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of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou darst.

Carl. Marry, God forbid !-
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off, Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
And never brandish more revengeful steel

Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
Over the glittering helmet of my foc!

Would God, that any in this noble presence Lord. I take the earth to the like, forsworn Aum- || Were enough noble to be upright judge erle;

Of noble Richard ; then true nobless would And spur thee on with full as many lies

Learn him forbearance fiom so foul a wrong. As may be holla’d in thy treacherous ear

What subject can give sentence on his king? From sun to sun : there is my honour's pawn; And who sits here, that is not Richard's subject? Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.

Thieves are not judg'd, but they are by to hear, Aum. Who sets me else? by hearen, I'll throw at all: Although apparent guilt be seen in them: I have a thousand spirits in one breast,

And shall the figure of God's majesty,
To answer twenty thousand such as you.

His captain, steward, deputy eleet,
Sur. My lord Fitzwater, I do remember well Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
The very time dumerle and you did talk.

Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath,
Fitz. My lord, 'tis true : you were in presence then; || And he himself not present? 0, forbid it, God!
And you can witness with me, this is true.

That, in a Christian climate, souls refin'd Sur. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true. Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! Fitz. Surrey, thou liest.

I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Dishonourable boy! Stirr'd up by heaven thus boldly for his king. That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword,

My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, That it shall render vengeance and revenge, Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king : Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie

And if you crown him, let me prophecy,In earth as quiet as thy father's skull.

The blood of English shall manure the ground,
In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn ; And future ages groan for this foul act ;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.

Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse ! And, in this seat of peace, tumultuous wars
If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,

Shall kin with kin, and kind with kind confound; I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,

Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny,
And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies,

Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith, The field of Golgotha, and dead men's sculls.
To tie thee to my strong correction.-

o, if you rear this house against this house, As I intend to thrive in this new world,

It will the woefullest division prove, Aamerle is guilty of my true appeal :

That ever fell upon this cursed earth: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say,

Prevent, resist it, let it not be so, That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men Lest child, child's children, cry against you-woe! To execute the noble duke at Calais.

North. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage, pains, That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, Of capital treason we arrest you here ;If he may be repeald to try his honour.

My lord of Westminster, be it your charge Bol. These differences shall all rest under gage, To keep him safely till his day of trial.Til Norfolk be repeal’d: repeal'd he shall be, May't please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit. And, though inine enemy, restor'd again

Bol. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view To all his land and signories ; when he's return d, He may surrender; so we shall proceed Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.

Without suspicion. Carl. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen. York.

I will be his conduct. [Exit. Hany a time hath banisb'd Norfolk fought

Bol. Lords, you that are here, under our arrest, For Jesu Christ; in glorious Christian field

Procure your sureties for your days of answer :Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross,

Little are we beholden to your love, [To Carlisle. Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens ; And little look for at your helping hands. And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave

Re-enter York, with King Richard, and Officers bear. Pis body to that pleasant country's earth,

ing the Crown, óc. And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,

K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Under whose colours he had fought so long.

Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Bal. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?

Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd Carl. As sure as I live, my lord

To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee:Bal. Sweet peace crodact his sweet soul to the bosom

Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me Of good old Abraham ! Loris appellants,

To this submission. Yet I well remember Your differences shall all rest under gage,

The favours of these men : Were they not mine? Till we assigu you to your days of trial.

Did they not sometime cry, all hail! to me?

So Judas did to Christ; but he, in twelve,
Enter York, attended.

Found truth in all, but one; ), in twelve thousand,
Tork. Great duke of Lancaster, I come to thee,
From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul Col sare the king!-Will no man say, amen?
Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields

Am I both priest and clerk ? well then, anen. To the possession of thy royal band :

God save the king! although I be not he; Ascend his throne, descending now from himn.- Aud yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.And long live Henry, of that name the fourth! To do what service am I sent for bither? Bol. Ja God's imme, 11 ascend the regal tarone, Tork. To do that office of thinc owa good willo



Which tired majesty did make thee offer,

K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: The resignation of thy state and crown

And yet salt water blinds them not so much, To Henry Bolingbroke.

