Surrey. As falfe, by heav'n, as heav'n it self is true. Fitzw. Surrey, thou lieft.

Surrey. Difhonourable boy,

That Lie fhall lye fo heavy on my fword,
That it fhall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the lie-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 fpur a forward horse? If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,

I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,

And spit upon him, whilft I fay, he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
To tie thee to my ftrong 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 shall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banifh'd Norfolk fought
For Jefu Chrift, in glorious chriftian field
Streaming the Enfign of the chriftian Cross,
Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
Then, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself
To Italy, and there at Venice gave

His body to that pleasant Country's earth,

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.

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, descending now from him,
And long live Henry, of that name the Fourth!
Boling. In God's name, Pll afcend the regal throne.
Carl. Marry, heav'n forbid!

'Worft in this royal prefence may I fpeak,
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 Noblenefs 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 himfelf not prefent? oh, forbid it!
That, in a chriftian climate, fouls refin'd
Should fhew fo heinous, black, obfcene a deed.

I

I fpeak 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 prophefie,
The blood of English fhall manure the ground,
And future ages groan for this foul act.
Peace fhall go fleep with Turks and Infidels,
And in this feat 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 fculls.
Oh, if you rear this houfe against this houfe,
It will the wofulleft divifion prove,
That ever fell upon this curfed earth.
Prevent, refift it, let it not be fo,

Left children's children cry againft you, woe.

North. Well have you argu'd, Sir; and for your pains, Of capital treafon we arrest you here.

My lord of Westminster, be it your charge,

To keep him fafely 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 furrender: fo we fhall proceed.

Without fufpicion.

York. I will be his conduct.

[Exit.

Boling. Lords, you that here are under our Arreft, Procure your fureties for your days of answer: Little are we beholden to your love,

And little look'd for at your helping hands.

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

F 3

Mr. Pope.

SCENE

SCEN

E III.

Enter King Richard, and York.

K. Rich. Alack, why am I fent for to a King,
Before I have fhook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
T' infinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
Give forrow leave a-while, to tutor me

To this fubmiffion. Yet I well remember
The favours of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not fometime 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 fave the King! - will no man say, Amen?
Am I both priest and clark? well then, Amen.
God fave the King, although I be not he:
And yet, Amen, if heav'n do think him me.
To do what service, am I fent for hither?
York. To do that office of thine own good will,
Which tired Majefty did make thee offer:
The Refignation of thy State and Crown.
K. Rich. Give me the Crown.

feize the Crown,

Here, coufin,

Here, on this fide, my hand; on that fide, 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, unfeen 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 refign.
K. Rich. My Crown, I am; but ftill my griefs are

mine:

You may my Glories, and my State depose,
But not my griefs; ftill am I King of those. [Crown.
Boling. Part of your cares you give me with your

K. Rich.

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

down.

My care, is lofs of care, by old care done;
Your care, is gain of care, by new care won.
The cares I give, I have, though given away;
They tend the Crown, yet ftill with me they ftay.
Boling. Are you contented to refign the Crown?
K. Rich. Ay, no ;-no, ay ;-for I muft Nothing be:
Therefore no No: for I refign to thee.
Now, mark me how I will undo my
felf;
I give this heavy weight from off my head;
And this unweildy Scepter from my hand;
The pride of kingly fway 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 facred State;
With mine own breath release all dutious oaths.
All pomp and Majefty I do forfwear:
My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
My acts, decrees, and ftatutes 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 griev'd,
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all atchiev'd!
Long may'ft thou live in Richard's Seat to fit,
And foon lye Richard in an earthy pit!

God fave King Henry, unking'd Richard fays,
And fend him many years of fun-fhine days
What more remains?

North. No more; but that you read
These accufations, and thefe grievous crimes
Committed by your perfon, and your followers,
Against the State and Profit of this Land:
That, by confeffing them, the fouls of men
May deem that you are worthily depos'd.

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