With many legions of strange fantasies, Which, in their throng and press to that last-hold, Confound themselves. "Tis strange that death should sing. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death, And from the organ-pipe of frailty sings His soul and body to their lasting rest. Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born To set a form upon that indigest Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. 21 Enter Attendants, and BIGOT, carrying KING JOHN in a chair. K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room; It would not out at windows nor at doors. There is so hot a summer in my bosom, That all my bowels crumble up to dust: I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen Upon a parchment, and against this fire Do I shrink up. P. Hen. How fares your majesty? K. John. Poison'd,-ill fare-dead, forsook, cast off: And none of you will bid the winter come To thrust his icy fingers in my maw, Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Through my burn'd bosom, nor entreat the north And comfort me with cold. I do not ask you much, And so ingrateful, you deny me that. P. Hen. O that there were some virtue in my tears, That might relieve you! K. John. The salt in them is hot. Within me is a hell; and there the poison Is as a fiend confined to tyrannize On unreprievable condemned blood. Enter the Bastard. Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion, And spleen of speed to see your majesty! K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: And all the shrouds wherewith my life should sail My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, 80 40 50 And module of confounded royalty. Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward, Where heaven He knows how we shall answer him; As I upon advantage did remove, 60 [The king dies. Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an ear. My liege! my lord! but now a king, now thus. P. Hen. Even so must Irun on, and even so stop. What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, When this was now a king, and now is clay? Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, Now, now, you stars that move in your right spheres, To push destruction and perpetual shame Out of the weak door of our fainting land. Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; 70 80 Sal. It seems you know not, then, so much as we: The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin, Bast. He will the rather do it when he sees Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; For many carriages he hath dispatch'd 90 To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel With whom yourself, myself and other lords, To consummate this business happily. Bast. Let it be so: and you, my noble prince, With other princes that may best be spared, Shall wait upon your father's funeral. P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd; Bast. 100 I do bequeath my faithful services And truc subjection everlastingly. Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, To rest without a spot forever more. P. Hen. I have a kind soul that would give you thanks And knows not how to do it but with tears. Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful woe, Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs. Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, But when it first did help to wound itself. Now these her princes are come home again, And we shall shock them. Nought shall make us rue, 110 [Exeunt. DUKE OF AUMERLE, son to the SIR PIERCE of Exton. Duke of York. THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Nor folk.. DUKE OF SURREY. LORD BERKELEY. EARL OF SALISBURY. BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND. Captain of a band of Welshmen, QUEEN to King Richard. DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER. Lady attending on the Queen. servants to King Richard. Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants. SCENE: England and Wales. ACT I. SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD'S palace. Enter KING RICHARD, JOHN OF GAUNT, with other Nobles and Attendants. K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; Or worthily, as a good subject should, On some known ground of treachery in him? Gaunt. As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger seen in him Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. K. Rich. Then call them to our presence; face to face, Enter BOLINGBROKE and MOWBRAY. K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but flatters us, As well appeareth by the cause you come; Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? 10 20 Boling. First, heaven be the record to my speech! 30 In the devotion of a subject's love, Tendering the precious safety of my prince, With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat; And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move, 40 What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. Mow. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, 50 The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: |