Crowns and Scepters go Before I swim to 'em in Subjects blood The King in pity to his Subjects quits His Right that have no pity for their King Let me be blest with cool Retreat and thee Thou World of Beauty and thou Heav'n of Love To Bullingbrook I yield the Toils of State And may the Crown sit lighter on his Head Than e're it did on Richard's Qu. Destiny Is Tyrant over King's Heav'n guard my Lord. King Weep not my Love each Tear thou shedst is Theft For know thou robb'st the great ones of their due Of Pomp divested we shou'd now put off It 's dull Companion Grief Farewel my Love Thy Richard shall return to thee again The King no more Qu. In spight of me my sorrow In sad Prophetic Language do's reply Nor Richard nor the King Exeunt severally SCENE the Parliament Bullingbrook Northumb. Piercie York Aumarle Carlile with other Nobles and Officers making a full House North. Great Duke of Lancaster I come to thee From Richard who with free and willing Soul Adopts thee Heir and his high Scepter yields To the possession of thy Royal Hand Ascend his Throne descending now from him And long live Henry of that Name the Fourth Bull. Richard Consents and Lords I have your Voices In Heav'ns Name therefore I ascend the Throne Carl. No hasty Bullingbrook in Heav'ns Name stay Tho' meanest of this Presence yet I 'll speak A Truth that do's beseem me best to speak And wou'd to God the noblest of this presence Were enuff noble to be Richard's Judge What subject can give sentence on his King And who sits here that is not Richard's Subject Theeves are not judg'd but they are by to hear Th' indictment read and Answer to their Charge And shall the Figure of Heav'ns Majesty His Captain Steward Deputy Elect Anointed Crown'd and planted many years Be judg'd by Subject and inferiour Breath And he not present o' forbid it God! That in a Christian Climate Souls refin'd Shou'd Plot so heinous black obscene a deed I speak to Subjects and a Subject speaks Stir'd up by Heaven thus boldly for his King York Now by my Life I thank thee honest Prelate My Lords what say ye to the Bishops Doctrine Is' t not Heavenly true you know it is Nor can ev'n graceless Herford's self gain say 't Carl. My Lord of Hereford here whom you call King Is a foul Traytor to proud Herford's King And if you Crown him let me prophesie The blood of English shall manure the Land And future Ages groan for this foul Deed And if you rear this House against its self It will the wofullest Division prove That ever yet befell this guilty Earth Prevent resist it stop this breach in Time Lest Childrens Children curse you for this Crime North. Well have you argu'd Sir and for your pains Of Capital Treason we Arrest you here My Lord of Westminster be it your care To keep him safely till his Day of Tryal Wil 't please you Lords to grant the Common's Suit York First let me move and yield some Knave a Seat Bull. Bring hither Richard that in open view He may surrender so shall we proceed Without suspition King Richard brought in King Alack why am I sent for to the King Before I have shook off the Regal thoughts With which I Reign'd as yet I have not learnt T' insinuate flatter bow and bend the Knee Give sorrow leave a while to tutor me To this submission Yet I well remember The favours these Men were they not mine To do what service am I sent for hither North. To do that Office of your own good will Which weary'd Majesty did prompt thee to The Resignation of thy Crown and State To Henry Bullingbrook King My own good Will Yes Heav'n and you know with what sort of Will You say it is my Will why be it so Give me the Crown come Cousin seize the Crown Upon this side my Hand on that side thine Now is this Crown a Well wherein two Vessels That in successive Motion rise and fall The emptier ever dancing in the Air Th' opprest one down unseen and sunk that Vessel Dejected prest and full of Tears am I Drinking my Griefs whilst Herford mounts on high Bull. I thought you had been willing to Resign King My Crown I am but still my Griefs are mine Bull. Are you contented to Resign or no King Yes No yet let it pass From off my Head I give this heavy weight And this unwieldy Scepter from my Hand So with my Tears I wash my Balm away With my own breath release all duteous Oaths My Pomp and Majesty for ever quit My mannors Rents Revenues I forego My Acts Decrees and Statutes I repeal Heav'n pardon all Oaths that are broke to me Heav'n keep unbroke all Vows are made to thee Make me that nothing have to covet nought And thee possest of all that all hast