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. 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,
To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
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, damn'd in the book of heaven:
Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me,
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
Though some of you, with Pilate, wash
Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your

sin.
North. My lord, despatch ; read o'er these articles.

K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:
And yet salt water blinds them not so much,
But they can see a sort a 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 ;

your hands.

a A sort-a company.

So in Richard III.'-
“ A sort of vagabonds, rascals, and runaways.”'

Made glory base ; a sovereignty a slave;
Proud majesty a subject; state a peasant.

North. My lord, ---

K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, insulting man, No, nor no man's lord ; I have no name, no title, No, not that name was given me at the font,But 't is 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 good) An if my word be sterling yet in England, 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.
North. Read o'er this paper, while the glass doth come.
K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere I come to hell.
Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.
North. The commons will not then be satisfied.

K. Rich. 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 glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
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?
Is this the face which fac'd so many follies,
That was at last outfac’d by Bolingbroke?

A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face;

[Dashes the glass against the ground.
For there it is, crack'd in an hundred shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,-
How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.

Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
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 laments a
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?
Boling.

Name it, fair cousin.
K. Rich. Fair cousin ? 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?
K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.

K. Rich. O, good! Convey ?-Conveyers b are you all, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

Exeunt K. RICHARD, some Lords, and a Guard.

a Laments is the reading of the old copies ; modern editions, lament.

Conveyers. Conveyer was sometimes used in an ill sense, --as a fraudulent appropriator of property, a juggler. In Tyndall's works we have, “ What say ye of

Boling. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Our coronation : lords, prepare yourselves.

Exeunt all but the ABBOT, BISHOP OF CARL., and Aum. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld.

Car. The woe's to come; the children yet 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,
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.

this crafty conveyer, which feareth not to juggle with the Holy Scripture ?” Pistol gives it as a soft name for stealing—“ Convey the wise it call.”

1 Scene I.

“ And there, at Venice, gave

His body to that pleasant country's earth." The remains of Thomas Mowbray were interred in Saint Mark's church, in Venice, A.D. 1399; but his ashes were removed to England in 1533. The slab which originally covered these remains at the latter end of the seventeenth century stood under the gallery of the ducal palace; and the arms of Thomas Mowbray being very elaborately engraved upon it, the stone was described by an Italian writer in 1682 as a Venetian hieroglyphic. By the indefatigable inquiries of Mr. Rawdon Brown, an English gentleman residing in Venice, this most curious monument was traced, in 1839, to the possession of a stonemason ; and it has been sent to England, and is now safe in the custody of Mr. Howard, of Corby.

HISTORICAL ILLUSTRATION.

The fourth act of Shakspere's History of “Richard II.' opens with the assembly of Bolingbroke and the peers in parliament. The entry of the triumphant Henry of Lancaster and the captive king into London is reserved by the poet for the unequalled description by York to his Duchess in the fifth act. But, as we are following the course of real events, we will very briefly describe the proceedings between the surrender of Richard at Flint Castle and his deposition.

After the interview between Richard and Bolingbroke, the author of the “Metrical History' thus proceeds: “ The said Duke Henry called aloud with a stern and savage voice, “ Bring out the king's horses;' and then they brought him two little horses that were not worth forty francs. The king mounted one, and the Earl of Salisbury the other.” Henry, with his captives, set out from Flint, and proceeded to Chester, where they stayed three days. The duke then dismissed many of his followers, saying that thirty or forty thousand men would be sufficient to take the king to London. At Lichfield the unhappy Richard attempted to escape by night, letting himself down into a garden through a window of his tower. The French knight goes on to record that a deputation arrived from London, to request Henry, on the part of the commons, to cut off the king's head; to which request Heury replied, “ Fair sirs, it would be a very great disgrace to us for ever if we should thus put him to death ; but we will bring him to London, and there he shall be judged by the parliament.” Proceeding by Coventry, Daventry, Northampton, Dunstable, and St. Alban’s, the army reached within six miles of London. Here the cavalcade was met by the Mayor, accompanied by a very great number of the

They paid much greater respect,” says the writer, “ to Duke Henry than to the king, shouting with a loud and fearful voice, · Long live the Duke of Lancaster!'") Richard was taken, according to this relation, to Westminster. Henry, who entered the city at the hour of vespers, “ alighted at St. Paul's, and went all armed before the high altar to make his orisons. He returned by the tomb of his father, which is very nigh to the said altar, and there he wept very

commons.