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It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster, But we must win your grace, to go with us
York. It may be, I will go with you:
Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are : What would you have me do? I am a subject, Things past redress, are now with me past care. And challenge law : Attornies are denied me;
[Ereunt. And therefore personally I lay my claim
SCENE IV. A Camp in Wales.
Enter SALISBURY, and a Captain.
And yet we hear no tidings from the king : York. My lords of England, let me tell you this - Therefore we will disperse ourselves : farewell. I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs,
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman ; And labour'd all I could to do him right:
The king reposeth all his confidence But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
In thee. Be his own carver, and cut out his way,
Capt. 'Tis thought the king is dead; we will not To find out right with wrong, it may not be ;
stay. And you, that do abet him in this kind,
The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; North. The noble duke hath sworn, his coming is The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, But for his own: and, for the right of that, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change ; We all have strongly sworn to give him aid; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap, -And let him ne'er see joy, that breaks that oath. The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy,
York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms; The other, to enjoy by rage and war: I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. Because my power is weak, and all ill left: Farewell : our countrymen are gone and fled, But, if I could, by him that gave me life,
As well assur’d, Richard their king is dead. (Eitt. I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Sal. Ah, Richard ! with the eyes of heavy mind, Unto the sovereign mercy of the king ;
1 see thy glory, like a shooting star, But, since I cannot, be it known to you,
Fall to the base earth from the firmament ! I do remain as neuter. So fare you well ; - Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, Cnless you please to enter in the castle,
Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest : And there repose you for this night.
Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes ; Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept. And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. (Erit.
SCENE I. – Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol. Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
Till you did make him misinterpret me, Enter BOLINGBROKE, York, NORTHUMBERLAND, Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
Percy, WILLOUGHBY, Ross : Officers behind with And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds, Busøy and GREEN, prisoners.
Eating the bitter bread of banishment : Boling. Bring forth these men.
Whilst you have fed upon my seignories, Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls Dispark'd my parks, and fell’d my forest woods ; (Since presently your souls must part your bodies,) From my own windows torn my household coat, With too much urging your pernicious lives, Raz'd out my impress, leaving me no sign,For 'twere no charity : yet, to wash your blood Save men's opinions, and my living blood, From off my hands, here in the view of men, To show the world I am a gentleman. I will unfold some causes of your death.
This, and much more, much more than twice all this, You have misled a prince, a royal king,
Condemns you to the death:- See them deliver'd over A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments, To execution and the hand of death. By you unhappied and disfigur'd clean.?
Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to me, You have, in manner, with your sinful hours, Than Bolingbroke to England. Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him ;
Green. My comfort is, — that heaven will take Proke the possession of a royal bed,
our souls, And staind the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks And plague injustice. With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. Boling. My lord Northumberland, see them deMyself - a prince, by fortune of my birth;
(Ereunt NORTHUMBERLAND and others, * The persons who wrong him.
with Prisoners. Poxxxsjon of my land, &c. 6 It is your interest. Completely,
Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house;
For heaven's sake, fairly let her be entreated : The breath of worldly men cannot depose
York. A gentleman of mine I have despatch'd To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown With letters of your love to her at large.
God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.—Come, lords away; A glorious angel : then, if angels fight, i To fight with Glendower and his complices; Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right. A while to work, and, after, holiday. [Ereunt.
Welcome, my lord; How far off lies your power? SCENE II.—The Coast of Wales. A Caslle in view.
Sal. Nor near, nor further off, my gracious lord, Flourish : Drums and Trumpets. Enter King | Than this weak arm : Discomfort guides my tongue,
Richard, Bishop of Carlisle, AUMERLE, and And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
One day too late, I fear, my noble lord,
Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace the air, o, call back yesterday, bid time return,
And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men! K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep for joy, To-day, to-day, unhappy day too late, To stand upon my kingdom once again.
O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs: Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled. As a long parted mother with her child
Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting;
so pale ? So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
K. Rich. But now the blood of twenty thousand men And do thee favour with my royal hands.
Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
And till so much blood thither come again,
Have I not reason to look pale and dead ?
All souls that will be safe fly from my side; And heavy gaited toads, lie in their way;
For time hath set a blot upon my pride. Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet,
Aum. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are. Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
K. Rich. I had forgot myself: am I not hing? Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies :
Awake thou sluggard majesty! thou sleep'st. And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
Is not the king's name forty thousand names? Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder; Arm, arm, my name, a puny subject strikes Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
At thy great glory. - Look not to the ground, Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
Ye favourites of a king; Are we not high? Mock not, my senseless conjuration, lords; High be our thoughts; I know my uncle York This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
Comes here? Shall falter under foul rebellious arms.
Enter Scroop. Car. Fear not, my lord ; that Power, that made Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege,
Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him. Hath power to keep you king, in spite of all.
K. Rich. Mine ear is open and my heart prepar'd; The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd, The worst is worldly loss, thou canst unfold. And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care; And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse;
And what loss is it, to be rid of care ? The proffer'd means of succour and redress.
Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; Greater he shall not be; if he serve God, Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so:
K. Rich. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not, They break their faith to God, as well as us :
To bear the tidings of calamity.
Like an unseasonable stormy day, He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines, Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores, And darts his light through every guilty hole,
As if the world were all dissolv'd to tears; Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
So high above his limits swells the rage The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves ? With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel. So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke, White beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps Who all this while hath revell'd in the night, Against thy majesty ; boys, with women's voices, Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes, Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints Shall see us rising in our throne the east,
In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown: His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows Not able to endure the sight of day,
or double-fatal yew against thy state; But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Against thy seat: both young and old rebel, Can wash the balm from an anointed king:
And all goes worse than I have power to tell,
K. Rich. Too well, too well, thou tell'st a tale so ill. K. Rich. Thou chidst me well : - Proud BolingWhere is the earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
broke, I come What is become of Bushy? where is Green ? To change blows with thee for our day of doom. That they have let the dangerous enemy
This ague-fit of fear is overblown; Measure our confines with such peaceful steps ? An easy task it is to win our own. If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power? I warrant, they have made peace with Bolingbroke. Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour. Scroop. Peace have they made with him, indeed, Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
The state and inclination of the day: K. Rich. O villains, vipers, lost without redemption! So may you by my dull and heavy eye, Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say. Snakes, in my heart-blood warm’d, that sting my I play the torturer, by small and small, heart !
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken : Scroop. Sweet love, I see changing his property, Your uncle York hath join'd with Bolingbroke; Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate :
And all your northern castles yielded up, Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made And all your southern gentlemen in arms With heads, and not with hands : those whom you | Upon his party.
K. Rich. Thou hast said enough. Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound, Beshrew thee, cousin, which did lead me forth. And lie full low, gravid in the hollow ground.
[To AUMEKLE. Aum. Is Bushy, Green, and the earl of Wiltshire of that sweet way I was in to despair ! dead?
What say you now? what comfort have we now? Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their heads. By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly, Aum. Where is the duke my father with his power? That bids me be of comfort any more. K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man Go, to Flint castle; there I'll pine away; speak :
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey. Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs ; That power I have, discharge ; and let them go Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
To ear 8 the land that hath some hope to grow, Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
For I have none: - — Let no man speak again Let's choose executors, and talk of wills :
To alter this, for counsel is but vain. And yet not so, for what can we bequeath,
Aum. My liege, one word. Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
He does me double wrong Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. And nothing can we call our own, but death ; Discharge my followers, let them hence ; And that small model of the barren earth,
From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair day. Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
[Ereunt. For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of kings :
SCENE III. — Wales. Before Flint Castle. How some have been depos'd, some slain in war;
Enter, with Drum and Colours, Boling BROKE and Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd;
Forces ; York, NORTHUMBERLAND, and others. Some poison’d by their wives, some sleeping kill'd; Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn, All murder'd: - For within the hollow crown, The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury That rounds the mortal temples of a king,
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed, Keeps death his court; and there the antick sits, With some few private friends upon this coast. Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp ; North. The news is very fair and good, my lord: Allowing him a breath, a little scene
Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head. To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks; York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland, Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
To say — king Richard: — Alack the heavy day, As if this flesh, which walls about our life,
When such a sacred king should hide his head ! Were brass impregnable ; and humour'd thus, North. Your grace mistakes me; only to be brief, Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Left I his title out. Bores through his castle wall, and - farewell king! York.
The time hath been, Cover your heads, and mock not fesh and blood Would you have been so brief with him he would With solemn reverence; throw away respect, Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
For taking so the head, your whole head's length. For you have but mistook me all this while:
Boling. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
should. Need friends : – Subjected thus,
York. Take not, good cousin, further than you How can you say to me - I am a king?
should, Car. My lord, wise men ne'er wail their present Lest you mistake : The heavens are o'er your head. woes,
Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not But presently prevent the ways to wail.
Myself against their will. But who comes here? To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Well, Harry; what, will not this castle yield ?
Yes, my good lord, Yet know, - my master, God omnipotent, It doth contain a king : king Richard lies
Is must'ring in his clouds, on our behalf, Within the limits of yon lime and stone;
Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike And with him are the lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury, Your children yet unborn, and unbegot, Sir Stephen Scroop; besides a clergyman
That lift your vassal hands against my head, Of holy reverence, who, I cannot learn.
And threat the glory of my precious crown. Norih. Belike it is the bishop of Carlisle. Tell Bolingbroke, (for yond', methinks, he is,) Boling. Noble lord,
(To North. That every stride he makes upon my land, Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle ;
Is dangerous treason: He is come to ope Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parle The purple testament of bleeding war; Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver.
