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He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. Duch. (Witkin.) Wbat ho, my liege! for God's Boling. As dissolute, as desperate: yet, through sake let me in. both

Boling. What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this I see some sparkles of a better hope,

eager cry? Which elder days may happily bring forth. Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; But who comes here?

Mis I.
Enter Aumerle, hastily.

Speak with me, pity me, open the door;

A beggar bers, that never beeg'd before. Aum.

Where is the king ? Boling.

What means

Boling. Our scene is alter'd,-from a serious

thing, Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? Aun. God save your grace. I do beseech your My dangerous cousin, let your mother in ;

And now chang'd to The Bezgar and the King.'majesty, To have some conference with your grace alone. 11 know, she's come to pray for your foul sin.

York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper mar. alone.

(Ereunt Percy and lords. This fester'd joint cut off, the rest re-is sound; What is the matter with our cousin now?

This, let alone, will all the rest consound. Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,


Enter Duchess.
My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak.

Duch. O, king, believe not this hard-hearted Boling. Intended, or committed, was this fault?

man; If but the first, how heinous e'er it be,

Love, loving not itself, none other can. To win thy aster-love, I pardon thee.

York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, Shall thy

old dugs once more a trai'or rear?

makes here? That no man enter till my tale be done. Boling. Have thy desire. (Aum. Locks the door.

Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gen. York. (Within.) My liege, beware; look to

tle liege.

[Kneels. thyself;

Boling. Rise up, good aunt. Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.


Not yet, I thee beseech: Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. (Drawing. For ever will I kneel upon my knees, Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;

And never see day that the happy sees, Thou hast no cause to fear.

Till thou give jov; until thou bid me joy,, York. (Within.) Open the door, secure, fool- By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing bov. hardy king :

Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?

knee. Open the door, or I will break it open.

York. Against them both, my true joints hended

be. (Bolingbroke opens the door.

(Kneels Jil may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Enter York.

Duch, Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; Boling. What is the matter, uncle ? speak; His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, His words come from his mouih, ours from our That we may arm us to encounter it.

breast: York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt He prays but faintly, and would be denied ; know

We pray with heart, and soul, and all beside: The treason that my haste forbids me show. His weary joints would gladly rise, I know ; Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow: past :

His pravers are full of false hypocrisy; I do repent me; read not my name there, Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity. My heart is not confederate with iny hand. Our prayers do out-pry his; then let them have York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it That mercy, which true prayers ought to have. down.

Boling. Good aunt, stand up. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king:


Nay, do not say-stand up; Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: But, pardon, first; and afterwards, stand up. Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove

An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, A serpent that will sting thee to ihe heart. Pardon-should be the first word of thy speech. Boling. Oheinous, strong, and bold conspi- I never long'd to hear a word till now; racy!

Say-pardon, king; let pity teach thee how: Joval father of a treacherous son!

The word is short, but not so short as sweet; Thou sheer,' immaculate, and silver fountain, No word like pardon, for kings' mouths so meet. From whence this stream through muddy passages, York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardonne: Hath held his current, and defil'd himself!

moy." Thv overflow of good converts to bad;

Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to deAnd thy abundant goodness shall excuse

stroy? This deadly blot in thy digressing? son.

Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; That set'st the word itself against the word ! And he shall spend mine honour with his shame, Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land; As thriftless song their scraping fathers' gold. The chopping French we do not unde stand. Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, Thine eve begins to speak, set thy tongue there: Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies : Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath, That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearse.

Boling. Good aunt, stand up. (1) Transparent.

(2) Transgressing. (3) An old ballad. (4) Do.

(5) Excuse mne.

me ;


I do not sue to stand, That many hare, and others must sit there :
Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee ! Of such as have before endur'd the like.
Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;

Thus play 1, in one person, many people, Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain, And none contented': Sometimes am I king; But makes one pardon strong.

T'hen treason makes me wish myself a beggar, Boling:

With all my heart And so I am: Then crushing penury I pardon him.

