Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious:
Even fo, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did fcowl on Richard; no man cry'd, God fave him;
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
But duft was thrown upon his facred head;
Which with fuch gentle forrow he thook off,-
His face ftill combating with tears and fimiles,
The badges of his grief and patience,-
That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
And barbarifm ittelf have pitied him.
But heaven hath a hand in thefe events;
To whofe high will we bound our calm contents.
To Bolingbroke are we fworn fubjećts now,
Whofe ftate and honour I for aye allow.
Enter Aumarle.
Dutch. Here comes my fon Aumerle.
York. Aumerle that was 2;
But that is loit, for being Richard's friend,
And, madam, you must call him Rutland now:
I am in parliament pledge for his truth,
And lafting fealty to the new-made king. [now,
Dutch. Welcome, my fon: Who are the violets
That ftrew the green lap of the new-come spring?
Aum. Madam, Iknow not, nor I greatly care not;
God knows, I had as lief be none, as one.
I will appeach the villain.
Dutch. What's the matter?
York. Peace, foolish woman.
[for
Dutch. I will not peace :What is the matter,
Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more
Than my poor life must answer.
Dutch. Thy life answer!
Enter Servant, with boots.
York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. Dutch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou art amaz'd :--
Hence, villain; never more come in my fight.-[Speaking to the fervant.
York. Give me my boots, 1 fay.
Dutch. Why, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trefpafs of thine own?
Have we more fons ? or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
And wilt thou pluck my fair fon from mine age
And rob me of a happy mother's name?
Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?
York. Thou fond mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark confpiracy?
A dozen of them here have ta'en the facrament,
And interchangeably fet down their hands,
To kill the king at Oxford.
Dutch. He thall be none;
York. Well, bear you well 3 in this new fpring of We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him? Left you be cropt before you come to prime. York. Away, fond woman! were he twenty What news from Oxford? Hold thofe jufts and tri-My fon, I would appeach him.
Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
York. You will be there, I know.
Aum. If God prevent me not; I purpose fo.
York. What feal is that, that hangs without thy
bofom ?
Yea, look it thou pale? let me fee the writing.
Hum. My lord, 'tis nothing.
York. No matter then who fees it :
I will be fatisfy'd, let me fee the writing.
Aum. I do befeech your grace to pardon me;
It is a matter of fmall confequence,
Which for fome reasons I would not have feen.
York. Which for fome reafons, fir, I mean to fee.
I fear, 1 fear,-
Dutch. What should you fear?
'Tis nothing but fome bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay apparel, against the triumph. [bond
York. Bound to himfelf? what doth he with a
That he is bound to ? Wife, thou art a fool-
Boy, let me fee the writing.
Aum. I do befeech you, pardon me; I may not York. I will be fatisfied; let me fee it, I jay. [Snatches it and reads. Treafon! foul treafon !-villain! traitor! flave! Dutch. What is the matter, my lord? York. Ho! who is within there? laddle my horfe. Heaven, for his mercy! what treachery is here! Dutch. Why, what is it, my lord?
York. Give me my boots, I fay; faddle my horfe :Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth,
Dutch. Hadft thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou'dit be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, That I have been difloyal to thy bed, And that he is a baftard, not thy fon: Sweet York, fweet hufband, be not of that mind He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him.
Yok. Make way, unruly woman. [Exit. [horse; Dutch. After, Aumerle: mount thee upon his Spur, poft; and get before him to the king, And beg thy pardon ere he do accufe thee. I'll not be long behind; though I be old, I doubt not but to ride as fait as York: And never will I rufe up from the ground, Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee: Away. [Exeurs.
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The Cot at IFindfor Gaffle.
Enter Bolingbroke, Percy, and other Lords.
Boling. Can ho man teil of my unthrifty fon?
'Tis full three months, fince I did fee him last:-
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to heaven, my lords, he might be found
Enquire at London 'mongft the taverns there,
For there, they fay, he daily doth frequent,
With unreftrained loofe companions;
Even fuch, they fay, as ftand in narrow lanes,
And beat our watch, and rob our paflengers;
1 i. e. carelefly turned. 2 From Holiufhed we learn, that the dukes of Aumerle, Surry, and Exeter, were by an act of Henry's firti parliament deprived of their dukedoms, but allowed to retain their caridoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon. 3 i. c. conduct yourtelt with prudence.
Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the
That no man enter 'till my tale be done.
Boling. Have thy defire.
York. My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou haft a traitor in thy prefence there. Boling. Villain, I'll make thee fafe. [Drawing. Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;
Thon haft no caufe to fear.
