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And challenge law: attorneys are denied me : And therefore personally I lay my claim

To my inheritance of free descent.

North. The noble duke hath been too much abused.

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 oath.

York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms;
I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
Because my power is weak, and all ill left :
But, if I could, by Him that gave me life,
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 loth to break our country's laws.
Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are:
Things past redress are now with me past care.
[Exeunt

SCENE IV.-A Camp in Wales.

Enter SALISBURY and a Welsh Captain.

Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd 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 Welsh-

man:

The king reposeth all his confidence

In thee.

Cap. '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-faced moon looks bloody on the earth,
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap,-
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 assured Richard their king is dead.

Sal. Ah, Richard! with the eyes of heavy mind,

I see thy glory, like a shooting star,

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. [Exit.

~wwwww

ACT III.

SCENE I.-Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol.

Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, WILLOUGHBY, Ross: Officers behind with BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners.

B

Bolingbroke.

RING forth these men.

Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls

(Since presently your souls must part your bodies,)

With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity: yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here, in the view of men,
I will unfold some causes of your deaths.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigured 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.

Myself-a prince, by fortune of my birth:
Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
Till you did make him misinterpret me,-
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment:
Whilst you have fed upon my seignories,
Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods;
From mine own windows torn my household coat,
Razed 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

to me,

Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewell. Green. My comfort is, that Heaven will take our souls,

And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boling. My lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.

[Exeunt NORTH. 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 dispatch'd With letters of your love to her at large. Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.-Come, lords, away;

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 they this at hand?

Aum. Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air,

After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep
for joy,

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 ravenous 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;

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