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I speak to Subjects, and a Subject speaks,
Stirr'd up by heav'n, 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 prophesie,
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 sculls.
Oh, if you rear this house againft this house,
It will the wofullest divifion prove,
That ever fell


this curfed earth. Prevent, resist it, let it not be fo, Left children's children cry against you, woe.

North. Well have you argu’d, Sir; and for your pains, Of capital treason we arrest you here. My lord of Westminster, be it your charge, To keep him safely till his day of tryal. * May't please you, lords, to grant the Commons' fuit?

Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view He may surrender : so we shall proceed Without suspicion. York. I will be his conduct.

[Exit. Boling. Lords, you that here are under our Arrest, Procure your sureties for your days of answer: Little are we beholden to your love, And little look'd for at your helping hands.

4 May't please you, lords, &c.] This Scene, where Richard is introduced, from these words, mav't please you, &c. to the fourth Scene of this Act, is entirely added since the firit Edition.

Mr. Pope.

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Enter King Richard, and York.
K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for

, to,a King,
Before I have lhook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn d.
T'insinuate, fatter, bow, and bend my knee.
Give forrow leave a-while, to tutor me.
To this submission. Yet, I well remember
The favours of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me?
So Judas did to Chrift: but he, in twelve, (none.
Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelve thousand,
God save the King != will no man fay, Amen?
Am I both priest and clark? well then, Amen.
God save the King, although. I. be not he :
And yet, Amen, if, heay n do think him me.
To do what service, am, I sent for hither?

York. To do that office of thine own goodwill,
Which tired Majesty did make thee offer:
The Resignation of thy, State and Crown.
K. Rich, Give me the Crown, Here, cousin,

seize the Crown,
Here, on 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, whilft, you mount up on high,

Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign.
K. Rich. My Crown, I am; but still my griefs are

But not my griefs ; ftill am I King of those. [Crown,
Boling: Part of your cares you give me with your

K. Rich.


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K. Rich. Your cares set up, do not pluck my cares

My care, is loss of care, by old care done ;
Your care, is gain of care, by new care won.
The cares 1 give, 1. 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 : :*
Therefore no No: for I resign to thee.
Now, mark me how I will undo my self;
I give this heavy weight from off my head;
And this unweildy Scepter from my hand;
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my Balm ;
With mine own hands I give away my Crown;

With mine own tongue deny my sacred State ;
. With mine own breath release all dutious oaths.

All pomp and Majesty I do forswear :
My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny :
God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!
God keep all vows-unbroke, are made to thee !
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grievod,
And thou with all pleas'd, that haft all archiev'd!
Long may'st thou live in Richard's Seat to fit,
And soon lye Richard in an carthy pit!
God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of fun-fhine days!
What more remains ?
North. No more ; but that


These accusations, and these grievous crimes
Committed by your person, and your followers,
Against the State and Profit of this Land:
That, by confesling them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily depos’d.

K. Rich. Muit I do fo? and must I ravel out
My weav'd-up follies ? Gentle Northumberland,

If thy offences were upon record,
Would it not shame thee, in fo fair a troop,
To read a lecture of them ? if thou would'st,
There should'st thou find one heinous article,
Containing the deposing of a King;
And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heav'n.
Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me,
Whilft that my wretchedness doth bait my self,
Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands,
Shewing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Have here deliver'd me to my sow'r Cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.

North. My lord, dispatch, read o'er these articles.

K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears : I cannot see: And yet falt-water blinds them not so much, s But they can see a Sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon my self, I find my self a traitor with the rest: For I have given here my soul's consent, T' undeck the pompous body of a King ; Made Glory bale; a Sovereign a Nave; Proud Majesty, a subject: State, a peasant, North. My lord

[man; K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught-insulting it Nor no man's lord: I have no Name, no Title ; No, not that Name was giv'n me at the Font, But 'tis usurp’d. Alack, the heavy day, That I have worn so many winters out, And know not now, what name to call my self! Oh, that I were a mockery-King of snow, Standing before the Sun of Bolingbroke, To melt my self away in water-drops ! Good King;—great King, ---(and yet not greatly good,) An if my word be sterling yet in England, (To Boling.

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Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may shew me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his Majesty.

Boling. Go some of you, and fetch a looking-glass.
North. Read o'er this paper, while the glass doth

[hell. K. Rich. Fiend, thou torment'st me, ere I come to Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland. North. The Commons will not then be satisfy'd.

K. Rich. They shall be satisfy'd: I'll read enough, When I do fee the very Book, indeed, Where all my fins are writ, and that's my self,

Enter One, with a Glass. Give me that Glass, and therein will I read. No deeper wrinkles yet? hath Sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine, And made no deeper wounds? oh, fatt'ring Glass ! Like to my Followers in prosperity, Thou doft beguile me. Was this face, the face That every day under his houfhold roof Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face, That, like the Sun, did make beholders wink? Is this the face, which fac'd so That was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke? A brittle Glory shineth in this face;

[Dafhes the Glass against the Ground. As brittle, as the glory, is the face; For there it is, crackt in an hundred shivers. Mark, silent King, the Moral of this sport; How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.

Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow of your face.

K. Rich. Say That again.
The shadow of my sorrow! ha, let's see;
'Tis very true, my grief lies all within ;
And these external manners of laments


many follies,

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