Act 2. Scene 4.]

Boling. My gracious uncle!
York. Tut, tut!

KING RICHARD II.

Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle :
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word—grace,
In an ungracious mouth, is but prophane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But more than why,-Why have they dared to
march

So
miles upon
her peaceful bosom ;
many
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
And ostentation of despised arms?

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;
that do abet him in this kind,
And you,

5 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.
10 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
15 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.

20 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;

Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,
Rescu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
Oh, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee,
And minister correction to thy fault!
Boling. My gracious uncle,let me know my fault;
On' what condition stands it, and wherein?
York. Even in condition of the worst degree,-25
In gross rebellion, and detested treason:
Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come,
Before the expiration of thy time,
[ford;
In braving arms against thy sovereign.
Boling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Here-30
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
You are my father, for, methinks, in you
I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father!
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was Ï born?
If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman;
Had you first dy'd, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay. 45
I am deny'd to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters patents give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and sold:
And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd.
What would have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law: Attornies are deny'd me;
And therefore personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.

you

135

40

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.

2S CENE IV.
In Wales.

[Exeunt.

Enter Salisbury and a Captain.
Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid 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 Welshman;
The king reposeth all his confidence in thee. [stay.
Cap. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not
The bay-trees in our country all are wither'd,
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven:
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
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:

50 These signs forerun the death of kings-
Farwel; our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well assur'd, Richard their king is dead. [Exit.
Sal. Ah, Richard! with 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.

[abus'd.
North. The noble duke hath been too much
Ross. It stands your grace upon, to do him right. 55
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:

60

[Excunt.

1 On for in. 2 Dr. Johnson conjectures that this dialogue was probably the second scene in the ensuing act, and advises the reader to insert it there.

ACT

And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul 20

Myself-a prince, by fortune of my birth;
Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
Tili 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 signories,
Dispark'd' my parks, and fell'd my forest woods;
From mine own windows torn my household coat, 30
Raz'd out my impress', leaving me no sign,-
Save men's opinions, and my living blood,-
To shew the world I am a gentleman. [this,
This, and much more, much more than twice all
Condemns you to the death:-See them deliver'd 35

Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewel. Green. My comfort is, that heaven will take 40 our souls,

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

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,

To dispark is to throw down the hedges of an enclosure. It was then the practice to anneal the arms of the family in the windows of the house. The impress was a device or motto. Theobald is of opinion (and we think his reasons for thinking so are just), that this line is an interpolation. *Here, Dr. Johnson thinks, may be properly inserted the last scene of the second act.

Act 3. 8cene 2.1

KING RICHARD II:

Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,-
Who all this while hath revell'd in the night,
Whilst we were wand'ring with the antipodes,-
Shall see us rising in our throne the east,
His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
Not able to endure the sight of day,
But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Can wash the balm from an anointed king;
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord:

For every man that Bolingbroke hath prest,
To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the
right.

Enter Salisbury.

Cry, woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay;
The worst is death, and death will have his day,
Scroop. Glad am I, that your highness is so arm'd
To bear the tidings of calamity.

5 Like an unseasonable stormy day,

Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
As it the world were all dissolv'd to tears;
So high above his limits swells the rage
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
10 With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel.
Whitebeardshavearm'dtheir thin and hairlessscalps
Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
Strive to speak big, and clasp their female joints
In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown:
15 Thy very beadsmen' learn to bend their bows
Of double-fatal' yew against thy state;
Yea, distaff women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell. [ill.
K. Rich, Too well, too well, thou tell'st a tale so
Where is the earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
pay for it.
25 If we prevail, their heads shall
I warrant,they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
Scroop. Peace have they made with him, in-
[demption!
deed, my lord.

Welcome, my lord; How far off lies your power? 20
Sal. Nor near, nor further off, my gracious lord,
Than this weak arm: Discomfort guides my

tongue,

And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
One day too late, I fear, my noble lord,
Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth:
Oh, call back yesterday, bid time return,
And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; 30
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispers'd, and fled.
Aum. Comfort, my liege; Why looks your
[men
grace so pale?
K. Rich. But now the blood of twenty thousand 35
Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
And 'till so much blood thither come again,

Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;
For time hath set a blot upon my pride.

