Upon the graffie carpet of this Plain ; Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum, Our fair appointments may be well perus'd. Of fire and water, when their thund'ring Shock, Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish. See! fee! King Richard doth himself appear, Of his bright paffage to the Occident. York. Yet looks he like a King: behold his eye; As bright as is the Eagle's, lightens forth Controlling Majefty; alack, for woe, That any harm should stain fo fair a fhow! K. Rich. We are amaz'd, and thus long have we stood To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To North. And though you think, that all, as you have done,. And we are barren, and bereft of friends: C 3 Yet Yet know, My Mafter, God omnipotent, But ere the Crown, he looks for, live in peace, (8) Her Pafture's grafs with faithful English blood. North. The King of heav'n forbid, our lord the King Should fo with civil and uncivil arms Be rush'd upon! no, thy thrice-noble coufin, (8) But e'er the Crown, he looks for, live in Peace, Shall ill become the Flow'r of England's face;] Tho' I have not difturb'd the Text here, I cannot but think it liable to Sufpicion. A Crown living in Peace, as Mr. Warburton justly obferv'd to me, is a very odd Phrafe. He fuppofes; But e're the Crown, he looks for, light in Peace, i. e. defcend and fettle upon Bolingbroke's Head in Peace. Again, I have a fmall Quarrel to the third Line quoted. Would the Poet fay, That bloody Crowns fhould disfigure the Flow'rs that fpring on the Ground, and bedew the Grass with Blood? Surely, the two Images are too fimilar. I have fufpe&ted, Shall ill become the Floor of England's Face; i. e. Shall make a difmal Spectacle on the Surface of the Kingdom's Earth, (Cur (Currents, that fpring from one moft gracious head) K. Rich. Northumberland, say, thus the King re turns: His noble Coufin is right-welcome hither, [To Aum. Aum. No, good my lord, let's fight with gentle words, Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords. K. Rich. Oh God, oh God! that e'er this tongue of mine, That laid the Sentence of dread Banishment On yond proud man, fhould take it off again With words of Sooth; oh, that I were as great Or not remember what I must be now! Swell'ft thou, proud heart? I'll give thee fcope to beat, Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. K. Rich. What must the King do now ? must he fubmit? The King fhall do it: muft he be depos'd? (9) Or I'll be buried in the King's high way; Some Way of common Trade, -] As fpecious as this Reading appears, Mr. Warburton, Mr. Bishop, and I, all concurr'd in suspecting it, and in the Amendment which ́now posfeffes the Text; Some way of common Tread, i. e. a high Road. He fubjoins immediately; For on my heart they tread now, while I live; And we know how much it is Shakespeare's way to diversify the Image with the fame Word. What What fays King Bolingbroke? will his Majefty North. My lord, in the base court he doth attend To speak with you, may't please you to come down. K. Rich. Down, down I come; like glift'ring Phaeton Wanting the manage of unruly jades. In the base court? bafe court, where Kings grow base, To come at traitors' Calls, and do them grace. In the bafe court come down? down, court; down, King;; For Night-owls fhriek, where mounting Larks. fhould fing. Boling. What fays his Majefty ? North. Sorrow, and Grief of Heart, Makes him speak fondly, like a frantick Man ; Yet is he come. Boling. Stand all apart, And fhew fair duty to his Majefty. My gracious lord [Kneels K. Rich. Fair coufin, you debafe your princely knee,. To make the base earth proud with kiffing it. Me rather had, my heart might feel your love, Than my unpleas'd eye fee your courtefie. Up, coufin, up; your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, although your knee be low. Boling. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.. K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. Boling. So far be mine, my moft redoubted lord, As my true fervice fhall deferve your love. K: Rich. Well you deserve: they well deferve to have,.. That know the strong'st and surest way to get. Uncle, give me your hand; nay, dry your eyes ; Tears fhew their love, but want their remedies. Coufin, I am too young to be your father, Though you are old enough to be my heir. What you will have, I'll give, and willing too; For do we muft, what force will have us do. Set on towards London. Coufin, is it fo ? Boling. Yea, my good lord. K. Rich. Then I must not fay, no. [Flourish. Exeunt. C 5 SCENE |