Queen.

"T is well that thou hast cause:

But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou weep.

1st Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good.

Queen. And I could weep, would weeping do
me good,

And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the gardeners:
Let's step into the shadow of these trees.

Enter a Gardener and two Servants.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
They'll talk of state: for every one doth so
Against a change: woe is forerun with woe.
[QUEEN and Ladies retire.
Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:

Give some supportance to the bending twigs.-
Go thou, and, like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too-fast-growing sprays
That look too lofty in the commonwealth:
All must be even in our government.—
You thus employed, I will go root away
The noisome weeds that without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.

1st Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a pale,

Keep law, and form, and due proportion,
Shewing, as in a model, our firm estate,
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers choked up,
Her fruit-trees all unpruned, her hedges ruined,
Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?

He that hath suffered this disordered spring Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: The weeds that his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,

That seemed in eating him to hold him up, Are plucked up, root and all, by Bolingbroke: I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. 1st Serv. What, are they dead?

Gard. They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seized the wasteful King.-O what pity is it That he had not so trimmed and dressed his land As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees, Lest, being over-proud with sap and blood, With too much riches it confound itself: Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have lived to bear, and he to taste Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. 1st Serv. What, think you, then, the King shall be deposed?

Gard. Depressed he is already; and deposed 'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's, That tell black tidings.

Queen.

O, I am pressed to death Through want of speaking!-Thou old Adam's likeness, [coming from her concealment.

Set to dress this garden, how dares
Thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee
To make a second fall of curséd man?
Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed?
Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth,
Divine his downfall? Say where, when, and how,
Cam'st thou by these ill-tidings? Speak, thou

wretch.

Gard. Pardon me, madam: little joy have I To breathe this news: yet what I say is true. King Richard he is in the mighty hold

Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weighed:
In your lord's scale is nothing but himself,
And some few vanities that make him light:
But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
Besides himself, are all the English peers,
And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
Post you to London, and you'll find it so :

I speak no more than every one doth know.
Queen. Nimble mischance, that art so light of
Doth not thy embassage belong to me, [foot,
And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st
To serve me last, that I may longest keep

Thy sorrow in my breast.—Come, ladies, go,
To meet, at London, London's king in woe.-
What, was I born to this! that my sad look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?-
Gardener, for telling me this news of woe,
I would the plants thou graft'st may never grow
[Exeunt QUEEN and Ladies

Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be

no worse,

I would my skill were subject to thy curse.Here did she drop a tear: here in this place I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace.Rue (even for ruth) here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

[Exeunt.

The

SCENE I.-London. Westminster Hall.
Lords Spiritual on the right of the throne; the
Lords Temporal on the left; the Commons
below.

Enter BOLINGBROke, Aumerle, SURREY, NORTH-
UMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord,
BISHOP OF CARLISLE, ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER,
and Attendants. Officers behind with BAGOT.
Boling. Call forth Bagot.—

Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind:

What thou dost know of noble Gloster's death; Who

wrought it with the King, and who performed The bloody office of his timeless end.

Bagot. Then set before my face the lord Aumerle.

Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. [tongue

Bagot. My lord Aumerle, I know your daring Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered. In that dead time when Gloster's death was plotted, I heard you say, "Is not my arm of length, That reacheth from the restful English court As far as Calais, to my uncle's head?" Amongst much other talk, that very time I heard you say that you had rather refuse The offer of an hundred thousand crowns, Than Bolingbroke's return to England: Adding withal, how blest this land would be In this your cousin's death.

Aum.

Princes and noble lords, What answer shall I make to this base man? Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars On equal terms to give him chastisement? Either I must, or have mine honour soiled With the attainder of his slanderous lips.—

There is my gage, the manual seal of death, That marks thee out for hell: I say thou liest, And will maintain what thou hast said is false, In thy heart-blood, though being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword.

Boling. Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up. Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence that hath moved me so.

Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine. By that fair sun that shews me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest : And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forgéd, with my rapier's point.

Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see

that day.

Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest: his honour is as true In this appeal as thou art all unjust. And that thou art so, there I throw my gage To prove it on thee to the extremest point Of mortal breathing: seize it if thou dar'st.

Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe! [Aumerle;
Lord. I task the earth to the like, forsworn
And spur thee on with full as many lies

As
may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun. There is my honour's pawn:
Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st.

Aum. Who sets me else? By heaven, I'll throw

I have a thousand spirits in one breast, [at all: To answer twenty thousand such as you.

Surrey. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well The very time Aumerle and you did talk. Fitz. My lord, 't is true: you were in presence then;

And you can witness with me this is true. Surrey. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself

is true.

Fitz. Surrey, thou liest.

Surrey. Dishonourable boy! That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, That it shall render vengeance and revenge Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie In earth as quiet as thy father's skull. In proof whereof there is my honour's pawn: Engage it to the trial if thou dar'st.

he lies,

Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live, I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness, And spit upon him whilst I say And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith, To tie thee to my strong correction.As I intend to thrive in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal. Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais.

Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage That Norfolk lies:-here do I throw down this, If he may be repealed to try his honour.

Boling. These differences shall all rest under
gage

Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his land and signiories: when he's returned,
Against Aumerle we will enforce this trial.

Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought
For Jesu Christ: in glorious Christian field
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross,
Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
And, toiled with works of war, retired himself
To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Car. As sure as I live, my lord.
Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to

the bosom

Of good old Abraham!-Lords appellants, Your differences shall all rest under gage Till we assign you to your days of trial.

Enter YORK, attended.

York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-plucked Richard; who with willing soul

Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
To the possession of thy royal hand.
Ascend his throne, descending now from him:
And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
Boling. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal
throne.

Car. Marry, God forbid !—
Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
Would God that any in this noble presence
Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard! then true nobleness would
Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
What subject can give sentence on his king?
And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?
Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear,
Although apparent guilt be seen in them.
And shall the figure of God's majesty,
His captain, steward, deputy elect,
Anointed, crownéd, planted many years,
Be judged by subject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present ?-O forbid it, God,
That in a Christian climate souls refined
Should shew so heinous, black, obscene a deed!-
I speak to subjects; and a subject speaks,
Stirred up by heaven, thus boldly for his king.
My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king:
And if you crown him, let me prophesy,
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future ages groan for this foul act:
Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels;
And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind, confound:
Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,
Shall here inhabit, and this land be called
The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
O, if you rear this house against this house,
It will the wofullest division prove
That ever fell upon this curséd earth:
Prevent, resist it, let it not be so,

Lest child, child's children, cry against you— "woe!"

North. Well have you argued, sir; and, for

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 shew 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 Northum

berland.

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?-O 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?
Was this the face that faced so many follies,
And was at last out-faced 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, cracked in a hundred shivers. Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,— How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face. Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed

The shadow of your face.

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! Why, 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 are

you all,

That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

[Exeunt KING 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
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 shew us all a merry day.

[Exeunt.