W

That fet'ft the word itself against the word!-
Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to fpeak, fet thy tongue there:
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee pardon to rehearse.
Boling. Good aunt, ftand up.

Dutch. I do not fue to ftand,

Pardon is all the fuit I have in hand.

Boling. I pardon him, as heaven shall pardon me.
Dutch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I fick for fear: fpeak it again;
Twice faying pardon, doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon ftrong.

Boling. With all my heart

I pardon him.

Dutch. A god on earth thou art.

Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law-and the

abbot,

With all the rest of that conforted crew,-
Destruction straight fhall dog them at the heels.-
Good uncle, help to order several powers
To Oxford, or where-e'er these traitors are:
They shall not live within this world, I fwear,
But I will have them, if I once know where.
Uncle, farewell;-and coufin too, adieu :
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
Dutch. Come, my old fon; I pray heaven make thee

new.

chepping]-jabbering.

[Exeunt.

brother-in-law]-John Holland, Duke of Exeter, and Earl of Huntingdon, own brother to Richard II, who had married the Lady Eliza◄ beth, filter to Bolingbroke.

SCENE

Exton. Didft thou not mark the king, what words he fpake?

Have I no friend, will rid me of this living fear?

Was it not fo?

Serv. Those were his very words.

Exton. Have I no friend? quoth he: he spake it twice, And urg'd it twice together; did he not.

Serv. He did.

Exton. And, fpeaking it, he wiftly look'd on me ;.
As who should say,-I would, thou wert the man
That would divorce this terror from my heart;
Meaning, the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go;
I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.

SCENE V.

The Prison at Pomfret caftle.

Enter King Richard.

[Exeunt.

K. Rich. I have been studying how I may compare

This prifon, where I live, unto the world:
And, for because the world is populous,
And here is not a creature but myself,

I cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out,
My brain fhall prove the female to my foul;
My foul, the father: and these two beget

A generation of ftill-breeding thoughts,

And these fame thoughts people this little world;

Y this little world;]-his own frame, the human microcofm, as 'tis often called.

Gg 4

In

In humours, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better fort,-
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd
With fcruples, and do fet the word itself
Against the word:

As thus,-Come, little ones; and then again,-
It is as hard to come, as for a camel

To thread the poftern of a needle's eye.

Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails
May tear a paffage through the flinty ribs
Of this hard world, my ragged prifon walls;
And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,—
That they are not the first of fortune's flaves,
Nor fhall not be the laft; Like filly beggars,
Who, fitting in the stocks, refuge their fhame,-
That many have, and others must fit there:
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortune on the back
Of fuch as have before endur'd the like.
Thus play I, in one perfon, many people,
And none contented: Sometimes am I king;
Then treafon makes me with myself a beggar,
And fo I am: Then crufhing penury
Perfuades me, I was better when king;
Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by,
Think, that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,

And straight am nothing :-But, what-e'er I am,
Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,

With nothing shall be pleas'd, 'till he be eas'd
With being nothing.-Mufic do I hear?
Ha, ha keep time :-How four fweet mufic is,

[Mufic.

z prison.

When

When time is broke, and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of mens' lives.

And here have I the daintinefs of ear,

To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
But, for the concord of my ftate and time,
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wafted time, and now doth time waste me.
For now hath time made me his numb'ring clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and, with fighs, they jar
Their watches on; mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,

C

Is pointing ftill, in cleanfing them from tears.
Now, fir, the founds that tell what hour it is,
Are clamorous groans, that ftrike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: So fighs, and tears, and groans,
Shew minutes, times, and hours :-but my time
Runs pofting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock,
This mufic mads me, let it found no more;
For, though it have holpe madmen to their wits,
In me, it seems, it will make wife men mad.
Yet, bleffing on his heart that gives it me!
For 'tis a fign of love; and love to Richard
'Is a ftrange brooch in this all-hating world,

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal prince!

K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer;

a To check]-To chide, correct-To bear.

band, with fighs, they jar their watches on ;]-which are mark'd out by my fighs, refembling, both in their harfhnefs, and frequency, the vibrations of a pendulum.

the outward watch,]-the outward part, or plate of the watch.

bis Jack o' the clock.]-the figure of a man ftriking the hours, &c. on the bell-and ftrike for him.

emadmen]-perfons bitten by the Tarantula."

Is a frange brooch in this all-bating world.]-An ornament out of fashion, a rarity in this world made up of malice.

The

The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
What art thou? and how comeft thou hither,
Where no man ever comes, but that fad dog
That brings me food, to make misfortune live?
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king,
When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
With much ado, at length have gotten leave
To look upon my sometime royal master's face.
O, how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld,
In London streets, that coronation day,
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary!
That horse, that thou fo often haft beftrid;
That horse, that I fo carefully have dress'd!
K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
How went he under him?

Groom. So proudly, as if he had difdain'd the ground. R. Rich. So proud, that Bolingbroke was on his back! That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;

This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,
(Since pride must have a fall) and break the neck
Of that proud man, that did ufurp his back?
Forgiveness, horfe! why do I rail on thee,
Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
Waft born to bear? I was not made a horse;
And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
Spur-gall'd, and tir'd, by jauncing Bolingbroke.

Enter Keeper, with a dish.

Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.

[To the Groom. R. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.

• That fad dog]-gloomy flave. jauneing]-that rough rider.

Groom.