« PreviousContinue »
Ascend his throne, descending now from him, — And long live Henry, of that name the fourth! Boling. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
Car. Marry, God forbid ! Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Yet best beseeming 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 nobless would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. What subject can give sentence on his king? And who sits here, that is not Richard's subject' Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them: And shall the figure of God's majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath, And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God, That, in a Christian climate, souls refin'd Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'd up by heaven thus boldly for his king. My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king: And if you crown him, let me prophecy, The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul act; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind confound; Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny, Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd The field of Golgotha, and dead men's sculis. O, if you rear this house against this house, It will the woefullest division prove,
That ever fell upon this cursed earth
K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend knee : my Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me To this submission. Yet I well remember The favours of these iren: Were they not mine? Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me? So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelve thousand,
God save the king! - Will no man say, amen? Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen.
God save the king! although I be not he;
York. To do that office, of thine own good will,
K. Rich. Give me the crown:- - Here, cousin, seize the crown ;
this side, my hand; on that side, thine. Now is this golden crown like a deep well, That owes two buckets filling one another; The emptier ever dancing in the air, The other down, unseen, and full of water: That bucket down, and full of tears, am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign. K. Rich. My crown, am, but still my griefs are
You may my glories and my state depose,
K. Rich. Your cares set up, do not pluck my cares down. My care is - loss of care, by old care done; You care is gain of care, by new care won; The cares I give, I have, though given away; They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay
Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown? K. Rich. Ay, no; -no, ay; —for I must nothing be;
Therefore no, no, for I resign to thee.
No more, but that you read
K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out
And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, -
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
North. My lord, despatch; read o'er these articles. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much, But they can see a sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, I find myself a traitor with the rest: For I have given here my soul's consent, To undeck the pompous body of a king; Make glory base; and sovereignty, a slave; Proud majesty, a subject; state, a peasant. North. My lord,
K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, insulting
Re-enter Attendant, with a glass.
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face,
K. Rich. Then give me leave to go.
K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.
K. Rich. O, good! Convey? - Conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
[Exeunt K. RICHARD, Some Lords, and a Guard. Boling. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
[Exeunt all but the ABBOT, BISHOP OF CARLISLE, and AUMERLE.
Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, You shall not only take the sacrament To bury mine intents, but to effect Whatever I shall happen to devise: I see your brows are full of discontent, Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears; Come home with me to supper; I will lay A plot, shall show us all a merry day.
To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
Enter KING RICHARD and Guards. But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
My fair rose wither: Yet look up; behold;
To make my end too sudden learn, good soul,
Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but
I had been still a happy king of men.
North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end. Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith.
K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd?— Bad men, ye violate A twofold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me; And then, betwixt me and my married wife.. Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me; And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north, Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime; My wife to France; from whence, set forth in pomp, She came adorned hither like sweet May, Sent back like Hallowmas, or short'st of day.
Queen. And must we be divided? must we part K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!
York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious: Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home :
Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle. York. Aumerle that was; But that is lost, for being Richard's friend, And, madam, you must call him Rutland now : I am in parliament pledge for his truth, And lasting fealty to the new-made king.
Duch. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care
Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs and
God knows, I had as lief be none, as one.
York. Well, bear you well in this new spring of I would appeach him.
Hence, villain: never more come in my sight. [To the Servant.
York. Give me my boots, I say.
A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
Fond woman! were he twenty times my son
Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, That I have been disloyal to thy bed, And that he is a bastard, not thy son:
Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind : He is as like thee as a man may be, | Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him. York.
Make way, unruly woman. [Erit. Duch. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his horse;
Spur, post; and get before him to the king,
Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son? 'Tis full three months, since I did see him last; If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to God, my lords, he might be found:
I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
th held current, and defil'd himself!
York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;
Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this eager cry?
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? Duch. Sweet York, be patient Hear me, gentle liege. [Kneels.
Boling. Rise up, good aunt. Duch. Not yet, I thee beseech: For ever will I kneel upon my knees And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Aum. Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. [Kneels. York. Against them both, my true joints bended be. [Kneels.
Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest ; His words come from his mouth, ours from our
He prays but faintly, and would be denied ;