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Where is the king?

Aum.
Boling.
What means
Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly?
Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech your
majesty,

To have some conference with your grace alone.
Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here
alone.- [Exeunt Percy and Lords.

What is the matter with our cousin now?
Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
(Kneels.)

My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,
Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak.
Boling. Intended, or committed was this fault?
If but the first, how heinous ere it be,
To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.

[key,

Aum. Then give me leave, that I may turn the That no man enter till my tale be done.

And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
As thriftless sons their scraping father's gold.
Mine honour lives, when his dishonour dies,
Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies:
Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath,
The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
Duch. (Within.) What ho, my liege! for God's
sake let me in.

Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this
eager cry?

Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; 'tis, I.
Speak with me, pity me, open the door;
A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.

Boling. Our scene is alter'd, from a serious
thing,

And now chang'd to The Beggar and the King.-
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in;
I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin.
York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may.
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound.
This, let alone, with all the rest confound.

Enter Duchess.

Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted man; Love, loving not itself, none other can.

York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make
here?

Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
Duch. Sweet York, be patient; Hear me, gentle
liege.
(Kneels.)
Boling. Rise up, good aunt.
Duch.

Not yet, I thee beseech:
For ever will I kneel upon my knees,
And never see day, that the happy sees,
Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my
knee.
(Kneels.
York. Against them both, my true joints bended
be.
(Kneels.)

Boling. Have thy desire. (Aumerle locks the door.)
York. (Within.) My liege, beware; look to thy-His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest ;

self;

Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. (Drawing.)
Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;

Thou hast no cause to fear.

York. (Within.) Open the door, secure, fool-
hardy king:

Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?
Open the door or I will break it open.
(Bolingbroke opens the door.)
Enter YORK.

[know

Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak;
Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.
York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt
The treason that my haste forbids me show.
Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise
past:

I do repent me; read not my name there,
My heart is not confederate with my hand.

Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face.
His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast
He prays but faintly, and would be denied;

| We pray with heart and soul, and all beside:
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;

Our knees shall kneel, till to the ground they grow;
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.
An 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"

York. "Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,

down.

I tore J from the traitor's bosom, king;

Fear, and not love, begets his penitence;
Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove

A serpent, that will sting thee to the heart.
Boling. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy!
O loyal father of a treacherous son!

Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain,
From whence this stream, through muddy passages,
Hath held his current, and defil'd himself!
Thy overflow of good converts to bad;
And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son.

York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;

That sett'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.
Boling. 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.

I pardon him.
Duch.
A god on earth thou art.
Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,
the abbot,

When time is broke, and no proportion Lept! With all my heart So is it in the music of men's lives. And here have I the daintiness of ear, To check time broke in a disorder'd string; and But, for the concord of my state and time, Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. 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,

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
[Exeunt.

thee new.

SCENE IV.

Enter EXTON, and a Servant. 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?
Serv.

Those were his very words.

Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake it twice,

And urg'd it twice together; did he pot?
Serv. He did.

[me;
Exton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd on
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 com

pare

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 same 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
Against 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 flinty 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 I, 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.-Music do I hear? (Music.)
Ha, ba! keep time:-How sour sweet music is,

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.
This music mads me, let it sound no more;
In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.
For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits,
For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Yet blessing on his heart, that gives it me!
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
Enter Groom.
Groom. Hail! royal prince!
K. Rich.
Tharks, noble peer,
The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
Where no man ever comes, but that sad dog
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.
O, how it yearn'd my heart, when I beheld
In London streets that coronation day,
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!
That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid;
That horse, that I so carefully have dress'd!
K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary! Tell me, gentle
How went he under him?
[friend,
Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground.
K. Rich. So proud, that Bolingbroke was ou his

back!

That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,
(Since pride must have a fall,) and break the neck
Of that proud man, that did usurp his back?
Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse,
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spur-gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing Bolingbroke.
Enter Keeper with a dish.
Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay
(To the Groom

K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wer! away.

Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.

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Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to?
K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to da
Keep. My lord, I dare not; sir Pierce of Exton,

who

Lately came from the king, commands the contrary, K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and

thee! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. (Beats the Keeper.)

