If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. I would to heav'n, my Lords, he might be found. Even fuch, they fay, as ftand in narrow lanes, Percy. My Lord, fome two days fince I faw the Prince, And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. Boling. And what faid the gallant? Percy. His answer was, he would unto the ftews, Boling. As diffolute as defp'rate; yet thro' both Aum. Where is the King? Boling. What means our coufin, that he ftares, And looks fo wildly? Aum. God fave your Grace. I do befeech your MaTo have fome conf'rence with your Grace alone. [jefty Boling. Withdraw yourfelves, and leave us here [Ex. Lords. alone. What is the matter with our coufin now? [Kneels. My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Boling. Intended, or committed, was this fault? If but the firft, how heinous e'er it be, To win thy after-love, I pardon thee. Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till the tale be done. Boling. Have thy defire. [York within. York. My Liege, beware, look to thyself, Thou haft a traitor in thy prefence there. Boling. Villain, I'll make thee fafe. Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand, thou haft no caufe to fear. York. Open the door, fecure, fool-hardy King. SCENE VII. Enter York. Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak, take Tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. [breath: York. Peruse this writing here, and thou fnalt know The treason that my halte forbids me fhow. Aum. Remember as thou read'ft, thy promise past: York. Villain, it was ere thy hand fet it down. Boling. O heinous, ftrong, and bold confpiracy!'t O loyal father of a treach'rous fon! Thou clear, immaculate, and filver fountain, York. So fhall my virtue be his vice's bawd, Duch. What ho, my Liege! for Heav'n's fake let me in. Boling. What fhrill-voice'd fuppliant makes this ea ger cry? Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great King, 'tis I. Speak Speak with me, pity me, open the door ; Boling. My dang'rous coufin, let your mother in; I know the's come to pray for your foul fin. York. If thou do pardon, whofoever pray, More fins for his forgivenness prosper may : This fefter d joint cut off, the rest is found; This let alone, will all the rest confound. SCENE VIII. Enter Duchefs. Duch. O King, believe not this hard-hearted man; Love, loving not itself, none other can. York. Thou frantic woman, what doit thou do here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear Duch. Sweet York, be patient; hear me, gentle Liege, Boling. Rife up, good aunt. Duch. Not yet, I thee befeech; For ever will I kneel upon my knees, [Kneels. Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, [Kneels. York. Against them both my true joints bended be. [Kneels. Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face ? His eyes do drop no tears, his prayer's in jeft; His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast: He prays but faintly, and would be deny'd; We pray with heart and foul, and all befide. His weary joints would gladly rife, I know; Our knees fhall kneel till to the ground they grow. His pray'rs are full of false hypocrify, Ours of true zeal, and deep integrity; his; Our prayers do out-pray never begg'd before. Boling. Our fcene is alter'd from a frious thing, And now change'd to the beggar and the King: My dangerous coufin, &c, Boling. Boling. Good aunt, ftand up. Duch. Nay, do not fay, Stand up, But pardon first; fay afterwards, Stand up. Duch. I do not fue to ftand, Pardon is all the fuit I have in hand. Boling. I pardon him, as Heav'n fhall pardon me, Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain, Boling. With all my heart I pardon him. Duch. A God on earth thou art. Boling. But for our trusty-brother-in-law, the AbWith all the rest of that conforted crew, [bot,Deftruction straight shall dog them at the heels. Good uncle, help to order several powers To Oxford, or where-e'er these traitors are. t pardon ftrong. The word is fhort, but not fo fhort as sweet; No word like pardon for Kings' mouths fo meet. Ah, my four husband, mv hard hearted lord, They shall not live within this world, I swear; Uncle, farewel; and coufin too, adieu; Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. Duch. Come, my old fon; I pray Heav'n make thee new. [Exeunt. SCENE SCENE IX. Enter Exton and a Servant. Exton. Didst thou not mark the King, what words he fpake? "Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? Was it not fo? Serv. Thofe were his very words. Exton. "Have I no friend?-quoth he; he fpake And urge'd it twice together; did he not? [it twice, Serv. He did. Exten. And fpeaking it, he wiftly look'd on me, As who fhall fay,-I would thou wert the man, That would divorce this terror from my heart; Meaning the King at Pomfret. Come, let's I am the King's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt. Changes to the prison at Pomfret caftle. Enter King Richard. go: K. Rich. I have been studying how to compare This prison where I live, unto the world; And, for because the world is populous, ‹ And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer on't. My brain I'll prove the female to my foul, My foul, the father; and these two beget A generation of still breeding thoughts; ones ; and then [again, • And these fame thoughts people this little world; K Thoughts |