SCROOP. Yea, all of them at Bristol loft their heads.
AUM. Where is the duke my father, with his power?
K. RICH. No matter where; of comfort no man speak;
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
Make duft our paper, and with rainy eyes
Write forrow on the bofom of the earth!
Let's chufe executors, and talk of wills;
And yet not fo-for what can we bequeath,
Save our depofed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own, but death;
And that small model of the barren earth,
Which ferves as pafte and cover to our bones.
For heav'n's fake, let us fit upon the ground,
And tell fad ftories of the death of kings;
How fome have been depos'd, fome flain in war;
Some haunted by the ghofts they difpoffefs'd;
Some poifon'd by their wives, fome fleeping 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 ftate, and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene
To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
Infufing him with felf and vain conceit,
As if this flesh, which walls about our life,
Were brafs impregnable; and, humour'd thus,
Comes at the laft, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle-walls, and farewel king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With folemn rev'rence; throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
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 fay to me I am a king?
CARL My lord, wife men ne'er wail their present woes, But presently prevent the ways to wail :
To fear the foe, fince fear oppreffeth strength,
Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe;
And fo your follies fight against yourself.
Fear, and be flain; no worse can come from fight;
And fight and die, is death destroying death:
Where fearing dying, pays death fervile breath.
AUM. My father hath a power, enquire of him,
And learn to make a body of a limb.
K. RICH. Thou chid'ft me well; proud Bolingbroke,
To change blows with thee, for our day of doom.
This ague-fit of fear is over-blown;
An eafy task it is to win our own.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
Speak fweetly, 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 fmall and small
To lengthen out the worst, that must be spoken.
Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern caftles yielded up,
And all your fouthern gentlemen in arms
Upon his faction.
K. RICH. Thou haft faid enough.
Beshrew thee, coufin, which d.dft lead me forth
Of that sweet way I was in to defpair.
What fay 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 flave, fhall 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.
AUм. My liege, one word.
K. RICH. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatt'ries of his tongue.
Discharge my follow'rs; let them hence, away,
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
SCENE V. Bolingbroke's camp near Flint. Enter with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York, Nor thumberland, and attendants.
BOLING. So that by this intelligence we learn,
The Welshmen are difpers'd; and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed
With fome 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 befeem the lord Northumberland,
To fay, King Richard. Ah, the heavy day,
When such a facred king should hide his head!
NORTH. Your grace mistakes me; only to be brief, Left I his title out.
Yoxx. The time hath been,
Would you have been fo brief with him, he would
Have been fo brief with you, to shorten you,
For taking fo the head, the whole head's length.
BOLING. Miftake not, uncle, farther than you fhould.
YORK. Take not, good.coufin, farther than you should.
Left you mistake. The heav'ns are o'er your head.
BOLING. I know it, uncle, nor oppofe myself
Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter Percy.
Welcome, Harry; what, will not this castle yield.
PERCY. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against your entrance.
BOLING. Royally? why, it contains no king?
PERCY. Yes, my good lord,"
It doth contain a king. King Richard lies
Within the limits of yond lime and stone;
And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop, befides a clergy-man
Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
NORTH. Belike it is the bishop of Carlisle.
BOLING. Noble lord,
Go to the rude ribs of that antient castle,
Through brazen trumpet fend the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry of Bolingbroke upon his knees
Doth kifs king Richard's hand, and fends allegiance
And faith of heart unto his royal person.
Ev'n at his feet I lay my arms and pow'r;
Provided, that my banishment repeal'd,
And lands restor'd again, be freely granted :
If not, I'll ufe th'advantage of my power;
And lay the fummer's dust with show'rs of blood,
Rain'd from the wounds of flaughter'd Englishmen.
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, fuch crimson tempest should bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land,
My stooping duty tenderly fhall fhew.
Go fignify as much, while here we march
Upon the graffy carpet of this plain.
Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
That from this caftle's tatter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, king Richard and myself should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock,
At meeting, tears the cloudy cheeks of heav'n;
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
My waters! on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark king Richard how he looks.
SCENE VI.
Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish. Enter, on the walls, King Richard, the bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop, and Salisbury.
YORK. See! fee! king Richard doth himself appear,
As doth the blushing discontented fun,
From out the fiery portal of the east,
When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent
To dim his glory, and to stain the tract
Of his bright paffage to the occident.
Yet looks he like a king; behold his eye,
As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
Controlling majefty; alack, for woe,
That any harm should stain fo fair a shew!
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