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Stirr'd up by heaven, thus boldly for his king. They tend the crown, yet still with me they
My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, stay
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king: Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown 3

K. Rich. Ay, no ;-no, ay ;-for 1 must no-
The blood of English shall manure the ground, thing be;
And future ages groan for this foul act; Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels, Now mark me how I will undo myself :
And, in this seat of peace, tumnltuous wars I give this heavy weight from off my head,
Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind con- And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
found :

The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny

With mine own tears I wash away my balm, Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd With mine own hands I give away my crown, The field of Golgotha, and dead men's sculls. With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, 0, if you rear this house against this house, With mine own breath release all duteous oaths? It will the wofullest division prove,

All pomp and majesty I do forswear; That ever fell upon this cursed earth :

My manors, rents, revenues, I forego: Prevent, resist it, let it not be so,

My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny: Lest child's child's children cry against you- God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me! wo!

God keep all vows unbroke, are made to thee! North. Well have you argu'd, sir ; and, for Make me, that nothing have, with nothing your pains,

griev'd; Of capital treason we arrest you here :

And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all achiev'd! My lord of Westminster, be it your charge Long mayst thon live in Richard's seat to sit, To keep him safely till his day of trial.

And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit! May't please you, lords, to grant the commons' God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says, suit.

And send him many years of sunshine days! Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common What more remains ? view


No more, but that yon read He may surrender; so we shall proceed

(Offering a Paper Without suspicion,

These accusations, and these grievous crimes, York.

I will be his conduct [Exit. Committed by your person, and your followers, Boling. Lords, you that are here under our Against the state and profit of this land; arrest,

That, by confessing them, the souls of men Procure your sureties for your days of answer :- May deem that you are worthily depos'd. Little are we beholden to your love,

To Car.

K Rich. Must I do so ? and must travel out And little look'd for at your helping hands. My weav'd up follies ? Gentle Northumberland,

If ihy offences were upon record, Re-enter York, with King Richard, and officers Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop, bearing the crown, $c.

To read a lecture of them ? If thou would'st, K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, There should'st thou find one heinous article,Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Containing the deposing of a king, Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn’a And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, To insinuate, fatter, bow, and bend my knee:-Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaGive sorrow leave a while to tutor me To this submission. Yet I well remember Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me, The favours of these men : Were they not mine? Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, Did they not sometime cry, all haill to me? Though some of you, with Pilate, wash you So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,

hands, Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thou- Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates sand, none.

Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, God save the king !-Will no man say, amen. And water cannot wash away your sin. Am I both priest and clerk ? well then, amen. North. My lord, despatch; read o'er these God save the king! although I be not he:

articles. And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cada To do what service am I sent for hither?

not see: York. To do that office, of thine own good will, And yet salt water blinds them not so much, Which tired majesty did make thee offer, But they can see a sort of traitors here. The resignation of thy state and crown

Nay, if I turn mine cyes upon myself, To Henry Bolingbroke.

I find myself a traitor with the rest : K. Rich. Give me the crown ;-Here, cousin, For I have given here my soul's consent, seize the crown;

To wdeck the pompous body of a king; On this side, my hand; and on that side, thine, Make glory base ; and sovereignty, a slave; Now is this golden crown like a deep well, Proud majesty, a subject; state, a peasant That owes two buckets filling one another; North. My lord, The emptier ever dancing in the air,

K. Rich. 'No lord of thine, thou haught, in The other down, unseen, and full of water;

sulting man, That bucket down, and full of tears, am I, Nor no man's lord ; I have no name, no titleDrinking my griefs, whilst you mount 'up on No, not that name was given me at the font,high.

But 'tis usurp'd :-Alack the heavy day, Boling. I thought, you had been willing to That I have worn so many winters ont, resign.

And know not now what name to call myself! K. Rich. My crown, I am ; but still my griefs O, that I were a mockery king of snow, are mine;

Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, You may my glories and my state depose, To melt myself away in water drops ! But not my griefg; still am I king of those. Good king, -great king,-(and yet not grently Boling. Part of your cares you give me with good,) your crown.

