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To grim necessity; and he and I
Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
And cloister there 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

Transform'd and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke
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 woful ages, long ago betid:1

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief,
Tell them the lamentable fall' of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
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.-
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you:4
With all swift speed you must away to France.
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;

And he shall think, that thou, which know'st 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 'twas 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,

1 Passed.

2 To requite their mournful stories.

3 The quarto of 1597 reads tale.

4 Thus in Othello:

Honest lago hath ta'en order for it.'

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'."
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:
Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart.

[They kiss. Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart."

[Kiss again.

So now I have mine own again, begone,
That I may strive to kill it with a groan.

K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond

delay:

Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. [Exeunt.
SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Duke of
York's Palace. Enter YORK, and his Duchess.18
Duch. My lord, you told me, you would tell the
rest,
When weeping made you break the story off
Of our two cousins coming into London.
York. Where did I leave?
Duch.
At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude misgovern'd hands, from windows' tops,
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.

York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Boling-
broke,-

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 imag'ry, 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. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the
while?

York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,11
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
Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him;

10 The first wife of Edward duke of York was Isabella, daughter of Peter the Cruel, king of Castile and Leon. He married her in 1372, and had by her the duke of Aumerle, and all his other children. In introducing her the poet has departed widely from history; for she

5 A kiss appears to have been an established circum- died in 1394, four or five years before the events related

stance in our ancient marriage ceremonies.

6 All Hallows, i. e. All Saints, Nov. 1.
7 The quartos give this speech to the king.

9 Never the nizher, i. e. it is better to be at a great
distance than being near each other, to find that we are
yet not likely to be peaceably and happily united.'
9 So in King Henry V Act ii. Sc. 2:-
the king hath kill'd his heart."

in the present play. After her death York married Joan, daughter of John Holland, earl of Kent, who survived him about thirty-four years, and had three other husbands.

11 The painting of this description is so lively, and the words so moving, that I have scarce read any thing comparable to it in any other language.'-Dryden; Pref. to Troilus and Cressida.

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.
To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
Enter AUMERLE.

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.

Duch. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets

now,

That strew the green lap of the new-come spring ?2
Aum. 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 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.
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?

Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
Aum. My lord, 'tis 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 see.
I fear, I fear,-

Duch.

What should you fear?

"Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd into
For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day.
York. Bound to himself? what doth he with

bond

That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.-
Boy, let me see the writing.

Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not

show it.

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.

As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful.
Hadst thou groan'd for him,
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:
He is as like thee as a man may be,
Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind:
Not like to me, or 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,
;I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.

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.

a "Tis full three months since I did see him last;-
Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?
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;
While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy,
Ser-Takes on the point of honour, to support

York. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
[Snatches it, and reads.

Treason! foul treason!-villain! traitor! slave!
Duch. What is the matter, my lord?
York. Ho! who is within there? [Enter a
vant.] Saddle my horse.

God for his mercy! what treachery is here!
Duch. Why, what is it, my lord?
York. Give me my boots,

horse :-

say; saddle my

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[Exit Servant. What's the matter?

York. Peace, foolish woman.
Duch. I will not peace:-What is the matter, 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.

1 The dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter were
deprived of their dukedoms by an act of Henry's first
parliament, but were allowed to retain the earldoms of
Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon.'-Holinshed.
2 So in Milton's Song on May Morning :-
who from her green lap throws

The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose."

So dissolute a crew.4

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,
Which elder days may happily bring forth.
But who comes here?

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4 This is a very proper introduction to the future character of King Henry V. to his debaucheries in his youth, and his greatness in his manhood, as the poet has described them. But it has been ably contended by Mr. Luders that the whole story of his dissipation was a fiction. At this period (i. e. 1400) he was but twelve

3 The seals of deeds were formerly impressed on years old, being born in 1388, slips or labels of parchment appendant to them.

5 The folio reads sparks

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