Aum. Is Bufbie, Greene, and the earle of Wiltshire dead?
Scro. Yea, all of them at Bristow loft their heads.
Au. Where is the duke my father with his power?
King. No matter where, of comfort no man speake.
Lets talke of graues, of wormes, and epitaphs,
Make duft our paper, and with rainie eyes
Write forrow on † the bofome of the earth.
Lets choose executors and talke of wils:
And yet not fo, for what can we bequeath,
Saue our depofed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our liues, and all are Bullingbrookes,
And nothing can we call our owne, but death,
And that fmall modell of the barren earth,
Which ferues as paft || and couer to our bones.
For Gods fake let vs fit vpon the ground?
And tell fad ftories of the death of kings,
How fome haue beene depofde, fome flaine in warre,
Some haunted by the ghosts they haue deposed,
Some poyfoned by their wiues, fome sleeping kild,
All murthered: for within the hollow crowne
That rounds the mortall temples of a king,
Keepes death his court, and there the antique fits,
Scoffing his ftate, and grinning at his pompe,
Allowing him a breath, a little fceane,

To monarchife, be feard, and kill with lookes,
Infufing him with felfe and vaine conceit,
As if this flesh which walles about our life,
Were braffe impregnable: and humord thus,
Comes at the laft, and with a little pin

Bores through his caftle walles, and farewell king.
Couer your heads, and mocke not flesh and blood,
With folemne reuerence throw away refpect,

Tradition, forme, and ceremonious dutie,

For you haue but mistooke me all this while,
I liue with bread like you, feele want,
Taft griefe, need friends: fubiected thus,
How can you fay to mee, I am a king?

Carl. My lord, wife-men ne're fit and † waile their woes But presently preuent the waies to waile,

To feare the foe, fince feare oppreffeth strength,
Giues in your weakeneffe ftrength vnto your foe,
And fo your follies fight against your felfe:
Feare, and be flaine, no worse can come to fight:
And fight and die, is death destroying death,
Where fearing dying, paies death feruile breath.
Aum. My father hath a power, inquire of him,

And learne to make a body of a limme.

King. Thou chidst me well; proud Bullingbrooke, I come To change blowes with thee for our day of doome: This ague-fit of feare is ouerblowne,

An eafie taske it is to winne our owne.

Say Scroope, where lies our vnckle with his power?
Speake fweetly man, although thy lookes be fower.
Scroope. Men iudge by the complexion of the skie,
The state and inclination of the day;

So may you by my dull and heauy eye:
My tongue hath but a heauier tale to fay,
I play the torturer by fmall and fmall,

To lengthen out the worft that must be spoken:
Your vnckle Yorke is ioyn'd with Bullingbrooke,
And all your northerne caftles yeelded vp,
And all your foutherne gentlemen in armes

Vpon his partie §.

King. Thou haft fayd enough:

Befhrew thee coolin which didft lead me foorth

Of that fweet way I was in to dispaire.

tfit and omitted their prefent || emitted in the fourth edition faction

Z3

What

What fay you now? what comfort haue we now?
By heauen Ile hate him euerlaftingly,

That bids me be of comfort any more,
Goe to Flint caftle, there ile pine away,
A king woes flaue, fhall kingly woe obey:
That power I haue; discharge, and let them go
To eare the land that hath some hope to grow:
For I haue none; let no man fpeake againe

To alter this, for counfell is but vaine.

Aum. My liege one word.

King. He does me double wrong,

That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue :
Discharge my followers, let them hence away,
From Richards night, to Bullingbrookes faire day.

Enter Bull, Yorke, North.

Bull. So that by this intelligence we learne,
The Welchmen are difpearft, and Salisbury
Is gone to meete the king, who lately landed
With fome few priuate friends, vpon this coast.
North. The newes is very faire and good, my lord:
Richard not farre from hence hath hid his head.
Yorke. It would befeeme the lord Northumberland,
To fay, king Richard, alacke the heauie day,
When fuch a facred king, thould hide his head.
North. Your grace mistakes; onely to be briefe,

Left I his title out.

Yor. The time hath bin, bould || you haue bin fo bricfe

with him

He would haue bin fo briefe § to shorten you,

For taking fo the head, your whole heads length.
Bul. Miftake not (vackle) further then you should.

Scaena Tertia.

this

Enter with drums, colours, &c. with attendants.
I would § briefe with you

Yorke.

Yorke. Take not (good coolin) further then you should Leaft you mistake the heauens are ouer your * heads.

Bul. I know it vnckle, and oppose not my felfe Against their willes. But, who comes heere?

Enter Percy.

Welcome Harry what, will not this caftle yeeld?
Hen. Per. The castle is royally † mand my lord.
Against thy entrance.

Bull. Royally, why it containes no king.
H. Per. Yes (my good lord)

It doth containe a king, king Richard lies
With the limits of yon lime and ftone,

And with him the lord Aumerle, Lord Salisburie,
Sir Stephen Scroope, befides a cleargie man
Of holie reuerence, who I cannot learne.

North. Oh belike it is the bifhop of Carleile.
Bul. Noble lords ||,

Go to the rude ribbes of that ancient castle,
Through brafen trumpet fend the breath of parlee $
Into his ruinde 'eares, and thus deliuer.

H. Bul. on both his knees **, doth kiffe king Richards hand
And fends alleageance and true faith of heart

To his royall perfon: hither come

Euen at his feete, to lay my armes and power:
Prouided, that my banishment repeald,
And lands restored againe be freely graunted;
If not, Ile vse the aduantage of my power,

And lay the fummers duft with showres of blood,
Raind from the wounds of flaughtered Englifhmen?
The which, how far off from the mind of Bullingbrooke
It is, fuch chrimson tempeft should be drencht

o'er our

+ royally is 1Wilbin 7 lord

** Henry Bulling broke upon bis knees + Unto bis moft

§ parle

bedrench

The fresh greene lap of faire king Richards land,
My stooping dutie tenderlie fhall shew.

Go fignifie as much, while here we march
Vpon the graffie carpet of this plaine;

Lets march without the noyfe of threatning drumme,
That from this caftles tattered* battlements,
Our faire appointments may be well perufd.
Me thinks king Richard and my felfe should meete
With no leffe terrour then the elements

Of fire and water, when their thundring fmoake,
At meeting teares the cloudy cheekes of heauen.
Be he the fire, Ile be the yeelding water;
The rage be his, whilft on the earth I raigne †
My water's on the earth, and not on him :
March on, and marke king Richard how he lookes.

The trumpet found. Richard appeareth on the walles. ‡
Bull. See, fee, king Richard doth himselfe appeare,
As doth the blufhing difcontented funne

From out the fierie portall of the east,

When he perceiues the enuious clouds are bent
To dimme his glorie, and to ftaine the tracke

Of his bright paffage to the occident.

Yorke. Yet lookes he like a king, behold his eye, As bright as is the eagles, lightens foorth

Controlling majestie; alacke § for woe,

fo

That any harme fhould flaine so faire a fhew.

King. We are amazd, and thus long haue we ftood,

To watch the fearefull bending of thy knee,

Because we thought our felfe the ** lawfull king :
And if we be, how dare thy ioynts forget

To pay their tt awefull dutie to §§ our presence?

tottered

traine

Parle without, and answer within, then a flourish.

Enter on the walles Richard, Carlile, Aumerle, Scroop, Salisbury.

Salacke alacke

** tby

trac