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men:

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lets now,

Bespake them thus,-! thank you, country- Duch. Why, what is it, my lord?

York. Give me my boots, I say ; saddle my And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

horse:Duch. Alas, poor Richard ! where rides he Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, the while?

I will appeach the villain. [Exit Servant York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, Duch. What's the matter? After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, York. Peace, foolish woman. Ar: idly beni* on him that enters next,

Duch. I will not peace:- What is the matter, Thaking his prattle to be tedious :

son? Even so, or with much more contempt, men's Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more

[him; Than my poor life must answer.
Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save Duch. Thy life answer!
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;

Re-enter Servant, with Boots.
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook oft,- York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the
His face still combating with tears and smiles,

king. The badges of his grief and patience,

Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.--Poor boy, thou 'That had not God, for some strong purpose,

art amaz'd: steel'd

[melted, Hence, villain; never more come in my sight.The hearts of men, they must perforce, have

[To the Servant. And barbarism itself have pitied him.

York. Give me my boots, I say: But heaven hath a hand in these events; Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? To whose high will we bound our calm contents. Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, Have we more sons? or are we like to have ? Whose state and hononr I for ayet allow. Is not my teemingt date drunk up with time?

And wili thou pluck my fair son from mine age, Enter AUMERLE.

And rob me of a happy mother's naine? Dach. Here comes my son Aumerle. Is he not like thee? is he not thine own? York. Aumerle that was;

York. Thou fond mad woman, But that is lost, for being Richard's friend, Wilt thou conceal this dark cop spiracy? And, madam, you must call him Rutland now: A dozen of them here have ta’en the sacrament, I am in parliament pledge for his truth, And interchangeably set down their hands, And lasting fealty to the new-made king. To kill the king at Oxford. Duch. Welcome, my son : Who are the vio- Duch. He shall be none;

(him? (spring? We'll keep him here : Then what is that to That strew the green lap of the new-come York. Away, Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care Fond woman! were he twenty times my son, not:

I would appeach him. God knows, I had as lief be none, as one. Duch. Hadst thou groan'd for him, York. Well, bear you well in this new spring As I have done, thou d'st be more pitiful. of time,

But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime, That I have been disloyal to thy bed, What news from Oxford ? 'hold those justs: And that he is a bastard, not thy son: [mind: and triumphs ?

Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that Aum. For anght I know, my lord, they do. He is as like thee as a man may be, York. You will be there, I know.

Not like to me, or any of my kin, Anm. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. And yet I love him. York. What seal is that, that hangs without York. Make way, unruly woman. (Fait. thy bosom?

Duch. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.

horse ; Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing.

Spur, post; and get before him to the king, York. No matter then who sees it:

And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. I'll not be long behind; though I bc old,

Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me; I doubt not but to ride as fast as York: It is a matter of small consequence,

And never will I rise up from the ground, Which for some reasons I would not have seen. Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee: Away; York. Which for some reasons, Sir, I mean Begone.

(Exeunt. to see. I fear, I fear,

SCENE III.-Windsor.- A Room in the Castle. Duch. What should you fear? [into 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd Enter BOLINGBROKE as King ; Percy, and other For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day.

LORDS. York. Bound to himself? what doth be with

Boling. Can no man tell of my unthristy son? a bond

”Tis full three months, since I did see him That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.

last :-Boy, let me see the writing.

If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may I would to God, niy lords, he might be found :

not show it. York. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say. For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,

Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, [Snatches it, und reuds. With unrestrained loose companions; Treason ! soul treason!-villain! traitor! slave! Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, Duch. What is the matter, my lord :

And beat our watch, and rob our passengers York. Ho! who is within there? [Enter a while he, young, wanton, and effeminate bog, Servant.) Saddle my horse.

Takes on the point of honour, to support
God for his mercy! what treachery is here! So dissolute a crew.
Carelessly turned

+ Ever
i l'ults and tournamenta.

* Perpiexed, confourided. Breeding.

Darcy. Wly lord, some two days since I saw | Thy overflow of good converts to bad;
the prince;

And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. This deadly blot in thy digressing" son.
Boling. And what said the gallant?

York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; Perey. His answer was,-be would unto the And he shall spend mine honour with hig stews;

shame, And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. And wear it as a favour; and with that Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies: Boling. As dissolute as desperate ; yet, Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath, through both

The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. I see some sparkles of a better hope,

Duch. [Within.) What ho, my liege! for
Which elder days may happily bring forth.

God's sake let me in.
But who comes here?

Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes
Enter AUMERLE, hastily.

this eager cry?

Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king, dum. Where is the king?

