Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
With the attainder of his sland'rous lips.-
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out. I say, thou liest,
And will maintain, what thou hast said, is false,
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
Bol. Bagot, forbear, thou shalt not take it up.
Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence, that hath mov'd me so.
Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies,
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair sun that shows me where thou
stand'st,
I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'stit,
That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death.
If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest;
And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see
that day.
Fitz. Now, by soul, I would it were this hour. A. Fitzwater, thou art doom'd to hell for this. Per. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true, In this appeal, as thou art all unjust: And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage, To prove it on thee to the extremest point Of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou dar'st.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off, And never brandish more revengeful steel Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
Lord. I take the earth to the like, forsworn AuAnd spur thee on with full as many lies [merle; As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Aum. Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw I have a thousand spirits in one breast, [at all: To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Sur. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well The very time Aumerle and you did talk. Fitz. My lord, 'tis true: you were in presence And you can witness with me, this is true. [then; Sur. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is Fitz. Surrey, thou liest. [true. Surrey. Dishonourable boy! That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, That it shall render vengeance and revenge, Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie In earth as quiet as thy father's skull.
In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
F. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies, And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say, That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais.
A. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage, That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, If he may be repeal'd to try his honour.
Bol. These differences shall all rest under gage, Till Norfolk be repeal'd, repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restor❜d again
To all his land and signories; when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.-
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
For Jesu Christ; in glorious Christian field
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross,
Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself
To Italy; and there at Venice, gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Car. As sure as I live, my lord.
Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul
to the bosom
Of good old Abraham!-Lords appellants,
Your differences shall all rest under gage,
Till we assign you to your days of trial.
Enter York, attended.
York. Great duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing Adopts thee heir, and his high scepter yields [soul To the possession of thy royal hand: Ascend his throne, descending now from him,And long live Henry, of that name the fourth! Boling. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal Car. Marry, God forbid ![throne. Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. Would God, that any in this noble presence Were enough noble to be upright judge Of noble Richard; then true nobless would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong, What subject can give sentence on his king? And who sits here, that is not Richard's subject? Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them; And shall the figure of God's majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crowned, planted many years, Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath, And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God, That, in a Christian climate, souls refin'd Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'd up by heaven thus boldly for his king, My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king. Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king: And if you crown him, let me prophesy,The blood of English shall manure the ground, And future ages groan for this foul act; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and Infidels, And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind confound; Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny, Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd The field of Golgotha, and dead men's skulls. O, if thou rear this house against this house, It will the woefullest division prove, That ever fell upon this cursed earth: Prevent, resist it, let it not be so, [woe! Lest child, child's children, cry, against youNorth. Well have you argu'd, sir; and, for your Of capital treason we arrest you here: [pains, My lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.- [suit.
May't please you, lords, to grant the commons'
Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common
He may surrender; so we shall proceed [view
Without suspicion.
York.
I will be his conduct. [Exit.
Bol. Lords, you that are here under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer:-
[To Carlisle. ]Little are we beholden to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
Re-enter York, with King Richard, and Officers
bearing the Crown, &c.
My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny:
God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!
God keep all vows unbroke, are made to thee!
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing
griev'd;
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all achiev'd!
Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit
And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit!-
God save king Henry, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine days!—
What more remains?
North.
No more, but that you read
[Offering a paper.
These accusations, and these grievous crimes,
Committed by your person, and your followers,
Against the state and profit of this land:
That, by confessing them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily depos'd.
K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee:-
Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me
To this submission. Yet I well remember
The favours1 of these men: Were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me?-
So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,
Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thou-To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
God save the king!-Will no man say, amen?
Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen.
God save the king! although I be not he:
And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.-
To do what service am I sent for hither?
York. To do that office, of thine own good will.
Which tired majesty did make thee offer,-
The resignation of thy state and crown
To Henry Bolingbroke.
K. Rich. Give me the crown:-Here, cousin,
seize the crown;
Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, thine.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well,
That owes 2 two buckets filling one another;
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unseen, and full of water:
That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
Bol. I thought you had been willing to resign.
K. Rich. My crown, I am; but still my griefs
are mine:
You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my grief; still am I king of those.
Boling. Part of your cares you give me with
your crown.
[cares down.