An if my word be sterling, yet in England, K. Rich. Your cares set up, do not pluck my Let it command a mirror híther straight; cares down.

That it may show me what a face I have, My care is loss of cave, by old care done; Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. Your care is-gain of care, by new care won: Boling. Go some of you, and fetch a lookingThe cares I give, I have, though given away ;


(Erit an Attendant


the way


North. Read o'er this paper, while the glass Your hearts of sorrow, and your eves of tears;
doth come.

Come home with me to supper; I will lay
K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere 1A plot, shall show us all a merry day. [Exeunt.

come to hell.
Boling. Urge it no more, my Lord Northum-

North. The commons will not then be satisfied. SCENE I. London. A Street leading to the
K. Rich. They shall be satisfied : I'll read


Enter Queen, and Ladies.
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that's my self.

Queen. This way the king will come; this is
Re-enter Attendant, with a Glass. To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower,
Give me that glass, and therein will I read. - To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
No deeper wrinkles yet ? Hath sorrow struck

Is door'd a prisoner, by proud Bolingbroke.
So many blows upon this face of mine,

Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
And made no deeper wounds ?-0, 'Aattering Have any resting for her true king's queen

Enter King Richard, and Guards.
Like to my followers in prosperity,

But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face,

My fair rose wither: Yet look up; behold;
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face, Aud wash him fresh again with true-love tears.-

That you in pity may dissolve to dew,
That, like the sun, did make beholders wink?

Ah, thou the model where old Troy did stand;
Was this the face, that fac'd so many follies,

Thou map of honour; thou King Richard's And was at last ont-fac'd hy Bolingbroke?

tomb, A brittle glory shineth in this face:

And not King Richard ; thou most beauteous As brille as the glory is the face ;

| Dashes the Glass against the ground. Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodg'd in For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.

Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, When triumph is become an ale-house guest?
How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do
Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath de-

not so,

To make my end too sudden; learn, good soul,
The shadow of your face.

To think our former state a happy dream;
K. Rich.

Say that again.

From which awak'd, the truth of what we are The shadow of my sorrow ? Ha! let's see : Shows us but this; I'am sworn brother, sweet, "Tis very true, my grief lies all within ;

To grim necessity; and he and I
And these external manners of lament

Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France,
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief,

And cloister thee in some religious house:
That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul;
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king, Which our profane hours here have stricken

Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st'

down Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way

Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,

and mind
And then be gone, and trouble you no more. Transform’d and weaken'd? Hath Bolingbroke
Shall I obtain it?
Name it, fair cousin.

Depos'd thine intellect? hath he been in thy

K. Rich. Fair cousin! I am greater than a The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
For, when I was a king, my flatterers

To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Were then but subjects being now a subject,

Take thy correction mildly? kiss the rod,
I have a king here to my flatterer.

And fawn on rage with base humility,
Being so great, I have no need to beg.

Which art a lion, and a king of beasts?
Boling. Yet ask.

K. Kich. A king of beasts, indeed : if aucht
K. Rich. And shall I have ?

but beasts,
Boling. You shall.
K. Rich. Then give me leave to go.

I had been still a happy king of men.

Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for Boling. Whither ?

France : K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st, your sights.

As from my death-bed, my last living leave. Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire Tower

With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales K. Rich. O, good! Convey ?-Conveyers are of woful ages, long ago betid :

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief, That rise thns nimbly by a true king's fall.

Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
(Ereunt K. Rich: some Lords, and a Guard. And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
Boling. On Wednesday next we solemnly set For why, the senseless brands will sympathize

Our coronation : lords, prepare yourselves.

The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
(Exeunt all but the Abbot, Bishop of Carlisle, And'some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,

And, in compassion, weer the fire out :
and Aumerle.

For the deposing of a rightful king.
Abbot. A woful pageant have we here beheld.
Car. The wo's to come; the children yet un-

Enter Northumberland, attended.

North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.

Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? And, madam, there is order ta'en for you :
Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein, With all swift speed you must away to France
You shall not only take the sacrament

K. Rich Northumberland, thou ladder whero.
To bury mine intents, but also to effect

witha) Whatever I shall happen to devise

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, I see your brows are full of discontent, The time shall not be many hours of age


you all,

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More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head, With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course,
Shall break into corruption : thou shalt think, While all iongues cried-God save thee, Boling.
Thongh he divide the realm, and give thee hall, broke!
It is too little, helping him to all ;

You would have thought the very window
And he shall think, that thou, which know'st spake,

So many greedy looks of young and old
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way, Upon his visage : and that all the walls,
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. With painted imag'ry, had said at once,-
The love of wicked friends converts to fear; Jesu preserve thee ? welcome, Bolingbroke!
That fear, to hate; and hate turns one, or both, Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
To worthy danger, and deserved death.

Bare-headed lower than his proud steed's neck, North. My guilt be on my head, and there an Bespake them thus, -I thank you, countrymau : end.

And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along Take leave, and part; for you must part forth Duch. Alas, poor Richard ! where rides he the with.

while ? K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd 7—Bad men, ye

York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,

After a well grac'd actor leaves the stage,
A twofold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me; Are idly bent on him that enters next,
And then, betwixt me and my married wife. - Thinking his pratile to be tedious:
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me; Even so, or with much more contempt, meu's
And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.-

Part us, Northumberland : I towards the north, Did scowl on Richard: no man cried, God save
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the

him; clime;

No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home: My wife to France; from whence, set forth in But dust was thrown upon his sacred head pomp,

Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, -
She came adorned hither like sweet May;

His face still combating with tears and smiles,
Sent back like Hallowmas, or short'st of day. The badges of his grief and patience,-
Queen. And must we be divided ? must we part? That had not God, for some strong purpose,
K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and

heart from heart.

The hearts of men, they must perforce have
| Queen. Banish us both, and send the king with melted,

And barbarism itself have pitied him.
North. That were some love, but little policy. But heaven hath a hand in these events;
Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me To whose high will we bound our calm contents

To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one Whose state and honour I for aye allow.

Enter Aurnerle.
Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off, than--near, be ne'er the near. Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle.
Go, count thy way with sighs; I, mine with York.

Aumerle that was ,

But that is lost, for being Richard's friend ; Queen. So longest way shall have the longest And, madam, you must call him Rutland now : moans.

I am in parliament pledge for his truth, K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, the And lasting fealty to the new-made king. way being short,

Duch. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets And piece the way out with a heavy heart.

Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, That strew the green lap of the new-come spring?
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief. Am. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care
One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly not;

God knows, I had as lief be none as one.
Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart. York. Well, bear you well in this new spring

(They kiss.

of time, Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. good part,

What news from Oxford ? hold those justs and To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.

triumphs ?

(Kiss again. Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do. So now I have mine own again, begone,

York. You will be there, I know.'
That I may strive to kill it with a groan. Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so.
K. Rich. We make wo wanton with this fond York. What seal is that, that hangs about thy
delay :

hosom ?
Once more, adieu ; the rest let sorrow say. Yea, look'st thou pale ? let me see the writing.

[Ereunt. Aum. My lord, 'us nothing.

No matter then who sees it:
SCENE II. The same.

I will be satisfied, let me see the writing.

Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me;
A Room in the Duke of York's Palace.

It is a matter of small consequence,
Enter York, and his Duchess. Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
Duch. My lord, you told me, you would tell York. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to

the rest,
When weeping made you break the story off,

I fear, I fear,Of our two cousins coming into London.


What should you fear ? York. Where did I leave?

'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd Duch.

At that sad stop, my lord, into
Where rude misgovern'd hands, from windows For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day.

York. Bound to himself? what doth he with a
Throw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. bond
York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Boling. That he is bound to ? Wife, thou art a fool.-
broke, -

Boy, let me see the writing.
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,

Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,

not show it.

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son ?

