What answer fhall I make to this bafe man?
Shall I fo much dishonour my fair stars,
On equal terms to give him chastisement ?
Either I muft, or have mine honour foil'd
With the attainder of his fland'rous lips.—
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou lieft,
And will maintain, what thou hast said, is false,
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
Boling. Bagot, forbear, thou shalt not take it up.
Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this prefence, that hath mov'd 'me fo.
Fitz. If that thy valour stand on fympathies,
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair fun that shows me where thou stand'st,
I heard thee fay, and vauntingly thou fpak'ft it,
That thou wert cause of noble Glofter's death.
If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou lieft;
And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
Aum. Thou dar'ft not, coward, live to see that day. Fitz. Now, by my foul, I would it were this hour. Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou lieft; his honour is as true, In this appeal, as thou art all unjust :
And, that thou art fo, there I throw my gage,
To prove it on thee to the extremeft point
Of mortal breathing; feize it, if thou dar'st.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
Lord. I take the earth to the like, forfworn Aumerle; And fpur thee on with full as many lies
As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear
From fun to fun : there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Aum. Who fets me elfe? by heaven, I'll throw at all: I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Surry. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
Fitz. My lord, 'tis true: you were in prefence then;
And you can witnefs with me, this is true.
Surry. As falfe, by heaven, as heaven itself is true. Fitz. Surry, thou lieft.
Dishonourable boy!
That lie fhall lie fo heavy on my sword,
That it shall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do Iïe
In earth as quiet as thy father's fcull.
In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Fitz. How fondly doft thou fpur a forward horfe!
If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
I dare meet Surry in a wilderness,
And fpit upon him, whilft I fay, he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
To tie thee to my strong correction.-
As I intend to thrive in this new world,
Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal :
Befides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk fay,
That thou, Aumerle, didft fend two of thy men
To execute the noble duke at Calais.
Aum. Some honest christian trust me with a gage,
That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this,
If he may be repeal'd to try his honour.
Boling. Thefe differences shall all reft under gage,
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, reftor'd again
To all his land and fignories; when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
For Jefu Chrift; in glorious Christian field
Streaming the enfign of the Christian cross,
Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself
To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure foul unto his captain Christ,
Under whofe colours he had fought so long.
Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Car. As fure as I live, my lord.
Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet foul to the bofon Of good old Abraham !-Lords appellants,
Your differences fhall all reft under gage,
Till we affign you to your days of trial.
York, Great duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing foul Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields
To the poffeffion of thy royal hand :
Afcend his throne, descending now from him,—
And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
Boling. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
Car. Marry, God forbid !-
Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
Yet beft befeeming me to speak the truth.
Would God, that any in this noble presence
Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard; then true nobless would
Learn him forbearance from fo foul a wrong.
What fubject can give fentence on his king?
And who fits here, that is not Richard's fubject?
Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear,
Although apparent guilt be seen in them:
And fhall the figure of God's majesty,
His captain, fteward, deputy elect,
Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
Be judg'd by fubject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God,
That, in a Chriftian climate, fouls refin'd
Should fhow fo heinous, black, obfcene a deed!
I fpeak to fubjects, and a subject fspeaks,
Stirr'd up by heaven thus boldly for his king.
My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king:
And if you crown him, let me prophecy,—
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future ages groan for this foul act;
Peace fhall go fleep with Turks and infidels,
And, in this feat of peace, tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind confound;
Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,
Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
The field of Golgotha and dead men's fculls.
O, if you rear this house against this house,
It will the wofullest division prove,
That ever fell upon this curfed earth:
Prevent, refift it, let it not be so,
Left child, child's children, cry against you-woe!
North. Well have you argu'd, fir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treafon we arreft you here:
My lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him fafely till his day of trial.
May't please you, lords, to grant the commons fuit?
Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may furrender; fo we shall proceed
Boling. Lords, you that are here under our arrest, Procure your fureties for your days of answer :— Little are we beholden to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
Re-enter YORK, with King RICHARD, and Officers bearing the crown, &c.
K. Rich. Alack, why am I fent for to a king,
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
To infinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee :
Give forrow leave a while to tutor me
To this fubmiffion. Yet I well remember
The favours of these men: Were they not mine?
Did they not fometime cry, all hail! to me?
So Judas did to Chrift: but he, in twelve,
Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
God fave the king!-Will no man say, amen?
Am I both priest and clerk ? well then, amen.
God fave the king! although I be not he;
And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.—
To do what service am I fent for hither?
York. To do that office, of thine own good will,
Which tired majesty did make thee offer,-
The refignation of thy ftate and crown
To Henry Bolingbroke.
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