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 And never borrow any tear of thee. Enter a Gardener and two Servants. Give some supportance to the bending twigs.- 1st Serv. Why should we, in the compass of a pale, Keep law, and form, and due proportion, 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 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: I speak no more than every one doth know. Thy sorrow in my breast.—Come, ladies, go, 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. ACT IV. The SCENE I.-London. Westminster Hall. Enter BOLINGBROke, Aumerle, SURREY, NORTH- 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, As 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 Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be, Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen. 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 Car. Marry, God forbid !— Lest child, child's children, cry against you— "woe!" North. Well have you argued, sir; and, for Little are we beholden to your love, [To CARLISLE. Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and Officers bearing the crown, &c. K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, none. God save the King!-Will no one say Amen? York. To do that office, of thine own good will, K. Rich. Give me the crown.-Here, cousin, Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, thine. The other down, unseen, and full of water: With mine own hands I give away my crown, No more but that you read K. Rich. Must I do so; and must I ravel out Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop And cracking the strong warrant of an oath) K. Rich. My crown I am; but still my griefs And water cannot wash away your sin. are mine. You may my glories and my state depose, your crown. K. Rich. Your cares set up do not pluck my My care is loss of care, by old care done : Therefore no "no," for I resign to thee. North. My lord, despatch: read o'er these articles. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, in sulting man, Nor no man's lord: I have no name, no title O, that I were a mockery king of snow, 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.- And made no deeper wounds?-O flattering glass, Thou dost beguile me!-Was this face 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 Boling. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. Fair cousin! Why, I am greater than a king: For when I was a king my flatterers I have a king here to my flatterer. K. Rich. And shall I have? K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. 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 Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, I see your brows are full of discontent, [Exeunt. |