Transform'd and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke
Depos'dthine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
The lion, dying, thrustest forth his paw,

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly? kiss the rod ?
And fawn on rage with base humility,

Which art a lion, and a king of beasts? [beasts, 10
K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but
I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for
France:

Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st
As from my death-bed, my last living leave.
In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages long ago betid:

15

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief', 20
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,

And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter Northumberland, attended.
North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is
chang'd;

K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and
heart from heart.

Queen. Banish us both, and send the king with me.
North. That were some love, but little policy.
Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
K.Rich.Sotwo,together weeping,make one woe,
Veep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off, than-near, be ne'er the near3.
Go, count thy way with sighs; 1, mine with groans.
Queen. So longest way shall have the longest

We

moans.

K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way
being short,

And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.
One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;-
Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.

[They kiss. Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.

[Kiss again.

So, now I have mine own again, be gone, 25 That I may strive to kill it with a groan. K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond

30

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.-
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed, you must away to France.
K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder where-
withal

35

[way

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,-
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption: thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm, and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all;
And he shall think, that thou, which know'st the
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear:
That fear, to hate; and hate turns one, or both,
To worthy danger, and deserved death.

North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith.
K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd?--Bad men, ye violate
A two-fold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me;
And then betwixt me and my married wife.--
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me:

[To the Queen.

And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.—
Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime:
My wife to France; from whence, set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hollowmas2, or short'st of day.

Queen. And must we be divided? must we part:

40|

45

50

55

60

When weeping made you break the story off
Of our two cousins coming into London.
York. Where did I leave?

Dutch. At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude misgovern'd hands, from window tops,
Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head.

York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Boling-
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, [broke,-
Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,—
With slow, but stately pace kept on his course,
While all tongues cry'd-God save thee, Boling-

broke!

You would have thought the very windows spake,
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage; and that all the walls,
With painted imag'ry, had said at once,-
Jesu preserve thee! welcome Bolingbroke!
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus,-I thank you, countrymen :
And thus still doing, thus he passed along.

Dutch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the
while?

York. As, in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well grac'd actor ieaves the stage,

Meaning, to requite, or repay them for their mournful stories. 2 i. e. All-hallows, ́or allhallowntide; the first of November. i. e. to be never the nigher; or, to inake no advance towards the good desired.

Are idly bent' on him that euters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious:
Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard; no man cry'd, God save him:
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,-
His face still combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience,—

5

That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd 10
The heartsofmen,they must perforce,have melted,|
And barbarism itself have pitied him.
But heaven hath a hand in these events;

To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
Whose state and honour I for aye allow.

Enter Aumerle.

Dutch. Here comes my son Aumerle.
York, Aumerle that was2;

But that is lost, for being Richard's friend,
And, madam, you must call him Rutland now:
I am in parliament pledge for his truth,
And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

[now,

15

I will appeach the villain.
Dutch. What's the matter?
York, Peace, foolish woman.
Dutch. I will not peace :-

[son!

-What is the matter,

Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more
Than my poor life must answer.
Dutch. Thy life answer!

Enter Servant, with boots.

York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king.
Dutch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou
art amaz'd:-

Hence, villain; never more come in my sight.—
[Speaking to the servant.
York. Give me my boots, I say.
Dutch. Why, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
20 And rob me of a happy mother's name?
Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?
York. Thou fond mad woman,

Dutch. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets
That strew the green-lap of the new-come spring: 25
Aum. Madan, I know not, nor I greatly care not;
God knows, I had as lief be none, as one. [time,
York. Well, bear you well' in this new spring of
Lest you be cropt before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? Hold those justs and 30
triumphs?

Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
York. You will be there, I know.
Aum. If God prevent me not; I purpose so.
York. What seal is that, that hangs without
thy bosom?

Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing.

York. No matter then who sees it:

I will be satisfy'd, let me see the writing.

Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me;
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not have seen.

York. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
I fear, I fear,

Dutch. What should you fear?

'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay apparel, against the triumph. [bond
York. Bound to himself? what doth he with al
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.—
Boy, let me see the writing.
[shew it.
Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not
York. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
[Snatches it and reads.
Treason! foul treason!-villain! traitor! slave!
Dutch. What is the matter, my lord?
York. Ho! who is within there? saddle my horse.
Heaven, for his mercy! what treachery is here!
Dutch. Why, what is it, my lord?

