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, K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught,† Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,- An if my word be sterling yet in England, Boling. Go some of you, and fetch a looking- K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere 1 Boling. Urge it no more, my lord Northum Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon, Aud then begone, and trouble you no more. Shall I obtain it? Boling. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. Fair cousin? Why, I am greater than a king: For, when I was a king, my flatterers K. Rich. And shall I have? K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the K. Rich. O, good! Convey?-Conveyers* That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. [Exeunt K. RICHARD, some Lords, and a Guard. Boling. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. [Exeunt all but the ABBOT, Bishop of CARLISLE, and AUMERLE. Abbot. A woful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe's to come; the children yet And made no deeper wounds?—O, flattering | SCENE face, That, like the sun, did make beholders wink? [Dashes 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. Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath The shadow of your face. [destroy'd 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 ↑ Haughty. * Pack. ACT V. [Exeunt. I.-London.—A Street leading to the Tower. Enter QUEEN, and LADIES. To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower, Enter King RICHARD, and Guards. K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, | Part us, Northumberland; I towards the do not so, To make my end too sudden learn, good soul, Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw, To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught [tales I had been still a happy king of men. [black. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, allended. To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. So, now, I have my own again, begone, Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is SCENE II.-The same A Room in the Duke chang'd; You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.- The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, [half, And he shall think, that thou, which know'st the way To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, throne. The love of wicked friends converts to fear; When weeping made you break the story off, Duch. At that sad stop, my lord, dows' tops, 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, Bolingbroke! [spake, You would have thought the very windows So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage; and that all the walls, Take leave, and part; for you must part forth-With painted imag'ry, had said at once,K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd?-Bad man, ye Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke! Whilst he from one side to the other turning, Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's violate A twofold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me; neck, All-hallows, i e. All-saints, Nov. 1. † Never the nigher. Tapestry hung from the windows. Duch. Why, what is it, my lord? Bespake them thus,-I thank you, country men; And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the while? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men, Even so, or with much more contempt, men's Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle. But that is lost, for being Richard's friend, 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 cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs‡ and triumphs? Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do. Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing. York. No matter then who sees it: I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. horse: Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, I will appeach the villain. [Exit Servant. Duch. What's the matter? York. Peace, foolish woman. Duch. I will not peace :-What is the mat ter, son? Aum. Good mother be content; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. Duch. Thy life answer! Re-enter Servant, with Boots. York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou Hence, villain; never more come in my sight.- Duch. He shall be none; Fond woman! were he twenty times my son, I would appeach him. Duch. Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou’d'st 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: [mind: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him. [Exit. York, Make way, unruly woman. Spur, post; and get before him to the king, SCENE III.-Windsor.- A Room in the Castle. other Lords. Percy. My Lord, some two days since I saw the Prince; [ford, And told him of these triumphs held at Ox Boling. And what said the gallant? Percy. His answer was, he would unto the stews; And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, And wear it as a favour; and with that I see some sparkles of a better hope, Enter AUMERLE, hastily. Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? your majesty, 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 If but the first, how heinous ere it be, (fault? To win thy after-love, I pardon thee. Aum. Theo give me leave that I may turn That no man enter fill my tale be done. [AUMERLE locks the door. York. [Within.] My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand; Thou hast no cause to fear. [Drawing. York. [Within.] Open the door, secure, fool-hardy king: Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? 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 know The treason that my haste forbids me show. Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy pro mise past: I do repent me: read not my name there, it down. Thy overflow of good converts to bad; And he shall spend mine honour with his Boling. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this eager cry? ['tis I, Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king, 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, Aud now chang'd to The Beggar and the My dangerous cousin, let your mother in; Enter DUCHESS. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted Love, loving not itself, none other can. [man; York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? make‡ here? 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 kueel 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. [Kneels. York. Against them both, my true joints bended be. Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; [jest; His is eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in 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 be side: His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow; [have His prayers are full of false hypocrisy; have. Boling. Good aunt, stand up. I never long'd to hear a word till now; meet. * Transgressing. York. Speak it in French, king; say, pardon nez moy. Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, there : Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearse. Duch. I do not sue to stand, me. Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! Boling. With all my heart I pardon him. Duch. A god on earth thou art. A generation of still-breeding thoughts, In humours, like the people of this world, As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd As thus, Come little ones; and then again,- That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,— | Thus play I, in one person, many people, and the abbot, And none contented: Sometimes am I king; am, Nor I, nor any man, that but man is, [Music. Ha, ha! keep time :-How sour sweet music is, When time is broke, and no proportion kept! I wasted time, and now doth time waste me. My thoughts are minutes; and, with sighs, they jari Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and |