For you have but mistook me all this while :
I live on bread like you, feel want, tafte grief, Need friends;-Subjected thus,
How can you fay to me-I am a king?
Carl. My lord, wife men ne'er wail their present woes, But presently prevent the ways to wail.
To fear the foe, fince fear oppreffeth strength, Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe, And fo your follies fight against yourself. Fear, and be flain; no worse can come, to fight: And fight and die, is death deftroying death; Where fearing dying, pays death fervile breath.
Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him; And learn to make a body of a limb.
K. Rich. Thou chid'ft me well:-Proud Bolingbroke, I come
To change blows with thee for our day of doom. This ague-fit of fear is over-blown ;
An eafy tafk it is, to win our own.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power? Speak fweetly, man, although thy looks be four. 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 fouthern gentlemen in arms Upon his
And fight and die, is death defroying death ;]-To die fighting, is to destroy our destroyers, to return what we fuffer.
K. Rich. Thou haft faid enough.
Befhrew thee, coufin, which didst lead me forth
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 flave, fhall kingly woe obey. That power I have, discharge; and let them go * To ear the land that hath fome hope to grow, For I have none :-Let no man fpeak again To alter this, for counfel is but vain.
Aum. My liege, one word.
K. Rich. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. Difcharge my followers, let them hence ;-Away, From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair day.
The Camp of Bolingbroke, before Flint Caftle.
Enter with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, and attendants.
Boling. So that by this intelligence we learn, The Welshmen are difpers'd; and Salisbury Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed, With fome few private friends, upon this coaft. North. The news is very fair and good, my lord; Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head.
York. It would befeem the lord Northumberland, To fay-king Richard :-Alack the heavy day, When fuch a facred king should hide his head! North. Your grace mistakes; only to be brief, Left I his title out.
York. The time hath been,
Would you have been fo brief with him, he would Have been fo brief with you, to fhorten you,
'For taking fo the head, your whole head's length. Boling. Miftake not, unclé, farther than you should. York. Take not, good coufin, farther than you should, Left you mif-take: The heavens are o'er your head. Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not Myself against their will.-- But who comes here?
Welcome, Harry; what, will not this caftle yield? Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance.
Boling. Royally! 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 lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury, Sir Stephen Scroop; befides a clergyman Of holy reverence, who, I cannot learn. North. Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle. Boling. Noble lord,
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient caftle;
Through brazen trumpet fend the breath of parle Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver.
Harry of Bolingbroke, on both his knees, Doth kifs king Richard's hand,
For taking fo the bead,]-For taking fuch undue liberties.
And fends allegiance, and true faith of heart, To his moft royal perfon: hither come Even at his feet to lay my arms and power; Provided that, my banifhment repeal'd, And lands reftor'd again, be freely granted: If not, I'll ufe the advantage of my power,
And lay the fummer's duft with fhowers of blood, Rain'd from the wounds of flaughter'd Englishmen : The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke It is, fuch crimson tempeft fhould bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair king Richard's land, My stooping duty tenderly fhall fhew.
Go, fignify as much; while here we march Upon the graffy carpet of this plain.—
Let's march without the naife of threat'ning drum, That from this caftle's "tatter'd battlements Our fair appointments may be well perus'd. Methinks, king Richard and myself fhould meet With no lefs terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring fhock At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
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 founded, and answered by another trumpet within. Flourish, Euter on the walls king Richard, the bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop, and Salisbury.
York. See, fee, king Richard doth himself appear,
As doth the blushing difcontented fun
Provided that, &c.]-the repeal and refloration be freely granted. "tatter'd ]-ragged-totter'd-minous.
Boling.-See, jee, &c.—to occident.
From out the fiery portal of the east;
When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent To dim his glory, and to ftain the tract, Of his bright paffage to the occident. Yet looks he like a king; behold, his eye, As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majefty: Alack, alack, for woe, That any harm should stain fo fair a show!
K. Rich. We are amaz'd; and thus long have we ftood To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To North. 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, fhew us the hand of God. That hath difmifs'd us from our stewardship; For well we know, no hand of blood and bone Can gripe the facred handle of our scepter, Unless he do prophane, fteal, or ufurp.
And though you think, that all, as you have done, Have torn their fouls, by turning them from us, And we are barren, and bereft of friends;➖➖➖➖➖ Yet know, my mafter, God omnipotent, Is mustering in his clouds, on our behalf, Armies of peftilence; and they shall strike Your children yet unborn, and unbegot, That lift your vaffal hands against my head, And threat the glory of my precious crown. Tell Bolingbroke (for yond', methinks, he is) That every ftride he makes upon my land, Is dangerous treafon : He is come to ope The purple teftament of bleeding war; But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
P fearful]-reverent, refpectful. • light in peace-be firmly, or peaceably fettled on his head.
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