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 Bolingbroke.
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 scepter, 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 bury'd in the King's high way :
* Some way of common Tread, where Subjects' feet
May hourly trample on their Sovereign's head:
For on my heart they tread now, whilft I live ;
And, bury'd once, why not upon my head ?
Aumerle, thou weep'st; (my tender-hearted cousin !)
We'll make foul weather with despised tears ;
Our fighs, 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

3 Same way of common Trade, - I suppose it should be, Tread.

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 glist'ring Phaeton, Wanting the manage of unruly jades. In the base court? base court, where Kings grow base, 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. Boling. What says his Majesty?

North. Sorrow, and Grief of Heart,
Makes him speak fondly, like a frantick Man
Yet is he come.

Boling. Stand all apart,
And shew fair duty to his Majesty.
My gracious lord

[Kneel.
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

courtesie.
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Thus high at least, although your knee be low.

Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own. K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.

Boling. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, As my true fervice shall deserve

your

love.
K. Rich. Well you deserve: they well deserve to have,
That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
Uncle, give me your hand; nay, dry your eyes;
Tears shew 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.

S CE N E VII.
A Garden, in the Queen's Court.

Enter Queen and two Ladies.
Queen. WHAT sport shall we devise here in this
To drive away the heavy thought of care?

Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls. [rubs,

Queen. 'Twill make me think, the world is full of And that my fortune runs against the bias,

Lady. Madam, we'll dance.

Queen. My legs can keep no measure in delight,
When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief.
Therefore no dancing, girl; some other sport.

Lady. Madam, we'll tell tales.
Queen. Of sorrow, or of joy?
Lady. Of either, Madam.

Queen. Of neither, girl.
For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
It doth remember me the more of sorrow :
Or if of grief, being altogether had,
It adds more forrow to my want of joy.
For what I have, I need not to repeat:
And what I want, it boots not to complain.

Lady. Madam, I'll sing.

Queen. 'Tis well, that thou haft cause: But thou should'st please me better, would'st thou weep.

Lady. I could weep, Madam, would it do you good.
Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do me

good,
And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the Gardiners.
Let's step into the shadow of these trees;
My Wretchedness unto a row of pins,

Enter;

Enter a Gardiner, and two Servants.
They'll talk of State ; for every one doth fo,
Against a Change ; woe is fore-run with mocks.

[Queen and Ladies retire.
Gard. Go, bind thou up yond dangling Apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their Sire
Stoop with oppreffion of their prodigal weight:
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and, like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our Common-wealth:
All must be even in our Governinent.
You thus imploy'd, I will go root away
The noisom weeds, that without profit fuck
The foil's fertility from wholfom Howers

Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a pale,
Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
Shewing, as in a model, s a firm ffate?
When our Sea-walled garden, (the whole Land)
Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choak'd up,
Her fruit-trees all unprun’d, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with Caterpillars ?

Gard. Hold thy peace.
He, that hath suffer'd this disorder'd Spring,

4 Against a Change; woe is fore-run with woe.) But what was there, in the Gardiners' talking of State, for matter of so much woe ? Besides, this is intended for a Sentence, but proves a very fimple one. I suppose Shakespear wrote,

woe is fore-run with MOCKS, which has some meaning in it; and signifies, chat, when great Men are on the decline, their inferiors take advantage of their condition, and treat them without ceremony. And this we find to be the case in the following scene. But the Editors were seeking for a rhime. Tho' had they not been so impatient they would have found it gingled to what followed, tho' it did not to what went before.

5 -OUR form Aate ?] How could he say ours when he immediately subjoins, that it was infirm? We should read anem a firm fate.

Hath

Hath now himself met with the Fall of leaf:
The weeds, that his broad-fpreading leaves did shelter,
(That seem'd, in eating him, to hold him up :)
Are pulld up, root and all, by Bolingbroke ;
I mean, the Earl of Wiltshire, Busby, Green.

Seri. What, are they dead?

Gard. They are, And Bolingbroke hath feiz'd the wasteful King. What pity is't, that he had not fo trimm'd And drest his Land, as we this Garden dress, And wound the bark, the skin, of our fruit-trees; Left, being over proud with fap and blood, With too much riches it confound it felf; Had he done fo to great and growing men, They might have liv'd to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty. All fuperfluous branches We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: Had he done fo, himself had born the Crown, Which waste and idle hours have quite thrown down. Sery. What, think you then, the King shall be

depos’d? Gard. Deprest he is already, and depos’d, 'Tis doubted, he will be. Letters last night Came to a dear friend of the Duke of York, That tell black tidings.

[speaking : Queen. Oh, I am prest to death, through want of Thou Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden, How dares thy tongue found this unpleasing news? What Eve, what Serpent hath suggested thee, To make a fecond Fall of curfed man? Why dost thou say, King Richard is depos’d? Dar’st thou, (thou little better Thing than earth,) Divine his downfal ? say, where, when, and how Cam’st thou by these ill tidings ? speak, thou wretch.

Gard. Pardon me, Madam. Little joy have I To breathe these news; yet, what I say, is true ; King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of