35

40

Wilt thou conceal this da k conspiracy?
A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their hands,
To kill the king at Oxford.

Dutch. He shall be none;

We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him!
York. Away, fond woman! were he twenty
My son, I would appeach him.
[times

Dutch. Had'st thou groan'd for him,
As I have done, thoud'st be more pitiful.
But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect,
That I have been disloyal to thy bed,

And that he is a bastard, not thy son:

Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind:
He is as like thee as a man may be,

Not like to me, or any of my kin,

And

yet I love him.

York. Make way, unruly woman. [Exit. [horse;
Dutch. After, Aumerle: mount thee upon his
Spur, post; and get before him to the king,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
451 doubt not but to ride as fast as York:
And never will I rise up from the ground,
Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee: Away.
[Exeunt.

50

SCENE III.

The Court at Windsor Castle.
Enter Bolingbroke, Percy, and other Lords.
Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?
'Tis full three months, since I did see him last:-
55 If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.

I would to heaven, my lords, he might be found:
Enquire at London, 'inongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose companions;

York. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse: 60 Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanęs, Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;

1

1i. e, carelessly turned. 2 From Holinshed we learn, that the dukes of Aumerle, Surry, and Exeter, were by an act of Henry's first parliament deprived of their dukedoms, but allowed to retain their earldoms of Rutkend, Kent, and Huntingdon. i. e. conduct yourself with prudence.

While

While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour, to support
[prince;
So desolute a crew.
Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford.
Boling. And what said the gallant?

5

[both 10

Percy. His answer was,--he would unto the stews;
And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour; and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
Boling. As dissolute, as desperate: yet, through
I see some sparkles of a better hope,
Which elder days may happily bring forth.
But who comes here?

Enter Aumerle, amazed.

Aum. Where is the king?

Boling. What means

Our cousin, that he stares and looks so widly? Aum. God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,

To have some conference with your grace alone. Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.

15

20

What is the matter with our cousin now?
Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth, 25
[Kneels.

My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak!

Boling. Intended, or committed, was this fault?

If but the first, how heinous ere it be,

[key,

To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.
Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the
That no man enter 'till my tale be done
Boling. Have thy desire.

30

[York within.

35

York. My liege, beware; look to thyself;

Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. [Drawing.
Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;

Thou hast no cause to fear.

Thy overflow of good converts to bad';
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing' son.

York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;
And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
Or sham'd life in his dishonour lies:
my
Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath,
[Dutchess within:
The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.

Dutch. What ho, my liege! for heaven's sake,
[eager cry?
let me in.
Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this
Dutch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king;
'tis I.

Speak with me, pity me, open the door;
A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.
Boling.Our scene is alter'd, from a serious thing,
And now chang'd to the Beggar and the King^.—
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in;
I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin.
York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may.
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound;
This, let alone, will all the rest confound.
Enter Dutchess.
[here?
Dutch.Oking,believe not this hard-hearted man;
Love, loving not itself, none other can.
York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou do
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
Dutch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me,

York. Open the door, secure, fool-hardy king: 40 Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my

Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?

Open the door, or I will break it open.

The King opens the door, enter York. Boling. What is the mater, uncle? speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it.

[know

York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt
The treason that my haste forbids meshow. [past:
Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise
I do repent me; read not my name there,
My heart is not confederate with my hand.
York.'Twas, villain,ere thy hand did set it down.-
I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence:
Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove
A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
Boling.Oheinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!-
O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer', immaculate, and silver fountain,

43

knee.

[Kneels. York. Against them both, my true joints bended be.

[Kneels.

Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
Dutch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
His words come from his mouth, ours from our
breast:

He prays but faintly, and would be deny'd;
50 We pray with heart, and soul, and all beside:
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
Our knees shall kneel 'till to the ground they grow:
His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ;
Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity.

55 Our prayers do ont-pray his; then let them have
That mercy, which true prayers ought to have.
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.

Dutch. Nay, do not say-stand up;

But, pardon, first; and afterwards, stand up;

From whence this stream through muddy passages 60 And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, Hath held his current, and defil'd himself!

1 Sheer is pellucid, clear.

Pardon-should be the first word of thy speech.

2 That is, "The overflow of good in thee is turned to bad in thy son."

To digress is to deviate from what is right and regular. in our author's time.

Alluding to an interlude well known
I never

I never long'd to hear a word 'till now:
Say-pardon, king; let pity teach thee how:
The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like, pardon, for kings' mouths so meet.
York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardonnez
moy'.