'tis I.
Boling. What means

Speak with me, pity me, open the door;
Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? | A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.
Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech Boling. Our scene is alter'd, -from a serious
your majesty,

thing,
To have some conference with your grace alone. And now chang'd to The Beggur and the King.
Boling: Withdraw yourselves, and leave us My dangerous cousin, let your mother in;
here alone.

I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin. [Exeunt PERCY and Lords. York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, What is the matter with our cousin now? More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may. Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound; earth,

(Kneels. This, let alone, will all the rest confound.
My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Vóless à pardon, ere I rise, or speak.

Enter DUCHESS.
Boling. Intended, or coinmitted, was this Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted
If but the first, how heinous ere it be, (fault ?

man;
To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.

Love, loving not itself, none other can. Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou the key,

maket here? That no man enter till my tale be done. Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear ? Boling. Have thy desire.

Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, [AUMERLE locks the door.

gentle liege.

[K'neels.
York. (Within.] My liege, beware ; look to Boling. Rise up, good aunt,
thyself;

Duch. Not yet, 1 thee beseech:
Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. For erer will I kneel upon my knees,
Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe.

And never see day that the happy sees,

[Drawing. Till thou give joy, until thou híd me joy, Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;

By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Thou hast no cause to fear,

Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend niy York. [Within.) Open the door, secure, fool

knee.

[Kneels. hardy king :

York. Against them both, my true joints Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?

bended be.

[K'neels. Open the door, or I will break it open. Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! [BOLINGBROKE opens the door, Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his

face;

(jest; Enter YORK.

His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak; His words come from his mouth, ours from our Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,

breast: That we may arm us to encounter it.

He prays but faintly, and would be denied ; York. Peruse this writing here, and thou We pray with heart, and soul, and all beshalt know

side: The treason that my haste forbids me show. His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy pro- Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they mise past:

grow; I do repent me; read not my name there, His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ; My heart is not confederate with my hand. Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. [have York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it Our prayers do out.pray his; then let them down.

That mercy, which true prayers ought to have I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king: Boling. Good aunt, stand up. Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: Duch. Nay, do not say-stand up; Forget to pity hin, lest thy pity prove

But, pardon, first; and afterwards stand up. A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, Boling. () heinous, strong, and bold conspi- Pardon—should be the first word of ths

speech. (.oyal father of a treacherous son !

I never long'd to hear a word till now; Thou sheer," imnjaculate, and silver fountain, Say–pardon, king; let pity teach thee how: From whence this stream through muddy pas- The word is short, but not so short as sweet; sages,

No word like pardon, for kings' mouths sa Hath held his current, and defil'd himself!

meet. • Transparent

* Transgressing. + An old ballad

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racy!

me.

York. Speak it in French, king; say, par- A generation of still-breeding thoughts, donnez moy.*

And these same thoughts people this little Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to de

world ;* stroy?

In humours, like the people of this world, Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, For no thought is contented. The better That set'st the word itself against the word !

sort,Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land; As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd The chopping French we do not understand. With scruples, and do set the word itself Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue Against the word : there:

As thus,-Come little ones; and then again, Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; It is as hard to come, as for a camel That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do To thread the posternt of a needle's eye. pierce,

Thought tending to ambition, they do plot Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearse. Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails Boling. Good aunt, stand up.

May tear a passage through the flinty ribs Duch. I do not sue to stand,

Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls ; Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon Thoughts tending to content, flatter them

selves, Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again; Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars, Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain, Who, sitting in the stocks refuge their But makes one pardon strong.

shame,Boling. With all my heart

That many have, and others must sit there : I pardon him.

And in this thought they find a kind of ease, Duch. A god on earth thou art.

Bearing their own misfortune on the back Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,-|Of such as have before endur'd the like, and the abbot,

Thus play I, in one person, many people, With all the rest of that consorted crew, And none contented: Sometimes ain I king; Destruction straight shall dog them at the Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar, heels.

And so I am : Then crashing penury. Good uncle, help to order several powerst

Persuades me I was better when a king; To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are: Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by, They shall not live within this world, I swear, Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, But I will have them, if I once know where. And straight am nothing :-But, whate'er Uncle, farewell,--and cousin too, adieu : Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, (I am, Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd true.

With being nothing.-Music do I hear? Duch. Come, my old son ;-I pray God make

[Music. thee new.

(Exeunt. Ha, ha! keep time:-How sour sweet mu

sic is, SCENE IV.

When time is broke, and no proportion kert!

So is it in the music of men's lives.
Enter Exton, and a SERVANT. And here have I the daintiness of ear,
Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what But, for the concord of my state and time,

To check time broke in a disorder'd string; words he spake? Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.

Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. Was it not so?

