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Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by,
Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing:-But, whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,

[Musick.

With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Musick do I hear?
Ha, ha! keep time:-How sour sweet musick is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the musick of men's lives.
And here have I the daintiness of ear,
To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
But, for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock;
My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,"
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and
groans,
Show minutes, times, and hours :-but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the clock.
This musick mads me, let it sound no more;
For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!

n For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock,

My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, they jar

Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, &c.] This fanciful passage has been found very difficult. The meaning appears to be as follows: Time has now converted me into a clock for numbering the lapse of his hours. My thoughts are minutes; and the sighs they produce jar on their watches, i. e. tick their sounds to my eyes, which are the outward watch or dial whereto my finger is ever pointing." The metaphor is forced and bad, but I do not think the passage is corrupt.

his Jack o'the clock.] That is, I strike for him. One of these automatons is alluded to in King Richard III.—STEEVENS.

For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch' in this all-hating world.

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal prince!

K. Rich.
Thanks, noble peer;
The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
Where no man never comes, but that sad dog
That brings me food, to make misfortune live?

Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king,
When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
With much ado, at length have gotten leave
To look upon my sometimes' royal master's face.
O, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld
In London streets, that coronation day,
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!
That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid;
That horse, that I so carefully have dress'd!

K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend, How went he under him?

Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down, (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck Of that proud man, that did usurp his back? Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee, Since thou, created to be aw'd by man, Was born to bear? I was not made a horse; And yet I bear a burden like an ass,

Spur-gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing Bolingbroke.

p - a strange brooch-] i. e. A rare jewel. A brooch was an ornamental buckle, pin, or loop. It is frequently mentioned as an ornament worn in

the hat.

sad dog-] The word sad in our author's time meant grave. The expression is equivalent to that gloomy villain.-STEEVENS.

sometimes-] Used for formerly.

jauncing-] Jaunce and jaunt were synonymous words.

Enter Keeper, with a Dish.

Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.

[To the Groom.

K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall

say.

Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to?

[Exit.

K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton, who Lately came from the king, commands the contrary.

K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. [Beats the Keeper. Keep. Help, help, help!

Enter EXTON, and Servants, armed.

K, Rich. How now? what means death in this rude assault?

Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.

[Snatching a weapon, and killing one.

Go thou, and fill another room in hell.

[He kills another, then EXTON strikes him down.

That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,

That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy fierce hand
Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. [Dies.

Dies.] Shakspeare has copied Holinshed in this scene, who took his account of Richard's death from Hall, as Hall did from Fabian, in whose Chronicle, I believe, this story of Sir Pierce of Exton first appeared. Froissart, who had been in England in 1396, and who appears to have finished his Chronicle soon after the death of the king, says, "How he died, and by what meanes, I could not tell when I wrote the Chronicle." Had he been murdered by eight armed men, "four of whom he slew," which is Fabian's story, such an event would most probably have reached the ears of Froissart. The Percies, in the manifesto which they published against King Henry the Fourth, in the third year of his reign, the day before the battle of Shrewsbury, expressly charge him with having "carried his sovereign lord traitorously within the castle of Pomfret, without his consent or the judgment of the lordes of the realm, by the space of fifteen days and so many nights (which is horrible among Christian people to be heard), with hunger, thirst, and cold to perish."

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That he died of hunger appears certain; but the fact was that he refused food, and died of voluntary abstinence and a broken heart.-MALONE and RITSON.

Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood:
Both have I spilt; O, would the deed were good!
For now the devil, that told me—I did well,
Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell.

This dead king to the living king I'll bear ;

Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt.

SCENE VI.

Windsor. A Room in the Castle.

Flourish. Enter BOLINGBROKE, and YORK, with Lords and Attendants.

Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear, Is-that the rebels have consum'd with fire

Our town of Cicester in Glostershire;

But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear not.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.

Welcome, my lord: What is the news?

North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness. The next news is, I have to London sent

The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear

At large discoursed in this paper here.

[Presenting a paper. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.

Enter FITZWATER.

Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London.

The heads of Brocas, and sir Bennet Seely;

Two of the dangerous consorted traitors,
That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.

Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.

Enter PERCY, with the Bishop of CARLISLE.

Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westminster,"
With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy,
Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
But here is Carlisle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.
Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom :—*
Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife :
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

Enter EXTON, with Attendants bearing a Coffin.
Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried fear; herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.

Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand,

Upon my head, and all this famous land.

Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.

Boling. They love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word, nor princely favour:
With Cain go wander through the shade of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light,-
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:

u

-The abbot of Westminster,] He was William of Colchester. It is doubtful if he had any part in the conspiracy, and he survived Richard the Second some years.

* Carlisle, this is your doom :-] This prelate was committed to the Tower, but on the intercession of his friends, obtained leave to change his prison for Westminster Abbey. To deprive him of his see, the pope, at the king's instance, translated him to a bishoprick in partibus infidelium; and the only preferment he could ever after obtain was a rectory in Gloucestershire. He died 1404.

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