Rue, ev'n for ruth, here fhortly shall be feen,
In the remembrance of a weeping Queen.
Enter as to the Parliament, Bolingbroke, Aumerle, Northumberland, Percy, Fitzwater, Surrey, Bishop of Carlife, Abbot of Westminster, Herald, Officers, and Bagot.
Boling.CAU Bagot forth; now freely speak thy mind,
What thou doft know of nobleGlofter's death: Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd The bloody office of his timeless end.
Bagot. Then fet before my face the Lord Aumerle. Boling. Coufin, ftand forth, and look upon that man. Bagot. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue Scorns to unfay what it hath once deliver❜d.
In that dead time when Glo'fter's death was plotted,
I heard you fay, Is not my arm of length,
That reachetb from the restful English Court
As far as Calais to my uncle's bead?
Amongst much other talk, that very time,
I heard you fay, you rather had refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand crowns,
Than Bolingbroke return to England; adding
Withal how bleft this land would be in this
Your coufin's death,
Aum. Princes, and noble Lords!
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 feal of death,
That marks thee out for hell. Thou lieft, Bagot,
And I'll maintain, what thou haft faid is false,
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To ftain the temper of my knightly fword.
Boling. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
VOL. IV,
In all this prefence that hath mov'd me so.
Fitzw. If that thy valour stand on sympathies,
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair fun, that fhews me where thou ftand'ft,
I heard thee fay, and vauntingly thou spak'ft it,
That thou wert cause of noble Glo'fter's death.
If thou deny'ft it, twenty times thou lieft,
And I will turn thy falfhood to thy heart
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
Aum. Thou dar'ft not, coward, live to fee the day.
Fitzw. 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 th'extreameft point
Of mortal breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'ft.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And never brandifh more revengeful fteel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
Who fets me elfe? by heav'n, I'll throw at all.
I have a thousand fpirits in my breaft,
To answer twenty thousand fuch as you.
Surrey. My Lord Fitzwater, I remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
Fitzw. My Lord, 'tis true: you were in prefence then;
And you can witness with me, this is true.
Surrey. As falfe, by heav'n, as heav'n itself is true. Fitzw. Surrey, thou lieft.
Surrey. Difhonourable boy!
That lie fhall lye fo heavy on my fword,
That it fhall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, reft
In earth as quiet, as thy father's fcull.
In proof whereof, there is mine honour's pawn ;
Engage it to the tryal, if thou dar'ft.
Fitzw. How fondly doft thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
And fpit upon him, whilft I say he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
To tie thee to my ftrong 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, didit 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 diff'rences fhall all reft under gage,
"Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, reftor'd again
To all his figniories; when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his tryal.
Carl. That honourable day fhall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
For Jefu Chrift, in glorious chriftian field
Streaming the enfign of the chriftian Crofs,
Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
Then, 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 Chrift,
Under whofe colours he had fought fo long.
Boling. Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Carl. Sure as I live, my Lord.
Boling. Sweet peace conduct his foul
To th' bofom of good Abraham!-Lords appealants,
Your diff'rences fhall all reft under gage,
"Till we affign you to your days of tryal.
SCENE II. Enter York.
York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-pluckt Richard, who with willing foul Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields
To the poffeffion of thy royal hand.
Afcend his throne, defcending now from him,
And long live Henry of that name the Fourth!
Boling. In God's name, I'll afcend the regal throne.
Carl, Marry, heav'n forbid!
Worft in this royal prefence may I speak?
Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
Would God, that any in this noble presence
Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard; then tune nobleness 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 subject ?
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 Majefty,
His Captain, Steward, Deputy elect,
Anointed, crown'd, and planted many years,
Be judg'd by fubject and inferior breath,
And he himself not prefent? oh, forbid it,
That in a chriftian climate, fouls refin'd
Should fhew fo hainous, black, obscene a dead?
I speak to subjects, and a subject fpeaks,
Stirr'd up by heav'n, 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 prophefie,
The blood of English fhall 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, tamultuous 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.
Oh, if you rear this house against this house,
It will the wofulleft divifion prove,
That ever fell upon this curfed earth.
Prevent, refift it, let it not be so,
Left children's children cry against you, woe!
North. Well have you argu'd, Sir; and for your pains,
Of capital treason we arreft you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge,
To keep him fafely 'till his day of tryal.
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
Without fufpicion.
York. I will be his conduct.
Boling. Lords, you that are here under our arreft, Procure your fureties for your days of answer: Little are we beholden to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
SCENE III. Enter King Richard and York.
K. Rich. Alack, why am I fent for to a King,
Before I have fhook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
T' 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 thefe 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. To do what fervice am I fent for hither?
York. To do that office of thine own good will,
Which tired Majefty did make thee offer:
The refignation of thy ftate and crown..
K. Rich. Give me the crown. Here, coufin, feize the
Here, on this fide my hand, on that fide thine. †
❤ ----in twelve thousand, none.
God fave the King! will no man fay, Amen?
Am I both prieft and clerk? well then, Amen.
God fave the King, although I be not he:
And yet Amen, if heav'n doth think him me.
To do what fervice, &c.
----on that fide thine,
Now is this golden crown like a deep well,
That owes two buckets, filling one another,
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unfeen, and full of water:
That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilft you mount up on high.
Boling. I thought you had been willing to refign.
K. Rich. My crown I am, but Aill my griefs are mine:
You may my glories, and my ftate depofe,
But not my griefs, ftill am I King of thofe
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