Let's choose 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, And nothing can 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:- 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; All murder'd:-For within the hollow crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a 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 humor'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 with bread like you, feel want, taste grief,
Need friends:-Subjected thus,
How can you say to me-I am a king?
K. Rich. That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. Discharge my followers, let them hence;-Away, From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair day. [Exeunt.
He does me double wrong
SCENE III.-Wales. Before Flint Castle. Enter, with Drum and Colors, BOLINGBROKE and Forces; YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and others.
Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn, Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed, The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury 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 me; only to be brief, Left I his title out.
York. The time hath been, Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, Would you have been so brief with him, he would For taking so the head, your whole head's length. Boling. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you
York. Take not, good cousin, further than you
Lest you mistake: The heavens are o'er your head. Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not
Car. My lord, wise men ne'er wail their present Myself against their will.-But who comes here?
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 slain; no worse can come, to fight: And fight and die, is death destroying death; 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 Bolingbroke, I come
To change blows with thee for our day of doom. This ague-fit of fear is overblown: 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 did 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.
Well, Harry; what, will not this castle yield? Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance. Boling. 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; And with him are the 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.
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 Bolingbroke
On both his knees doth kiss king Richard's hand; 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: 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
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land, My stooping duty tenderly shall show. Go, signify as much; while here we march Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.————
[NORTHUMBERLAND advances to the Castle with a Trumpet. Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum, That from the castle's totter'd battlements Our fair appointments may be well perused. 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. A Parle sounded, and answered by another Trum- pet within. Flourish. Enter on the Walls KING RICHARD, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AU- MERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY.
York. See, see, king Richard doth himself appear, 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 track 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, Controlling majesty; Alack, alack, for woe, That any harm should stain so fair a show!
K. Rich. We are amaz'd; and thus long have we stood
To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To NORTHUMBERLAND. 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, show 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 profane, 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 hedew
Her pasture's grass with faithful English blood. North. The king of heaven forbid, our lord the king
Should so with civil and uncivil arms Be rush'd upon; Thy thrice-noble cousin, Harry Bolingbroke, doth humbly kiss thy hand; And by the honorable tomb he swears, That stands upon thy royal grandsire's bones; And by the royalties of both your bloods, Currents that spring from one most gracious head; And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt; And by the worth and honor of himself, Comprising all that may be sworn or said,- His coming hither hath no further scope, 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
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.— We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not, To look so poorly, and to speak so fair? [To AUM. Shall we call back Northumberland, and send Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
Aum. No, my good lord; let's fight with gentle words,
Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful
K. Rich. O God! O God! that e'er this tongue of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment On yon proud man, should take it off again With words of sooth! O, 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! Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bo-
K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must he submit?
The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd? 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; My figur'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:- Or I'll be buried 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, buried once, why not upon my head?- Aumerle, thou weep'st; My tender-hearted cousin! We'll make foul weather with despised tears; Our sighs and they, shall lodge the summer corn, And make a dearth in this revolting land. Or shall we play the wantons with our woes, And make some pretty match with shedding tears; As thus:-To drop them still upon one place, Till they have fretted us a pair of graves Within the earth; and therein laid,-There lies Two kinsmen, digg'd their graves with weeping eyes?
Would not this ill do well?-Well, well, I see I talk but idly, and you mock at me.- Most mighty prince, my lord Northumberland What says king Bolingbroke? will his majesty Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says-ay.
North. My lord, in the base court he doth attend,
To speak with you; may't please you to come down? K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering
To come at traitors' calls, and do them grace. In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!
For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks should sing. [Exeunt, from above. Boling. What says his majesty? North Sorrow and grief of heart Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man: Yet he is come.
Enter KING RICHARD, and his Attendants, below. Boling. Stand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.- My gracious lord,—
[Kneeling. K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee,
To make the base earth proud with kissing it: Me rather had, my heart might feel your love, Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy. Up, cousin, up: your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, [Touching his own head.] al- though your knee be low.
Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine
That know the strong'st and surest way to get. Uncle, give me your hand: nay, dry your eyes: Tears show their love, but want their remedies. Cousin, I am too young to be your father, Though you are old enough to be my heir. What you will have, I'll give, and willing too; For do we must, what force will have us do.- Set on towards London: Cousin, is it so? Boling. Yea, my good lord. K. Rich.
Then I must not say, no. [Flourish. Exeunt. SCENE IV.-Langley. The duke of York's Garden.
Enter the QUEEN, and two Ladies.
Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do me good,
And never borrow any tear of thee. But stay, here come the gardeners: Let's step into the shadow of these trees.-
Enter a Gardener, and two Servants. My wretchedness unto a row of pins, They'll talk of state; for every one doth so Against a change: Woe is forerun with woe.
[QUEEN and Ladies retire. Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricocks, Which, like unruly children, make their sire Give some supportance to the bending twigs.— Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight: Go thou, and like an executioner, Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays, That look too lofty in our commonwealth: All must be even in our government. The noisome weeds, that without profit suck You thus employ'd, I will go root away The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
1 Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a Keep law, and form, and due proportion, pale, When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, Showing, as in a model, our firm estate? Her fruit-trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd, Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up, Swarming with caterpillars? Her knots' disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs Hold thy peace :—
He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring, Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: The weeds, that his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
That seem'd in eating him to hold him up, Are pluck'd up, root and all, by Bolingbroke; I mean the earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. 1 Serv. What, are they dead? Gard. They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seiz'd the wasteful king.-Oh! What pity is it That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land, As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees;
Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this Lest, being over-proud with sap and blood,
1 Lady. Queen. My legs can keep no measure in de- light,
When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief: Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport. 1 Lady. Madam, we'll tell tales. Queen.
With too much riches it confound itself: Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have liv'd to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. 1 Serv. What, think you then, the king shall be depos'd?
Gard. Depress'd he is already; and depos'd, 'Tis doubt he will be: Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good duke of York's
Of sorrow, or of joy? That tell black tidings. 1 Lady. Of either, madam. Queen. O, I am press'd to death, Queen. Of neither, girl: Through want of speaking!-Thou, old Adam's For if of joy, being altogether wanting, likeness, [Coming from her concealment. It doth remember me the more of sorrow; Set to dress this garden, how dares Or if of grief, being altogether had, Thy harsh-rude tongue sound this unpleasing It adds more sorrow to my want of joy: For what I have, I need not to repeat; And what I want, it boots not to complain. 1 Lady. Madam, I'll sing. Queen. "Tis well that thou hast cause; But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou
1 Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good.
What Eve, what serpent hath suggested thee To make a second fall of cursed man? Why dost thou say, king Richard is depos'd? Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth, Divine his downfall? Say where, when, and how, Cam'st thou by these ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch.
4 Figures planted in a box.
Gard. Pardon me, madam; little joy have I, To breathe this news; yet, what I say, is true. King Richard, he is in the mighty hold
Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd: In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, And some few vanities that make him light; But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, Besides himself are all the English peers, And with that odds he weighs king Richard down. Post you to London, and you'll find it so; I speak no more than every man doth know. Queen. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot,
Doth not thy embassage belong to me, And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st To serve me last, that I may longest keep
Thy sorrow in my breast.-Come, ladies, go, To meet at London London's king in woe.- What, was I born to this! that my sad look Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke? Gardener, for telling me this news of woe, I would, the plants thou graft'st may never grow. [Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies. Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be
I would, my skill were subject to thy curse.Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place, I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace: Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping queen.
SCENE I.-London. Westminster-Hall. The Lords Spiritual on the right side of the Throne; the Lords Temporal on the left; the Commons below. Enter BOLINGBROKE, AU- MERLE, SURREY, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord, BISHOP OF CAR- LISLE, ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, and Attend- ants. Officers behind, with BAGOT.
Boling. Call forth Bagot:- Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind,
What thou dost know of noble Gloster's death; Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd The bloody office of his timeless end?
Bagot. Then set before my face the lord Aumerle. Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that
Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd. In that dead time when Gloster's death was plotted, I heard you say,-Is not my arm of length, That reacheth from the restful English court As far as Calais, to my uncle's head? Amongst much other talk, that very time, I heard you say that you had rather refuse The offer of a hundred thousand crowns, Than Bolingbroke's return to England; Adding withal, how blest this land would be, In this your cousin's death.
