You will be there, I know.
AUMERLE If God prevent it not, I purpose so.
YORK What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom?
Yea, look’st thou pale? Let me see the writing.
AUMERLE My lord, ’tis nothing.
YORK No matter then who see it.
I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing.
AUMERLE I do beseech your grace to pardon me,
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
YORK Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. (5.2.52-63)
York’s moving the conversation on to safer ground, as he thinks: what news from Oxford, is everything still going ahead with the jousts and triumphs? Yeah, so far as I know. (Sulky teen.) You will be there, I know, having fun with all your friends, despite—everything (implicit.) I guess. If God prevent it not, I purpose so, yeah, that’s my plan, if everything works out. It’s just a little uneasy; Aumerle’s been being casual, a bit dismissive, non-committal, but if God prevent it not—why should divine intervention play a part in whether a tournament goes ahead or not, and whether or not Aumerle decides to show up?
This next bit’s somewhat silly but, however implausible in its details (and it’s taken from Holinshed), it speaks to York’s instincts as a great survivor, alert and sensitive. Aumerle has some kind of paper stuffed into his doublet or coat, or even inside his shirt, in his bosom, and there’s a seal hanging out. (Not that kind of seal.) (Does Aumerle secretly want it to be discovered, or is he just really rubbish at trade craft?) Seal is odd, because it suggests the kind of document that would have a braided tag on it or at least a strip of parchment attached, as well as a seal, a legal document, a contract, a bill—not a letter, that is, on which a seal would be far less likely to be attached in a way that would enable it to hang out. (I may be overthinking this.) Does Aumerle start, try to conceal it with an adjustment of his clothing, a movement of his arm? Yea, look’st thou pale? Immediately his father knows that something’s up. Let me see the writing.
Rookie error, Aumerle, to say that ’tis nothing, because York has an immediate comeback: well, if it’s nothing, no matter then who see it. You can show me, can’t you, if it’s nothing? Implied reluctance from Aumerle, moving away, concealing it further, but York’s not going to be frustrated: I will be satisfied. Let me see the writing. A final attempt at deflection from Aumerle, perhaps feigning embarrassment, being extra polite and formal: I do beseech your grace to pardon me, it is a matter of small consequence—really not a big deal, not important at all—which for some reasons I would not have seen. I just don’t want to show you, because reasons. York is undeterred, forcefully echoing Aumerle’s rather weak argument: which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see; two can play at this game, boy, you call me your grace, I’ll call you sir, you have your reasons and I have mine.