Dutch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
That set'st the word itself against the word!--
Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there:
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee pardon to rehearse.

Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
Dutch. I do not sue to stand,
Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

Boling. I pardon him, as heaven shall pardon me.
Dutch. O'happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;
Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon strong.

Boling. With all my heart

I pardon him.

5

And here is not a creature but myself,
cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
My soul, the fa her: and these two beget
A generation of still-breeding thoughts,

And these same thoughts people this little world,
In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,—
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd
10 With scruples, and do set the word itself
Against the word3:

As thus,-Come, little ones; and then again,-
It is as hard to come, as for a camel
To thread the postern of a needle's eye.
15 Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
20 Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,-
That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Nor shall not be the last: Like silly beggars,
Who, siting in the stocks, refuge their shame,-
That many have, and others must sit there:
25 And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of such as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play I, in one person, many people,
And none contented: Sometimes am I king;
30 Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: then crushing penury

Dutch. A god on earth thou art. [the abbot',
Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,-and
With all the rest of that consorted crew,-
Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.-
Good uncle, help to order several powers
To Oxford, or where-e'er these traitors are:
They shall not live within this world, I swear,
But I will have them, if I once knew where.
Uncle, farewel;-and, cousin, too, adieu:
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. 35
Dutch. Come, my old son; I pray heaven
make thee new.
[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Enter Exton, and a Servant.
Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what
words he spake?

Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?
Was it not so?

Persuades me, I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by,
Think, that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing:-But what-e'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,

With nothing shall be pleas'd, 'till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Music do I hear? [Music.
Ha, ha! keep time:-How sour sweet music is
40 When time is broke, and no proportion kept?
So is it in the musick of men's lives.

[twice, 45

Serv. Those were his very words.
Exton. Have I no friend quoth he: he spake it
And urg'd it twice together; did he not?

Serv. He did.

Erton. And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me.
As who should say,-I would, thou wert the man 50
That would divorce this terror from my heart;
Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go;
I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exe.
SCENE V.

The Prison at Pomfret Castle.

Enter King Richard.

K. Rich, I have been studying how to compare
This prison, where I live, unto the world;
And, for because the world is populous,

That is, excuse me.

And here have I the daintiness of ear,
To hear time broke in a disorder'd string;
But, for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke,
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs,they jar,
Their watches to mine eyes, the outward watch',
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and groans,
55 Shew minutes, times, and hours:-but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his jack o' the clock.
This music mads me, let it sound no more;
For, though it hath holp madmen to their wits,
50fn me, it seems, it will make wise men mad.

2 The abbot of Westminster was an ecclesiastic; but the brother-in-law meant was John duke of Exeter and earl of Huntingdon (own brother to king Richard II.) and who had married with the lady Elizabeth, sister of Henry of Bolingbroke. By the word I suppose is meant the Scriptures. To jur probably here means, to make that noise which is called ticking. Watch seems to be used in a double sense, for a quantity of time, and for the instrument which measures time.

4

i, e. I strike for him.

Yet,

KING RICHARD II.

That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy fierce

[land. Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own · Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; 5Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. [Dies.

Exton. As full of valour as of royal blood: Both have I spilt; Oh, would the deed were good! For now the devil, that told me-I did well, 10 Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell. This dead king to the living king I'll bear;Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt.

Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. 25
K. Rich. So proud, that Bolingbroke was on his

30

That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him;
Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,
(Since pride must have a fall) and break the neck
Of that proud man, that did usurp his back?
Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spur-gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing Bolingbroke.
Enter Keeper with a dish.
Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
[To the Groom. 40
K.Rich. If thou love me,'tis time thou wert away.
Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart
[Exit.
shall say.

Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to?
K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou wert wont to do. 45
Keep. My lord, I dare not; Sir Pierce of Exton,
Who late came from the king, commands the

[thee!]

K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and of it. Patience is stale, and I am weary

[Beats the Keep.

Enter Exton, and Servants.

K. Rich. How now? what means death in this

[ment. 55 Villain, thine own hand yields thy death's instru [Snatching a weapon, and killing one. Gothou,andfill another room in hell.[Kills another [Exton strikes him down. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,

1i. e. is as strange and uncommon as a brooch, which is now no longer worn. 3 Jaunce and jaunt were synonimous words. grave, gloomy villain, who brings, &c.