ACT III. SCENE I.-Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol. Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, WILLOUGHBY, ROSS: Officers behind with BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners. Boling. Bring forth these men. Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls (Since presently your souls must part your bodies,) And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks Near to the king in blood; and near in love, Whilst you have fed upon my signories, Dispark'd my parks, and fell'd my forest woods; This, and much more, much more than twice all this, Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to me, Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewell. Green. My comfort is,-that heaven will take our souls, And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boling. My lord Northumberland, see them despatch'd. [Exeunt NORTHUMBERLAND and Others, with Prisoners. Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house; York. A gentleman of mine I have despatch'd Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.-Come, lords, away; To fight with Glendower and his complices; Awhile to work, and, after, holiday. [Exeunt. SCENE II.-The Coast of Wales. A Castle in view. Flourish: Drums and Trumpets. Enter King RICHARD, Bishop of Carlisle, AUMERLE, and Soldiers. K. Rich. Barkloughly castle call you this at hand? Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace the air, After late tossing on the breaking seas? K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep for joy, To stand upon my kingdom once again. Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting; Bishop. Fear not, my lord: that Power, that made you king, Hath power to keep you king, in spite of all. The means that heaven yields must be embrac❜d, Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; K. Rich. Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not, That when the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, and lights the lower world, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen, In murders, and in outrage, bloody here; But when, from under this terrestrial ball, He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines, And darts his light through every guilty hole, Then murders, treasons, and detested sins, The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs, Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves? So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,— Who all this while hath revell'd in the night, Whilst we were wand'ring with the antipodes,— Shall see us rising in our throne the east, His treasons will sit blushing in his face, Not able to endure the sight of day, But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin. Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm from an anointed king: The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord: For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd, A glorious angel: then, if angels fight, Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right. Enter SALISBURY. Welcome, my lord: How far off lies your power? And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men! O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state; Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale? K. Rich. But now, the blood of twenty thousand men Did triumph in my face, and they are fled: And, till so much blood thither come again, side; Have I not reason to look pale and dead? Aum. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are. |