But they can see a sort of traitors here. K. Rich. Give me the crown :-Here, cousin, seize || Nay, if I tum mine eyes upon myself, the crowns

I find myself a traitor with the rest : Here, on this side, my hand ; on that side, thine. For I have given here my soul's consent, Now is this golden crown like a deep well,

To undeck the pompous body of a king; That owes two buckets filling one another;

Make glory base; and sovereignty, a slave; The emptier ever dancing in the air,

Proud majesty, a sub ect; state, a peasant. The other down, unseen, and full of water:

North. My lord, That bucket down, and full of tears, am I,

K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught, insulting Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.

man, Bol. I thought you had been willing to resign. Nor no man's lord ; I have no name, no titleK. Rich. My crown, I am ; but still my griefs are No, not that name was given me at the fontmine :

But 'tis usurp'd :- Alack the heavy day, You may my glories and my state depose,

That I have worn so many winters out,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.

And know not now what name to call myself!
Bol. Part of your cares you give me with your crown.o, that I were a mockery king of snow,
K. Rich. Your cares set up, do not pluck my cares Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,

To melt myself away in water drops !
My care is-loss of care, by old care done ;

Good king,–great king,-(and yet not greatly good.)
Your care is-gain of care, by new care won : An if my word be sterling yet in England,
The cares I give, I have, though given away; Let it command a mirror hither straight;
They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. That it may show me what a face I have,

Bol. Are you contented to resign the crown? Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
K. Rich. Ay, no ;-no, ay :—for I must nothing be; Bol. Go some of you and fetch a looking glass
Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.

(Exit an Attendos. Now mark me, how I will undo myself;

North. Road o'er this paper, while the glass doch I give this heavy weight from osťıny bead, And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,

K. Rich. Fiend! thou torment'st me ere I corne to The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;

hell. With mine own tears I wash away my balm,

Bol. Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland. With mine own hands I give away my crown,

North. The commons will not then be satisfied. With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,

K. Rich. They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough With mine own breath release all duteous oaths : Wher. I do see the very book indeed All pomp and majesty I do forswear;

Where all my sins are writ, and that's—mysell. My manors, rents, revenues, I forego ; My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny:

Ro-enteAttendant, with a Glass. God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!

Give me that glass, and therein will I readGod keep all unbroke, are made to thee! No deeper wrinkles yet ? Hath sorrow struck Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd; So many blows upon this face of mine, And thou, with all pleas’d, that hast all achieved ! And made no deeper wounds !-0, flattering glass

, Long may'st thou live in Richard's seat to sit, Like to my followers in prosperity, And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit!

Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face, God save king Henry, unking'd Richard says, That every day under his household mof And send him many years of sunshine days!

Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face What more remains ?

That like the sun, did make beholders wink?
No more, but that you read Was this the face, that fac'd so many follies,

[Offering a paper. And was at last out-lac'd by Bolingbroke?
These accusations, and these grievous crimes, A brittle glory shineth in this face :
Committed by your person, and your followers, As brittle as the glory is the face;
Against the state and profit of this land;

[Dashes the glass against the ground That, by confessing them, the souls of men

For there it is, crack'd in a hundred sliversMay deem that you are worthily depos’d.

Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,K. Rich. Must I do so ? and must I ravel out How soon my sorrow bath destroy'd my face. My weav’d-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, Bol. The shadow of your sorrow hach destroy If thy offences were upon record,

The shadow of your face. Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop,

K. Picha

Say that again. To read a lecture of them? If' thou would'st,

The shadow of my sorrow? Ha ! let's see :There should'st thou find one heinous article, - 'Tis very true, any grief lies all within ; Containing the deposing of a king,

And these external manners of lament And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, - Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, Mark'd with a blot, damp'd in the book of heaven :-|| That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul ; Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me, There lies the substance; and I thank thee, king, Whilst, that my wretchedness doch bait myself, For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates

How to lament the cause. r'u beg one boon, Have here deliverd me to my sour cross,

And then be gone, and trouble you no mort. And water cannot wash away your sis.