Yok. Open the door, fecure, fool-hardy king: Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open.
The King opens the door, enter York. Boling. What is the matter, uncle speak; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it.
[know York. Perufe this writing here, and thou fhalt The treason that my hafte forbids me show. [paft: Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promife I do repent me; read not my name there, My heart is not confederate with my hand. To k.'Twas, villain,ere thy hand did fet it down.-I tore it from the traitor's bofom, king; Fear, and not love, begets his penitence : Forget to pity him, left thy pity prove A ferpent that will fting thee to the heart.
Belly. O heinous, ftrong, and bold confpiracy !— Oloval father of a treacherous fon! Thou fheer, immaculate, and filver fountain, From whence this stream through muddy paffages Hath held his current, and defil'd himself !
Thy overflow of good converts to bad 2; And thy abundant goodness fhall excufe This deadly blot in thy digreffing 3 fon.
York. So fhall my virtue be his vice's bawd And he fhall fpend mine honour with his shame, As thriftlefs fons their fcraping fathers' gold. Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, Or my fham'd life in his dithonour lies : Thou kill'it me in his life; giving him breath, The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. [Dutches within.
Dutch. What ho, my liege! for heaven's fake, let me in. [cager cry? Boling. What thrill-voic'd fuppliant makes this Dutch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king;
Speak with me, pity me, open the door;
A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.
Beling. Our fcene is alter'd, from a serious thing,
And now chang'd to the Beggar and the King 4.
My dangerous coufin, let your mother in ;
I know, fhe's come to pray for your foul fin.
York. If thou do pardon, whofoever pray, More fins, for this forgivenefs, profper may. This fefter'd joint cut off, the reft refts found; This, let alone, will all the rest confound. Enter Dutchess.
Dutch. Oking, believe not this hard-hearted man; Love, loving not itself, none other can.
[here? York. Thou frantic woman, what doft thou do Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? Dutch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gentle liege. [Kneels.
Boling. Rife up, good aunt.
Dutch. Not yet, I thee befeech: For ever will I kneel upon my knees, And never fee day that the happy fees, 'Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, By pardoning Rutland, my tranfgreffing boy. Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my
York. Against them both, my true joints bended
Ill may'ft thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
Dutch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jeft;
His words come from his mouth, ours from our
breaft:
He prays but faintly, and would be deny'd ;
We pray with heart, and foul, and all befide;
His weary joints would gladly rife, I know;
Our knees shall kneel 'till to the ground they grow:
His prayers are full of falfe hy, crity;
Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity.
Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
That mercy, which true prayers ought to have.
Boling. Good aunt, ftand up.
Dutch. Nay, do not say-sland up;
But, pardon, firft; and afterwards, stand up.
An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
Pardon--fhould be the firft word of thy speech.
Sheer is pellucid, clear. 2 That is, "The overflow of good in thee is turned to bad in thy for. 3 To digrefs is to deviate from what is right or regular,
4 Alluding to an interlude well know.am
1 never long'd to hear a word 'till now;
Say-pardon, king; let pity teach thee how :
The word is fhort, but not fo fhort as sweet;
No word like, pardon, for kings' mouths fo meet.
York. Speak it in French, king; fay, pardonnez
moy
Dutch. Doit thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
Ah, my four husband, my hard-hearted lord,
That fet'ft the word itself against the word!-
Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to fpeak, fet thy tongue there :
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee pardon to rehearse.
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
Dutch. I do not fue to ftand,
Pardon is all the fuit I have in hand.
Boling. I pardon him, as heaven shall pardon me.
Dutch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I fick for fear: fpeak it again;
Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon strong.
Boling. With all my heart
And here is not a creature but myself,
I cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my foul;
My foul, the father: and these two beget
A generation of fill-breeding thoughts,
And these fame thoughts people this little world;
In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better fort,-
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd
With fcruples, and do fet the word itself
Against the word 3:
As thus,--Come, little ones; and then again,It is as hard to come, as for a camel To thread the poftern of a needle's eye. Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot Unlikely wonders; how thefe vain weak nails May tear a palage through the flinty ribs Of this hard world, my ragged prifon walls; And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Thoughts tending to content, flatter themfelves,— That they are not the first of fortune's flaves, Nor fhall not be the lait: Like filly beggars, Who, fitting in the ftocks, refuge their thame,That many have, and others muft fit there : And in this thought they find a kind of eafe, Dutch. A god on earth thou art. [the abbot 2, Bearing their own misfortune on the back Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,-and | Of fuch as have before endur'd the like. With all the reft of that conforted crew,Deftruction ftraight fhall dog them at the heels. Good uncle, help to order feveral powers To Oxford, or where-e'er these traitors are: They fhall not live within this world, I fwear, But I will have them, if I once know where. Uncle, farewel;—and, coufin, too, adieu: Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. Dutch. Come, my old fon; I pray heaven make
Enter Exton, and a Servant.
