K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught-infulting man; Nor no man's lord: I have no Name, no Title; To meit my felf away in water-drops! Good King,great King, (and yet not greatly good,) That it may fhew me what a face I have, Boling. Go fome of you, and fetch a looking glafs. come. K. Rich. Fiend, thou torment'ft me, ere I come to hell. Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland. North. The Commons will not then be fatisfy'd. K. Rich. They thall be fatisfy'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 Glafs, and therein will I read. And made no deeper wounds? oh, flatt'ring Glass ! * Thou doft beguile me. Was this face, the face Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face, [Dashes the Glafs against the Ground. As 1 As brittle, as the glory, is the face; For there it is, crackt in an hundred fhivers, K. Rich. Say That again. The shadow of my forrow! ha, let's fee; Boling. Name it, fair Coufin. K. Rich. Fair Coufin ! I am greater than a King: For when I was a King, my flatterers Were then but Subjects; being now a Subject, I have a King here to my flatterer : Being fo great, I have no need to beg. Boling. Yet ask. K. Rich. And fhall I have ?* Boling. You fhall. K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. Boling. Whither? K. Rich. Whither you will, fo I were from your fight, you all, - Conveyers are That rife thus nimbly by a true King's Fall. Boling. On Wednesday next we folemnly fet down Our Coronation: lords, prepare your felves. [Ex. all but Abbot, Bishop of Carlisle and Aumerle. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Bishop. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. Aum. Aum. You holy Clergy-men, is there no Plot Abbot. Before I freely fpeak my mind herein, I fee, your brows are full of discontent, AC TV. [Exeunt. SCENE, a Street in LONDON. T QUEEN. HIS way the King will come: this is the way To whofe flint bofom my condemned lord Enter King Richard, and Guards. But foft, but fee, or rather do not fee, [To K. Rich. K. Rich. K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair Woman, do not fo, From which awak'd, the truth of what we are To grim Neceffity; and he and I Will keep a league till death. Hye thee to France, And cloifter thee in fome Religious House; Our holy lives muft win a new world's Crown, Which our profane hours here have stricken down. Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd and weak? hath Bolingbroke depos'd Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart? The Lion, dying, thrufteth forth his paw, And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o'erpow'r'd: and wilt thou, pupil-like, Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod, And fawn on rage with bafe humility, Which art a Lion and a King of beafts? K. Rich. A King of beafts, indeed; if aught but beafts, I had been still a happy King of men. Good fometime Queen, prepare thee hence for France; With good old folks, and let them tell thee Tales And ere thou bid good Night, to quit their grief, And fend the hearers weeping to their beds. And fome will mourn in afhes, fome coal-black, Enter Northumberland, attended. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd: You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower. And, 1 And, Madam, there is order ta'en for you: K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal More than it is, ere foul fin, gath'ring head, Shall break into corruption; thou shalt think, And he shall think, that thou, which know'ft the way To pluck him headlong from th' ufurped Throne. North. My guilt be on my head, and there's an end! Take leave and part, for you must part forthwith. [To the Queen. And yet not fo, for with a kifs 'twas made. Sent back like Hollowmas, or shortest day. Queen. And muft we be divided ? muft we part? Queen. Banish us both, and fend the King with me. K. Rich. |