Sivut kuvina

For, if the French be lords of this loud day,

Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well : He means to recompense the pains you take,

Who art thou ! By cutting off your heads : Thus hath he sworn, Bast.

Who thou wilt : an if thou please, And I with him, and many more with me,

Thou mayst befriend me so much, as to think, Upon the altar at St. Edmund's-Bary ;

I come one way of the Plantagenets. Even on that altar, where we swore to you

Hub. Unkind remembrance ! thou, and eyeless night, Dear amity and everlasting love.

Have done me shame :-Brave soldier, pardon me, Sal. May this be possible ? may this be true! That any accent, breaking from thy tongue,

Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view, Should scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Retaining but a quantity of life ;

Bast. Come, come ; sans complimeat, what news Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax

abroad! Resolved from his figure 'gainst the fire ?

Hub. Why, here walk 1, in the black brow of night, What in the world should make me now deceive, To find you out. Since I must lose the use of all deceit ?


Brief, then; and what's the news! Why should I then be false ; since it is true,

Hub. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, That I must die here, and live hence by truth? Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible. I say again, if Lewis do win the day,

Bast. Show me the very wound of tbis ill news, He is forsworn, if e'er those eyes of yours

I am po woman, I'll not swoon at it. Behold another day break in the east :

Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'a by a monk : But even this night,---whose black contagious breath I left bim almost speechless, and broke out Already smokes about the barning crest

To acquaint you with this evil; that you might of the old, feeble, and day-wearied sun,

The better arm you to the sudden tine, Even this ill night, your breathing shall expire ; Than if you had at leisure known of this. Paying the fine of rated treachery,

Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to bim! Even with a treacherous tine of all your lives, Hub. A monk, I tell you ; a resolved villain, If Lewis, by your assistance, win the day,

Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king Cominend me to one Hubert, with your king; Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover. The love of bim,--and this respect besides,

Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty ? For that my grandsire was an Englishman,

Hub. Why, know you not ! the lords are all come Awakes my conscience to confess all this.

And brought prince Henry in their company; [back, In lieu whereof, I pray you, bear me hence

At whose request the king hath pardon'd them, From forth the noise and rumour of the field; And they are all about his majesty. Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts Bast. With hold thine indignation, mighty heaven, In peace, and part this body and my soul

And tempt us not to bear above our power!With contemplation and devout desires.

l'll tell thee, Hubert, halt my power this night, Sal. We do believe thee, -And beshrew my soul Passing these flats, are taken by the tide, But I do love the favour and the form

These Lincoln washes have devoured them; of this most fair occasion, by the which

Myself, well-mounted, bardly bave escap'd. We will untread the steps of damned tlight;

Away, before ! conduct me to the kingi And, like a bated and retired flood,

I doubt he will be dead, or ere I come. [Exeunt. Leaving our rankness and irregular course, Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'a,

SCENE VII. The Orchard of Swinstead-abbey. And calmly run on in obedience,

Enter Prince Henry, Salisbury, and Bigot. Even to our ocean, to our great king John. My arın shall give thee help to bear thee heace;

P. Hen. It is too late ; the life of all his blood For I do see the cruel pangs of death

Is tonch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain Right in thine eye.-Away, my friends! New light; Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,

(Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling-house), And happy newness, that intends old right. [Exeunt, leading off Melun. Foretell the ending of mortality.

Enter Peinbroke.
SCENE V. The same. The French Camp. Pem. His highness yet doth speak; and holds belief,
Enter Lewis and his Train.

That, being brought into the open air,
Ler. The sun of heaven, methonght, was loath to set: It would allay the burning quality
But stay'd, and made the western welkin blush,

of that fell poison which assailetli bim. When the English measur'd backward their own

P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard here.In faint retire : o, bravely came we off,

(Exit Digot. [ground,

Doth he still rage!

He is more patient
When with a volley of our needless shot,
After such bloody toil, we bid good night:

Than when you left him ; even now be sung.
And wound our latter'd colours clearly up,

P. Hen. Ó vanity of sickness! fierce extreines,

In their continuance, will not feel themselves,
Last in the field, and almost lords of it!

Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Enter a Messenger.

Leaves them insensible, and his siege is now
Mess. Where is my prince, the dauphin?

Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds Les.

Here :- What news! With many legions of strange fantasies ; Mess. The count Melun is slain; the English lords, which, in their throng and press to the last hold, By his persuasion, are again fallen off :

Confound themselves. "Tis strange, that death should And your supply, which you have wish'd so long, I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, (sing Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin sands. Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death;

Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news !-Beshrew thy very And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings I did not think to be so sad to-night, Cheart! His soul and body to their lasting rest, As this hath made me.--Who was he, that said, Sal, Be of good comfort, prince ; for you are born King John did fly, an hour or two before

To set a form upon that indigest
The stambling night did part oor weary powers!

Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
Lew. Well; keep good quarter, and good care to-

Re-enter Bigot and Attendants, who bring in

King Jobe in a Chair.
The day shall not be up so soon as I, (night;
To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. [Exeunt.

K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room ;

It would not out at windows, nor at doors. SCENE VI. An open Place in the Neighbourhood There is so hot a summer in my bosom, of Świnstead-abbey.

That all my bowels crumble up to dust:

I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
Enter the Bastard and Hubert, meeting.

Upon a parchment; and against this tire
Hub. Who's there! speak, ho! speak quickly, or Do I shrink up.
Bast. A friend :- What art thou ? [I shoot. P. Hen, How fares your majesty ?

of the part of England. K. John. Poison'd---ill fare ; --dead, forsook, cast Bast. Whither dost thou go!

And none of you will bid the winter come,

Coff, Hub. What's that to thee? Why may not I demand To thrust his icy fingers in my maw; Of thine affairs, as well as thod of mine!

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Bast. Hubert, I tbiak.

Through my burn'd boson ; nor entreat the north Hub.

Thou hast a perfect thought: To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, I will, upon all hazards, well believe

And comfort me with cold :-I do not ask you much,


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I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait,

Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; And so ingrateful, you deny me that.

The dauphin rages at our very heels. P. Hen, o, that there were some virtue in my tears, Sal. It seems, you know not then so much as we : That might relieve you.

The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, K. John

'The salt ra them is hot. Who half an hour since came from the dauphin ; Within me is a hell; and there the poison

And brings from him such offers of our peace Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize

As we with honour and respect may take, On unreprievable condemned blood.

With purpose presently to leave this war.

Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees
Enter the Bastard.

Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.
Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion, Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already ;
Apd spleen of speed to see your majesty.

For many carriages he hath despatch'd
K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: To the sea-side, and put bis cause and quarrel
The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd; To the disposing of the cardinal :
And all the shrouds, where with my life should sail, With whom yourself, myself, and other lords,
Are turned to one thread, one little hair :

If you think weet, this afternoon will post My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,

To consummate this business happily. Which holds but till thy news be atter'd ;

Bast. Let it be so :-And you, my noble prince, And then all this thou seest, is but a clod,

With other princes that may best be spar'd, And module of confounded royalty,

Shall wait upon your father's funeral. Bast. The danphin is preparing hitherward; P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd; Where heaven he knows, how we shall answer him: For so he will'd it. For, in a night, the best part of my power,


Thither shall it then. As I upon advantage did remove,

And happily may your sweet self put on Were in the washes, all unwarily,

The lineal state and glory of the land ! Devoured by the unexpected flood. [The King dies. To whom, with all submission, on my knee, Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an I do bequeath my faithful services

And true subjection everlastingly. My liege! my lord !-But now a king, now thos. Sal. And the like tender of our love we make,

P. ten. Even so must I run on, and even so stop. To rest without a spot for evermore. (thanks, What surety of the world, wbat hope, what stay, P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give you When this was now a king, and now is clay! And kuows not how to do it, but with tears.

Bast. Art thou gone so ! I do but stay behind, Bast. 0, let us pay the time but needful woe, To do the office for thee of revenge ;

Since it hath been beforehand with onr griefs.
And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, This England never did (nor never shall)
As it on earth hath been thy servant still.-

Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, But when it first did help to wound itself.
Where be your powers ? Show now your mended Now these her princes are come home again,
And intantly return with me again,

Come the three corners of the world in arins,
To push destruction, and perpetual shame,

And we shall shock them : Nought shall make us rue, Out of the weak door of our fainting land:

If England to itself do rest but true. (Exeunt.




