Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern caftles yielded up,
And all your fouthern gentlemen in arms
Upon his faction.
K. Rich. Thou haft faid enough.
Befhrew thee, Coufin, which didft lead me forth [To Aumerle.
Of that fweet way I was in to Despair.
What fay you now? what comfort have we now?
By heav'n, I'll hate him everlastingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Go to Flint-caftle, there I'll pine away:
A King, woe's flave, fhall kingly woe obey:
That Pow'r I have, difcharge; and let 'em go
To ear the land, that hath fome hope to grow:
For I have none. Let no man fpeak again
To alter this, for counfel is but vain.
Aum. My Liege, one word.
K. Rich. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatt'ries of his tongue.
Difcharge my Foll'wers: let them hence, away,
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
[Exeunt. SCENE, Bolingbroke's Camp, near Flint.
Enter with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York,
Northumberland, and Attendants.
Boling. O that by this intelligence we learn,
The Welshmen are difpers'd; and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
With fome few private friends upon this Coast.
North. The news is very fair and good, my lord,
Richard, not far from hence, hath hid his head.
York. It would beseem the lord Northumberland,
To fay, King Richard. Ah, the heavy day,
When fuch a facred King fhould hide his head!
North. Your Grace mistakes me; only to be brief,
Left I his Title out.
York. The time hath been,
Would you have been fo brief with him, he would
Have been fo brief with You, to fhorten You,
For taking fo the Head, the whole Head's Length.
Boling. Miftake not, uncle, farther than you should.
York. Take not, good coufin, farther than you should,
Left you mistake, the heav'ns are o'er your head.
Boling I know it, uncle, nor oppose my self
Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter Percy.
Welcome, Harry; what, will not this caftle yield?
Percy. The caftle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against your entrance.
Boling. Royally? why, it contains no King?
Percy. Yes, my good lord,
It doth contain a King: King Richard lies
Within the limits of yond lime and stone;
And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop, befides a clergy man
Of holy reverence: who, I cannot learn.
North. Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.
Boling. Noble lord,
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle,
Through brazen trumpet fend the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry of Bolingbroke upon his knees
Doth kifs King Richard's hand, and fends allegiance
And faith of heart unto his royal perfon:
Ev'n at his feet I lay my arms and pow'r,
Provided, that my banishment repeal'd,
And lands reftor'd again, be freely granted:
If not, I'll ufe th' advantage of my pow'r,
And lay the fummer's duft with fhow'rs of blood,
Rain'd from the wounds of flaughter'd Englishmen.
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, fuch crimson tempeft fhould bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's Land,
My stooping duty tenderly fhall fhew.
Go fignifie as much, while here we march
Upon the graffie carpet of this Plain;
Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
That from this Castle's tatter'd battlements
Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, King Richard and my self should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring Shock,
At meeting, tears the cloudy cheeks of heav'n:
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
Parle without, and anfier within; then a flourish. Enter, on the walls, King Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop and Salisbury.
See! fee! King Richard doth himself
As doth the blufhing difcontented Sun,
From out the fiery portal of the East,
When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent
To dim his Glory; and to ftain the tract
Of his bright paffage to the Occident.
York. Yet looks he like a King: behold his eye, As bright as is the Eagle's, lightens forth
Controling Majefty; alack, for woe,
That any harm should stain fo fair a fhow!
K. Rich. We are amaz'd, and thus long have we ftood
To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To North.
Because we thought our felf thy lawful King;
And, if we be, how dare thy joints forget
To pay their awful duty to our presence?
If we be not, fhew us the hand of God,
That hath difmifs'd us from our Stewardship.
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
Can gripe the facred handle of our Scepter,
Unless he do prophane, fteal, or ufurp.
And though you think, that all, as you have done,
Have torn their fouls, by turning them from us,
And we are barren, and bereft of friends:
Yet know, My Mafter, God omnipotent,
Is muft'ring in his clouds on our behalf
Armies of Peftilence; and they shall strike
Your children yet unborn, and unbegot,
That lift your vaffal hands againft my head,
And threat the Glory of my precious Crown.
Tell Bolingbroke, (for yond, methinks, he is)
That every ftride he makes upon my Land
Is dangerous treafon. He is come to ope
The purple Teftament of bleeding War;
But ere the Crown, he looks for, live in peace, (8)
Ten thoufand bloody crowns of mothers' fons
Shall ill become the flow'r of England's face;
Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To fcarlet indignation; and bedew
Her Pafture's grafs with faithful English blood.
North. The King of heav'n forbid, our lord the
King
Should fo with civil and uncivil arms
Be rufh'd upon! no, thy thrice-noble coufin,
Harry of Bolingbroke, doth kifs thy hand,
And by the honourable tomb he fwears,
That ftands upon your royal grandfire's bones,
And by the Royalties of both your bloods,
(8) But e'er the Crown, he looks for, live in Peace,
Ten thousand bloody Crowns of Mothers' Sons
Sball ill become the Flow'r of England's face ;] Tho' I have not difturb'd the Text here, I cannot but think it liable to Sufpicion. A Crown living in Peace, as Mr. Warburton justly obferv'd to me, is a very odd Phrafe. He supposes;
But e're the Crown, be looks for, light in Peace,
i. e. defcend and fettle upon Bolingbroke's Head in Peace.Again, I have a fmall Quarrel to the third Line quoted. Would the Poet fay, That bloody Crowns fhould disfigure the Flow'rs that fpring on the Ground, and bedew the Grafs with Blood? Surely, the two Images are too fimilar. I have fufpected,
Shall ill become the Floor of England's Face. i. e. Shall make a dismal Spectacle on the Surface of the Kingdom's Earth,
(Currents, that fpring from one moft gracious head)
And by the bury'd hand of warlike Gaunt,
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprifing all that may be fworn, or faid,
His Coming hither hath no farther scope,
Than for his lineal Royalties, and to beg
Infranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glitt'ring arms he will commend to ruft ;
His barbed steeds to ftables; and his heart
To faithful fervice of your Majefty.
This fwears he, as he is a Prince, is juft;
And as I am a Gentleman, I credit him.
K. Rich. Northumberland, fay, thus the King re
His noble Coufin is right-welcome hither,
And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction.
With all the gracious utterance thou haft,
Speak to his gentle Hearing kind Commends.
We do debase our felf, Coufin, do we not,
To look fo poorly, and to fpeak fo fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and fend
Defiance to the traitor, and fo die?
Aum. No, good my lord, let's fight with gentle words,
Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful fwords. K. Rich. Oh God, oh God! that e'er this tongue of
That laid the Sentence of dread Banishment
On yond proud man, fhould take it off again
With words of Sooth; oh, that I were as great
As is my grief, or leffer than my name!
Or that I could forget what I have been,
Or not remember what I must be now!
Swell'ft thou, proud heart? I'll give thee fcope to beat, Since foes have fcope to beat both thee and me.
Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. K. Rich. What muft the King do now? muit he
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