Heralds, Two Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants.
SCENE, difperfedly, in England and Wales.

This history, however, comprises little more than the two last years of this prince. The action of the drama begins with Bolingbroke's appealing the duke of Norfolk, on an accusation of high treason, which fell out in the year 1398; and it clofes with the murder of king Richard at Pomfret-castle towards the end of the year 1400, or the beginning of the enfuing year. 2 Aumerle is the French for what we now call Albemarle, which is a town in Normandy. 3 Mr. Steevens fays, it ought to be Lord Berkley, as there was no Earl Berkley 'till fome ages after. 4 Now fpelt Roos, one of the duke

of Rutland's titles. 5 i. e. bond,

Mowb

Morub. Each day still better other's happiness ;|
Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
Add an immortal title to your crown!

K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but
flatters us,

As well appeareth by the cause you come;
Namely, to appeal each other of high treason.-
Coufin of Hereford, what dost thou object

Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?

Or chivalrous design of knightly trial:
And, when I mount, alive may I not light,
If I be traitor, or unjustly fight!

[charge?
K. Rich. What doth our coufin lay to Mowbray's
5 It must be great, that can inherit us 3
So much as of a thought of ill in him. [true;-

Boling. Look, what I faid, my life fhall prove it That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles, In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers;

Boling. First (heaven be the record to my fpeech!) 10 The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,

In the devotion of a fubject's love,

Tendering the precious fafety of my prince,
And free from other misbegotten hate,
Come I appellant to this princely presence.-
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak,
My body fhall make good upon this earth,
Or my divine foul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor, and a mifcreant;
Too good to be fo, and too bad to live;
Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier feem the clouds that in it fly.
Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
And wifh, (fo please my sovereign) ere I move,
What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn 1 fword

may prove.

[zeal:

Like a falfe traitor, and injurious villain.
Befides I fay, and will in battle prove,-
Or here, or elsewhere, to the furtheft verge
That ever was furvey'd by English eye,—
15 That all the treafons, for these eighteen years
Complotted and contrived in this land,

Fetch from falfeMowbray their first head and spring.
Further I fay, and further will maintain
Upon his bad life, to make all this good,--

20 That he did plot the duke of Glofter's death;
Suggeft his foon-believing adversaries;
And, confequently, like a traitor coward, [blood;
Sluic'd out his innocent foul through ftreams of
Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's cries,
25 Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
To me, for juftice, and rough chastisement;
And, by the glorious worth of my defcent,
This arm fhall do it, or this life be spent.

K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution foars!➡ 30 Thomas of Norfolk, what say'ft thou to this?

Mowb. O, let my fovereign turn away his face,
And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
"Till I have told this flander of his blood,
How God, and good men, hate so foul a liar. [ears:
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes, and
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
(As he is but my father's brother's fon)
Now by my fceptre's awe I make a vow,
Such neighbour nearness to our facred blood
40 Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize
The unftooping firmness of my upright foul:
He is our fubject, Mowbray, so art thou;
Free fpeech, and fearless, I to thee allow.

Mowb. Let not my cold words here accuse my
'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,
The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain;
The blood is hot, that must be cool'd for this.
Yet can I not of such tame patience boast,
As to be hush'd, and nought at all to say:
First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me, 35
From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
Which elfe would post, until it had return'd
Thefe terms of treafon doubled down his throat.
Setting afide his high blood's royalty,
And let him be no kinfman to my liege,
I do defy him, and I spit at him;
Call him-a flanderous coward, and a villain:
Which to maintain, I would allow him odds;
And meet him, were I ty'd to run a-foot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Or any other ground inhabitable
Where ever Englishman durft fet his foot.
Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,-
By all my hopes, moft falfely doth he lie.
Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw

my gage,

Disclaiming here the kindred of a king;
And lay afide my high blood's royalty,
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except:
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength,
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop;
By that, and all the rites of knighthood elfe,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have fpoke, or thou canst worse devife.