For now hath time made me his numb'ring Sero. Those were his very words.

clock : Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, it twice,

they jars And urg'd it twice together; did he not?

Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward Serv. He did. Exton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

watch, As who should say, -I would, thou wert the Now, Sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is,

[man Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. That would divorce this terror from my heart; Are 'clamorous groans, that strike upon my Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's

heart, go; I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.

Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and

groans,

[Exeunt. Show minutes, times, and hours :--but my SCENE V.-Pomfret.-The Dungeon of the Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy;

time Castle.

While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the : Enter King RICHARD.

clock.ll

.

This music mads me, let it sound no more; K. Rich. I have been studying how I may For, though it have holpe madmen to their compare

wits, This prison, where I live, unto the world: In me, it seems it will make wise men mad. And, for because the world is populous, Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me! And'here is not a creature but myself, Por 'tis a sign of love, and love to Richard I cannot do it;-Yet I'll hammer it out. Is a strange brooch ( in this all-hating world. My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;

* His own bod. My soul, the father: and these two beget

Holy scripture.
Little gate.

Tick.

ll Strike for hin, like the figure of a man on a bell. Escue me + Forces.

1 An ornamented buckle, and also a jewel in generai.

on me;

Enter GROOM.

Hath with the king's blood stain'w the king's

own land. Groom. Hail, royal prince ! K. Ricit. Thanks, noble peer;

Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.

high; What art thou ? and how comest thou hither,

Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.

(Dies. Where no man never comes, but that sad dog That brings me food, to make misfortune live? Both have I spilt; 0, would the deed were

Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood : Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable,

good! king, When thou wert king ; who, travelling to says that this deed is chronicled in hell.

For now the devil, that told me I did well, wards York,

This dead king to the living king I'll bear; With much ado, at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometimes* master's face.

Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. 0, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld,

[Exeunt. In London streets, that coronation day, When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!

SCENE VI.-Windsor.- A Room in the Castle. The horse, that thou so often hast bestrid; Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, and YORK, with I'hat horse, that I so carefully have dress'd!

LORDS and ATTENDANTS. K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,

Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news Huw went he under him?

we hear Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the Is—that the rebels have consum’d with fire ground.

Our town of Cicester in Glostershire; K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on But whether they be ta’en, or slain, we hear his back!

not. That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping Welcome, my lord : What is the news?

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. him. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all down,

happiness. (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the The pext news is, -I have to London sent neck

The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Of that proud man that did usurp his back ?

Kent: Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,

The manner of their taking may appear Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,

At large discoursed in this paper here. Was born to bear? I was not made a horse;

[Presenting a paper. And yet I bear a burden like an ass,

Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for Spur-gall’d, and tir’d, by jauncingt Boling. And to thy worth 'will add right worthy gains.

broke.
Enter KEEPER, with a Dish.

Enter FITZWATER.

Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer

London stay.

[To the GROOM. The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely; K. Rich. It thou love me, 'tis time thou wert Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, away.

That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be heart shall say.

Erit.

forgot; Keep. My lord, will’t please you to fall to? Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.

Enter Percy, with the Bishop of CARLISLE Keep. My lord, I dare not; Sir Pierce of Exton, who

Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of West. Lately came from the king, commands the minster, contrary.

With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, Hath yielded up his body to the grave; and thee!

But here is Carlisle living, to abide Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.

[Beats the Keeper. Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom :Keep. Help, help, help!

Choose out some secret place, some reverend

room,

More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; Enter Exton, and Servants, armed.

So, as thou liv’st in peace, die free from K. Rich. How now? what means death in For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,

strife; this rude assault ? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's in- High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. strument.

Enter Exton, with ATTENDANTS bearing a [Snatching a weupon and killing one.

Coffin. Go thou, and fill another room in hell.

[He kills another, then Exton strikes Exton. Great king, within this coffin I prehim down.

sent That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire, Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies That staggers thus 'my person.-Exton, thy The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, fierce hand

Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought.

Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou + Jaunting.

hast wrought

• Former.

A deed of siander with thy fatal hand, And never show thy head by day nor light.. Upon my head, and all this famous land.

Lords, I protest, my soul is ful of woe, Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did That blood should sprinkle me, to make mo I this deed,

grow: Boling. They love not poison that do poison Come, morrn with me for what I do lamer., ated,

And put on sullen black incontinent:* Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead, I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, I hate the murderer, Love Lim murdered. To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:The guilt of conscience take thou for Ly la- March sad'y after; grace my mournings vour,

here, But neither my good word, noz princely favour: In weeping after this untimely bier. (Bxeunt. With Cain go wander through the shade of niglase

+ Got

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