Princes, and noble lords, What answer shall I make to this base man? Shall I so much dishonor my fair stars, On equal terms to give him chastisement? Either I must, or have mine honor soil'd With the attainder of his sland'rous lips.There is my gage, the manual seal of death, That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest, And will maintain, what thou hast said, is false, In thy heart-blood, though being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword. Boling. Bagot, forbear, thou shalt not take it up. Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence that hath mov'd me so.
Fitz. If that thy valor stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine: By that fair sun that shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day.
Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.
Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest; his honor is as true, In this appeal, as thou art all unjust: And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage, Το prove it on thee to the extremest point Of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou dar'st.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off, And never brandish more revengeful steel Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
Lord. I take the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
And spur thee on with full as many lies As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear From sun to sun: there is my honor's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Aum. Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all:
I have a thousand spirits in one breast, To answer twenty thousand such as you. Surrey. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
Fitz. My lord, 'tis true: you were in presence then;
And you can witness with me, this is true. Surrey. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is
Fitz. Surrey, thou liest. Surrey. Dishonorable boy! That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, That it shall render vengeance and revenge, Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. In proof whereof, there is my honor's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies, And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.— As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say, That thou, Aumerle, didst send 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 honor.
Boling. These differences shall all rest under gage,
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be, And, though mine enemy, restor'd again To all his land and seignories; when he's return'd, Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
Car. That honorable day shall ne'er be seen.- Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought For Jesu Christ; in glorious Christian field Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross, Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens: And, toil'd with works of war, retired himself To Italy; and there at Venice, gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colors he had fought so long. Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead? Car. As sure as I live, my lord.
To keep him safely till his day of trial.— May't please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit. Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common
He may surrender; so we shall proceed Without suspicion. I will be his conduct. York. Boling. Lords, you that are here under our arrest, Procure your sureties for your days of answer:- Little are we beholden to your love, [To CARLISLE. And little look'd for at your helping hands.
Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and Officers bearing the Crown, &c.
K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee:-
Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me
Of good old Abraham!-Lords appellants, Your differences shall all rest under gage, Till we assign you to your days of trial.
Enter YORK, attended.
York. Great duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand: Ascend his throne, descending now from him,- And long live Henry, of that name the fourth! Boling. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
Car. Marry, God forbid!— Worst in this royal presence 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 true nobless would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. What subject can give sentence on his king? And who sits 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 shall the figure of God's majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath, And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God, That, in a Christian climate, souls refined Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'd up by heaven 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 prophesy,— The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul act; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and Infidels, And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous 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 skulls. O, if thou rear this house against this house, It will the woefullest division prove, That ever fell upon this cursed earth: Prevent, resist it, let it not be so,
Lest child, child's children, cry, against you-woe! North. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treason we arrest you here: My lord of Westminster, be it your charge
Yet I well remember To this submission. The favors of these men: Were they not mine? Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me?- So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand,
God save the king!-Will no man say, amen? Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen. God save the king! although I be not he; And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.—- To do what service am I sent for hither?
York. To do that office of thine own good will, Which tired majesty did make thee offer,- The resignation of thy state and crown To Henry Bolingbroke.
K. Rich. Give me the crown:-Here, cousin,
Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, 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, unseen, and full of water: That bucket down, and full of tears, am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign. K. Rich. My crown, I am; but still my griefs
You may my glories and my state depose, But not my grief; still am I king of those. Boling. Part of your cares you give me with your
K. Rich. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
My care is loss of care, by old care done; Your care is gain of care, by new care won: The cares I give, I have, though given away; They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown? K. Rich. Ay, no;-no, ay ;-For I must nothing be;
Therefore no no, for I resign to thee. Now mark me how I will undo myself:- I give this heavy weight from off my head, And this unwieldly sceptre from my hand, The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; With mine own tears I wash away my balm,' With mine own hands I give away my crown, With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, With mine own breath release all duteous oaths: All pomp and majesty I do forswear; My manors, rents, revenues, I forego; My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny : God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!
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