I see old Gaunt alive, O, then, my father!
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond ; my rights and royal-
ties
[away
Pluck'd from my arins perforce, and given
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman;
Had you first died, and he had been thus trod
down,
[ther,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a fa-
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the
I am denied to sue my livery + here, [bay.
And yet my letters-patent give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd, aud sold
And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law: Attornies are denied me;
And therefore personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.

;

North. The noble duke hath been too much abused. [right. Ross. It stands your grace upon †, to do him Willo. Base men by his endowments are [this,

made great.

York, My lords of England, let me tell you I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs, And labour'd all I could to do him right: But in this kind to come, in braving arms, Be his own carver, and cut out his way, To find out right with wrong,-it may not be; And you, that do abet him in this kind, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.

North. The noble duke hath sworn, his coming is

But for his own: and, for the right of that, We all have strongly sworn to give him aid; And let him ne'er see joy, that breaks that oath.

York. Well, well, I see the issue of these

arins;

I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
Because my power is weak, and all ill left:
But, if I could, by Him that gave me life,
I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Unto the sovereign mercy of the king;
But, since I cannot, be it known to you,

ACT

SCENE I. Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol. Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, WILLOUGHBY, ROSS:

Officers behind with BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners.

Boling. Bring forth these men.→→ Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls (S'nce presently your souls must part your bodies),

With too much arging your pernicious lives, For 't were no charity: yet, to wash your blood

• The persons who wrong him.

I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;-
Unless you please to enter in the castle,
And there repose you for this night.

Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
But we must win your grace, to go with us
To Bristol castle; which, they say, is beld
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away.
York. It may be, I will go with you :-but
yet I'll pause;

For I am loath to break our country's laws. Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are: Things past redress, are now with me past care. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV. A Camp in Wales. Enter SALISBURY, and a Captain. Capt. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten days,

And hardly kept our countrymen together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
Therefore we will disperse ourselves: farewell.
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty
Welshman;

The king reposeth all his confidence
In thee.

[not stay.

Cap. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful [leap,

change;

Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and
The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy,
The other, to enjoy by rage and war:
These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.—
Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well assured, Richard their king is dead.

¡Exit.

Sal. Ah, Richard! with the eyes of heavy I see thy glory, like a shooting star, [mind, Fall to the base earth from the firmament! Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest: Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes; And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. [Exit.

III.

It is your interest.

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,, And sigh'd my English breath in foreign Eating the bitter bread of banishment: [clouds, Whilst you have fed upon my signories, Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods; [coat +, From my own windows torn my household Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign,Save men's opinions, and my living blood,To show the world I am a gentleman. This, and much more, much more than twice all this, [liver'd over Condemns you to the death:-See them deTo execution and the hand of death. [to me, Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewell. [take our souls, Green. My comfort is,-that heaven will And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boling. My lord Northumberland, see them despatch'd.

[Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and others, with Prisoners. Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house; For heaven's sake, fairly let her be entreated: Tell her, I send to her my kind commends; Take special care my greetings be deliver'd. York. A gentleman of mine I have despatch'd

With letters of your love to her at large. Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.-Come, lords,

Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder;
Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.-
Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords;
This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
Shall falter under foul rebellious arms.
Bishop. Fear not, my lord; that Power,
that made you king,

Hath
power to keep you king, in spite of all.
The means that heaven yields must be em-
braced,

And not neglected; else, if heaven would, And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse; The proffer'd means of succour and redress. Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too

remiss;

Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, Grows strong and great, in substance, and in friends.

K. Rich. Discomfortable cousin! know'st
thou not,

That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
In murders, and in outrage, bloody here;
But when, from under this terrestrial ball,
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,
And darts his light through every guilty hole,
Then murders, treasons, and detested sins,
The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their
backs,
[selves!
Stand bare and naked, trembling at them.
So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,-
Who all this while hath revell'd in the night,
Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes,
His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
Shall see us rising in our throne the east,
Not able to endure the sight of day.
But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king:
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord:
For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd,
To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards
the right.

Enter SALISBURY. Welcome, my lord; How far off lies your power?

Sal. Nor near, nor further off, my gracious lord, [tongue, Than this weak arm: Discomfort guides my And bids me speak of nothing but despair. One day too late, I fear, my noble lord, Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth: O, call back yesterday, bid time return, And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late, [men! O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state!

For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, Are gone to Bolingbroke, diepersed and fled. Motte. Force.

ý Commendations.

Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale? [thousand men K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty 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; For time hath set a blot upon my pride. Aum. Comfort, my liege; remember who [king? K. Kich. I had forgot myself: Am I not Awake, thou sluggard majesty! thou sleep'st. Is not the king's name forty thousand names? Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes At thy great glory.-Look not to the ground, Ye favourites of a king; Are we not high? High be our thoughts: I know, my uncle York Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who Comes here?

you are.

Enter SCROOP.

Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege,

Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him. K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared;

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?
Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so:
Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend;
They break their faith to God, as well as us:
Cry, woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay: [day.
The worst is-death, and death will have his
Scroop. Glad am I, that your highness is so
To bear the tidings of calamity. [arm'd
Like an unseasonable stormy day, [shores,
Which makes the silver rivers drown their
As if the world were all dissolved to tears;
So high above his limits swells the rage
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than
[less scalps
White-beards have arm'd their thin and hair-
Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
In stiff unwieldly arms against thy crown:
The very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
Of double-fatal yew against thy state;
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat; both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
K. Rich. Too well, too well, thou tell'st a
tale so ill.

steel.

Wiltshire, dead?

[heads. Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their Aum. Where is the duke my father with his power? [man speak:

K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
Let's choose 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 Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own, but death;
And that small model of the barren earth,
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:-
How some have been deposed,someslain inwar;
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping
kill'd;

All murder'd:-For within the hollow crown,
That rounds the mortal temples of a king,
Keeps death his court: and there the antic sits,
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, humour'd thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin [king!
Bores through his castle wall, and-farewell
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence; throw away respect,
Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while:
I live with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends:-Subjécted thus,
How can you say to me-I am a king?

Car. My lord, wise men ne'er wail their pre

sent woes,

But presently prevent the ways to wail.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Gives, in your weakness,strength unto your foe,
And so your follies fight against yourself.
Fear, and be slain; no worse can come, to fight'
And fight and die, is death destroying death;
Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath:

Aum. My father hath a power, inquire of
And learn to make a body of a limb. [him;
K. Rich. Thon chidest me well:-Proud
Bolingbroke, I come
[doom.

To change blows with thee for our day of
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? [sour. Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks bet Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the The state and inclination of the day: [sky 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 small,
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
Your uncle York hath join'd with Bolingbroke;
And all your northern castles yielded up,
And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Upon his
party *.
K. Rich. Thou hast said enough.-
Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me
forth
[7% AUMERLE.

Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
What say you now? What comfort have we
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly, [now?
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Go, to Flint castle; there I'll pine away;
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey. [go
That power I have, discharge; and let them
To ear the land thathath 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 flatteries of his
tongue.
[Away,
Discharge my followers, let them hence;
From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair
day.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

Wales. Before Flint Castle. Enter, with Drum and Colours, BOLINGBROKE and Forces; YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and Others.

Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn, The Welshmen are dispersed; 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; [head. Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland,

To say-king Richard:-Alack the heavy day,
When such a sacred king should hide his head!
North. Your grace mistakes me; only to
Left I his title out.
[be brief,

York. The time hath been, [would Would you have been so brief with him, he Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, For taking so the head T, your whole head's length. [should. Boling. Mistake not, uncle, further than you York. Take not, good cousin, further than you should, [head. Lest you mis-take: The heavens are o'er your Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not Myself against their will.-But who comes Enter PERCY. [here? Well, Harry'; what, will not this castle yield?

Percy.The castle royally is manu'd,my lord, Against thy 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 yon lime and stone:
And with him are the lord Aumerle, lord Sa-
lisbury,

Sir Stephen Scroop; besides a clergyman
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.
Harry Bolingbroke
[hand;
On both his knees doth kiss king Richard's
And sends allegiance, and true faith of heart,
To his most royal person: hither come
Even at his feet to lay my arms and power;
Provided that, my banishment repeal'd,
And lands restored again, be freely granted:
If not, I'll use the advantage of my power,
And lay the summer's dust with showers of
blood,
[lishmen :
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Eng-
The which, how far off from the mind of Bo-
lingbroke

It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land,
My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
Go, signify as much; while here we march
Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.-

[NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the 'Castle, with a Trumpet. Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,

That from the castle's totter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perused.
Methinks, king Richard and myself should
With no less terror than the elements [meet
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock
At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
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.

A parle sounded, and answered by another Trumpet within. Flourish. Enter on the walls King RICHARD, the Bishop of Carlisle, AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALIS

BURY..

York. See, see, king Richard doth himself As doth the blushing discontented sun {appear 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 Of his bright passage to the occident. Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye, As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majesty; Alack, alack, for woe, That any harm should stain so fair a show! || Short. Such liberty.