Shall I obtain it? North. My lord, despatch ; read o'er these articles. Bole

Name it, fair cousin,


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K. Rich. Fair cousin? Why, I am greater than a Depos'd thine intellect? bath he been in thy heart? king:

The lion, dying, thrusteth forth his paw,
For, when I was a king, my flatterers

And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
Were then but subjects; being now a subject, To be o'er power'd ; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
I have a king here to my fiatterer.

Take thy correction mildly; kiss the rod ;
Being so great, I have no need to beg.

And fawn on rage with base humility, Bel. Yet ask.

Which art a lion, and a king of beasts? K. Rich. And shall I have?

K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed ; if aught but Bol. You shall.

beasts, K. Rich. Then give me leave to go

I had been still a happy king of men. Bal. Whither?

Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France : K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your Think, I am dead ; and that even here thou tak'st, sights.

As from my death-bed, my last living leave. Bol. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.

In winter's tedious nights, sit by the fire K. Rich. O, good! Convey ?-Conveyers are you all, with good old folks ; and let them tell thee tales That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.

Of woeful ages, long ago betid : (Exeunt K. Richard, some Lords, and a Guard.

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief, Bol. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Tell thou the lamentable fall of me, Our coronation : lords, prepare yourselves.

And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
(Exeunt all but the Abbot, Bishop of Carlisle, and For why, the senseless brands will sympathize

Aumerle. | The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
Abbet. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
Carl. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.

For the deposing of a rightful king.
Atom. You holy clergyinen, is there no plot

Enter Northumberland, attended.
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot ?
Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein,

North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd : You shall not only take the sacrament

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.To bury mine intents, but to effect

And, madam, there is order ta'en for you ; Whatever I shall happen to devise :

With all swift speed you must away to France. I see your brows are full of discontent,

K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal Your bearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears ;

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,Corne home with me to supper; I will lay

The time shall not be many hours of age
A plot, shall show us all a merry day. [E.reunt.

More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption : Thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realın, and give thee hall,

It is too little, helping him to all;

Aud he shall think, that thou, which know'st the way SCENE I.-London. A Street leading to the Tower.

To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,

Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
Enter Queen and Ladies.

To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.

The love of wicked friends converts to fear; THIS way the king will come; this is the way That fear, to hate; and hate turns one, or both, To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower,

To worthy danger, and deserved death. To whose flint bosom my condemned lord

North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end, Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke:

Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith. Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth

K. Rich. Doubly divorc'd ?-Bad inen, ye violate Have any resting for her true king's queen.

A twofold marriage ; 'twixt my crown and me; Enter King Richard and Guards. And then, betwixt me and my married wife.But soft, but see, or rather do not see,

Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me; My fair rose wither: Yet look up;


And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. That you in pity may dissolve to dew,

-Part us, Northumberland ; I towards the north, And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.

Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime; Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand ; My wife to France; from whence, set forth in pomp, Thou map of honour; thou king Richard's tomb, She came adorned hither like sweet May, And not king Richard ; thou most beauteous inn, Sent back like Hallowmas, or short'st of day. Why should hard-favou'd grief be lodg‘d in thee, Queen. And must we be divided ? must we part? When triumph is become an ale-house guest ?

K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so,

from heart. To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul,

Queen. Banish us both, and send the king with me. To think our foriner state a happy dream ;

North. That were some love, but little policy. Frong wlich awak d, the truth of what we are

Queen. Then, whither he goes, thither let me go. Shows us but this: I am sworu brother, sweet,

K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one woe. To grim necessity; and he and I

Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here; Will keep a lengue till death. Hie thee to France, Better far oft, than-near, be ne'er the near'. And eksister thee in some religious house :

Go, count thy way with sighs ; I, inine with groans. Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,

Queen. So longest way shall have the longest moans. Which our profane hours here have stricken down. K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll grban, the way be Queen. What is my Richard both in shape and mind ing short, Transforma'd, and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke And piece the way out with a heavy hearts

som ?

Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,

What news froda Oxford ? hold those justs and triSince, wedding it, there is such length in grief.

umphs ? One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do. Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart.

York. You will be there, I know.

[They kiss. Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. Queen. Give me mire own again ; 'twere no good York. What real is that, that hangs without thy bo

part, To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart. (Kiss again. Yen, look'st thou pale ? let me see the writing. So, now I have mine own again, be gone,

Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing. That I may strive to kill it with a groan.

York. No matter then who sees it: K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond delay: I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. Once more, adieu ; the rest let sorrow say. (Exeunt. Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon ine;

It is a matter of small consequence, scene 11.-The same. A Room in the Duke of || Which for some reasons I would not have seen. York's Palace. Enter York, and his Duchess.

York. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. Duch. My lord, you told me, you would tell the rest, | I fear, I fear,When weeping made you break the story off

Duch. What should you fear? Of our two cousins coming into London.

'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd into York. Where did I leave?

For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day, Duch.

At that sad stop, my lord, York. Bound to himself? what doth be with a bond Where rude misgovern'd hands, from windows' tops, That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head.

Boy, let me see the writing. York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke, Aun. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not -Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,

show it. Which his aspiring rider seemd to know,

York. I will be satisfied ; let me see it, I say. With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course,

[Snatches it, and reads. While all tongues cried-God save thee, Bolingbroke! || Treason! foul treason !-villain! traitor! slave ! You would have thought the very windows spake, Duch. What is the matter, my lord ? So many greedy looks of young and old

York. Ho! who's within there? (Enter a Serrant.) Through casements darted their desiring eyes

Saddle my horse Upon bis visage; and that all the walls,

God for his mercy! what treachery is bere! With painted imagery, had said at once,

Duch. Why, what is it, my lord ? Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!

York. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse:Whilst he, from one side to the other turning, Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, I will appeach the villain.

[Exit Servani. Bespake them thus, -I thank you, countrymen:

Duch. What's the matter? And thus still doing, thus be pass'd along.

York. Peace, foolish womani. Duch. Alas, poor Richard ! where rides he the Duch. I will not peace :- What is the matter, son? while ?

Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more tras York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,

My poor life must answer. After a well grac'd actor leaves the stage,


Thy life answer! Are idly bent on him that enters next,

Roenter Servant, with boots. Thinking his prattle to be tedious:

York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes

Duch. Strike him, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou art 2 Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him;

maz'd :No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:

Hence, villain ; never more come in my sightBut dust was thrown upon his sacred head ;

[To the Servant Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,–

York. Give me my boots, I say, His face still combating with tears and smiles,

Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? The badges of his grief and patience -

Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd

Have we more sons ? or are we like to have ? The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,

Is not my teeming date drunk up with time? And barbarism itself have pitied him.

And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine ags, But heaven hath a hand in these events;

And rob me of a happy mother's name? To whose high will we bound our calm contents.

Is he not like thee? Is he not thine own? To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,

York. Thou fond mad woman,
Whose state and honour I for aye allow.

Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
Enter Aumerle.

A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle.

And interchangeably set down their hands, York.

Aurnerle that was ; To kill the king at Oxford. But that is lost, for being Richard's friend,


He shall be none; And, madarn, you must call him Rutland now: We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him? I am in parliament pledg’d for his truth,

Tork, Away,
And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

Fond woman! were he twenty times my son,
Duch. Welcome, my son : Who are the violets now I would appeach him.
That strew the green lap of the new-come spring ?


Hadst thou groand for him, Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I gready care not : As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. God knows, I had as lief be none, as one.