King Richard the Second.


Henry Percy, his Son.
Edmund of Langley, Duke of York, Uncles to the Lord Ross. Lord Willoughby. Lord Fitzwater.
John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, King Bishop of Carlisle. Abbot of Westminster.
Henry, surnamed Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, Lord Marshal; and another Lord.

Son to John of Gaunt; afterwards King Sir Pierce of Exton. Sir Stephen Scroop.
Henry IV.

Captain of a Band of Welshmen.
Duke of Aumerle, Son to the Duke of York.
Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Queen to King Richard.
Duke of Surrey.

Duchess of Gloster. Earl of Salisbury. Earl Berkley.

Duchess of York.

Lady attending on the Queen.
Bagot, Creatures to King Richard.

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two Gardeners, Earl of Northumberland.

Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants. SCENE, dispersedly in England and Wales.


K. Rich. Then call them to our presence ; face to

face, SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace.

And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear Enter King Richard, attended; John of Gaunt, and the accuser, and the accused, freely speak :other Nobles with him.

(Exeunt some Attendants.

High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
K. Rich. OLD John of Gaunt, time honoara in rage deal as the sea, hasty'as fire.

Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,

Re-enter Attendants, with Boliogbroke and

Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son ;
Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, Boling. May many years of happy days befall
Which then our leisure would not let us hear, My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ? Nor. Each day still better other's happiness;
Gaunt. I have, my liege.

Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, Add an immortal title to your crown!
If he appeal the duke on ancient malice;

K. Rich. We thank you both : yet one but flatters Or worthily, as a good subject should,

As well appeareth by the cause you come: [us, On some known ground of treachery in hin? Namely, to appeal each other of high treason.

Gaunt. As near as I could sift him on that argu- Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object On some apparent danger seen in him, [ment, -Against the dake of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray! Ain'd at your highness; no inveterate malice. Boling. First, (heaven be the record of my speech!)

In the devotion of a subject's love,

The unstooping firmness of my upright soul; Tendering the precious safety of my priace, He is our subject, Mowbray, so art thou; And free from other misbegotten hate,

Free speech, and fearless, I to the allow. Come I appellant to this princely presence. --

Nor Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,

Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest! And mark my greeting well; for what I speak, Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais, My body shall make good upon this earth,

Disburs'd I duly to his highness' soldiers : Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.

The other part reserv'd I by consent ; 'Thou art a traitor, and a miscreant;

For that my sovereign liege was in my debt, Too good to be so, and too bad to live;

Upon remainder of a dear account, Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky,

Since last I went to France to fetch his queen : The uglier seen the clouds that in it fly.

Now swallow down that lie.For Gloster's death, Once more, the more to aggravate the note,

I slew him not; but, to my own disgrace,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; Neglected my sworn duty in that case.
And wish (so please my sovereign), ere I move, For you, my noble lord of Lancaster,
What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword may The honoarable father to my toe,

Once did I lay an ambush for your life, Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul: "Tis not the trial of a woman's war,

But, ere I last receiv'd the sacrament, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,

I did confess it; and exactly begg'd 3 Can arbitrale this cause betwixt as iwain :

Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I bad it. itu The blood is liot, that must be cool'd for this. This is my fault: As for the rest appeal'd, *** Yet can I not of such tame patience boast,

It issues from the rancour of a villain, As to be bush'd, and noughi at all to say :

A recreant and most degenerate traitor : First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me Which in myself I boldly will defend ; From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; And interchangeably harl down my gage Which else would post, until it had return a Upon this overweening traitor's foot, These terms of treason doubled down his throat. To prove myself a loyal gentleman Setting aside his high blood's royalty,

Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom : And let him be no Kinsman to my liege,

In baste whereof, most heartily I pray I do defy him, and I spit at him;

Your bighness to assign our trial day. Call hina slanderous coward, and a villain : K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'a by me; Which to maintain, I would allow him odds ; Let's purge this choler without letting blood : And meet him, were I tied to run a-foot

This we prescribe, though no physician ; Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,

Deep malice makes too deep incision : Or any other ground inhabitable

Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed ; Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.

Our doctors say, this is no time to bleed. Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,

Good uncle, let this end where it begon ; By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.