Thus play I, in one perfon, many people,
And none contented: Sometimes am I king;
Then treafon makes me with myfelf a beggar,
And fo I am: Then crushing penury
Perfuades 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 ftraight am nothing:--But, what-e'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,
With nothing thall be pleas'd, 'till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Mufic do I hear? [Mafic.
Ha, ha! keep tine:-How four fweet mufic is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept?
Exton. Didit thou not mark the king, what words So is it in the music of men's lives.
Serv. Those were his very words. [twice,
Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he fpake it
And urg'd it twice together; did he not ?
Serv. He did.
Exton. And, fpeaking it, he wiftly look'd on me;
As who fhould fay,-I would, thou wert the man
That would divorce this terror from my heart;
Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go ;
I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt.
S CE NE
The Prifon at Pomfret-Cafile.
K. Rich. I have been studying how to compare
This prifon, where I live, unto the world;
And, for because the world is populous,
And here have I the daintineis of ear,
To hear time broke in a diforder'd string;
But, for the concord of my fate and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wafted time, and now doth time wafte me.
For now hath time made me las numb'ring clock:
Their watches to mine eyes, the outward watch 5,
My thoughts are minutes; and, with fighs, they jar 4
Whereto my finger, like a dual's point,
Is pointing ftill, in cleaning them from tears.
Now, fr, the found, that tells what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: So fighs, and tears, and groans,
Shew minutes, times, and hours :--but time
my
Runs potting on in Bolingbrole's proud joy,
While I itand fooling here, his jack o' the clock".
This mufic mads me, let it found no more ;
For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it feems, it will make wife men mad.
That is, excufe me. 2 The abbot of Winter was an ecclefiaftic; but the brother-in-law meant, was Jolin duke of Excter and carl of Huntingdon (own brother to King Richard II.), and who had married with the lady Ilizabeth, fifter of Eenry of Bolingbroke. 3 B, the word I fuppofe is meant the Scriptures. 4 Tojar probably here means, to make that noife which is called, thưng, 5 Watch feems to be uftd in a double fenfe, for a quantity of time, and for the instrument which mcafures time. oie. I hike or him, Yel,
Yet, bleffing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a fign 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 comeft thou hither,
Where no man ever comes, but that fad dog 2
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 fometime royal mafter'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 horfe, that thou fo often hath beftrid;
That horfe, that I fo carefully have drefs'd!
K. Rib. Rode he on Darbary? Tell ine, gentle
friend,
How went he under him?
Groom. So proudly, as if he difdain'd the ground.
K. Rich. So prouu, that Bolingbroke was on his
back!
That jade hathi cat bread from my royal hand;
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not ftumble? Would he not fall down,
(Since pride muft have a fill) and break the neck
Of that proud man, that did ufurp his back, ?
Forgiveness, horfe! why do I rail on thee,
Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
Wast born to bear? I was not made a horfe;
And yet I bear a burden like an afs,
Spur-gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing 3 Bolingbroke.
Enter Keeper, with a difh.
Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer ftay.
[To the Groom.
K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart
fhall fay.
[Exit.
Keep. My lord, will 't pleafe you to fall to ?
K. Ricb. Tafte of it firft, as thou wert wont to do.
Keep. My lord, I dare not; Sir Pierce of Exton,
Who late came from the king, commands the con-
trary.
[thee
K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and
Patience is ftale, and I am weary of it.
Enter Exton, and Servants.
That staggers thus my perfon.-Exton, thy fierce hand
[land. Hath with the king's blood ftain'd the king's own Mount, mount, my foul! thy feat is up on high; Whilft my grofs flesh finks downward, here to die. [Dies
Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood:
Both have I fpilt; Oh, 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 reft, and give them burial here.
[Exeunt.
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Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford fent to
London
The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely;
Two of the dangerous conforted traitors,
That fought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, fhall not be forgot ;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
Enter Percy, with the Bishop of Carlisle.
Percy. The grand confpirator, abbot of Weft-
miniter,
With clog, of confcience, and four melancholy,
Hath yielded up his body to the grave:
Bur here is Carlifle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom, and fentence of his pride.