York. I will be satisfied ; let me see it, I say. And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford

Snatches it, and reads. Boling. And what said the gallant ? Treason I foul treason ! -villain! traitor! slave! Percy. His answer was,-he would unto the Duch. What is the matter, my lord ?

York. Ho! who is within there ? (Enter a Ser And from the commonest creature pluck a glove,
vant. ) Saddle my horse.

And wear it as a favour; and with that
God for his mercy! what treachery is here ? He would uphorse the lustiest challenger.
Duch. Why, what is it, my lord ?

Boling As dissolute, as desperate : yet, througle
York. Give me my boots, 1 say; saddle my both
horse :-

I see some sparkles of a better hope,
Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, Which elder days may happily bring forth.
I will appeach the villain. Exit Servant. But who comes here?

What's the matter?
York. Peace, foolish woman.

Enter Aumerle, hastily.
Duch. I will not peace :-What's the matter, Aum.

Where is the king?

What means Aum. Good mother, bc content; it is no more Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? Than my poor life must answer.

Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech your Drach.

Thy life answer ? majesty,

To have some conference with your grace alone.
Re-enter Servant, with Boots.

Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us
York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. here alone. - Ereunt Percy and Lords.
Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou What is the matter with our cousin now ?-
art amaz'd:

Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the
Hence, villain ; never more come in my sight. earth,

[Kneels. [ To the Servant. My tongue cleave to the roof within my mouth, York. Give me my boots, I say,

Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak.
Duch. Why, York, whai wilt thou do? Boling. Intended, or committed was this fault?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? If but the first, how heinous e'er it be,
Have we more sons? or are we like to have? To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.
Is not my leeming date drunk up with time? Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the
And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,

And rob me of a mother's happy name? That no man enter till my tale be done.
Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?

Boling. Have thy desire. (Aum. locks the door. York. Thou fond mad woman,

York. Within.) My liege, beware; look to Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy ?

thy self;
A dozen of them here have ta’en the sacrament, Thon hast a traitor in thy presence there.
And interchangeably set down their hands, Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe. (Drawing
To kill the king at Oxford.

Auin. Stay thy revengeful hand;

He shall be none; 1 Thou hast no cause to fear.
We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him · York. [Within.] Open the door, secure, fool
York. Away,

hardy king : Fond woman I were he twenty times my son, Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face ? I would appeach him.

Open the door, or I will break it open.
Hadst thou groan'd for him,

[Bolingbroke opens the door. As I have done, thou’dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect,

Enter York. That I have been disloyal to thy bed,

Boling. What is the matter, uncle? speak And that he is a bastard, not thy son:

Recover breath; tell ns how near is danger, Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind; That we may arm us to encounter it. He is as like thee as a man may be,

York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt Not like to me, or any of my kin,

know And yet I love him.

The treason that my haste forbids me show.
York. Make way, unruly woman. [Erit. Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise
Duch. After, Atmerle : mount thee upon his past :
horse ;

I do repent me; read not my name there,
Spur, post; and get before him to the king, My heart is not confederate with my hand.
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it
I'll not be long behind ; though I be old,

down.I doubt not but to ride as fast as York:

I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king : And never will l rise up from the ground, Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee : Away ; Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove Begone.

[Ereunt. A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. SCENE III.

Boling. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiWindsor. A Room in the Custle

racy Enter Bolingbroke, as King ; Percy, and other loyal father of a treacherous son! Lords.

Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain,

From whence this stream through muddy pasBoling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?

sages, "Tis full three months since I did see him last :

-Hath held his current and defil'd himself! If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.

Thy overflow of good converts to bad; I would to God, my lords, he might be found : And thy abundant goodness shall excuse Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, This deadly blot in thy digressing son. For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; With unrestrained loose companions ;

And he shall spend mine honour with his shame, Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, As thriftless sons their scraping father's gold. And beat our watch, and rob our passengers; Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy, Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies: Takes on the point of honour, to support Thou killist me in his life; giving him breath, So dissolute a crew.

The traitor lives, the true man's put to death Percy: My lord, some two days since I saw. Duch. [Within.) What ho, my liege! for God's the prince ;

sake, let me in.

