Shewing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Have here deliver'd me to my four cross,
And water cannot wash away your fin.

North. My lord, difpatch; read o'er thefe articles.
K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot fee:
And yet falt-water blinds them not fo 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 foul's confent,
To undeck the pompous body of a king;
Make glory base; and fovereignty a slave;
Proud majefty, a fubject; ftate, a peasant.
North. My lord,-

K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught infulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,—

No, not that name was given me at the font,
But 'tis ufurp'd :-Alack the heavy day,
That I have worn fo many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!
O, that I were a mockery king of fnow,
Standing before the fun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!-

Good king,-great king,-(and yet not greatly good,)
An if my word be fterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight:
That it may fhew me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.

Boling. Go fome of you, and fetch a looking-glass.
[Exit an Attendant.
North. Read o'er this paper, while the glafs doth come.
K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'ft me ere I come to hell.
Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.

fort-] A pack, a company. WARBURTON.

See Vol. II. p. 490. n. 5. MALONE.

1-baught,] i. e. baughty. STEEVENS.

2 No, not that name was given me at the font,] How that name which was given him at the font could be ufurped, I do not understand. Perhaps Shakspeare meant to fhew that imagination, dwelling long on its own misfortunes, reprefents them as greater than they really are.

ANONYMOUS.
North.

North. The commons will not then be fatisfy'd.
K. Rich. They fhall be fatisfy'd: I'll read enough,
When I do fee the very book indeed

Where all my fins 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 forrow ftruck
So many blows upon this face of mine,

And made no deeper wounds?-O flattering glass,
Like to my followers in profperity,

Thou doft beguile me!-Was this face the face
every day under his houfhold roof

That

Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face,
That, like the fun, did make beholders wink?
Was this the face, that fac'd fo many follies,
And was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke?
Abrittle glory fhineth in this face:

As brittle as the glory is the face;

[Dafhes the glafs against the ground. For there it is, crack'd in a hundred fhivers.Mark, filent king, the moral of this sport,How foon my forrow hath deftroy'd my face. Boling. The fhadow of your forrow hath destroy'd The fhadow of your face.

K. Rich. Say that again.

The fhadow of my forrow? Ha! let's fee:
Tis very true, my grief lies all within;

And thefe external manners of lament

Are merely fhadows to the unfeen grief,

That fwells with filence in the tortur'd foul 3;

There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv'ft

Me caufe to wail, but teacheft me the way

Did keep ten thousand men ?] Shakspeare is here not quite accurate. Our old chronicles only fay "that to his household came every day, to meate, ten thoufand men.'

3

MALONE.

my grief lies all within;

And thefe external manners of lament &c] So in Hamlet:

"But I have that within which paffeth show;

"Thefe but the trappings and the fuits of woe." MALONE.

G 2

How

How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
And then be gone, and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?

Boling. Name it, fair cousin.

K. Rich. Fair coufin? Why, I am greater than a king: For, when I was a king, my flatterers

Were then but fubjects; being now a fubject,

I have a king here to my flatterer.

Being fo great, I have no need to beg.

Boling. Yet ask.

K. Rich. And fhall I have?
Boling. You fhall.

K. Rich. Then give me leave to go.
Boling. Whither?

K. Rich. Whither you will, fo I were from your fights.
Boling. Go fome of you, convey him to the Tower.
K. Rich. O good! Convey?-Conveyers are you all *,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

[Exeunt K. RICH. fome Lords, and a guard. Boling. On Wednesday next, we folemnly fet down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.

[Exeunt all but the Abbot, bishop of Carlisle, and Auм. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn

Shall feel this day as fharp to them as thorn ❝.

Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot

To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?

Abbot. Before I freely fpeak my mind herein, You shall not only take the facrament

To bury 7 mine intents, but also to effect

4

- Conveyers are you all,] To convey is a term often used in an ill fenfe, and fo Richard underftands it here. Piftol fays of ftealing, "convey the wife it call"; and to convey is the word for fleight of hand, which feems to be alluded to here. Ye are all, fays the depofed prince, jugglers, who rife with this nimble dexterity by the fall of a good king. JOHNS. 5 a true king's fall.] This is the last of the additional lines which were firft printed in the quarto, 1608. MALONE.

6-as

sharp to them as thorn. This pathetick denunciation fhews that Shakspeare intended to imprefs his auditors with diflike of the depofal of Richard JOHNSON.

7 To bury-] To conceal, to keep fecret. JOHNSON.

Whatever

Whatever I fhall happen to devife :

I fee, your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of forrow, and your eyes of tears;
Come home with me to fupper; I will lay
A plot, fhall fhew us all a merry day.

ACT V. SCENE I.

London. Aftreet leading to the Tower.

Enter QUEEN, and Ladies.

[Exeunt.

Queen. This way the king will come; this is the way
To Julius Cæfar's ill-erected tower',

To whofe flint bofom my condemned lord
Is doom'd a prifoner by proud Bolingbroke:
Here let us reft, if this rebellious earth

Have any refting for her true king's queen.

Enter King RICHARD, and guards.

But foft, but fee, or rather do not fee,
My fair rose wither: Yet look up; behold;
That you in pity may diffolve to dew,

And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.

Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand 3;

1 To Julius Cæfar's &c.] The tower of London is traditionally faid to have been the work of Julius Cæfar. JOHNSON.

2 Here let us reft, if &c.] So Milton:

"Here reft, if any reft can barbour bere." JOHNSON.

3 Ab, thou, the model where old Troy did ftand;] The queen uses com. parative terms abfolutely. Instead of saying, Thou who appeareft as the ground on which the magnificence of Troy was once erected, the says, Ab, thou, the model, &c.

Thou map of bonour;

Thou picture of greatnefs. JOHNSON.

Model, it has already been observed, is used by our author, for a thing made after a pattern. He is, I believe, fingular in this ufe of the word. Thou ruined majefty, fays the queen, that refembleft the defolated wafte where Troy once ftood. So before:

"Who was the model of thy father's life." See p. 58, n. 4.-In our author's Rape of Lucrece, fleep is called "the map of death." MALONE.

G 3

Thou

Thou map of honour; thou king Richard's tomb,
And not king Richard; thou most beauteous inn 4,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee,
When triumph is become an ale-house guest?

K. Rich. Join not with griefs, fair woman, do not so,
To make my end too fudden: learn, good foul,
To think our former state a happy dream;

From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shews us but this: I am fworn brother, sweet,
To grim neceffity; and he and I

Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
And cloister thee in fome religious house:

Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
Which our profane hours here have ftricken down.

Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd, and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke Depos'd thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart ? The lion, dying, thrufteth 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 bafe humility,

Which art a lion, and a king of beafts?

K. Rich. A king of beafts, indeed; if aught but beafts, I had been still a happy king of men.

Good fometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:
Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st,
As from my death bed, my last living leave.
In winter's tedious nights, fit by the fire

With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales

4-beauteous inn,] Inn does not here fignify a houfe of publick entertainment; but, as in Spenfer, a habitation in general. STEEVENS. I cannot agree with Mr. Steevens. It means a houfe of entertainment, and is opposed to ale-boufe in the following line. MASON.

Join not with grief,] Do not thou unite with grief against me; do not, by thy additional forrows, enable grief to ftrike me down at once. My own part of forrow I can bear, but thy affliction will immediately deftroy me. JOHNSON.

6 I am fworn brother, faveet,

To grim neceffity;] I have reconciled myfelf to neceffity, I am in a ftate of amity with the constraint which I have fuftained. JOHNSON.

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