Persuades me I was better when a king; Duch. A god on earth thou art. Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by, Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,—and Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, the abbot,

And straight am nothing :- But, whale'er I am, With all the rest of that consorted crew,

Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd, Good uncle, help to order several powers! With being nothing.-Music do I hear ? (Music. To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are: Ha, ha! keep time:-How sour sweet music is, They shall not live within this world, I swear,

When time is broke, and no proportion kept ! But I will have them, if I once know where.

So is it in the music of men's lives.
Uncle, farewell,--and cousin too, adieu :

And here have I the daintiness of ear,
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. To check time broke in a disorder'd string ;
Duch. Come, my old son ;-) pray God make But, for the concord of my state and time,
thee new.

(Exeunt. Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. SCENE IV.-Enter Exton, and a Servant.

For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock: Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, they jars he spake?

Their watches on lo mine eyes, the outward waich, Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear ? Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Was it not so ?

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Serv.

Those were his very words. Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is, Exton. Have I no friend ? quoth he: he spake Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart, it twice,

Which is the bell; So sighs, and tears, and groans, And urg'd it twice together; did he not? Show minutes, times, and hours:- but my time Serv. He did.

Runs posting on in Boling broke's proud joy, Ecton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd on While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the clock.

This music mads me, let it sound no more; As who should say, -I would, thou wert the man For, though it have holp madmen to their wits, That would divor this terror from my heart; In me, it seems vill ke wise men mad. Meaning, the king at Pomsret. Come, let's go; Yet blessing on his heart inat gives it me! I am the king's friend, and will rid his foc. (Ełe. For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard

Is a strange brooch' in this all-hating world. SCENE V.-Pomfret. The dungeon of the castle. Enter King Richard.

Enter Groom. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may com Groom. Hail, royal prince! pare

K. Rich.

Thanks, noble peer ; This prison, where I live, unto the world : The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. And, for because the world is populous,

What art thou ? and how comest thou hither, And here is not a creature but mysell,

Where no man never comes, but that sad dog I cannot do it ;-Yet I'li hammer it out.

That brings me food, to make misfortune live ? My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;

Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, My soul, the father : and these two beget When thou wert king; who, travelling towards A generation of still-breeding thoughts,

And these same thoughts people this little world ;With much ado, at length have gotten leave
In humours, like the people of this world, To look upon my sometimes master's face.
For no thought is contented. The better sort, 0, how it yearn'd my heart, when I beheld,
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd In London streets, that coronation day,
With scruples, and do set the word itself When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!
Against the word : 1

That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid;
As thus, - Come, little ones ; and then again, That horse, that I so carefully have dress'd!
It is as hard to come, as for a camel

K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle To thread the posterns of a needle's eye.

friend, Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot How went be under him? Unlikely wonders : how these vain weak nails Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. May tear a passage through the finty ribs

K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his Or this hard world, my ragged prison walls;

back! And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; Thoughts tending to content, Natter themselves,- This hand hath made bim proud with clapping That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,

him. Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beygars, Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down Who, silling in the stocks, resuge their shame,- (Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck

Of that proud man that did usurp his back? (1) Forces.

(2) His own body. (3) Holy scripture. (4) Little gate. (5) Tick. (7) An ornamented buckle, and also a jewel in ) Strike for him, like the figure of a man on general.

(8) Former.

a belt.

Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee, Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,

Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spur-gall’d, and lir'd, by jauncing Boling broke.

Enter Fitzwater.
Enter Keeper, with a dish.

Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to LonKeep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay. The heads of Brocas, and sir Bennet Seely;



[To the Groom. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.

Two of the dangerous and consorled traitors, Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my Right noble is thy merit, well I'wot.

Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot, heart shall say: Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.

Enter Percy, with the Bishop of Carlisle. Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton, Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westwho

minster, Lately came from the king, commands the contrary. With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and Hath yielded up his body to the grave; thee !

But here is Carlisle, living, to abide. Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.

(Beats the Keeper. Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom :Keep. Help, help, help!

Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, Enter Exton, and servants, armed.

More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;

So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife: K. Rich. How now? what means death in this for though mine enemy thou hast ever been, rude assault ?

High sparks of honour in thee have I seen, Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.

(Snatching a weapon, and killing one. Enter Exton, with attendants bearing a coffin. Go thou, and till another room in hell.

(He kills another, then Exton strikes him down. Exton, Great king, within this coffin I present That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire,

Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies That staggers thus my person.-Exton, thy fierce The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, hand

Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought. Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own

Boling. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast land.

wrought Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high; A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand, Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. Upon my head, and all this famous land.

[Dies. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I Exton. As full of valour, as of royal blood :

this deed. Both have I spilt; O, would the deed were good! Nor do i thee; though I did wish him dead,

Boling. They love not poison that do poison need, For now the devil, that told me I did well, Says, that this deed is chronicled in hell.

I hate the murderer, love him murdered. This dead king to the living king I'll bear;

The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. But neither my good word, nor princely favour:

[Exeunt. With Cain go wander through the shade of night,

And never show thy head by day nor night.SCENE VI.-Windsor. A room in the castle. Lords, I protest, my soul is full of wo,

Flourish. Enter Bolingbroke, and York, with That blood should sprinkle me, to make me grow: lords and altendants.

Come, inourn with me for what I do lament, Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear And put on sullen black incontinent ;3 Is-that the rebels have consum'd with fire I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, Our town of Cicester in Glostershire;

To wash this blood off from my guilty hand :But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear not.

March sadly after; grace my mournings here,
In weeping after this untimely bier.

Enter Northumberland.
Welcome, my lord: What is the news ?
North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all hap-

piness. The next news is, I have to London sent

This play is one of those which Shakspeare has The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent: apparently revised; but as success in works of inThe manner of their taking may appear

vention is not always proportionate to labour, it is At large discoursed in this paper here.

not finished at last with the happy force of some (Presenting a paper.

other of his tragedies, nor can be said much to as

fect the passions, or enlarge the understanding. (1) Jaunting (2) Immediately.





King Henry the Fourth.
Henry, prince of Wales,

, } sons to the king.
Earl of Westmoreland, } friends to the king.
Sir Walter Blunt,
Thomas Percy, earl of Worcester,
Henry Percy, earl of Northumberland.
Henry Percy, surnamed Hotspur, his son.
Edmund Mortimer, earl of Murch.
Scroop, archbishop of York.
Archibald, earl of Douglass.
Owen Glendower.
Sir Richard Vernon.
Sir John Falstaff.

Peto. Bardolph.
Lady Percy, wife to Hotspur, and sister to Mor-

Lady Mortimer, daughter to Glendower, and wife

lo Mortimer. Mrs. Quickly, hostess of u tavern in Eastcheap. Lords, Cificers, Sheriff, Vintner, Chamberlain,

Drawers, two Carriers, Travellers, and Ata tendants.

Scene, England.


West. My liege, this haste was hot in question,

And many limits of the charge set down SCENE,I.-London. A room in the palace. But yesternight : when, all athwart, there came

Enter King Henry, Westmoreland, Sir Walter A post from Wales, loaden with heavy news; Blunt, and others.

Whose worst was,-that the noble Mortimer,

Leading the men of Herefordshire to fight
King Henry.

Against the irregular and wild Glendower,

Was by the rude hands of that Welshman taken, So shaken as we are, so wan with care,

And a thousand of his people butchered: Find we a tiine for frighted peace to pant,

Upon whose dead corps there was such misuse, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils

Such beastly, shameless transformation, To be commenc'd in stronds' afar remote.

