Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in thee, When triumph is become an alehouse guest?

K. RICH. Join not with grief, fair woman, do

not so,

To make my end too sudden learn, good soul,
To think our former state a happy dream;
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 :
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
Which our profane hours here have stricken down.
QUEEN. What! is my Richard both in shape and
mind
Hath Bolingbroke

Transform'd and weakened?
Depos'd thine 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?

K. RICH. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught
but beasts,

I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometime 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 sit by the fire
With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages, long ago betid:

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why, the senseless brands will sympathise
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, attended.

NORTH. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd;

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.(1)
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.(2)

(*) First folio, fall.

Sworn brother,-] Sworn brother came originally from the fratres jurati, military adventurers who bound themselves by mutual obligation to share each others' fortunes. When William the Conqueror invaded England, Robert de Oily and Roger de Ivery were fratres jurati, and the former gave one of the honours he received to his sworn brother, Roger.

K. RICH. Northumberland, thou ladder, where-
withal

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm, and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all:

He shall think, that thou, which knowest the way
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear;
That fear to hate; and hate turns one, or both,
To worthy danger, and deserved death.

NORTH. My guilt be on my head, and there an
end.

Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith. K. RICH. Doubly divore'd? - Bad men, ye violate

A twofold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me;
And then betwixt me and my married wife.
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
And yet not so, for with a kiss 't was made.
Part us, Northumberland; I, towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
My wife to France; from whence, set forth in
pomp,

She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas, or short'st of day.

QUEEN. And must we be divided? must we
part?

K. RICH. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.

QUEEN. Banish us both, and send the king with

me.

NORTH. That were some love, but little policy. QUEEN. Then whither he goes, thither let me go. K. RICH. So two, together weeping, make one

woe.

Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off, than--near be, ne'er the near. b
Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
QUEEN. So longest way shall have the longest

moans.

K. RICH. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,

And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief.
One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;

(*) First folio, queen.

b Near be, ne'er the near.] That is, be near, but never the nigher. A proverbial saying implying, to come near the object, yet never achieve it. Thus, in Ben Jonson's Epilogue to "The Tale of a Tub: "

"Wherein the poet's fortune is, I fear,
Still to be early up but ne'er the near."

Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. YORK. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,

Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,
Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
With slow but stately pace, kept on his course,
While all tongues cried-God save thee, Boling-
broke!

You would have thought the very windows spake,
So many greedy looks of young and old,
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage; and that all the walls,
With painted imagery had said at once,—
Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus,-I thank you, countrymen:
And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

DUCH. Alack,* poor Richard! where rodet he the whilst ?

YORK. As in a theatre," the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious :Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes

(*) First folio, Alas.

:

(†) First folio, rides.

a As in a theatre,-] "The painting of this description is so lively, and the words so moving, that I have scarce read anything comparable to it in any other language."-DRYDEN.

b Aumerle that was;] We learn from Holinshed that the dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter, were deprived of their

Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him ;

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home,
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His face still combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience,
That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
And barbarism itself have pitied him.

But heaven hath a hand in these events;

To whose high will we bound our calm contents.(3)
To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
DUCH. Here comes my son Aumerle.
YORK.
Aumerle that was;

But that is lost, for being Richard's friend,
And, madam, you must call him Rutland now:
I am in parliament pledge for his truth,
And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

Enter AUMERLE.

DUCH. Welcome, my son.

now,

b

Who are the violets

That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? AUм. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care

not;

God knows, I had as lief be none, as one. YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,

Lest
you be cropt before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? hold those justs and
triumphs?

AUM. For aught I know, my lord, they do.
YORK. You will be there, I know.
AUM. If God prevent it not; I purpose so.
YORK. What seal is that, that hangs without thy
bosom ? c

Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
AUм. My lord, 't is nothing.

YORK.

No matter then who sees it:

I will be satisfied,-let me see the writing.
AUM. I do beseech your grace to pardon me;
It is a matter of small consequence,

Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
YORK. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to
I fear, I fear,-
DUCH.

see.

What should you fear? 'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into

dukedoms by an act of Henry's first parliament, but were allowed to retain the earldoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon.

What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom?] The seals on deeds were in old time not impressed on the documents themselves, but appended to them by labels or slips of parchment. See note (c), p. 200.

Re-enter Servant, with boots.
YORK. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king.
DUCH. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou
art amaz'd:

Hence, villain! never more come in my sight.-
[To the Servant.
YORK. Give me my boots, I say.
DUCH. Why, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
And rob me of a happy mother's name?
Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?
YORK. Thou fond mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?

A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their hands,
To kill the king at Oxford.

DUCH.

He shall be none;

We'll keep him here: then what is that to him?

YORK. Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son,

I would appeach him.

DUCH.

Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect That I have been disloyal to thy bed,

And that he is a bastard, not thy son.

Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind:
He is as like thee as a man may be,
Not like to me, nor any of my kin,
And yet I love him.

YORK. Make way, unruly woman! [Exit.
DUCH. After, Aumerle! mount thee upon his

horse;

Spur, post, and get before him to the king,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York:
And never will I rise up from the ground,
Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee: "Away!
Begone.
[Exeunt.

SCENE III.-Windsor. A Room in the Castle. Enter BOLINGBROKE, as King; PERCY, and other Lords.

BOLING. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son ?(4) 'Tis full three months since I did see him last: If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.

*

I would to God, my lords, he might be found :
Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose companions—

Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
And beat our watch, and rob‡ our passengers;
Which he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour, to support
So dissolute a crew.b

PERCY. My lord, some two days since I saw the prince,

And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. BOLING. And what said the gallant?

PERCY. His answer was, he would unto the

stews,

And from the commonest creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour; and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
BOLING. As dissolute as desperate: yet through
both,

I see some sparkles of a better hope,