Aum. Comfort, my Liege, why looks your Grace fo pale?

;

K. Rich. But now the blood of twenty thousand men Did triumph in my face, and they are fled. And till fo much blood thither come again, Have I not reafon to look pale, and dead? All fouls, that will be fafe, fly from my fide For time hath fet a blot upon my pride. Aum. Comfort, my Liege; remember who you K. Rich. I had forgot myfelf. Am I not King? Awake, thou coward Majefty, thou fleepeft; Is not the King's name forty thoufand names Arm, arm, my Name; a puny Subject strikes (2) At thy great glory. Look not to the ground, Ye fav'rites of a King, are we not high?

?

High be our thoughts. I know, my uncle York
Hath pow'r to ferve our turn.

are.

10/1

But who comes here?

SCENE IV.

Enter Scroop.

Scroop. More health and happiness betide my Liege, Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him!

K. Rich. (7) Mine ear is open, and my heart prepar'd. The worst is worldly lofs thou canft unfold. Say, is my Kingdom loft? why, 'twas my care, And what lofs is it, to be rid of care? Stri, Bolingbroke to be as great as we? Greater he fhall not be; if he serve God, We'll ferve him too, and be his fellow fo. Revolt our Subjects? that we cannot mend; They break their faith to God, as well as us. Cry, Woe, Destruction, Ruin, Lofs, Decay ; The worft is death, and death will have his day. Scroop. Glad am I, that your Highness is fo arm'd

(7) Mine ear is open,] It feems to be the defign of the poet to raife Richard to esteem in his fall, and confequently to intereft the reader in his favour. He gives him only paffive fortitude, the vir tue of a confeffor rather than of a king. In his profperity we faw him imperious and oppreffive, but in his diftrefs he is wife, patient, and pious.

Το

To bear the tidings of calamity.

Like an unfeasonable stormy day,

Which makes the filver rivers drown their fhores,
As if the world were all diffolv'd to tears;

So high above his limits fwells the rage

Of Bolingbroke, cov'ring your fearful Land

With hard bright fteel, and hearts more hard than steel.
White beards have arm'd their thin and hairlefs fcalps
Against thy Majefty; boys with women's voices
Strive to fpeak big, and clafp their female joints
In ftiff unwieldy arms, against thy Crown.
(8) Thy very Beadsmen learn to bend their bows107
(9) Of double-fatal Ewe, against thy State.
Yea, diftaff-women manage rufty bills.
Againft thy Seat both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have pow'r to tell.

K. Rich. Too well, too well, thou tell'ft a Tale fo ill. (1) Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bago: ? What

-] Such is the

(8) The very Beadfmen learn to bend their bows.reading of all the copies, yet I doubt whether beadfmen be right, for the bow feems to be mentioned here is the proper weapon of a beadfman. The king's beadfmen were his chaplains. Trenfa calis himfelf the beadfman of his patron. Beadman might likewife be any men maintained by charity to pray for their benefactor. Hanmer reads the very beadfmen, but thy is better.

(9) Of double fatal Ewe,] Called fo, because the leaves of the Ewe are poifon, and the wood is employed for inftruments of death; therefore double fatal fhould be with an-hyphen. WARBURTON.

(1) Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?

What is become of Bushy here is Green?] Here are four of them named; and, within a very few Lines, the King, hearing they had made their Peace with Bolingbroke, calls them THRE Judas's. But how was their Peace made? Why, with the Lofs of their Heads. This being explained, Aumerle fays, Is Bufhy, Green, and th' Earl of Wilshire dead? So that Bagot ought to be eft out of the Queftion: and, indeed, he had made the best of his way for Chefter, and from thence had efcap'd into Ireland. And fo we find him, in the 2d Act, determining to do.

Bagot. No: I'll to Ireland, to his Majesty.

The poet could not be guilty of fo much Forgetfulness and Abfur dity. The Tranfcribers must have blunder'd. It feems probable to me that he wrote, as I have conjecturally alter'd the Text, Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is he got?

i. e. into what Corner of my Dominions is he flunk, and abfcond

ed?

What is become of Bufhy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Measure our confines with fuch peaceful steps?
If we prevail, their heads fhall pay for it.

I warrant, they've made peace with Bolingbroke.
Scroop. Peace they have made with him, indeed, my
Lord.

K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption !

Dogs, eafily won to fawn on any man!

Snakes in my heart-blood warm'd, that fting my heart!
Three Judaffes, each one thrice worfe than Judas!
Would they make peace? terrible hell make war
Upon their spotted fouls for this offence!