We'll calm the duke of Norfolk, you your son. Boling Pale trembling coward, there I throw my Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age; Disclaiming here the kindred of a king; (gage, Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's gage. And lay aside my high blood's royalty,

K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down bis. Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except;


When, Harry' when I If guilty dread liath left thee so much strength, Obedience bids, I should not bid again. As to take ap mine honour's pawn, then stoopi K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there is By that, and all the rites of knighthood else,

no boot. Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,

Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot : What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame :

Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I swear, The one my duty owes ; bui my fair name
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, (Despite of death, that lives upon my grave),
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

To dark dishonour's use thou shalt

not have. Or chivalrous design of knighủy trial :

I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and balled here; And, when I mount, alive may I not light,

Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear; If I be traitor, or unjustly fight! [charge! The which no balm can cure, but his heart-blood K. Rich. What doth our

cousin lay to Mowbray's Which breath'a this poison. It must be great, that can inherit as

K. Rich.

Rage must be withstood : So much as of a thought of ill in him. (true ;-Give me his gage :-Lions make leopards tame.

Boling. Look, what I speak my life shall prove it Nor. Yea, but not change their spots : take but my That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles,

shame, la name of lendings for your highness' soldiers; And I resign my gage. My dear, dear lord, The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, The purest

treasure mortal times afford, Like a false traitor, and injurious villain.

Is-spotless repatation; that away, Besides I say, and will in battle prove,-

Men are bat gilded loam, or painted clay. Or here, or elsewhere, to the farthest verge

A jewel in a len-times-barr'd-up chest
That ever was survey'd by English eye,-

Is-a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
That all the treasons, for these eighteen years Mine honour is my life; both grow in one ;
Complotted and contrived in this land,

Take honour from me, and my life is done : Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;, Farther I say,--and further will maintain

In that I live, and for that will I die. (begin. Upon this bad life, to make all this good,

K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do you That he did plot the duke of Gloster's death;

Boling. O God, defend my soul from such foul sin ! Suggest bis soon-believing adversaries;

Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? And, consequently, like a traitor eoward,

Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Sluio'd out his innocent soal through streams of blood : Before this out-dar'd dastard 1 Ere my tongue Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,

Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear To me, for justice, and rough chastisoment;

The slavish motive of recanting fear; And by the glorious worth of my descent,

And spit it, bleeding in his high disgrace, This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.

Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face, K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution scars !

[Exit Gaunt. Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou ta this?

K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to command: Nor. O, let my sovereign turn away bis face, Which since we cannot do to make you friends, And bid his ears a little while be deal,

Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, Till I have told this slander of his blood,

At Coventry, upon saint Lambert's day;
How God, and good men, hate so foul a liar, There shall your swords and lances arbitrate

K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears : The swelling difference of your settled hate;
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir Since we cannot atone you, we shall see
(As he is but my father's brother's son),

Justice design the victor's chivalry.
Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,

Marshal, command our officers at arras Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood

Be ready to direct these home-alarms. [Eseunt. Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize

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Flourish of Trumpets. SCENE II. The same, A Room in the Duke of

Enter King Richard, roho

takes his Seat on his Throne ; Gaunt, and several Lancaster's Palace.

Noblemen, who take their places. A Trumpet is Enter Gaunt and Dachess of Gloster.

sounded, and answered by another Trumpet within. Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood Then enter Norfolk in Armour, preceded by a Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,

Herald To stir against the butchers of his life.

K. Rich. Marshal demand of yonder champion But since correction lieth in those hands,

The canse of his arrival bere in arms: Which made the fault that we cannot correct, Ask him his name; and orderly proceed Pat we our quarrel to the will of heaven;

To swear him in the justice of his cause. [art, Who, when he sees the hours ripe on earth,

Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who thou Will rain bot vengeance on offenders' heads. And why thou com'st, thus kviglitly clad in arms :

Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur! Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel Hath love in thy old blood no living fire !

Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oatha ; Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,

Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of NorOr seven fair branches springing from one root : Who hithér come engaged by my oath,

(folk; Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,

(Which, heaven defend, a knight should violaie !)
Some of those branches by the destinies cut: Both to defend my loyalty and truth,
Bat Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloster, To God, my king, and my succeeding issue,
One phial full of Edward's sacred blood,

Against the duke of Hereford that appeals me;
One flourishing branch of his most royal root, And, by the grace of God, and this mine arn,
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt; To prove him, in defending of myself,
Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe,
Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb, And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven !

(He takes his Seat.
That mettle, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man: and thoughthou liv'st,and breath'st, Trumpet sounds. Enter Bolinghroke in Armour,
Yet art thou slain in him thou dost consent

preceded by a Herald. In some large measure to thy father's death,

K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,

Both who he is, and why he cometh bither Who was the model of thy father's life,

Thus plated in habiliments of war; Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair :

And formally according to our law In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,

Depose him in the justice of his cause. Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy lite,

Mar. What is thy name? and wberefore com'stthou Teaching stern murder how to bntcher thee Before king Richard, in his royal lists ? Chither, That which in mean men we entitle-patience,

Against whom comest thoa; and what's thy quarrel ! Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven ! What shall I say I to safeguard thise own life,

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, The best way is--to 'venge my Gloster's death.

Am I ; who ready here do stand in arms, Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's sub-To prove, by beaven's grace, and my body's valour, His deputy anointed in his sight,

(stitute, un lists, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, Hath caus'd his death : the which if wrongfully,

That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous, Let heaven revenge ; for I may never lift

To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me; An angry arm against his minister.

And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven! Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself! Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and de- or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists; fence,

Except the marshal, and such officers Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaant. Appointed to direct these fair desigus. Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold

Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:

And bow my knee before his majesty: [band, 0, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast 1

That yow a long and weary pilgrimage ; Or, if misfortune miss the first career,

Then let us take a ceremonious leave, Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,

And loving farewell, of our several friends. That they may break his foaming courser's back,

Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your highness, And throw the rider head long in the lists,

And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford !

K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometimes brother's wife, Coasin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, (arms. With her companion grief musi end her life.

So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Gaunt, Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry :

Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, As much good stay with thee, as go with me!

Laient we may, but not revenge thee dead. Duch. Yet one word more ;-Grief bonadeth where Boling: 0, let no noble eye profane a tear Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: [it fails, For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear ; I take my leave before I have begun;

As confident, as is the falcon's flight For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.

Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. Commend me to my brother, Edmund York. My loving lord (To Lord Marshall, I take my leave Lo, this is all :-Nay, yet depart not so'; Though this be all, do not so quickly go;

of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle ;I shall remember more. Bid himo, what? Not sick, although I have to do with death ; With all good speed at Plashy visit me.

But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. Alack, and what shall good old York there see,

Lo, as at English feasts, so I regret But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,

The dainties last, to make the end most sweet : Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ?

O thou, the earthly author of my blood,--[ To Gaunt. And what cheer there for welcome, but my groans ?

Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Therefore commend me; let him not come there,

Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up To seek out sorrow that dwells every where :

To reach at victory above my head, Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die ;

Add proof unto my armour with thy prayers;
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,
Exeunt. That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,

And farbish new the name of John of Gaunt,
SCENE III. Gosford Green, near Coventry. Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.
Lists set out, and a Throne. Heralds, &c. attending. Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee pros-

perous !
Enter the Lord Marshal and Aamerle.

Be swift, like lightning, in the execution ;
Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. Fall, like amazing thander, on the casque

Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, or thy adverse pernicioas enemy :
Stays but the summons of the appellant's trampet, Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live.

Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and Boling. Mine innocency, and saint George to thrive! For nothing but his majesty's approach.


(He takes his Seat.

Nor. (Rising] However heaven, or fortune, cast | Is made my gaoler to attend me. my lot,

I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, There lives, or dies, true to king Richard's throne, Too far in years to be a papil now; A loyal, just, and apright gentleman :

What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, Never did captive with a freer heart

Which robs my tongae from breathing native breath? Cast of his chains of bondage, and embrace

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate ; His golden uncontrollid entranchisement,

After our sentence, plaining comes too late. More than my dancing soal doth celebrate

Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's light, This feast of battle with mine adversary

To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. Most mighty liege,--and my companion peers,

[Retiring. Take from iny mouth the wish of happy years : K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. As gentle and as jocund, as to jest,

Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.

Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven K. Rich. Farewell, my lord securely I espy (Our part therein we banish with yourselves), Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.

To keep the oath that we administer :Order the trial, marshal, and begin.