By those Welshwomen done, as may not be, No more the thirsty Erinnys' of this soil

Without much shame, re-told or spoken of. Shall daub her lips with her own children's blood;

K. Hen. It seems then, that the tidings of this No more shall trenching war channel her fields,

broil Nr bruise her dowrets with the armed hoofs

Brake off our business for the Holy Land. Of hostile paces; those opposed eyes,

West. This, match'd with other, did, my gram Which-like the meteors of a troubled heaven,

cious lord; All of one nature, of one substance bred,

For more uneven and unwelcome news Did lately meet in the intestine shock

Came from the north, and thus it did import. And furious close of civil butchery,

On Holy-rood day,' the gallant Hotspur there, Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks,

Young Harry Percy, and brave Archibald, March all one way; and be no more oppos'd

That ever-valiant and approved Scot, Azainst acquaintance, kindred, and allies :

At Holmedon met, The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife,

Where they did spend a sad and bloody hour ; No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, As by discharge of their artillery, As far as to the sepulchre of Christ

And shape of likelihood, the news was told; (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross

For he that brought them, in the very heat We are impressed and engag'd to fight,).

And pride of their contention did take horse, Forthwith a power of English shall we levy;

Uncertain of the issue any way. Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' womb|

K. Hen. Here is a dear and true-industrious To chase these pagans, in those holy fields,

friend, Over whose acres walk'd those blesscu feet,

Sir Walter Blunt, new lighted from his horse, Which, fourteen hundred years ago, were naild, Staira with the variation of each soil For our advantage, on the bitter cross.

Betwixt that Holmcdon and this seat of ours; Bit this our purpose is a twelve-month old,

And he hath brought us smooth and welcome news. And bootless' 'lis to tell you-we will go;

The earl of Donglass is discomfited ; Therefore we meet not now:- Then let me hear

Ten thousand bold Scots, two and twenty knights, of you, my gentle cousin Westmoreland,

Balk'd' in their own blood, did sir Walter see What yesterniht our council did decree,

On Holmedon's plains: Os prisoners, Hotspur took In forwarding this dear expedience.s

Mordake the earl of Fife, and eldest son (1) Strands, banks of the sea,

(6) Estimates. (7) September 14. (2) The Fury of discord.

(5) Covered with dirt of different colours, (3) Force, army. (4) Needless. (5) Expedition.! (9) Mied up in a heap.

To beaten Douglas; and the earls of Athol, Fal. Marry, then, sweet wag, when thou art Or Murray, Angus, and Menteith.

king, let not us, that are squires of the night's body, And is not this an honourable spoil ?

be called thieves of the day's beauty; let us beA gallant prize ? ha, cousin, is ii not?

Diana's foreslers, gentlemen of the shade, minWest. In faith,

ions of the moon: And let men say, we be men It is a conquest for a prince to boast of.

of good government: being govern'd as the sea is, K. Hen" Yea, there thou mak’st me sad, and by our noble and chaste mistress the moon, under mak'st me sin

whose countenance we-steal. In envy that my lord Northumberland

P. Hen. Thou say'st well; and it holds well too: Should be the father of' so blest a son:

for the fortune of us, that are the moon's men, A son who is the theme of honour's tongue; doth ebb and now like the sea; being governed as Amongst a grove, the very straightest plant; the sea is, by the moon. As, for proof, now: A Who is sweet fortune's minion, and her pride : purse of gold most resolutely snatch'd on Monday Whilst I, by looking on the praise of tim, night, and most dissolutely spent on Tuesday See riot and dishonour stain the brow

morning ; got with swearinz-lay by ;- and spent of my young Harry. O, that it could be prov'd, with crying-bring in :' now, in as low an ebb as That some night-tripping fairy had exchang'd the foot of the ladder; and, by and by, in as high In cradle-clothes our children where they lay, a flow as the ridge of the gallows. And call'd mine--Percy, his-Plantagenet! Fal. By the Lord, thou say'st true, lad. And is Then would I have bis Harry, and he mine. not my hostess of the tavern a most suveel wench? But let him from my thoughls ;-What think you, P. Hen. As the honey of Hybla, my old lad of coz,

the castle. And is not a buff jerkin a most sweet Or this young Percy's pride ? the prisoners, robe of durance ? Which he in this adventure hath surpris'd,

Fal. How now,

how now, mad wag? what, in To his own use he keeps ; and sends me word, thy quips, and thy quiddities? what a plague have I shall have none but Mordake earl of Fire. I to do with a buit jerkin? West. This is his uncle's teaching, this is Wor- P. Hen. Why, what a pox have I to do with my cester,

hostess of the taveru? Malevolent to you in all aspects;'

Fal. Well, thou hast called her to a reckoning, Which makes him prune himself, and bristle up many a time and of. The crest of youth against your dignity.