Keep. Help, help, help!

Enter EXTON and Servants, armed.

K. Rich. How now? what means death in this rule

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Lords and Attendants.

Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear
Is that the rebels have consum'd with fire
Our town of Cicester in Glostershire;

But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear not.
Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.

Welcome, my lord: What is the news?

North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.

The next news is,-I have to London sent
The heads of Salisbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear
At large discoursed in this paper here.
(Presenting a paper.)
Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy
pains;

And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
Enter FITZWATER.

Fitz. My Lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
The heads of Brocas, and sir Bennet Seely,
Two of the dangerous consorted traitors,
That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.

Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwalter, shall not be forgot; Right uoble is thy merit, well I wot.

Enter PERCY, with the Bishop of CARLISLE Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of Westminster,

With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy,
Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
But here is Carlisle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom, and sentence of his pride.

Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom :

Choose out some secret place, some reverend room
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.
Enter EXTON, with attendants bearing a coffin.
Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried fear; herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Bourdeaux, by me hither brought.
Boling. Extou, I thank thee not; for thou hast
wrought

A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand,
Upon my head, and all this famous land.
Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I
this deed.

Boling. They love not poison, that do poison need,
Nor do I thee; though I did wish him dead,
I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word, nor princely favour:
With Cain go wander through the shade of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.-
Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for what I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent;
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand ;-
March sadly after; grace my mournings here,
In weeping after this untimely bier.

[Exeunt.

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P 439. Persons represented. Duke of Aumerle,] | P. 441, c. 1, 7. 22. A caitiff-] Caitiff originally Aumerle, or Aumale, is the French for what we now call Albemarle, which is a town in Normandy. The old historians generally use the French title. STEEVENS.

Earl Berkley.] It ought to be Lord Berkley. There was no Earl Berkley till some ages after. STEEVENS.

Lord Ross.] Now spelt Roos, one of the duke of Rutland's titles. STEEVENS.

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signified a prisoner; next a slave, from the condition of prisoners; then a scoundrel, from the qualities of a slave.

SCENE III.

Id. 1. 48. Lord Marshal.] Shakspeare has
here committed a slight mistake. The office
of lord marshal was executed on this occasion
by Thomas Holland, duke of Surrey. Our
author has inadvertently introduced that no-
bleman as a distinct person from the marshal,
in the present drama. Mowbray duke of Nor-
folk was the earl marshal of England; but
being himself one of the combatants, the duke
of Surrey officiated as earl marshal for the
day.
Id. 1. 48. Aumerle.] Edward duke of Aumerle, so
created by his cousin german, King Richard II.
in 1397. He was the eldest son of Edward
of Langley duke of Norfolk, fifth son of Ed-
ward the Third, and was killed in 1415, at
the battle of Agincourt. He officiated at
the lists of Coventry, as high constable of
England.

Id. 1. 72. "As so," i. e. as you hope that heaven
and your valour may defend you. MALONE.
Id. c. 2, l. 62. waxen coat ] The object of
Bolingbroke's request is, that the temper of
his lance's point might as much exceed the
mail of his adversary, as the iron of that mail
was harder than wax.

Id. l. 69. Fall like amazing thunder on the
casque-] To amaze, in ancient language,
signifies to stun, to confound.

P. 442, c. 1, l. 6. As gentle and as jocund, as to
jest.] To jest sometimes signifies in old lan-
guage to play a part in a mask.
1.34.-hath thrown his warder-] A warder
appears to have been a kind of truncheon
carried by the person who presided at these
single combats.

Id.

Id. 1. 48. And for we think the eagle-winged
pride, &c.] These five verses are omitted in
some editions, and restored from the first of
1598. POPE.

Id. l. 71. "The sly-slow hours"-MALONE.
Id. c. 2, l. 15.-compassionate;] for plaintive.
Id. 1. 23. (Our part, &c.] It is a question much
debated amongst the writers of the law of na-
tions, whether a banished man may be still
tied in his allegiance to the state which sent
him into exile. Tully and lord chancellor Cla-
rendon declare for the affirmative: Hobbes

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