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Boling: What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes But makes one pardon strong: this eager cry?


With all my heart
Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; I pardon him.
'tis I.

Duch. A god on earth thou art.
Speak with me, pity me, open the door; Boling. But for oar trusty brother-in-law, and
A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.

the abbot,
Boling: Our scene is alter'd, -from a serious with all the rest of that consorted crew,-.

Destruction straight shall dog them at the
And now chang'd to The Beggar and the heels.

Good uncle, help to order several powers
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in; To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are:
I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin. They shall not live within this world, I swear,
York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,

But I will have them, if I once know where.
More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may,

Uncle, farewell, -and, cousin, too, adieu :
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound, Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you
This, let alone, will all the rest confound.


Duch. Come, my old son ;-I pray God, make
Enter Duchess.

thee new

[Exeunt. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted

SCENE IV. man; Love, loving not itself, none other can.

Enter Exton, and a Servant. York. Thou frantick woman, what dost thou Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what make here?

words he spake?. Shall thy old dags once more a traitor rear ? Have I no friend will rid me of this living Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gen fear? tle liege.

(Kneels. Was it not so ? Boling. Rise up, good aunt.


Those were his very words. Duch

Not yet, I thee beseech : Exton. Have I no friend ? quoth be; he spake For ever will I kneel upon my knees,

it twice, And never see day that the happy sees, And urg'd it twice together; did he not? Till thou give joy ; until thou bid me joy, Serv. He did. By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Exton And, speaking it, he wistfully look'd Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, 1 bend my on me; knee.

[Kneels. As who should say, I would, thou wert the
York. Against them both, my true joints bend-
ed be.

Kneels. That would divorce this terror from my heart;
Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! Meaning the king at Pomfret.. Come, let's go;
Duch. Pleads he in earnest 7 look upon his I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.

[Ereunt. His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in SCENE V. Pomfret. The Dungeon of the jest ;

His words come from his mouth, ours from our

Enter King Richard.
He prays but faintly, and would be denied ; K. Rich. I have been studying how I may
We pray with heart, and soul, and all beside:

His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; This prison, where I live, unto the world.
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they And, for because the world is populous,

And here is not a creature but myself, His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ; I cannot do it;-Yet l'il hammer it out. Ours, of true zeal and deep integrity.

My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have My soul the father: and these two beget That mercy, which true prayers ought to have. A generation of still breeding thoughts, Boling. Good aunt, stand up.

And these same thoughts people this little world;

Nay, do not say--stand up; In humours, like the people of this world,
But, pardon, first; and afterwards stand up. For no thought is contented. The better sort,
An if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd
Pardon-should be the first word of thy speech. With scruples, and do set the word itself
I never long'd to hear a word till now;

Against the word :
Say, pardon, king; let pity teach thee how: As thus, -Come, little ones! and then again,
The word is short, but not so short as sweet; It is as hard to come, as for a camel
No word like pardon, for kings' mouths so To thread the postern of a needle's eye.

Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot York. Speak it in French, king; say, Par- Unlikely wonders: how these vain weak nails donnez moy.

May tear a passage through the flinty ribs Duch. Dost thon teach pardon parilon to de- of this hard world, my ragged prison walls; stroy?

And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
Ah, my sour husbaud, my hard-hearted lord,

Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,
That sett'st the word itself againt the word - That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
Speak, pardon, as 'us current in our land : Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars,
The chopping French we do not understand. Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,
Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there; That many have, and others must sit there :
Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
That, hearing how our plaints and prayers do Bearing their own misfortune on their back'

Of such as have before endured the like:
Pity may move thee, pardon to rehearse. Thus play I, in one person, many people,
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.

01 not sue to stand, then treason makes me wish myself a beggar, Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.

And so I am : Then crushing pemury.
Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. Persuades me, I was better when a king;
Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee! Then am I king'd again: and, by-and-by,
Yet I am sick for fear: speak it again; Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain, And straight am nothing :-But whate'er I am,

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