And ostentation of despised arms? [hence?
Com'st thou because the anointed king is
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars
of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee,
And minister correction to thy fault!
Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my
fault;
On what condition stands it, and wherein ? York. Even in condition of the worst degree,
In gross rebellion, and detested treason:
Thou art a banish'd man, and here art coine,
Before the expiration of thy time,
In braving arms against thy sovereign.
Boling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd
Hereford;
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent* eye:
You are my father, for, methinks, in you
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 arms perforce, and given
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, am duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod
down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs,t 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 and 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 nobie duke hath been too much abus'd.
Ross. It stands your grace upon, to do him right.
Willo. Base men by his endowments are made great.
York. My lords of England, let me tell you this,
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
York. Well, well, I see the issue of these
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,
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 held
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 [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 WelshThe king reposeth all his confidence [man; In thee
Capt. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not stay. The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change; [leap,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 assur'd, Richard their king is dead.
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.
ACT III. 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 (Since presently your souls must part your b dies,)
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity: yet, to wash your blooti
From off my hands, here, in the view of men,
I will unfold some causes of your death.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigur'd clean.
You have, in manner, with your sinful hours,
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him;
Broke the possession of a royal bed,
And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul
wrongs.
Eating the bitter bread of banishment: Whilst you have fed upon my signories, Dispark'd my parts, and fell'd my forest woods; [coat, From my own windows torn my household Raz'd 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,
Condemns you to the death:--See them deliver'd over
To execution and the hand of death. Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death [well. Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, fareGreen. My comfort is,-that heaven will take our souls,
And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boing. 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,
To fight with Glendower and his complices; Awhile to work, and, after, holiday. [Exeunt.
SCENE II.-The Coast of Wales.-A castle in view.
Flourish: Drums and Trumpets. Enter King RICHARD, Bishop of CARLISLE, AUMERLE, and Soldiers.
K. Rich. Barkloughly castle call you this at hand?
Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace the air,
After late tossing on the breaking seas?
K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep
To stand upon my kingdom once again.-
Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
Though rebels wound thee with their horses'
hoofs:
As a long parted mother with her child
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.
Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy sweets comfort his rav'nous sense:
But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way;
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet,
Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies:
And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
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;
Thrown down the hedges. Of arms. + Motto.
Commendations.
This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king Shall falter under foul rebellious arms.
Car. 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 embrac'd,
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 wand'ring with the antipodes,-
Shall see us rising in our throne the east,
His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
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 gracions 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
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead, Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled. Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your
K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty thou sand men
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 you
K. Rich. I had forgot myself: Am I not king?
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?
Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege,
Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him.
K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart pre-
par'd;
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;
The worst is-death, and death will have his
day.
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 dissolv'd to tears;
So high above his limits swells the rage
Of Bolingbroke, coverin your fearful land
With hard bright steel, id hearts harder than
steel.
[scalps
White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless
Against thy majesty; boys, with women's
voices,
Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown:
Thy 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.
[got?
Where is the earl of Wiltshire? where is Ba-
What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
I warrant, they have made peace with Boling-
broke.
Scroop. Peace have they made with him, in-
deed, my lord.
K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damn'd without
redemption!
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting
my heart!
[Judas!
Three Judasses, each one thrice worse than
Would they make peace? terrible hell make
Upon their spotted souls for this offence! [war
Scroop. Sweet love, I see, changing his pro-I
perty,
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate:-
Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
With heads, and not with hands: those whom
[wound,
Have felt the worst of death's destroying
And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.
Aum. Is Bushy, Green, and the earl of Wilt-
shire, dead?
Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their
head
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 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 bone
For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And teil sad stories of the death of kings :--
How some have been depos'd, some slain in
Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd;
war;
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
Bores through his castle wall, and-farewell
king!
[blood
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and
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-Subjected thus,
How can you say to me--I am a king?
Car. My lord, wise men ne'er wail their
present 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, enquire of
And learn to make a body of a limb. [him;
K. Rich. Thou chid'st me well :-Proud Bol-
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?
[sour.
Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be
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.
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.
Beshrewt thee, cousin, which didst lead me
[To AUMERLIE
Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
What say you now? What comfort have we | If not, I'll use the advantage of my power,
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly, [now? And lay the summer's dust with showers of
That bids me be of comfort aay more.
Go, to Flint castle; there I'll pine away;
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd English-
[men:
That power* I have, discharge; and let them
The which, how far off from the mind of Bol-
go
ingbroke
To eart 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 flatteries of his
tongue.
Discharge my followers, let them hence;
[Away,
From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair
day.
[Exeunt.
SCENE III.-Wales.-Before Flint Custle.
Enter, with Drum and Colours, BOLINGBROKE,
and Forces; YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and
others.
Boling. So 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 Northum-
berland,
To say-king Richard:-Alack the heavy day,
When such a sacred king should hide his head!
North. Your grace mistakes me; only to be
Left I his title out.
