Imatges de pÓgina
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His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ;
Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity.
Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
That mercy, which true prayers ought to have.

Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
Duch.

Nay, do not say-stand up;
But, pardon, first; and afterwards, stand up.
And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
Pardon-should be the first word of thy speech.
I never long'd to hear a word till now;
Say-pardon, king ; let pity teach thee how:
The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like, pardon, for kings' mouths so meet.
York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardonnez

moy.
Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy ?
Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
That set'st the word itself against the word !-
Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there:
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear ;
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee pardon to rehearse.

Buling. Good aunt, stand up,
Duch.

I do not sue to stand, Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.

Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee ! Yet am I sick for fear : speak it again;

Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon strong.
Boling.

With all

my

heart I pardon him.

Duch. A god on earth thou art.
Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law 5,-and

the abbot,
With all the rest of that consorted crew,-
Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels.-
Good uncle, help to order several powers
To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are :
They shall not live within this world, I swear,
But I will have them, if I once know where.
Uncle, farewell,- and cousin too, adieu :
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
Duch. Come, my old son ;-I pray God make thee

[Ereunt.

new.

SCENE IV.

Enter Exton, and a Serdant.
Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words

he spake?
Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?
Was it not so ?
Sero.

Those were his very words.
Exton. Have I no friend ? quoth he: he spake it

twice, And urg'd it twice together ; did he not?

Sero. He did.

Exton. And, speaking it, he wistly look'd on me; As who should say, I would, thou wert the man That would divorce this terror from my heart; Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go; I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Pomfret. The Dungeon of the Castle.

Enter King RICHARD. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may compare This prison, where I live, unto the world : And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it ;--Yet I'll hammer it out. My brain I'll prove the female to my soul ; My soul, the father : and these two beget A generation of still-breeding thoughts, And these sa me thoughts people this little world; In humours, like the people of this world, For no thought is contented. The better sort,As thoughts of things divine, -- are intermix'd With scruples, and do set the word itself Again the word : As thus, Come,-little ones ; and then again,It is as hard to come, as for a camel To thread the postern of a needle's eye. Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot

Unlikely wonders : how these vain weak nails
May tear a passage through the finty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,
That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars,
Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,-
That many have, and others must sit there :
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of such as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play 1, in one person, many people,
And none contented : Sometimes am I king;
Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: Then crushing penury
Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again : and, by-and-by,
Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing :- But, whate'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,
With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Musick do I hear? [Musick.
Ha, ha ! keep time :-How sour sweet musick is,
When time is broke, and no proportion kept !
So is it in the musick of men's lives.
And here have I the daintiness of ear,
To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
But, for the concord of my state and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.

D D

VOL. VI.

I wasted time, and now doth time waste me.
For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, they jar
Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Now, sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and groans,
Show minutes, times, and hours :--but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o'the clock 5.
This musick mads me, let it sound no more ;
For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it seems, it will make wise men mad.
Yet, blessing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal prince !
K. Rich,

Thanks, noble peer;
The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
What art thou ? and how comest thou hither,
Where no man never comes, but that sad dog ss
That brings me food, to make misfortune live?

Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York, With much ado, at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometimes master's face.

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