Scroop. Sweet love, I fee, changing his property,
Turns to the fow'reft and most deadly hate.
Again uncurfe their fouls; their peace is made
With heads, and not with hands; thofe, whom you curfe,
Have felt the worft of death's destroying hand,
And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow'd ground.
Aum. Is Bufby, Green, and th' Earl of Wiltshire dead?
Scroop, Yea, all of them at Bristol loft their heads.
Aum. Where is the Duke my Father, with his Power?
K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man fpeak;
Let's talk of Graves, of Worms, and Epitaphs,
Make duft our paper, and with rainy eyes
Write forrow on the bofom of the earth!
Let's chufe executors, and talk of wills;
And yet not fo-for what can we bequeath,
Save our depofed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own, but death;
(2) And that small model of the barren earth,

(3) Which

This emendation Dr. Warburton adopts. Hanmer leaves a blank after Wiltfbire. I believe the authour, rather than tranfcriber, made a mistake. Where is he got does not found in my ear like an expreffion of Shakespeare.

(2) And that small model of the barren earth,] He uses model here, as he frequently does elfewhere, for part, portion.

WARBURTON. He uses it rather for mould. That earth, which clofing upon the

body,

(3) Which ferves as paste and cover to our bones.
For heav'n's fake, let us fit upon the ground,
And tell fad ftories of the death of Kings;

How fome have been depos'd, fome flain in war;
Some haunted by the Ghofts they difpoffefs'd;
Some poifon'd by their wives, fome fleeping kill'd;
All murther'd.-For within the hollow Crown,
That rounds the mortal temples of a King,
Keeps Death his Court; and (4) there the Antick fits,
Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pomp;
- Allowing him a breath, a little scene

To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks
Infufing him with felf and vain conceit,
As if this flesh, which walls about our life,
Were brafs impregnable; and, humour'd thus,
Comes at the laft, and with a little pin

Bores through his caftle-walls, and farewel King!
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With folemn Rev'rence; throw away refpect,
(5) Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while
I live on bread like you, feel want like you.
Tafte grief, need friends, like you; fubjected thus,
How can you fay to me, I am a King?

Carl. My lord, wife men ne'er wail their prefent woes, But prefently prevent the ways to wail:

To fear the foe, fince fear oppreffeth ftrength,
Gives, in your weaknefs, ftrength unto your foe;
And fo your follies fight against yourself.

Fear, and be flain; no worfe can come from fight ;
And fight and die, is (6) death deftroying death:
Where fearing dying, pays death fervile breath.

D 31300

Aum.

body, takes its form. This interpretation the next line feems to authorise.

pie.

(3) A metaphor, not of the moft fublime kind, taken from a

(4) There the Antick fits,] Here is an allufion to the antick or fool of old farces, whofe chief part is to deride and disturb the graver and more fplendid perfonages.

(5) Tradition,] This word feems here used in an improper fenfe, for traditional practices: That is, established or customary homage. (6) Death deftroying death:] That is, to dye fighting, is to return

the

Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him, And learn to make a body of a limb.

K. Rich. Thou chid'ft me well; proud Bolingbroke, I

come

To change blows with thee, for our day of doom.
This ague-fit of fear is over-blown

An eafy tafk it is to win our own.

;

Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his Power?
Speak fweetly, man, although thy looks be fower.
Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
'The ftate and inclination of the day;

So may you, by my dull and heavy eye,
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to fay.
I play the torturer, by fmall and finall
To lengthen out the worst, that must be fpoken.
Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern caftles yielded-up,
And all your fouthern gentlemen in arms
Upon his faction.

K. Rich. Thou haft faid enough.

Befhrew thee, Coufin, which didft lead me forth

Of that sweet way I was in to Defpair.

[To Aumerle.

What fay you now? what comfort have we now?
By heav'n, (7) I'll hate him everlastingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Go to Flint-caftle, there I'll pine away,
A King, woe's flave, fhall kingly woe obey:
That Pow'r I have, difcharge; and let 'em go
To ear the land, that hath fome hope to grow,
For I have none. Let no man fpeak again
To alter this, for counfel is but vain.
Aum. My Liege, one word.

K. Rich.

L

the evil that we fuffer, to deftroy the deftroyers. I once read death defying death, but deftroying is as well.

(7) Ill hate him everlastingly,

That bids me be of comfort.-]

This fentiment is drawn from nature. Nothing is more offenfive to a mind convinced that his diftrefs is without a remedy, and preparing to fubmit quietly to irrefiftible calamity, than thefe petty and conjectured comforts which unfkilful officioufnefs thinks it vir tue to adminifter.