York. The time hath been,
[brief,
Would you have been so brief with him, he
would
Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
For taking so the head, your whole head's
length.
Boling. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should.
York. Take not, good cousin, further than you should, Lest you mistake: The heavens are o'er your [head. Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not Myself against their will.-But who comes here?
Well, Harry; what, will not this castle yield?
Percy. The castle royally is mann'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 Salis-
bury,
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
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver. [parle
Harry Bolingbroke
On both his knees doth kiss king Richard's
hand;
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 restor'd again, be freely granted:
+ Plough.
The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land,
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench
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
Let's march without the noise of threat'ning
Castle, with a Trumpet.
That from the castle's totter'd battlements
drum,
Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, king Richard and myself should
At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
With no less terror than the elements
Offire and water, when their thund'ring shock
[meet
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
March on, and mark king Richard how he
looks.
A parle sounded, and answered by another Trum-
pet within. Flourish. Enter on the walls King
RICHARD, the Bishop of CARLISLE, AUMERLE,
SCROOP, and SALISBURY.
York. See, see, king Richard doth himself
appear,
As doth the blushing discontented sun
From out the fiery portal of the east;
To dim his glory, and to stain the track
When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,
Of his bright passage to the occident.
Controlling majesty; Alack, alack, for woe,
As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
That any harm should stain so fair a show!
K. Rich. We are amaz'd; and thus long have
To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
we stood
Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
[To NORTHUMBERLAND:
And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship;
To pay their awful duty to our presence?
If we be not, show us the hand of God
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
And though you think, that all, as you have
done,
Yet know,-my master, God omnipotent,
Have torn their souls, by turning them from
[us,
And we are barren, and bereft of friends;-
Is must'ring in his clouds, on our behalf,
Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
Your children yet unborn, and unbegot,
And threat the glory of my precious crown.
That lift your vassal hands against my head,
That every stride he makes upon my land,
Is dangerous treason: He is come to ope
Tell Bolingbroke, (for yond', methinks, he is,)
But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
The purple testament of bleeding war;
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill become the flower of England's face ;*
Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To scarlet indignation, and bedew
Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
North. The king of heaven forbid, our lord, Or shall we play the wantons with our woes, And make some pretty match with shedding
Should so with civil and uncivil arms
Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice-noble cousin,
Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand;
And by the honourable tomb he swears,
That stands upon thy royal grandsire's bones;
And by the royalties of both your bloods,
Currents that spring from one most gracious
head;
And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt;
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprising all that may be sworn or said,-
His coming hither hath no further scope,
Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
Enfranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
To faithful service of your majesty.
This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.'
K. Rich. Northumberland, say, thus the king returns;
His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction:
With all the gracious utterance thou hast
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.-
We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not,
[To AUMERLE.
To look so poorly, and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gen-
tle words,
Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords.
K. Rich. O God! O God! that e'er this
tongue of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment
On yon proud man, should take it off again
With words of sooth !+ O, that I were as great
As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
Or that I could forget what I have been!
Or not remember what I must be now!
Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope
to beat,
Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bo-
K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must
The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd?
The king shall be contented: Must he lose
The name of king? o'God's name, let it go:
I'll give my jewels, for a set of beads;
My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage;
My gay apparel, for an alms-man's gown;
My figur'd goblets, for a dish of wood;
My sceptre, for a palmer's walking-staff;
My subjects, for a pair of carved saints;
And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave:-
Or I'll be buried in the king's highway, [feet
Some way of common trade, where subjects'
May hourly trample on their sovereign's head:
For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live;
And, buried once, why not upon my head?-
Aumerle, thou weep'st; My tender-hearted
cousin!-
We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the summer
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As thus:-To drop them still upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Within the earth; and, therein laid,-There lies
Two kinsmen, digg'd their graves with weeping
eyes?
Would not this ill do well?-Well, well, I see
I talk but idly, and you mock at me.-
Most mighty prince, my lord Northumberland,
What says king Bolingbroke? will his majesty
Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
You make a leg,* and Bolingbroke says--ay.
North. My lord, in the baset court he doth
attend
[down?
To speak with you; may't please you to come K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering Phaeton,
Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
NORTH. retires to BOLING.
In the base court? Base court, where kings
grow base,
To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace. In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!
For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks
should sing. [Exeunt, from above.
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 apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.-
My gracious lord,-
[Kneeling. K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee,
To make the base earth proud with kissing it;
Me rather had, my heart might feel your love,
Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Thus high at least, [Touching his own head.
although your knee be low.
Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours,
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Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
Though you are old enough to be my heir.
What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
For do we must, what force will have us do.
Set on towards London:-Cousin, is it so?
Boling. Yea, my good lord.
K. Rich. Then I must not say, no.
[Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE IV-Langley.-The Duke of YORK's Garden.
Enter the QUEEN, and two LADIES. Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this garden,
To drive away the heavy thought of care? 1 Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls.
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