But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspeet, York. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, | That I have been disloyal to thy bed, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. And that he is a basland, not thy son:

Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind : Open the door, or I will break it open.
He is as like thee as a man may be,

(Bolingbroke opens the door, Not like to me, or any of my kin,

Enter York.
And yet I love him.

Bol. What is the matter, uncle ? speak;
Make way, unruly woman.


Recover breach ; tell us how near is danger, Duch.A fter, Aumerle ; mount thee upon his horse;

That we may arm us to encounter it.

Fork. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know Spur, post; and get before him to the king.

The treason that my haste forbids me show. And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.

Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise past: I'll not be long behind ; though I be old, I doubt not but to ride as fast as York:

I do repent me; read not my name there,

My heart is not confederate with my hand. And never will I rise up from the ground,

York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it down... Till Bolingbroke bave pardoned thee: Away;

I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king ; Begone.


Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: SCENE III.-Windsor. A Room in the Castle. En- || Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove ter Bolingbroke, as King ; Percy, and other Lords. A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.

Bol. O heinous, strong, and bold conspiracy !Bol. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son?

O loyal father of a treacherous son! 'Tis full three months, since I did see him last:

Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain, If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.

From whence this stream through muddy passages I would to God, my lords, he might be found:

Hath held his current, and defild himself! Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,

Thy overflow of good converts to bad; For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,

And thy abundant goodness shall excuse With unrestrained loose companions;

This deadly blot in thy digressing son. Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,

York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd ; And beat our watch, and rob our passengers ; And he shall spend mine bonour with his shame, While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy,

As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. Takes on the point of honour, to support

Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, So dissolute a crew.

Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies: Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the

Thou kill'st me in his life ; giving him breath, prince;

The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford.
Bal. And what said the gallant?

Duch. [Within.] What ho, my liege! for God's sake

let me in. Percy. His answer was.-he would unto the stews ; Bol. What shrill-voic'd suppliant makes this eager And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, And wear it as a favour; and with that He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.

Duch. A woman, and thine aunt, great king; 'tis In

Speak with me, pity me, open the door; Bol. As dissolute, as desperate: yet, through both

A beggar begs, that never begg'd before. I see some sparkles of a better hope,

Bol. Our scene is alter'd-from a serious thing, Which elder days may happily bring forth.

And now chang'd to The Beggar and the King.But who comes here?

My dangerous cousin, let your mother in;
Enter Anmerle hastily.

I know, she's come to pray for your foul sin.
Where is the king ?

York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,

What means

More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may. Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly?

This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound; Aun. God save your grace. I do beseech your ma This, let alone, will all the rest confound.

Enter Duchess. To have some conference with your grace alone. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted man; Bol. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. || Love, loving not itself, none other can. [Excunt Perry and Lords.

York. Thou frantio woman, what dost thou make -What is the matter with our cousin now?

here? Aum. Forever may my knees grow to the earth, Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?

[Kneels. Duch. Sweet York, be patient: Hear me, gentle My tongue elave to my roof within my mouth,


[Kneels. Unless a pardon, ere I rise, or speak.

Bol. Rise up, good aunt. Bol. Intended, or committed, was this fauli?


Not yet, I thee beseech : If but the first, how heinous ere it be,

Forever will I kneel upon my knees, To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.

And never see day that the happy sees, Atm. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, || Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy, That no man enter till my tale be done.

By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Bal Hare thy desire. [Aumerle locks the door.

Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my knees York. (Within.] My liege, beware ; look to thyself ;

[Kneels. Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

York. Against them both, my true joints bended be. Bel. Villain, I'll make thee safe. [Drawing.

[K'ncels. Atc. Stay thy revengeful hand;

Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any giace! Thou hast no cause to fear.

Duch. Pleads he in earnest ? look upon his face; York. [Wühin.] Open the door, secure, fool-hardy || His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest ; king:

His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast : Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face?

He prays but faintly, oud would be denied;



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