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Ross. It stands your grace upon, to do him right. (Since presently yonr souls must part your bodies,)
York. My lords of England, let me tell you this : For 'twere no charity: yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here, in the view of men,
I will unfold some causes of your death. But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
You have, in manner, with your sinful hours,'
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
And stain’d the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms; Near to the king in blood and near in love,
Till you did make him misinterpret me,
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries, But, if I could, by him that gave me life,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds, I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Eating the bitter bread of banishment: Unto the sovereign mercy of the king.
Whilst you have fed upon my signories, But, since I cannot, beit known to you,
Dispark'd my parks, and felld my forest woods, I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well,
From my own windows torn my household coat, Unless you please to enter in the castle,
Raz’d out my impress, leaving me no sign,
Save men's opinions, and my living blood,
This, and much more, much more, than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death.--See them deliver'd over By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
To execution and the hand of death! The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to me, Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away. Than Bolingbroke to England. - Lords, farewell! York. It may be, I will you: but yet I'll Green. My comfort is, that heaven will take our pause;
souls, For I am loath to break our country's laws.
And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
(Exeunt Northumberland and others, with
Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house.
For heaven's sake, fairly let her be entreated!
Takespecial care my greetings be deliver'd !
York. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
To fight with Glendower and his complices!
Awhile to work, and, after, holiday !
Bishop of Carlislf., AUMENLE, und Soldiers.
Aum. Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air,
K. Rich. Needs must Ilikeit well; I weep forjoy,
To stand upon my kingdom once again.
Sal. Ah, Richard ! with the eyes of heavy mind, Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting,
So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favour with my royal hands. Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, Witnessing storms to come, woe, andunrest. Nor with thy sweets comfort his rav'nous sense! Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes,
But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet,
Which with usurping steps do trample thee!
And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords ! Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls
This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
No But NO Ca TH TO F T G А. W
S Th An On Ha 0,
Prore armed soldiers, ere her native king
Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him. Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my hcart prepar'd: Bishop. Fear not, my lord! That Power, that made The worst is worldly loss, thou canst unfold.
Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care ;
And what loss is it, to be rid of care?
Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so : The proffer'd means of succour and redress.
Revolt our subjects ? that we cannot mend; Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss, They break their faith to God, as well as us, Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
Cry woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay: Grows strong and great in substance and in friends. The worst is-death, and death will have his day.
K. Rich. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not, Scroop. Glad am I, that your highness is so arm’d That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
To bear the tidings of calamity. Behind the globe, and lights the lower world, Like an unseasonable stormy day, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores, In murders, and in outrage, bloody here ;
As if the world were all dissolv'd to tears, But when, from under this terrestrial ball,
So high above his limits swells the rage He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land And darts his light through every guilty hole, With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel. Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
White beards have arm'd their thin and hairless The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, scalps Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves ? Against thy majesty; boys with women's voices So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints Who all this while hath revell’d in the night, In stiil unwieldy arms against thy crown: Whilst we were wand'ring with the antipodes, Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows Shall see us rising in our throne the east,
Of double-fatal yew against thy state; His treason will sit blushing in his face,
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills Not able to endure the sight of day,
Against thy seat; both young and old rebel, But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
And all goes worse, than I have power to tell. Not all the water in the rough rude sea
K. Rich. Too well, too well, thou tell’st a tale so ill. Can wash the balm from an anointed king;
Where is the earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot? The breath of worldly men cannot depose
What is become of Bushy? Where is Green? The deputy elected by the Lord.
That they have let the dangerons enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
I warrant, they have made peace with Bolingbroke. A glorious angel; then, if angels fight,
Scroop. Peace have they made with him, indeed, Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.
my lord. Enter SALISBURY.
K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemWelcome, my lord !- How far off lies your power? ption !
Sal. Nor near, nor further off, my gracious lord, Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
Three Judasses, each one thrice worse, than Judas ! One day too late, I fear, my noble lord,
Would they make peace? terrible hell make war Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth!
Upon their spotted souls for this offence! 0, call back yesterday, bid timereturn,
Scroop. Sweet love, I see, changing his property, And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate. To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
Again uncurse their souls! their peace is made O’erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; With heads, and not with hands: those, whom you For all the Welhsmen, hearing thou wert dead,
curse, Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers’d, and fled. Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound,
Aum. Comfort, my liege! why looks your grace so And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground. pale?
Aum. Is Bushy, Green, and the earl of Wiltshire, K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty thousand dead ?
Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their heads. Did triumphin my face, and they are fled;
Aum. Where is the duke my father with his power? And, till so much blood thither come again,
K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man Have not I reason to look pale and dead?
speak! All souls, that will be safe, fly from my side;
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs, For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Aum. Comfort, my liege, remember who you are! Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth! K. Rich. I had forgot myself: am I not king? Let's choose execntors, and talk of wills : Awake, thou sluggard majesty! thou sleep'st. And yet not so,-for what can we bequeath, Is not the king's name forty thousand names? Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes
Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, At thy great glory.-Look not to the ground, And nothing can we call our own, but death, Ye favourites of a king! Are we not high?
And that small model of the barren earth,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:-
How some have been depos’d, some slain in war, Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege, Some haunted by the ghosts, they have deposid,
To pay If web That he
Havet And we Tet ku
Shal Cha To
some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd, With some few private friends, upon this coast. All murder'd; for within the hollow crown, North. The news is very fair and good, my lord; That rounds the mortal temple of a king,
Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head. Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits, York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland, Scofling his state, and grinning at his pomp,
To say: king Richard. — Alack the heavy day,
When such a sacred king should hide his head!
Left I his title out.
York. The time hath been,
Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
Lest you mis-take! The heavens are o'er your head.
Well, Harry; what, will not this castle yield? Cur. My lord, ' wise men ne'er wail their present Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, woes,
Against thy entrance.
It doth contain a king : king Richard lies
Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him, Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
North. Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle,
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
Provided that, my banishment repeal'd, My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
And lands restor'd again, be freely granted.
If not, I'll use the advantage of my power,
The which how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench Upon his party.
The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land, K. Rich. Thou hast said enough.
My stooping duty tenderly shall show. Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth Go, signify as much, while here we march
(To Aumerle. Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.—, of that sweet way, I was in to despair!
[Northumberland advances to the castle with What say you now? What comfort have we now?
a trumpet. By heaven, l'll hate him everlastingly,
Let's march without the noise of threatning drum, That bids me be of comfort any more.
That from the castle's totter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perus’d.
of fire and water, when their thund’ring shock Let no man speak again At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. To alter this; for counsel is but vain.
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water: Aum. My liege, one word!
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
[Exeunt. chard, the Bishop of Carlisle,Aumerle,Scroop,and
ces; YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Others. From out the fiery portal of the east,
When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent
To dim his glory, and to stain the track Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed, of his bright passage to the occident.
Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
On yon proud man, should take it off again Controlling majesty! Alack, alack, for woe, With words of sooth! O, that I were as great, That any harm should stain so fair a show!
As is my grief, or lesser, than my name! K. Rich. We are amaz’d; and thus long have we Or that I could forget, what I have been! stood
Or not remember, what I must be now ! To watch the fearful bending of thy knee. Swell'st thou,proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
[To Northumberland. Since foes have scope to beat both thee and mc. Because we thought ourself thy lawful king : Aum. Northumberland comes back from BolingAnd if we be, how dare thy joints forget
broke. Το pay their awful duty to our presence?
K. Rich, What must the king do now? Muist lie If we be not, show us the hand of God,
submit? That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship! The king shall do it. Must he be depos’d ? For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
The king shall be contented. Must he lose Can gripe the sacred handle of our scepter, The name of king? o'God's name, let it go! Unless ħe do profane, steal, or usurp.
I'll give my jewels, for a set of beads; And though you think, that all, as you have done, My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage; Have torn their souls, by turning them from us, My gay apparel, for an alms-man's gown; And we are barren, and bereft of friends;
My figur'd goblets, for a dish of wood; Yet know, my master, God omnipotent,
My scepter, for a palmer's walking-stafl; Is must'ring in his clouds, on our behalf,
My subjects, for a pair of carved saints ; Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
And my large kingdom, for
little grave, Your children yet unborn, and unbegot,
A little little grave, an obscure grave :That lift your vassal hands against my head, Or I'll be buried in the king's highway, And thread the glory of my precious crown. Some' way of common trade, where subjects' feet Tell Bolingbroke, ( for yond, methinks, he is,) May hourly trample on their sovereign's head: That every stride, he makes upon my land, For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live; Is dangerous treason. He is come to ope
And, buried once, why not upon my head ? -The purple testament of bleeding war;
Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin ! But ere the crown, he looks for, live in peace, We'll make foul weather with despised tears ; Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the summer corn, Shall ill become the flower of England's face, And make a dearth in this revolting land. Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace Or shall we play the wantons with our woes, To scarlet indignation, and bedew
And make some pretty match with shedding tears? Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. As thus: to drop them still upon one place,
North. The king of heaven forbid, our lord the king Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Within the earth, and, therein laid, — Therein lies Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice-noble cousin,
Two kinsmen, digg'd their graves with weeping Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand,
eyes? And by the honourable tomb he swears,
Would not this ill do well?— Well, well, I see, That stands upon thy royal grandsire's bones, I talk bud idly, and you mock at me. And by the royalties of both your bloods,
Most mighty prince, my lord Northumberland, Currents, that spring from one most gracious head, What says king Bolingbroke? will his majesty And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
Give Richard leave to live, till Richard die? And by the worth and honour of himself,
You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says-ay. Comprising all, that may be sworn or said: North. My lord, in the base court he doth attend His coming hither hath no further
To speak with you ; may't please you to come down? Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering Enfranchisement immediate on his knees.
