Page images
PDF
EPUB

Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd:
In your Lord's Scale is nothing but himself,
And fome few Vanities that make him light:
But in the Balance of great Bolingbroke,
Befides himself, are all the English Peers,
And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
Poft you to London, and you'll find it fo;
I speak no more, than every one doth know.

Queen. Nimble Mifchance, that art fo light of foot, Doth not thy Embaffage belong to me?

And am I laft, that know it? oh, thou think'st
To serve me laft, that I may longest keep
Thy forrow in my breaft. Come, ladies, go;
To meet, at London, London's King in woe.
What, was I born to this! that my fad Look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke!
Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe,
I would, the plants, thou graft'ft, may never grow.
[Exeunt Queen and Ladies.
Gard. Poor Queen, fo that thy ftate might be no worse,
I would my skill were fubject to thy Curse.
Here did the drop a tear; here, in this place,
I'll fet a bank of Rue, fow'r herb of grace;
Rue, ev'n for ruth, here fhortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping Queen.

[Ex. Gard, and Serv.

ACT

ACT IV.

SCENE I

In LONDON.

Enter, as to the Parliament, Bolingbroke, Aumerle, Northumberland, Percy, Fitzwater, Surrey, Bishop of Carlife, Abbot of Westminster, Herald, Officers, and Bagot.

BOLINGBROKE.

ALL Bagot forth: now freely speak thy mind, What thou doft know of noble Glo'fter's death; Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd The bloody office of his timeless end.

Bagot. Then fet before my face the lord Aumerle.
Boling. Coufin, ftand forth, and look upon that man.
Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scorns to unfay, what it hath once deliver'd.
In that dead time when Glo'fter's death was plotted,
I heard you fay, Is not my arm of length,
That reacheth from the reftful English Court
As far as Calais to my uncle's head?
Amongst much other talk that very time,
I heard you fay, You rather had refuse,
The offer of an hundred thousand crowns,
Than Bolingbroke return to England; adding,
How bleft this Land would be in this yourCoufin's death,
Aum. Princes, and noble lords,

What answer fhall I make to this base man?
Shall I fo much difhonour my fair stars,
On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I muft, or have mine honour foil'd
With the attainder of his fland'rous lips.

2

-his timeless end.] timeless for untimely.

my fair STARS,] I rather think it should be STEM, he being of the royal blood.

VOL. IV.

F

There

There is my Gage, the manual feal of death,
That marks thee out for hell. Thou lieft,
And I'll maintain what thou haft faid, is false,
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To ftain the temper of my knightly fword.
Boling. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it
up.
Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this prefence that hath mov'd me so.

Fitzw. If that thy valour stand on fympathies,
There is my Gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair Sun, that fhews me where thou ftand'st,
I heard thee fay, and vauntingly thou fpak'ft it,
That thou wert caufe of noble Glofter's death.
If thou deny'ft it, twenty times thou lieft;
And I will turn thy falfhood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.

Aum. Thou dar'ft not, coward, live to fee the day.
Fitzw. Now, by my foul, I would it were this hour.
Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.
Percy. Aumerle, thou lieft; his honour is as true,
In this appeal, as thou art all unjuft;

And that thou art fo, there I throw my Gage
To prove it on thee, to th' extreameft point
Of mortal breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'ft.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And never brandifh more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

.

Who fets me else? by heav'n, I'll throw at all.
I have a thousand fpirits in my breast,

To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Surrey. My lord Fitzwater, I remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.

Fitzw. My lord, 'tis true: you were in prefence then;

And you can witnefs with me, this is true.

3 Who fets me elfe?] Thefe three verfes are taken from the firft Edition.

Mr. Pope.

Surrey.

Surrey. As falfe, by heav'n, as heav'n it felf is true.

Fitzw. Surrey, thou lieft.

Surrey. Difhonourable boy,

That Lie fhall lye fo heavy on my fword,
That it shall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the life-giver, and that Lie, reft
In earth as quiet, as thy father's fcull.

In proof whereof, there is mine honour's pawn;
Engage it to the tryal, if thou dar'ft.

Fitzw. How fondly doft thou spur a forward horse?
If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
And fpit upon him, whilft I fay, 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.
Befides I heard the banish'd Norfolk fay,
That thou, Aumerle, didft fend two of thy men
To execute the noble Duke at Calais.

Aum. Some honeft chriftian truft me with a gage, That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.

Boling. Thefe Diff'rences fhall all reft under gage, Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he fhall be; And, though mine enemy, reftor'd again To all his Signiories; when he's return'd, Against Aumerle we will enforce his tryal. Carl. That honourable day fhall ne'er be feen. Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought For Jefu Chrift, in glorious chriftian field Streaming the Enfign of the chriftian Crofs, Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens : Then, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himfelf To Italy, and there at Venice gave

His body to that pleasant Country's earth,

[blocks in formation]

And his pure foul unto his captain Chrift,
Under whofe Colours he had fought fo long.
Boling. Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Carl. Sure as I live, my lord.

Boling. Sweet peace conduct his foul

To th' bofom of good Abraham!-Lords appealants, Your diff'rences fhall all reft under gage,

Till we affign you to your days of tryal.

S CEN E II.

Enter York.

York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume-pluckt Richard, who with willing foul
Adopts thee Heir, and his high Scepter yields
To the poffeffion of thy royal hand.

Afcend his Throne, defcending now from him,
And long live Henry, of that name the Fourth!
Boling. In God's name, I'll afcend the regal throne.
Carl. Marry, heav'n forbid!

'Worst in this royal prefence may I fpeak,
Yet beft befeeming 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 Nobleness would
Learn him forbearance from fo foul a wrong.
What Subject can give Sentence on his King?
And who fits here, that is not Richard's Subject?
Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear,
Although apparent guilt be feen in them..
And fhall the figure of God's Majefty,
His Captain, Steward, Deputy elect,
Anointed, crown'd, and planted many years,
Be judg'd by fubject and inferior breath,
And he himself not prefent? oh, forbid it!
That, in a chriftian climate, fouls refin'd
Should fhew fo heinous, black, obfcene a deed.

1

« PreviousContinue »