Boling. Carlife, this is your doom :----
Chufe out fome fecret place, fome reverend room,
More than thou haft, and with it joy thy life;
K. Rich. How now ? what means death in this So, as thou liv'ft in peace, die free from ftrife:
Villain, thine own hand yields thy death's inftrument. [Snatching a weapon, and killing one. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [Kill. another. [Exton ftrikes him down.
That hand fhall burn in never-quenching fire,
For tho' mine enemy thou haft ever been,
High fparks of honour in thee have I feen.
Enter Exton, with a coffin.
Exton. Great king, within this coffin I prefent Thy bury'd fear: herein all breathlefs lies
1 i. e. is as ftrange and uncommon as a brooch, which is now no longer worn. 2 Meaning, that grate, gloomy till in, who brings, &c. 3 Jaunce and jaunt were fynonimous words.
1 never long'd to hear a word 'till now;
Say-pardon, king; let pity teach thee how :
The word is fhort, but not fo fhort as fweet;
No word like, pardon, for kings' mouths fo meet.
York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardonnez
moy
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Dutch. Doit thou teach pardon pardon to deftroy?
Ah, my four husband, my hard-hearted lord,
That fet'ft the word itself against the word!—
Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to fpeak, fet thy tongue there:
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee pardon to rehearse.
Boling. Good aunt, ftand up.
Dutch. I do not fue to ftand,
Pardon is all the fuit I have in hand.
Beling. I pardon him, as heaven fhall pardon me.
Dutch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I fick for fear: fpeak it again;
Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon ftrong.
Beling. With all my heart
I pardon him.
Dutch. A god on earth thou art. [the abbot 2,
Boling. But for our trufty brother-in-law,-and
With all the reft of that conforted crew,-
Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.
Good uncle, help to order feveral powers
To Oxford, or where-e'er these traitors are:
They fhall not live within this world, I fwear,
But I will have them, if I once know where.
Uncle, farewel;—and, coufin, too, adieu:
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
Datch. Come, my old fon; I pray heaven make
Enter Exten, and a Servant.
And here is not a creature but myself,
cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out.
My brain I'll prove the female to my foul;
My foul, the father: and thefe two beget
A generation of fill-broeding thoughts,
And these fame thoughts people this little war
In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better fort
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd
With fcruples, and do fet the word itself
Against the word 3:
As thus,-Come, little ones; and then again,
It is as hard to come, as for a camel
To thread the poftern of a needle's eye.
Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plat
Unlikely wonders; how there vain weak n
May tear a pathage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prifon walls și
And, for they cannot, die in their own pric
Thoughts tending to content, flatter themieh
That they are not the first of fortune's flaves
Nor fhall not be the laft: Like filly beggar
Who, fitting in the ftecks, refuge their thi
That many have, and others must fit there
And in this thought they find a kind of eafe,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
| Of fuch as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play I, in one perfon, many people,
And none contented: Sometimes am I king
Then treafon makes me with myself a beg
And fo I am: Then crushing penury
Perfuades 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 ftraight am nothing:-But, what-e'et
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,
With nothing thell be picas'd, 'till he be ea
With being nothing.-Mufic do I hear?
Ha, ha! keep tin e:-How four sweet mi
When time is broke, and no proportion k
Exton. Didit thou not mark the king, what words So is it in the mufic of men's lives.
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And here have 1 the daintiness of ear,
To hear time broke in a diforder'd thring;
But, for the concord of my state and time
Had not an ear to hear my true time brok
I wafted time, and now doth time watest
For now hath time made me his num
My thoughts are minutes; and, with fighs,
Their watches to name eyes, the outward
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing ftil', in cleaning them from text
Now, fr, the found, that tells what hour it
Are clamorous groans, that itrike upan my
Which is the bell: So fighs, and tears, and į
Show minutes, times, and hours :--but my
Runs pofting on in Bolingbroke's provd ją
While I tend fooling bere, his jack o' tlaŭ
This mufic mads me, let it found no more
For, though it have holpe madm.cn to the
In me, it feems, will make wife men m
That is, excufe me. 2 The abbot of Weminter was an ecclefiaftic; but the broke
meant, was John duke of Exeter and carl of Huntingdon (own brother to!
who had married with the lady Lizabeth, ffter of Leary of Bolingbroke.
is meant the Scriptures. 4 To jer probably here m $ Watch feems to be used in a double fente, for a measures time. 01 e. Lhim,
|