P. Hen. Did I ever call for thee to pay thy part ? K. Hen. But I have sent for him to answer this; Fal. No; I'll give thee thy due, thou hast paid And, for this cause, a while we must neglect all there. Our holy purpose to Jerusalem.

P. Hen. Yea, and elsewhere, so far as my coin Cousin, on Wednesday next our council we would stretch ; and, where it would not, I have Will nold at Windsor, so inform the lords : used my credit. But come yourself with speed to us again ;

Fal. Yea, and so used it, that were it not here For more is to be said, and to be done,

apparent that thou art heir apparen',-But, I Than out of anger can be uttered.

pr’ythee, sweet wag, shall there be gallows standWest. I will, my liege.

(Exeunt. ing in England when thou art king? and resolu.

tion thus fcbbed as it is, with the rusty curb of old SCENE II.- The same. Another room in the father antic the law ? Do not thou, when thou art

palace. Enter Henry Prince of Wales, and king, hang a thief. Falstaff.

P. Hen. No; thou shalt.

Fal. Shall I ?'O rare! By the lord I'll be a brave Fal. Now, Hal, what time of day is it, lad ? judge. P. Hen. Thou art so sat-witted, with drinking p. Hen. Thou judgest false already ; I mean, of old sack, and unbuttoning thee aster supper, and thou shalt have the hanging of the thieves, and so sleeping upon benches after noon, that thou hast become a rare hangman. forgolten to demand that truly which thou would'st Fal. Well, Hal, well; and in some sort it jumps truly know. What a devil hast thou to do with with my humour, as well as waiting in the court, I the time of the day? unless hours were cups of can tell you. sack, and minutes capons, and clocks the tongues P. Hen. For obtaining of suits ? of ba wds, and dials the signs of leaping-houses, Fal. Yea, for obtaining of suits : whereof the and the blessed sun himself a sair hot wench in hangman hath no lean wardrobe. 'Sblood, I am Name-colour'd taffeta ; I see no reason, why thou as melancholy as a gib' cat, or a lugged bear. should'st be so superduous to demand the time of P. Hen. Or an old lion; or a lover's lute. the day:

Fal. Yea, or the drone of a Lincolnshire bagpipe.. Fal. Indeed, you come near me, now, Hal: for P. Hen. What savest thou to a hare, or the We, that take purses, 20 by the moon and seven inelancholy of Moor-ditch? stars; and not by Phalus,--he, that wandering Fal. Thou hast the most unsavoury similes; and knight so fair. And, I pray thee, sweet wag, art, indeed, the most comnarative, rascalliest, when thou art king, -as, God save thy grace sweet youný prince, -But, Hal, I prythee, trouble (majesty, I should say; for grace thou wilt "have me no more with vanily. I would to God, thou none,

and I knew where a commodity of good names P. Her. What, none ?

were to be boughi: An old lord of the council ra. Fal. No, by my troth ; not so much as will ted me the other day in the street about you, sir; serve to be prologue to an egg and butter. but I marked him not: and yet he talked very

P. Hen.' Well, how then ? come, roundly, wisely; but I regarded him not: and yet he talked roundly.

wisely, and in the street too. (1) Points. (2) Trim, as birds clean their feathers. (7) Gib cal, should be lib cal,-a Scotch term (3) Favourites. (4) Stand still. (5) More wine. at this day for a gelded cat. (6) The dress of sheritis oflicers.

(8) Croak of a frog

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