K. Rich. Your cares set up do not pluck my
My care is loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is-gain of care, by new care won:
The cares I give, I have, though given away;
They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
Bol. Are you contented to resign the crown?
K. R. Ay,no;-no,ay;-For I must nothing be;
Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
Now mark me how I will undo myself:-
I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy scepter from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,3
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duteous oaths:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
1 Countenances. 2 Owns. 3 Oil of consecration.
K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out
My weav'd up follies? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy offences were upon record,
Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop.
There shouldst thou find one heinous article,-
Containing the deposing of a king,
And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,-
Mark'd with a blot, mark'd in the book of
heaven:-
Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me,
Whilst that mywretchedness doth bait myself,-
Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your
hands,
Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
N. My lord, despatch: read o'er these articles.
K. R. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:
And yet salt water blinds them not so much,
But they can see a sort of traitors here.
Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
I find myself a traitor with the rest:
For I have given here my soul's consent,
To undeck the pompous body of a king;
Make glory base; and sovereignty, a slave;
Proud majesty, a subject; state, a peasant.
North. My lord,-
K. R. No lord of thine, thou haught, insulting
Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,-
No, not that name was given me at the font,-
But 'tis usurp'd:-Alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!
O, that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!-
Good king,-great king,-(and yet not greatly
An if my word be sterling yet in England, [good,)
Let it command a mirror hither straight;
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
Boling. Go, some of you, and fetch a looking-
glass.
[Exit an Attendant.
N. Read o'er this paper, while the glass doth
K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me. [come.
B. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.
N. The commons will not then be satisfied.
K. R. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
Re-enter Attendant, with a Glass.
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.-
'No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds?-0, flattering
Like to my followers in prosperity, [glass,
Thou dost beguile me? Was this face the face,
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face,
That, like the sun, did make beholders wink?
Was this the face, that fac'd so many follies,
And was at last outfac'd by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face;
[Dasheth the Glass against the ground. For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.-Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face Bol. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy' The shadow of your face.
K. Rich. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow? Ha! let's see: 'Tis very true, my grief lies all within; And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king. For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon And then be gone, and trouble you no more. Shall I obtain it?
K. Rich. Fair cousin? Why, I am greater than a king:
For, when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg.
Boling. Yet ask.
K. Rich. And shall I have?
Boling. You shall.
K. Rich. Then give me leave to go.
Boling. Whither?
[sights. K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your Bol. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. K. R.O,good! Convey?-Conveyers1 are you all, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. [Exeunt King Richard, some Lords, and
Bol. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. [Exeunt all but the Abbot, Bishop of Carlisle, and Aumerle. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe's to come; the childrenyet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, You shall not only take the sacrament To bury mine intents, but to effect Whatever I shall happen to devise:I see your brows are full of discontent, 1 Jugglers.
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears;
Come home with me to supper; I will lay
A plot, shall show us all a merry day. [Exeunt.
A STREET LEADING TO THE TOWER. Enter Queen, and Ladies.
Q. This way the king will come; this is the way To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower,1 To whose flint bosom my condemned lord Is doom'd a prisoner, by proud Bolingbroke: Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth Have any resting for her true king's queen. Enter King Richard, and Guards. But soft, but see, or rather do not see, My fair rose wither: Yet look up; behold; And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.-That you in pity may dissolve to dew, Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand; Thou map of honour; thou King Richard's tomb, And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn, Whyshould hard-favour'dgrief be lodg'd in thee, When triumph is become an ale-house guest?
K.R.Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
To think our former state a happy dream;
To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul,
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim necessity; and he and I
Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
And cloister thee in some religious house:
Which our profane hours here have stricken
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
[mind
Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bolingbroke
Q. What, is my Richard both in shape and
Depos'dthine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,
And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage,
To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly? kiss the rod,
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion, and a king of beasts? [beasts,
I had been still a happy king of men. [France:
K. R. A king of beasts, indeed? if aught but
Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for
As from my death-bed, my last living leave.
Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire,
And, ere thou bid good night, to quits their grief,
Of woeful ages, long ago betid2
And send the hearers weeping to their beds
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
For why, the senseless brands will sympathise
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
For the deposing of a rightful king.
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
Enter Northumberland, attended. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd:
1 Tower of London. 2 Happened. 3 Requita.
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