Imatges de pÓgina

Currents that spring from one most gracious head;
And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt;
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
His coming hither hath no further scope,
Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg
Enfranchisement immediate on his knees :
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
To faithful service of your majesty.
This swears he, as he is a prince, is just ;
And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
K. Rich. Northumberland, say, - thus the king

returns ;
His noble cousin is right welcome hither ;
And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction :
With all the gracious utterance thou hast,
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. -
We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not,

To look so poorly, and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die ?
Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle

words, Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful

swords. K. Rich. Merciful Heaven that e'er this tongue

of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment
On yon proud man, should take it off again
With words of sooth'! O, that I were as great
As is my grief, or lesser than


name! Or that I could forget what I have been ! Or not remember what I must be now!

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9. Softness.

Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to

beat, Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. Aum. Northumberland comes back from Boling

K. Rich. What must the king do now? Must he

submit ?
The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd ?
The king shall be contented: Must he lose
The name of king? o'God's name, let it go:
I'll give my jewels, for a set of beads;
My gorgeous palace, for a hermitage;
My gay apparel, for an alms-man's gown;
My figur'd goblets, for a dish of wood;
My scepter, for a palmer's walking-staff;
My subjects, for a pair of carved saints;
And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave:
Or I'll be buried in the king's highway,

way of common trade, where subjects' feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign's head:
For on my heart they tread, now whilst I live ;
And, buried once, why not upon my

Aumerle, thou weep'st; My tender-hearted cou-
We'll make foul weather with despised tears ;
Our sighs, and they, shall lodge the summer corn,
And make a dearth in this revolting land.
Or shall we play the wantons with our woes,
And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
As thus : To drop them still upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Within the earth ; and, therein laid, There lies
Two kinsmen, digg'd their graves with weeping eyes ?
Would not this ill do well? - Well, well, I see
I talk but idly, and you mock at me. -
Most mighty prince, my lord Northumberland,
What says king Bolingbroke? will his majesty
Give Richard leave to live till Richard die ?

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sin !

You make a leg', and Bolingbroke says - ay. North. My lord, in the base · court he doth at

tend, To speak with you; may't please you to come

down? K. Rich. Down, down, I come; like glistering

Wanting the manage of unruly jades.

[NORTH. retires to Boling. In the base court? Base court, where kings grow

base, To come at traitors' calls, and do them In the base court ? Come down ? Down, court!

down king! For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks should sing.

[Exeunt, from above. Boling. What says his majesty ? North.

Sorrow and grief of heart Makes him speak fondly, like a frantick man: Yet he is come.


Enter King RICHARD, and his Attendants, below.

Boling. Stand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.
My gracious lord, -

[Kneeling K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely

knee, To make the base earth proud with kissing it: Me rather had, my heart might feel your love, Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy. Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, [Touching his own head.] al

though 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


1 A bow.

2 Lower.

Boling. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, As my true service shall deserve


love. K. Rich. Well you deserve: They well deserve

to have,
That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
Uncle, give me your hand: nay, dry your eyes ;
Tears show their love, but want their remedies.

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,


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 awảy the heavy thought of care ?

1 Lady. Madam, we'll play at bowls. Queen.

Twill make me think, The world is full of rubs, and that my fortune Runs 'gainst the bias. 1 Lady.

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 tales. Queen.

Of sorrow, or of joy? 1 Lady. Of either, madam. Queen.

Of neither, girl: For if of joy, being altogether wanting,

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.

'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

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
The noisome weeds, that without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
1 Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a

Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
Showing, as in a model, our firm estate?
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,

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