Phaeton, Which on thy royal party granted once,
Wanting the manage of unruly jades. His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
[Vorth. retires to Boling. His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
In the base court ? Base court, where kings grow base, To faithful service of your majesty.
To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace. This swears he, as he is a prince, is just :
In the base court? Come down? Down court! down And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
king! K. Rich. Northumberland, say, thus the king For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks should returns:
sing. His noble cousin is right welcome hither,
(Exeunt, froin ubore.
Boling. What says his majesty ?
North. Sorrow and grief of heart
Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man :
Yet he is come
Enter King Richard, and his Attendants, below.
Boling. Stand all a part, To look so poorly, and to speak so fair?
(To Aumerle. And show fair duty to his majesty!-Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
My gracious lord,
(Kneeling. Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee,
To make the base earth proud with kissing it : Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle Me rather had, my heart might feel your love,
words, Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy. swords. K. Rich. O God! O God! that e'er this tongue of
Thus high at least, (touching his own head. ) al
though your knee be low. mine,
Boling. Ny gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
Now. What Who The bl Bago Bolin Bago. Scorns In that
What Shall On ec Eithe With Ther That And
K. Rich. Your own is yours and I am yours, and all. Hath new himself met with the fall of leaf.
I mean, the earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land,
Had he done so to great and growing men,
Enter the Queen, and two Ladies. We lop away, that bearing boughs may live. Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, garden,
Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. To drive away the heavy thought of care?
1 Serv. What, think you then, the king shall be 1 Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls.
depos’d? Queen. 'Twill make me think,
Gard. Depress’d he is already ; and depos’d, The world is full of rubs, and that my fortune 'Tis doubt, he will be. Letters came last night Runs 'gainst the bias.
To a dear friend of the good duke of York's, 1 Lady. Madam, we will dance.
That tell black tidings.
Thou, old Adam's
(Coming from her concealment. 1 Lady. Madam, we'll tell tales.
Set to dress this garden, how dares Queen. Of sorrow, or of joy?
Thy harsh-rude tongue sound this unpleasing news? 1 Lady. Of either, madam.
What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee Queen. Of neither, girl!
To make a second fall of cursed man? For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
Why dost thou say, king Richard is depos’d? It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
Dar'st thou, thou little better thing, than earth, Or if of grief, being altogether had,
Divine his downfal ? Say, where, when, and how, It adds more sorrow to my want of joy.
Cam’st thou by these ill tidings? speak, thouwretch ! For what I have, I need not to repeat,
Gard. Pardon me, madam ! little joy have I, And what I want, it boots not to complain.
To breathe this news; yet, what I
is true. 1 Lady. Madam, I'll sing.
King Richard, he is in the mighty holu Queen. 'Tis well, that thou hast cause;
of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh’d. But thou should'st please me better, would'st thou In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, weep.
And some few vanities, that make him light; 1 Lady. I could weep, madam, wouldit do you good. But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, Queen.And I could weep, would weeping do me good, Besides himself, are all the English peers, And never borrow any tear of thee.
And with that odds he weighs king Richard down. But stay, here come the gardeners :
Post you to London, and you'll find it so;
I speak no more, than every one doth know.
Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
[Queen and Ladies retire. Thy sorrow in my breast.-Come, ladies, go,
I would, the plants thou graft'st, may never grow.
[Lxeunt Oileen and Ladies. That look too lofty in the commonwealth! Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be po All must be even in our government.
worse, You thus employ'd, I will go root away
I would, my skill were subject to thy curse.
In the remembrance of a weeping queen. (Exeunt.
The Lords spiritual on the right side of the throne; Gard. Hold thy peace!
the Lords temporal on the left; the Coinmons below. He, that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring,
Enter BeLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, Surrey, NOTHUMBER-