With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. This, and much more, much more than twice all this, Condemns you to the death:-See them deliver'd over To execution and the hand of death. Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to me, Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewell. Green. My comfort is, that heaven will take our souls, And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boling. My lord Northumberland, see them despatch'd. [Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and Others, Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house: 2 Dispark'd my parks,] To dispark is to throw down the hedges of an enclosure, or to divest a park of its name and character by destroying the enclosures, and laying it open. 3 From my own windows torn my household coat,] It was the practice when coloured glass was in use, of which there are still some remains in old seats and churches, to anneal the arms of the family in the windows of the house. 4 Raz'd out my impress, &c.] The impress was a device or motto. York. A gentleman of mine I have despatch'd With letters of your love to her at large. Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.-Come, lords, away; To fight with Glendower and his complices; Awhile to work, and, after, holiday. [Exeunt. SCENE II. The Coast of Wales. A Castle in view. Flourish: Drums and Trumpets. Enter King RICHARD, Bishop of CARLISLE, AUMERLE, and Soldiers. K. Rich. Barkloughly castle call you † this at hand? Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace the air, After late tossing on the breaking seas? K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep for joy, To stand upon my kingdom once again. Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting; † “call they”—Malone. "After your late tossing"-MALONE. Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch Shall falter under foul rebellious arms +. Bishop. Fear not, my lord; that Power, that made you king, Hath power to keep you king, in spite of all. The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; K. Rich. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not, The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, t "rebellion's arms."-MALONE. 5 He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,] It is not easy to point out an image more striking and beautiful than this, in any poet whether ancient or modern. STEFVENS. Not able to endure the sight of day, For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd, A glorious angel: then, if angels fight, Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right. Enter SALISBURY. Welcome, my lord; How far off lies your power? And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men! O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale? K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty thousand men Did triumph in my face, and they are fled; And, till so much blood thither come again, Have I not reason to look pale and dead? All souls that will be safe, fly from my side; For time hath set a blot upon my pride. Aum. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are. K. Rich. I had forgot myself: Am I not king? Awake, thou sluggard majesty! thou sleep'st. Is not the king's name forty thousand names? Enter SCROOP. Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege, Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him. K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart prepar'd ; Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? The worst is-death, and death will have his day. Like an unseasonable stormy day, Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores, So high above his limits swells the rage Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel. White beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices, 6 Mine ear is open, &c.] It seems to be the design of the poet to raise Richard to esteem in his fall, and consequently to interest the reader in his favour. He gives him only passive fortitude, the virtue of a confessor, rather than of a king. In his prosperity, we saw him imperious and oppressive; but in his distress he is wise, patient, and pious. JOHNSON. |