Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg This swears he, as he is a prince, is just; K. Rich. Northumberland, say,—thus the king returns; His noble cousin is right welcome hither; [To AUMERLE, Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words, Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords. K. Rich. O God! O God! that e'er this tongue of mine, That laid the sentence of dread banishment On yon proud man, should take it off again Or not remember what I must be now! Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat, With words of sooth!] Sooth is sweet as well as true. In this place sooth means sweetness or softness, a signification yet retained in the verb to sooth. JOHNSON. 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 submit? The king shall do it. Must he be depos'd? We'll make foul weather with despised tears; Or shall we play the wantons with our woes, 6 on their sovereign's head:] Shakspeare is very apt to deviate from the pathetick to the ridiculous. Had the speech of Richard ended at this line, it had exhibited the natural language of submissive misery, conforming its intention to the present fortune, and calmly ending its purposes in death. JOHNSON. Would not this ill do well?-Well, well, I see 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 glistering Phaeton, 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 grace. In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down king! For night-owls shriek, where mounting larks should sing. [Exeunt, from above. Sorrow and grief of heart Boling. What says his majesty? North. 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: Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, [Touching his own head.] 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 most redoubted lord, As my true service shall deserve your love. K. Rich. Well you deserve:-They well deserve to have, That know the strong'st and surest way to get.— 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. "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. 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, 8 * Against a change: Woe is forerun with woe.] The poet, according to the common doctrine of prognostication, supposes dejection to forerun calamity, and a kingdom to be filled with rumours of sorrow when any great disaster is impending. The sense is, that public evils are always presignified by publick pensiveness, and plaintive conversation. JOHNSON. |