no worse,

I would, my skill were subject to thy curse.➡
Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place,
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace;
Rue, even for ruth,' here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

ACT IV.

man.

Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring
tongue

Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd.
In that dead time when Gloster's death was plotted,
I heard you say,-Is not my arm of length,
That reacheth from the restful English court
As far as Calais, to my uncle's head?
Amongst much other talk, that very time,
I heard you say, that you had rather rese
The offer of a hundred thousand crowns,
Than Bolingbroke's return to England
Adding withal, how blest this land would be,
In this your cousin's death.

Aum.
Princes, and noble lords,
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars,
On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
With the attainder of his sland'rous lips.-
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest,
And will maintain, what thou hast said, is false,
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
Boling. Bagot, forbear, thou shalt not take it up.
Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence, that hath mov'd me so.

Filz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine: By that fair sun that shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster'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. Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day.

(1) Pity. (2) Untimely.

Percy. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true, And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage, To prove it on thee, to the extremest point Of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou dar'st. Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off, And never brandish more revengeful steel Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

Lord. I take the earth to the like, forsworn
Aumerle;

And spur thee on with fu!! as many lies
As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.

Aum. Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all:

To answer twenty thousand such as you.
I have a thousand spirits in one breast,

The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
Surrey. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
Fitz. My lord, 'tis true: you were in presence
And you can witness with me, this is true.
then;
Surrey. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is
trae.

Fitz. Surrey, thou liest. Surrey.

Dishonourable boy! That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, That it shall render vengeance and revenge, Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie In earth as quiet as thy father's scull. In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.

Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies, And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say, That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais.

Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage,

That Norfolk'lies: here do I throw down this,
If he may be repeal'd to try his honour.

Boling. These differences shall all rest under

gage,

throne.

Car. 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 nobless 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 judg'd, 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, crown'd, planted many years,
Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God,
That, in a Christian climate, souls refin'd
Shou'd show so heinous, black, ob cene a deed!
I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
Stirr'd up by heaven 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 muting,
Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
The field of Golgotha, and dead men's sculls.
O, if you rear this house against this house,
It will the wofullest division prove,
That ever fell upon this cursed earth:
Prevent, resist it, let it not be so,

Lest child, child's children, cry against you-wo! North. Well have you argu'd, sir; and, for your pains,

Of capital treason we arrest you here:-
My lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.-
May't please you, lords, to grant the commors' suit.
Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common

view

He may surrender: so we shall proceed
Without suspicion.
York.
I will be his conduct. [Exit.
Boling. Lords, you that are here under our ar-
rest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer :-
Little are we beholden to your love, [To Carlisle.
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
Re-enter York, with King Richard, and officers
bearing the crown, &c.

K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee :Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me

To this submission. Yet I well remember

The favours of these men: Were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me?
So Judas did to Christ: but he,,in twelve
Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand,

none.

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.-
To do what service am I sent or h.ther?

York. To do that office, of thine own good will,
Which tired majesty did make thee offer,-
The resignation of thy state and crown
To Henry Bolingbroke.

K. Rich. Give me the crown:-Here, cousin, seize the crown;

Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, thine.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well,
That owes two buckets filling one another;
The emptier ever dancing in the air,

The other down, unseen, and full of water:
That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign.
K. Rich. My crown, I am; but still my griefs

are mine:

You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my grief's; still am I king of those.
Boling. Part of your cares you give me with
your crown.

K. Rich. Your cares set up, do not pluck my cares down.

My care is-loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is-gain of care, by new care won:
The cares I give, I have, though given away;
They tends the crown, yet still with me they stay.

Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown?
K. Rich. Ay, no; no, ay;-for I must nothing be;
Therefore, no no, for I resign to thee.
Now mark me how I will undo myself:-
I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldly sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,*
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duteous oaths:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny:
God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!
God keep all vows unbroke, are made to thee!
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd;
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all achiev'd!
Long may'st thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit!
God save king Henry, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine days!-
What more remains?
North.
No more, but that you read
[Offering a paper.
These accusations, and these grievous crimes,
Committed by your person, and your followers,
Against the late and profit of this land;
That, by confessing them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily depos'd.

K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, If thy offences were upon record,

Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop,
To read a lecture of them? If thou would'st,
There should'st thou find one heinous article,-

And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.
Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand;
Thou map' of honour; thou king Richard's tomb,
And not king Richard; thou most beauteous inn,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
When triumph is become an ale-house guest?
K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do
not so,

To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul,
To think our former state a happy dream;
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim necessity; and he and I

Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
And cloister thee in some religious house:
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
Which our profane hours here have stricken down.
Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and
mind

Transform'd and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke
Depos'd thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly? kiss the rod;
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion, and a king of beasts?

A two-fold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me;
And then, betwixt me and my married wife.-
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.-
Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
My wife to France; from whence, set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas, or short'st of day.
Queen. And must we be divided? must we part?
K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and
heart from heart.

Queen. Banish us both, and send the king with me.
North. That were some love, but little policy.
Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one wo.
Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off, than-near, be ne'er the near'.'
Go, count thy way with sighs; I, mine with groans.
Queen. So longest way shall have the longest

moans.

France:

Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st,
As from my death-bed, my last living leave.
In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
Of woful ages, long ago betid: 2

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,

And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter Northumberland, attended. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd;

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.-
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.
K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder where-
withal

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,-
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption: thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm, and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all;

And he shall think, that thou, which know'st the way
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear;
That fear, to hate; and hate turns one, or both,
To worthy danger, and deserved death.

North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end. Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith. K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd ?-Bad men, ye violate

[They kiss. Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good

part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.

[Kiss again.

So, now I have mine own again, begone,
That I may strive to kill it with a groan.
K. Rich. We make wo wanton with this fond
delay:

Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. [Ext.

SCENE II.-The same. A room in the Duke of
York's palace. Enter York, and his Duchess.
Duch. My lord, you told me, you would tell the
rest,

When weeping made you break the story off,
Of our two cousins coming into London.
York. Where did I leave?
Duch.
At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude misgovern'd hands, from windows' tops,
Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head.
York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Boling-
broke,-

Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,
Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,-
With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course,
While all tongues cried-God save thee, Boling-
broke!

You would have thought the very windows spake,
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage; and that all the walls,
With painted imagery, had said at once,-
Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus, I thank you, countrymen:
And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the while?

York. As, in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,

(5) Never the nigher.

(6) Tapestry hung from the windows