[are. 40

Aum. Comfort, my liege; remember who you
K. Rich. I had forgot myself: am I not king?
Awake, thou cowardly majesty! thou sleepest.
Is not the king's name forty thousand names?
Arm, arm, my name; a puny subject strikes
At thy great glory.-Look not to the ground,
Ye favourites of a king; Are we not high?
High be our thoughts: I know, my uncle York
Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who
Comes here?

[liege,
Enter Scroop.
Scroop. More health and happiness betide my
Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him!
K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart prepar'd;
The worst is worldly loss, thou canst unfold.
Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care;
And what loss is it, to be rid of care?
Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so.
Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend;
They break their faith to God, as well as us:

K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damned without re Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man! [heart! Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas! Would they make peace? Terrible hell make war Upon their spotted souls for this offence!

Scroop. Sweet love, I see, changing his property, Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate:— Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made With heads, and not with hands; those whom you

curse,

Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound,
And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground.
Aum. Is Bushy, Green, and the earl of Wilt-

shire dead?

Scroop. Yea,all of them at Bristol lost their heads. Aum. Where is the duke my father with his [speak:

power?

K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man
Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
50 Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
Let's chuse executors, and talk of wills:-
And yet not so,--for what can we bequeath,
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
55 And nothing cau we call our own but death;
And that small model' of the barren earth,
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heaven's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of kings:-
60 How some have been depos'd, some slain in war;
Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd;
Some poison'd by their wives, some sleeping kill'd;

The king's beadsmen were his chaplains.
and the wood is employed for instruments of death,

2 Called so, because the leaves of the yew are poison, 3i. e. mould. All

All murder'd:-For within the hollow crown,
That rounds the mortal temples of the king,
Keeps Death his court: and there the antic' sits
Scoffing his state, and grinning at his pomp;
Allowing him a breath, a little scene

To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,—
As if this flesh, which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable; and humour'd thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Bores through his castle wall, and-farewell king!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence; throw away respect,
Tradition', form, and ceremonious duty,

For you have but mistook me all this while :
I live on bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends;-Subjected thus,

How can you say to me-I am a king?

Carl. My lord, wise men ne'er wail their pre

sent woes,

10

15

20

But presently prevent the ways to wail.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe,
And so your follies fight against yourself.
Fear, and be slam: no worse can come, to fight:25
And fight and die, is death destroying death3;
Where fearing dying, pays death servile breath.

Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him ;
And learn to make a body of a limb.

K. Rich. Thou chid'st me well:-Proud Bo-30
lingbroke, I come

To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
This ague-fit of fear is over-blown;
An easy task it is, to win our own.——
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power
Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
The state and inclination of the day;
So may you by my dull and heavy eye,

My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say,
I play the torturer, by small and small,
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:-
Your uncle York hath join'd with Bolingbroke;
And all your northern castles yielded up;
And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Upon his party.

K. Rich. Thou hast said enough.--
Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
[To Aumerle.

Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
What say you now? what comfort have we now?
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Go, to Flint castle; there I'll pine away;
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
That power I have, discharge; and let them go
To ear the land' that hath some hope to grow,
For I have none:-Let no man speak again
To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
Aum. My liege, one word.

35

K. Rich. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Discharge my followers, let him hence;-Away.
From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair day.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Camp of Bolingbroke, before Flint Castle.
Enter with drums and colours, Bolingbroke,
York, Northumberland, and Attendants.
Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn,
The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed,
With some few private friends upon this coast.
North. The news is very fair and good, my lord;
Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head.
York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland
To say-king Richard:-Alack the heavy day,
When such a sacred king should hide his head!
North. Your grace mistakes; only to be brief,
Left I his title out.

York. The time hath been,

should.

Would you have been so brief with him, he would
Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
For taking so the head', the whole head's length.
Boling. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you
[should,
York. Take not, good cousin, farther than you
Lest you mis-take: The heavens are o'er your head.
Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not
Myself against their will.-But who comes here?
Enter Percy.

Welcome, Harry; what, will not this castle yield?
Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against thy entrance.