You never shall (so help you truth and heaven 1) [The King and the Lords return to their Seats. Embrace each other's love in banishment; Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Nor never look upon each other's face ; Receive thy lance : and God defend the right! Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile Boling. (Rising.) Strong as a tower in hope, 1 This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate; cryamen.

Nor never by advised purpose meet, Mar. Go bear this lance ( To an Officer] to Thomas To plot, contrive, or complot any ill, duke of Norfolk.

'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. 1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Boling. I swear. Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself,

Nor. And I, to keep all this.
On pain to be found talse and recreant,

Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;
To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, By this time, bad the king permitted us,
A traitor to his God, his king, and him,

One of our souls had wander'd in the air,
And dares bim to set forward to the fight.

Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mobray, duke of As nov our flesh is banish'd from this land :
On pain to be found false and recreant, (Norfolk, Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm :
Both to defend himself, and to approve

Since thou bast far to go, bear not along
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,

The clogging burden of a guilty soul. To God, his sovereign, and to him, disloyal;

Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, Courageously, and with a free desire,

My name be blotted from the book of life, Attending but the signal to begia.

And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence ! Mar. Sound, trumpets ; and set forward, combat-But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know ; ants.

(A Charge sounded. And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. Farewell, my liege :-Now no way can I stray ; K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their Save back to England, all the world's my way. [Exit. spears,

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes And both return back to their chairs again :

I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect Withdraw with us:--and let the trumpets sound,

Hath from the number of his banish'd years While we return these dukes what we decree. Pluck'd four away :--Six frozen winters spent,

(A long Flourish. Return (To Boling.) with welcome home from baDraw near

[To the Combatants.

nishment. And list, what with our council we have done. Boling. How long a time lies in one little word ! For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, With that dear blood which it hath foster'd; End in a word ; Such is the breath of kings. And for our eyes do bate the dire aspect

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that in regard of me, Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighboars'swords; He shortens four years of my son's exile : (And for we think the eagle-winged pride

But little 'vantage shall I reap thereby; Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,

For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend, With rival-hating envy, set you on

Can change their moons, and bring their times about, To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light, Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep ;) Shall be extinct with age, and endless night; Wbich so rous'd up with boisterous untun'd drums, My inch of taper will be burnt and done, With barsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,

And blindfold death not let me see my son. And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,

K. Rich. Why, uncle, thoa bast many years to live. Might from our quiet contines fright fair peace, Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst And make us wade even in our kindred's blood ;

give : Therefore, we banish you our territories :

Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,

And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow :
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our tields, Thon canst help time to furrow me with age,
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,

But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage ;
Bat tread the stranger paths of banishment. [be,Thy word is current with him for my death;

Boling. Your will be done : This must my comfort But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me; K. Rich. Thy sun is banish'd upon good advice,
And those his golden beams, to you here lent,

Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave; Shall point on ine, and gild my banishment.

Why at our justice seein'st thou then to lower K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion Which I with some unwillingness pronounce :

You urg'd me as a judge ; but I had rather, (sour. The fly-slow hours shall not determinate

You would have bid me argue like a father:The dateless limit of thy dear exile;

o, had it been a stranger, not my child, The hopeless word of- never to return

To smooth his faalt I should have been more mild: Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

A partial slander sought I to avoid,
Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
And all nolook'd for from your highness' mouth : Alas, I look'd, when some of you should say,
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim

I was too strict to make mine own away :
As to be cast forth in the common air,

Bat you gave leave to my unwilling tongue, Have I deserved at your highness' hand.

Against my will, to do myself this wrong; The language I have learn'd these forty years, K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :--and, unele, bid hin so: My native English, now I must forego :

Six years we banish him, and he shall go. And now my tongue's use is to me no more,

[Flourish. Exeunt K. Richard and Train. Than an unstringed viol, or a harp

Aum. Cousin, farewell: what presence must not Or, like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

From where you do remain, let paper show. (know, Or, being open, put into his hands

Mar. My lord, no leave take 1, for I will ride, That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

As far as land will let me, by your side. Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, Gaunt, O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy Doubly porteullis'd, with my teeth, and lips;

words, And dull, un feeling, barren ignorance

That thou return'st po greeting to thy friends!

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