Cousin, 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 must, what force will have us do.-
Set on towards London :-Cousin, is it so ?
Boling. Yea, my good lord.

K. Rich.

Then I must not say, no.

[Flourish. Exeunt.

SCENE IV.

Langley. The Duke of York's Garden.

Enter the Queen, and two Ladies.

Queen. What sport shall we devise here in this

garden,

To drive away the heavy thought of care?

1 Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls.
Queen.
The world is full of rubs, and that fortune
Runs 'gainst the bias.8

1 Lady.

"Twill make me think,

my

Madam, we will dance.

Queen. My legs can keep no measure in delight, When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief: Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport. 1 Lady. Madam, we'll tell t les.

Queen.

1 Lady. Of either, madam.

Queen.

Of sorrow, or of joy?

Of neither, girl:

For if of joy, being altogether wanting,

8 A weight fixed on one side of the bowl which turns from the straight line.

It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
Or if of grief, being altogether had,

It adds more sorrow to my want of joy :
For what I have, I need not to repeat;
And what I want, it boots not to complain.
1 Lady. Madam, I'll sing.

Queen.

'Tis well, that thou hast cause; But thou should'st please me better, would'st thou

weep.

1 Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you

good.

Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do me

good,

And never borrow any tear of thee.

But stay, here come the gardeners :

Let's step into the shadow of these trees.—

Enter a Gardener, and Two Servants.

My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
They'll talk of state; for every one doth so
Against a change: Woe is forerun with woe.

[Queen and Ladies retire.

Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight :
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.-
Go thou, and like an executioner,

Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth :
All must be even in our government.
You thus employ'd, I will go root away

9 Profits.

The noisome weeds, that without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.

compass of

a pale,'

1 Serv. Why should we, in the
Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
Showing, as in a model, our firm estate?
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up,
Her fruit-trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?

Gard.

Hold thy peace :

He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring,
Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf:

:

The weeds, that his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
That seem'd in eating him to hold him up,
Are pluck'd up, root and all, by Bolingbroke;
I mean, the earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
1 Serv. What, are they dead?

Gard.

They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seiz'd the wasteful king.-Oh! What pity is it, That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land,

As we this garden! We at time of year
Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees;
Lest, being over-proud with sap and blood,
With too much riches it confound itself:
Had he done so to great and growing men,
They might have liv'd to bear, and he to taste
Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughs may live :
Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.

1 Inclosure.

2 Figures planted in box."

1 Serv. What, think you then, the king shall be

depos'd?

Gard. Depress'd he is already; and depos'd, 'Tis doubt,' he will be: Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good duke of York's,

That tell black tidings.

Queen.

O, I am press'd to death,

Through want of speaking!-Thou, old Adam's likeness, [Coming from her concealment.

Set to dress this garden, how dares

Thy harsh-rude tongue sound this unpleasing news? What Eve, what serpent hath suggested thee

To make a second fall of cursed man?

Why dost thou say, king Richard is depos'd?
Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth,
Divine his downfal? Say, where, when, and how,
Cam'st thou by these ill tidings? speak, thou wretch.
Gard. Pardon me, madam: little joy have I,
To breathe this news; yet, what I say, is true.
King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd:

In

your lord's scale is nothing but himself,

And some few vanities that make him light;
But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
Besides himself, are all the English peers,

And with that odds he weighs king Richard down.
Post
you to London, and you'll find it so;

I speak no more than every one doth know.

Queen. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, Doth not thy embassage belong to me,

And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st

3 No doubt.

To serve me last, that I may longest keep
Thy sorrow in my breast.—Come, ladies, go,
To meet at London London's king in woe.—
What, was I born to this! that my sad look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?-
Gardener, for telling me this news of woe,

I would, the plants thou graft'st, may never grow.
[Exeunt Queen and Ladies.
Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be no

worse,

I would, my skill were subject to thy curse.-
Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place,
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace:
Rue, even for ruth,+ here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

ACT IV.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. London. Westminster Hall.

The Lords spiritual on the right side of the Throne; the Lords temporal on the left; the Commons below. Enter BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, SURREY, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord, Bishop of Carlisle, Abbot of Westminster, and Attendants. Officers behind, with Bagot.

Boling. Call forth Bagot :-

Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;

What thou dost know of noble Gloster's death; Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd

4 Pity.