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What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dang’rous enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps ?
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
I warrant, they've made peace with Bolingbroke.
Scroop. Peace they have made with him, indeed, my

Lord.
K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damnd without re-

demption ! Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man! Snakes in my heart-blood warm’d, that sting my heart! Three Judasses, each one thrice worse than Judas ! Would they make peace ? terrible hell make war Upon their spotted souls for this offence !

Scroop. Sweet love, I see, changing his property, Turns to the fow'rest and most deadly hate. Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made With heads, and not with hands; those, whom you

curse, Have felt the worst of death's destroying hand, And lie full low, gravid in the hollow'd ground.

Aum. Is Busby, Green, and th’Earl of Wiltshire dead? Scroop: Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their heads. Aum. Where is the Duke my Father, with his Power?

Why, with the Loss of their have blunder'd. It seems proHeads. This being explained, bable to me that he wrote, as I Aumerle says, Is Bushy, Green, have conje&urally alter'd the and th’Earl of Wildhire dead? Text, So that Bagot ought to be left Where is the Earl of Wiltout of the Question : and, in Thire? where is he got ? deed, he had made the best of i. e. into what Corner of my his

way for Chester, and from Dominions is he flunk, and abthence had cscap'd into Ir, land sconded ?

THEOBALD. And so we find him, in the ad This emendation Dr. WarburAa, determining to do. tonadopts. Hanmer leaves a blank Bagot. No: i'll so Ireland, to after Wiltshire. I believe the aubis Majelis

thour rather than transcriber,made The Poer could not be guilty of a mistake. Where is he got docs fo much forgetfulness and 'Ab- not found in my ear like an exfurdi:y, The Transcribers met pression of Shakespeare,

K. Rich.

K. Ricb. No matter where; of comfort no man

speak; Let's talk of Graves, of Worms, and Epitaphs, Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes Write forrow on the bosom of the earth! Let's chufe executors, and talk of wills; And yet not so—for what can we bequeath, Save our deposed bodies to the ground? Our lands, our lives, and all are Boling broke's, And nothing can we call our own, but death; ? And that small model of the barren earth, 3 Which serves as paste and cover to our bones. For heav'n's fake, let us sit upon the ground, And tell sad stories of the death of Kings ; How some have been depos'd, fome flain in war; Some haunted by the Ghosts they difpoffefs'd; Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd; All murther'd. -For within the hollow Crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a King, Keeps Death his Court; and + there the Antick fits, Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pomp; Allowing him a breath, a little scene To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks ; Infusing him with self and vain conceit, As if this flesh, which walls about our life, Were brass impregnable; and, hurrour'd thus, Comes at the last, and with a little pin Bores through his castle-walls, and farewel King! Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood

3

? And that small model of sbe to authorise.

tarren earth.] He uses mo A metaphor, not of the del here, as he frequently does most sublime kind, taken from a elsewhere, for pari, portion.

pie. WARBURTON. 4 Thare the Anti k fors. Here He vies it rather for mould. is an allufion to the anti k or ford That carth, which closing upon of old farces, whose chief part the body, takes its form. This is in deride and disturb the giaver inierpretation the next line seems and more splendid personages.

With solemn Rev'rence; throw away respect,
s Tradition, form, and ceremonious dury,
For you have but mistook me all this while ;
I live on bread like you, feel want like you.
Tafte grief, need friends, like you ; fubjected thus,
How can you say to me, I am a King ?

Carl. My lord, wife men ne'er wail their present woes,
But prelently prevent the ways to wail :
To fear the foe, fince fear oppreslech strength,
Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe;
And so your follies fight against your self.
Fear, and be sain ; no worse can come from fight;
And fight and die, is death destroying death :
Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath.

Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him,
And learn to make a body of a limb.
K. Rich. Thou chid'st me well; proud Boling broke,

I come
To change blows with thee, for our day of doom.
This ague-fit of fear is over-blown;
An easy task it is to win our own.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his Power?
Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be fower.

Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the sky

The state and inclination of the day ;
So may you, by my dull and heavy eye,

My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
I play the torturer, by small and fmall
To lengthen out the worst, that must be spoken,
Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern castles yielded up,
And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Upon his faction.

s Tradition.) This word seems is, to dye fighting, is to return the here used in an improper fenle, evil that we juffer, to destroy for ira fitional practices. That is, the destroyers. I once read death gia' livet or ruilom'ırı hamage. defying deaih, but destroying is as Deuth deftrugi g death.] i hat well.

K. Rich.

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K. Ricb. Thou hast said enough.
Beshrew thee, Coufin, which didit lead me forth

[To Aumerle.
Of that sweet way I was in to Despair.
What say you now? what comfort have we now?
By heav'n, I'll hate him

everlastingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Go to Flint-castle, there I'll pine away,
A King, woe's Nave, shall kingly woe obey :
That Pow'r I have, discharge; and let 'em go
To ear the land, that hath some hope to grow,
For I have none. Let no man speak again
To alter this, for counsel is but vain.

Aum. My Liege, one word.

K. Rich. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatt'ries of his tongue.
Discharge my Foll’wers ; let them hence, away,
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.

[Exeunt. SCENE V.

Bolingbroke's Camp near Flint. Enter with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York,

Northumberland, and Attendants. Boling O that by this intelligence we learn,

The Welshmen are dispers’d; and Salisbury Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed With some few private friends upon this Coast

. North. The news is very fair and good, my lord, Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head.

York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland,

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; I'll hate him everlasting;ýand preparing to submit quietly

That bids me be of comfort. to irretiltible calamity, than theie This sentiment is drawn from Petty and conjectured comforts nature. Nothing is more of which unikilful officiousness thinks fenúve to a mind convinced that it virtue to administer. his ditress is without a remedy,

To

To say, King Richard. Ah, the heavy day,
When such a sacred King should hide his head!

North. Your Grace mistakes me ; only to be brief, Left I his Title out.

York. The time hath been, Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with You, to shorten you, * For taking so the Head, the whole Head's Length: Boling. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you should.

York. Take not, good cousin, farther than you should. Left you

mistake. The heav'ns are o'er your head. Boling. I know it, uncle, nor oppose myfelf Against their will. But who comes here?

Enter Percy.

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Welcome, Harry; what, will not this castle yield ?

Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against your entrance.
Beling. Royally? why, it contains no King ?

Percy. Yes, my good lord,
It doth concain a King. King Richard lies
Within the limits of yond lime and stone;
And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stepben Scroop, besides a clergy-man
Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
North. Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.
Boling. Noble lord,

[To North.
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle,
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver.
Henry of Boling broke upon his knees
Doth kiss King Richard's hand, and sends allegiance
And faith of heart unto his royal person.
Ev'n at his feer I lay my arms and pow'r,
Provided, that my banishment repeald,

For taking so the head,-) out restraint; to take undue lia To take the head is, to act with berues.

And

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