But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, Harry Bolingbroke
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons On both his knees doth kiss king Richard's hand; Shall ill become the flower of England's face; And sends allegiance, and true faith of heart, Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace To his most royal person: hither come
To scarlet indignation, and bedew Even at his feet to lay my arms and power ; Her pasture's grass with faithful English blood. Provided that, my banishment repealid,
North. The king of heaven forbid, our lord the king And lands restor'd again, be freely granted : Should so with civil and uncivil arms If not, I'll use the advantage of my power, Be rush'd upon; Thy thrice-noble cousin, And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood, Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand; Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen: And by the honourable tomb he swears, The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke That stands upon thy royal grandsire's bones; It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench And by the royalties of both your bloods, The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land, Currents that spring from one most gracious head; My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
And by the buried land of warlike Gaunt; Go, signify as much ; while here we march And by the worth and honour of himself, Upon the grassy carpet of this plain. –
Comprising all that may be sworn or said, [NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the His coming hither hath no further seope,
Castle with a Trumpet. Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
Which on thy royal party granted once,
To faithful service of your majesty.
K. Rich. Northumberland, say, - thus the king The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
returns My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
His noble cousin is right welcome hither; March on, and mark king Richard how he looks. And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction : A Parle sounded, and answered by another Trumpet With all the gracious utterance thou hast,
within. Flourish. Enter on the Walls King Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, AUMERLE, We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not, Scroor, and SALISBURY.
(To AUMERLE. York. See, see, king Richard doth himself appear, To look so poorly, and to speak so fair? As doth the blushing discontented sun
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send From out the fiery portal of the east;
Defiance to the traitor, and so die? When he perceives the envious clouds are bent Aum. No, my good lord ; let's fight with gentle To dim his glory, and to stain the track
words, Of his bright passage to the occident.
Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,
swords. As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth,
K. Rich. Merciful heaven, that e'er this tongue of Controlling majesty ; Alack, alack, for woe,
mine, That any harm should stain so fair a show!
That laid the sentence of dread banishment K. Rich. We are amaz'd ; and thus long have we On yon proud man, should take it off again stood
With words of sooth ! 9 0, that I were as great To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
As is my grief, or lesser than my name ! [T, NORTHUMBERLAND. Or that I could forget what I have been ! Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
Or not remember what I must be now! And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to To pay their awful duty to our presence?
beat, If we be not, show us the hand of God
Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship; Aum. Northumberland comes back froin BolingFor well we know, no hand of blood and bone
broke. Can gripe the sacred handle of our scepter,
K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must he Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
The name of king? o'God's name, let it go : Though you are old enough to be my heir.
What you will have, I'll give, and willing too; My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage;
For do we must, what force will have us do. My gay apparel, for an alms-man's gown;
Set on towards London : Cousin, is it so ? My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood;
Boling. Yea, my good lord. My scepter, for a palmer's walking-staff;
Then I must not say, no. My subjects, for a pair of carved saints;
[Flourish. Exeunt. And my large kingdom, for a little grave,
SCENE IV. - Langley. The Duke of York's A little, little grave, an obscure grave:
Enter the QUEEN, and two Ladies.
Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live ; And, buried once, why not upon my head?
To drive away the heavy thought of care?
1 Lidy. Madam, well play at bowls.
'Twill make me think, Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the summer corn,
The world is full of rubs, and that my fortune
Runs 'gainst the bias.
Madam, we will dance. And make some pretty match with shedding tears ;
Queen. My legs can keep no measure in delight, As thus: - To drop them still upon one place, Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief :
Therefore, no dancing, girl ; some other sport.
1 Lady. Madam, we'll tell tales.
Of sorrow, or of joy ?
1 Lady. Of either, madam.
Of neither, girl ; Most mighty prince, my lord Northumberland,
For if of joy, being altogether wanting, What says king Bolingbroke? will his majesty
It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
Or if of grief, being altogether had,
It adds more sorrow to my want of joy :
And what I want, it boots not to complain. K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering
1 Lady. Madam, I'll sing. Phaeton,
'Tis well that thou hast cause ; Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou (North. retires to BOLING.
weep. In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base;
1 Lady. I could weer, madam, would it do you To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace.
good. In the base court? Come down? Down, court!
Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do me down, king! For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks should And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the gardeners :
Let's step into the shadow of these trees. North.
Sorrow and grief of heart Makes him speak fondly, like a frantick man :
Enter a Gardener, and two Servants.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
Against a change: Woe is forerun with woe.
(Queen and Ladies retire.
Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricocks, My gracious lord,
[K'neeling. K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely Which, like unruly children, make
their sire knee,
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight: To make the base earth proud with kissing it :
Give some supportance to the bending twigs. Me rather had, my heart might feel your love,
Go thou, and like an executioner, Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays, Up, cousin, up: your heart is up, I know,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth : Thus high at least, (Touching his own head.] al- All must be even in our government,
You thus employ'd, I will go root away though your knee be low. Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
The noisome weeds, that without profit suck K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
1 Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a pale, Boling. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up,
Her fruit-trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots 3 disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars ?
3 Figures planted in a box.