sought What more remains North. No more but that you read This Bill of Accusations charg'd upon your Crimes King Distraction made my own accuser too To read a bead-roll of my own defaults Read it my self by piece-meal to unrauel My weav'd-up follies why Northumberland If thy Offences were upon Record Wou'd it not shame thee in so full a Presence To read a Lecture of ' em if thou shou'dst There wou'dst thou find one heynous Article Containing the deposing of a King And cracking the strong warrant of an Oath Markt with a blot damn'd in the book of Heav'n Nay all of you that stand and look upon me Waiting to see my Misery bait it self Like Pilates have betray'd me to my Cross And water cannot wash away your sin North. My Lord dispatch read ore the Articles King My Eyes are full of Tears I cannot see North. My Lord King No Lord of thine thou false insulting Man Nor no Man's Lord I have no Name no Title Let me Command a Mirrour hither streight That it may shew me what a Face I have Since stript and Bankrupt of it's Majesty Bul. Fetch him a Glass North. In the mean time read o're this Paper King Hell for a Charm to lay This foul Tormenting Fiend Bul. Urge it no more Northumberland Nor. The Commons Sir will not be satisfi'd Unless he Read Confess and Sign it too King They shall be satisfi'd I 'le Read enuff When I shall see the very Book indeed Where all my faults are writ and that 's my Self Give me that Mirrour Views himself in the Glass No deeper wrinkles yet has Sorrow struck So many many blows upon these Cheeks and made No deeper wounds O' flattring Instrument Like to my followers in prosperity So shall just Fate dash them as I dash thee Breaks it So Pomp and Fals-hood ends I 'll beg one Boon Then take my leave and trouble you no more Shall I obtain it Bul. Name it fair Cousin King Fair Cousin I am greater than a King For when I was a King my Flatterers Were then but Subjects being
I know thy virtue will undoe thee Thou wilt be still a faithful constant Wife Feel all my Wrongs and suffer in my Fall There is the sting and venom of my Fate When I shall think that I have ruin'd Thee Queen I ask no more my Lord at Fortunes hands Then priviledge to suffer for your sake Who wou'd not share your Grief to share your Love This Kingdom yet which once you did prefer To the worlds sway this Beauty and this Heart Is Richards still millions of Loyal thoughts Are always waiting there to pay you homage That glorious Empire yields to you alone No Bullingbrook can chase you from that Throne King We 'll march no farther lead to th' Castle here Exeunt SCENE the Fourth A Castle Flourish Enter Bullingbrook York Northumberland Piercy Willoughby c. North. The News is very fair and good My Lord Richard within this Fort has hid his head York It would become the Lord Northumberland To say King Richard that so good a King Should be compell'd to hide a sacred Head And Thou have leave to shew a Villains Face Bull. Mistake not Uncle farther then you shou'd York Talk not thou Traytor farther then thou shoud'st Enter Ross. Bull. What say'st thou Ross will not this Castle yield Ross. My Lord the Castle Royally is man'd Against your entrance for the King and Queen But newly are arriv'd and enter'd there With them the Lord Aumerle Lord Salisbury Sir Stephen Scroop besides a Clergy-man Of holy rev'rence whom I cannot learn North. I know him 't is the Bishop of Carlile Bull. Go Northumberland through the ribs of this Castle With brazen Trumpets sound the breath of Parle Say thus that Bullingbrook upon his knees Kisses King Richards hands with true allegiance And that with thoughts of Peace he 's hither come Ev'n at his feet to lay his Arms and Pow'r Provided his Revenues be restor'd His Banishment repeal'd let this be granted Or else he 'l use th' advantage of his Power And lay the Summers Dust with show'rs of Blood Enter King above Aumerle Carlile c. But see where on the walls he do's appear As do's the blushing discontented Sun When envious Clouds combine to shade his Glory York O my dear Liege Heav'n guard your Majesty 'Fore Heav'n my old heart leaps at sight of you Think not that falsly I gave up your Pow'r If any Villain of 'em dares to say it I 'le call that Villain Lyar to his teeth He is a Rogue tho' it be Bullingbrook Lo here I kneel and pay thee Homage as a true Subject shou'd before the Rebels Faces King Rise York I know thy truth and pity thee We are amaz'd and thus long have we stood To watch the fearful bending of his knee Because We thought Our Self his lawful King Tell Bullingbrook