Mozub. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart,
45 Through the false passage of thy throat, thou lieft!
Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais,
Difburs'd I to his highness' foldiers :
The other part referv'd I by confent;
For that my fovereign liege was in my debt,

50 Upon remainder of a dear account,

Since laft I went to France, to fetch his queen:
Now fwallow down that lie.-For Glofter's

death,

I flew him not; but, to mine own disgrace,
55 Neglected my fworn duty in that cafe.-
For you, my noble lord of Lancaster,
The honourable father to my foe,-
Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
A trespass that doth vex my grieved foul:

Mob. I take it up; and, by that fword I swear, 60 But, ere I laft receiv'd the facrament,

Which gently lay'd my knighthood on my shoulder,
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

I did confefs it; and exactly begg'd
Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it.

* Meaning, his fword drawn in a right or just cause.

2 i. e. not habitable. 3 i. e. poffefs us.

This is my fault: As for the reft appeal'd,
It iffues from the rancour of a villain,
A recreant and most degenerate traitor :
Which in myself I boldly will defend;
And interchangeably hurl down my gage
Upon this over-weening traitor's foot,
To prove myself a loyal gentleman

Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bofom :
In hafte whereof, most heartily I pray
Your highness to affign our trial-day.

K. Rich. We were not born to fue, but to com-
mand:

Which fince we cannot do to make you friends,
Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,

5 At Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day;
There fhall your fwords and lances arbitrate
The fwelling difference of your settled hate;
Since we cannot atone you, you shall see
Juftice decide the victor's chivalry.---

[me; 10 Lord marshal, command our officers at arms
Be ready to direct these home-alarms. [Exeunte

K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by
Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
This we prescribe, though no physician;
Deep malice makes too deep incifion :
Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed;
Our doctors fay, this is no time to bleed.-
Good uncle, let this end where it begun;
We'll calm the duke of Norfolk, you your fon.
Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age:
Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's gage.
K. Ricb. And, Norfolk, throw down his.
Gaunt. When, Harry? when?
Obedience bids, I should not bid again.

K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there
is no boot'.

15

S CE N E

The Duke of Lancaster's Palace.

II.

Enter Gaunt, and Dutchess of Glofter.

Gaunt. Alas! the part4 I had in Glofter's blood
Doth more folicit me, than your exclaims,
To ftir against the butchers of his life.
But, fince correction lieth in those hands,
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
20 Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Dutch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
Edward's feven fons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as feven phials of his facred blood,

[foot: 25
Morb. Myfelf I throw, dread fovereign, at thy
My life thou fhalt command, but not my fhame:
The one, my duty owes; but my fair name,
(Defpight of death, that lives upon my grave)
To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
I am difgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here;
Pierc'd to the foul with flander's venom'd spear;
The which no balm can cure, but his heart-blood
Which breath'd this poison..

K. Rich. Rage must be withstood:
Give me his gage :-Lions make leopards tame.
Mob. Yea, but not change their spots: take
but my fhame,

And I refign my gage. My dear dear lord,
The purest treasure mortal times afford,
Is-fpotlefs reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up cheft
Is a bold fpirit in a loyal breast.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one;
Take honour from me, and my life is done:
Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
In that I live, and for that will I die.

K. Rich. Coufin, throw down your gage; do you

Or feven fair branches, springing from one root:
Some of those seven are dry'd by nature's course,
Some of those branches by the deftinies cut.
30 But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloster,—
One phial full of Edward's facred blood,
One flourishing branch of his most royal root,-
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;
Is hack'd down, and his fummer leaves all faded,
35 By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe.

40

45

50

Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that

womb,

That metal, that felf-mould, that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man; and though thou liv'st, and
breath'ft,

Yet art thou flain in him: thou doft confent
In fome large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou feest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair:
In fuffering thus thy brother to be flaughter'd,
Thou fhew'ft the naked path-way to thy life,
Teaching ftern murder how to butcher thee:
That which in mean men we entitle-patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breafts.
What fhall I fay? to fafeguard thine own life,
The best way is to venge my Glofter's death.

Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's
substitute,

55 His deputy anointed in his fight,

Shall I feem creft-fallen in my father's fight?
Or with pale beggar face 3 impeach my height
Before this out-dar'd daftard? Ere my tongue
Shall wound mine honour with fuch feeble wrong,
Or found fo base a parle, my teeth shall tear
The flavish motive of recanting fear;
And fpit it bleeding, in his high difgrace,
Where fhame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's 60
face.
[Exit Gaunt.]

Hath caus'd his death: the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minifter.

Dutch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself?
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and
defence.

i.e. no advantage in delay or refufal. 2 Baffled, means, treated with the greatest ignominy imaginable. my relation of confanguinity to Glofter.

in this, as has been noted in a former place, 3 i. e. with a face of fupplication. 4 i. c.

Dutch.

Dutch. Why then, I will. Farewel, old Gaunt ![
Thou go'ft to Coventry, there to behold
Our coufin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:
O, fit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,
That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
Or if misfortune mifs the first career,

Be Mowbray's fins fo heavy in his bofom,
That they may break his foaming courfer's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lifts,
A caitiff recreant to my coufin Hereford !
Farewel, old Gaunt; thy fometime brother's wife
With her companion grief muft end her life.

Gaunt. Sifter, farewel: I muft to Coventry:
As much good stay with thee, as go with me!
Dutch. Yet one word more ;-Grief boundeth
where it falls,

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:
I take my leave before I have begun;
For forrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York.
Lo, this is all:-Nay, yet depart not so;
Though this be all, do not fo quickly go;

I shall remember more. Bid him-Oh, what?-
With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
Alack, and what fhall good old York there fee,
But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
And what hear there for welcome, but my groans?
Therefore commend me; let him not come there,
To feek out forrow, that dwells every where :
Defolate, defolate, will I hence, and die,
The laft leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

And by the grace of God, and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
5 Trumpets found. Enter Bolingbroke, appellant, in

armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
Both who he is, and why he cometh hither
Thus plated in habiliments of war;

10 And formally according to our law

Depofe him in the juftice of his caufe.

Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'f thou hither,

Before king Richard, in his royal lifts? [To Boling
15 Against whom comeft thou?and what's thy quarrel?
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and
Derby,

Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
20 To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour,
In lifts, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk,
That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,

25

30

[Exeunt.

35

Enter the Lord Marshal and Aumerle.
Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?
Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
Mar. The duke of Norfolk, fprightfully and bold,
Stays but the fummons of the appellant's trumpet.40
Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd,

and stay

For nothing but his majefty's approach. [Flourish.
The trumpets found, and the King enters with Gaunt,
Bufoy, Bagot, and others: when they are fet, enter 45
the Duke of Norfolk in armour.

K.Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion
The caufe of his arrival here in arms:
Afk him his name; and orderly proceed
To fwear him in the juftice of his caufe..

thou art,

To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me;
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

Mar. On pain of death, no perfon be fo bold,
Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lifts;
Except the marshal, and fuch officers
Appointed to direct thefe fair defigns.

Boling. Lord marshal, let me kifs my fovereign's

Coufin of Hereford, as thy caufe is right,
So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
Farewel, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead

Boling. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, ifl be gor'd with Mowbray's fpear:
As confident, as is the faulcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.-
My loving lord, I take my leave of you ;-
50Of you, my noble coufin, lord Aumerle;-
Not fick, although I have to do with death;
But lufty, young, and chearly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest laft, to make the end most sweet:
Oh thou, the earthly author of my blood,-
[To Gaunt
Whofe youthful fpirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up
To reach at victory above my head,-
60 Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy bleffings fteel my lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,

Mar. In God's name, and the king's, fay who
[To Mowbray.
And why thou com'ft, thus knightly clad in arms;
Against what man thou com'ft, and what thy quar-
Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath, [rel: 55
And fo defend thee heaven, and thy valour!

1 Mr. Steevens obferves on this paffage, that "waxen may mean either foft, and confequently penetrable, or flexible. The brigandines or coats of mail, then in ufe, were compofed of small pieces of steel quilted over one another, and yet fo flexible as to accommmodate the drefs they form to every motion of the body.", And