Boling. Royally! Why, it contains no king?
Percy. Yes, my good lord,

It doth contain a king; king Richard lies
Within the limits of yon lime and stone;

40 And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop; besides a clergyman
Of holy reverence, who, I cannot learn.
North. Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.
Boling. Noble lord,
[To North.
45 Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Harry of Bolingbroke, on both his knees,
Doth kiss king Richard's hand;

50 And sends allegiance, and true faith of heart,
To his most royal person; hither come
Even at his feet to lay my arms and power;
Provided that, my banishment repeal'd,
And lands restor❜d again, be freely granted:
55 If not, I'll use the advantage of my power,
And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood,
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen ;
The which, how far off from the mind of Boling-
broke
160 It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench

'This alludes to the antic or fool of old farces, whose principal business is to ridicule the graver and more splendid personages. Tradition seems here used for traditional practices. The meaning is, to die fighting, is to return the evil that we suffer, to destroy the destroyers. * i. e. to plough it. "To take the head is, is to take undue liberties.

The

The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land,
My stooping duty tenderly shall shew.
Go, signify as much: while here we march
Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.-
Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
That from this castle's totter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, king Richard and myself should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock
At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark king Richard how he looks. 15
A parle sounded, and answered by another trum-
pet within. Flourish. Enter on the walls King
Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle,
Scroop, and Salisbury.

we stood

Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand,
And by the honourable tomb he swears,
That stands upon thy royal grandsire's bones;
And by the royalties of both your bloods,

5 Currents that spring from one most gracious head;
And by the bury'd hand of warlike Gaunt;
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprising all that may be sworn or said;-
His coming hither hath no farther scope,
10 Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
Enfranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
To faithful service of your majesty.
This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
And as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
K. Rich. Northumberland, say,—thus the king

returns:

His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction:
With all the gracious utterance thou hast,
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends—
25 We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not, [Tolum
To look so poorly, and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die? [words,

30

Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle 'Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful [of mine,

swords.

K. Rich. Oh God! oh God! that e'er this tongue That laid the sentence of dread banishment On yon proud man, should take it off again 35 With words of sooth! Oh, that I were as great As is my grief, or lesser than my name! Or that I could forget what I have been! Or not remember what I must be now! [beat, Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to 40 Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bo[submit?

York. See, see, king Richard doth himself appear, 20
As doth the blushing discontented sun
From out the fiery portal of the east ;
When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent
To dim his glory, and to stain the tract
Of his bright passage to the occident.
Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye,
As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
Controling majesty: Alack, alack, for woe,
That any harm should stain so fair a show!
K. Rich. We are amaz'd; and thus long have
[To North.
To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
Because we thought ourself thy lawful king;
And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
To pay their awful duty to our presence?
If we be not, shew us the hand of God
That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship;
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
Unless he do prophane, steal, or usurp.
And though you think, that all, as you have done,
Have torn their souls, by turning them from us,
And we are barren, and bereft of friends;-
Yet know, my master, God omnipotent,
Is must'ring in his clouds, on our behalf,
Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
Your children yet unborn, and unbegot,
That lift your vassal hands against my head,
And threat the glory of my precious crown.
Tell Bolingbroke (for yond', methinks, he is)
That every stride he makes upon my land,
Is dangerous treason: He is come to ope
The purple testament of bleeding war;
But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill become the flower of England's face';
Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To scarlet indignation, and bedew

Her pasture's grass with faithful English blood.

lingbroke.

K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must he
The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd?
45 The king shall be contented. Must he lose
The name of king? o' God's name, let it go:
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads;
My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage;
My gay apparel, for an alms-man's gown;
50 My gur'd goblets, for a dish of wood;
My sceptre, for a palmer's walking-staff;
My subjects, for a pair of carved saints;
And my large kingdom, for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave :-
55 Or I'll be bury'd in the king's highway,

Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign's head:
For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live;
And, bury'd once, why not upon my head?--

North. The King of heaven forbid, our lord 60 Aumerle, thou weep'st; My tender-hearted

the king

Should so with civil and uncivil arms

Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin,

i.e. the flowery surface of England's soil,

cousin!

We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the suminer corn,

In this place sooth means sweetness or softness.

And