And fend him many years of fun-shine days !— North. No more, but that you read These accufations, and thefe grievous crimes, K. Rich. Muft I do fo? and muft I travel out My weav'd up follies? Gentle Northumberland, Would it not fhame thee, in fo fair a troop, And cracking the ftrong warrant of an oath,— Though fome of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, North. My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles. travel out]-untwist, unfold. - a fort]—a fet, a company. K. Rich. W K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, infulting man, Nor no man's lord, I have no name, no title,No, not that name was given me at the font,But 'tis ufurp'd:-Alack the heavy day, That I have worn fo many winters out, And know not now what name to call myself! Oh, that I were a mockery king of snow, Standing before the fun of Bolingbroke, To melt myself away in water-drops !— [To Boling. Good king-great king-(and yet not greatly good) Boling. Go fome of you, and fetch a looking-glass. Where all my fins are writ, and that's-myself. Enter one, with a glass. Give me that glass, and therein will I read.- And made no deeper wounds?-Oh, flattering glass, Thou doft beguile me!-Was this face the face Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face, W haught]-haughty. Ff4 And And was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke? A brittle glory shineth in this face : [Dafbes the glass against the ground. As brittle as the glory, is the face; For there it is, crack'd in an hundred fhivers.- Boling. The fhadow of your forrow hath destroy'd K. Rich. Say that again. The shadow of my forrow? Ha! let's fee :- Are merely fhadows to the unfeen grief, Boling. Name it, fair coufin. K. Rich. Fair coufin? Why, I am greater than a king; For, when I was a king, my flatterers Were then but fubjects; being now a fubject, I have a king here to my flatterer. Being fo great, I have no need to beg. Boling. Yet afk. K. Rich. And fhall I have? Boling. You fhall. K. Rich. Whither you will, fo I were from your fights. K. Rich, K. Rich. Oh, good! Convey?-Conveyers are you all, That rife thus nimbly by a true king's fall. [Exit. Boling. On Wednesday next, we folemnly fet down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. [Ex. all but the Abbot, bishop of Carlisle, and Aumerle. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Carl. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, You shall not only take the facrament To bury mine intents, but also to effect Whatever I shall happen to devife :I fee, your brows are full of discontent, Your hearts of forrow, and your eyes of tears; Come home with me to fupper, and I'll lay A plot, fhall fhew us all a merry day. [Exeunt. ACT V. V. SCENE I. A Street in London. Enter Queen, and Ladies. Queen, This way the king will come; this is the way *To Julius Cæfar's ill-erected tower, To whose flint bofom my condemned lord Have any resting for her true king's queen. х * Conveyers]-Jugglers, dealers in fleight of hand. bury]-conceal, keep fecret. To Julius Cæfar's, &c.]-The Tower of London is faid to have been built by him. Enter Enter King Richard, and guards. But foft, but fee, or rather do not fee, And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.— [To K. Rich, Thou b K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not fo, To make my end too fudden: learn, good foul, To think our former ftate a happy dream; From which awak'd, the truth of what we are e Shews us but this: I am fworn brother, fweet, Will keep a league 'till death. Hie thee to France, Our holy lives muft win a new world's crown, Queen. What, is my Richard both in fhape and mind a the model]-the ground plot. cinn,]-habitation, d map]-picture. Join not with grief,]-against me. • I am fworn brother, fweet, to grim neceffity;]-I am perfectly reconciled to this neceffary confinement. K. Rich. |