for yond' methinks is he That every stride he makes upon Our Land Is dangerous Treason He is come t' unfold The purple Testament of bleeding War But e're the Crown he seeks shall bind his Brow A thousand Orphan'd Widowed Mothers Tears Shall wash from Earth their Sons and Husbands Blood North. Heaven forbid our Lord the King Shou'd thus with civil Arms be rusht upon Lord Bullingbrook does humbly kiss your Hand And swears his coming hither has no other scope Then to demand his Royalties and beg Enfrancisement from Exile grant but this His Glitt'ring Arms he will commend to Rust. King Northumberland say thus The King complies With his Demands and so commend us to him We do debase Our Self Cousin do we not To look so peaceful and to speak so fair Shall we call back Northumberland and send Defiance to the Traytor 's Heart and Die Aum. No good my Lord let 's fight with gentle words Till time lend Friends and Friends their conquering Swords King That ere this power-chang'd Tongue That laid the Sentence of dread Banishment On yond proud Man shou'd take it off agen O that I were as great As is my Grief or lesser than my Name That I could quite forget what I have been Or not remember what I must be now Aum. Northumberland comes back from Bullingbrook King What must the King do now Must he forgo The Name of King O'God's Name let it pass I 'll give my Jewels for a set of Beads My gilded Palace for a Hermitage My Robes of Empire for an Alms-man's Gown My figur'd Goblets for a Dish of Wood My Scepter for an humble Palmers Staff My Subjects for a pair of Poor Carv'd Saints And my large Kingdom for a little Grave A little very little obscure Grave Aumarle Thou weep'st my tender hearted Cousin Wee 'l joyn our Royal with thy Loyal Tears Our sighs and they shall lodge the Summer Corn And make a Dearth in this revolting Land North. My Lord he thanks your Highness and begs leave To speak with you Sir please you to come down Hee 'll wait your Majesty i th' Court below King Down down I come like Blazing Phaeton Wanting the Menage of unruly Steeds Down pomp down swelling stubborn Heart down King For Night-Owls shrick where Mounting Larks should sing Exeunt from above Re-enter Bullingbrook and his Company in the Court. Bul Northumberland to London with all speed Summon a Parliament i' th' Commons Name In Order to the Kings Appearance there Enter King attended But see his Highness comes stand all apart And shew sair Duty to his Majesty York runs over to the King kneels and kisses his Hand York Now left the Rebels seize me if they can For here I 'll perish by my Sovereign's side King Fy Cousin you debase your princely Knee And make our Earth too proud with Kissing it Methinks my Heart had rather feel your Love Then thus in Eye behold the Courtesie Up Cousen up Your Heart is up I know Bul. My gracious Lord I come but for my own King And to that Title who must set the Bounds Bul. Nor even to that do I lay farther claim Than my true Service shall deserve your Love King Well you deserve they best deserve to have That know the strongest surest way to get But Heav'n rules all good Uncle dry your Tears Cousin I am to young to be your Father Tho' you are Old enuff to be my Heir Methinks one Person 's wanting yet To this fair Presence our Old Loyal Gaunt He was thy Father Herford was he not Excuse me Cousin Tears but ill become A King at least when Friends and Kinsmen meet And yet I cannot chuse but weep to think That whilst you press and I permit this Scorn What Plagues we heap on Children yet unborn Exeunt ACT IV. Enter York Aumarle in their Parliament Robes Two Messengers from Bullingbrook York TUt tut tut tell not me of Patience 't is a Load a Burden that Knaves will never cease to lay on whilst Asses will carry it nothing but Villany in this versal World and nothing plagues me but that I can't turn Villain too to be Reveng'd Aum. Persidious Bullingbrook
I bend my Knee York Against 'em Both my Old stiff Joynts I bend Dutch Pleads he in Earnest see his Eyes are dry His Pray'rs come from his Mouth ours from the Heart He beggs but faintly and wou'd be deny'd His weary Joynts wou'd gladly rise I know Our Knees shall bend till to the Earth they grow Deny him King he kneels in pain to crave A Boon that wou'd dismiss him to the Grave Granting his Suit the Suer you destroy But yielding ours you give your Beggar 's Joy Bull. Good Madam rise up Dutch Nay do not say rise up But pardon first and then we rise indeed The word is short but endless Comfort brings Pardon the Language both of Heav'n and Kings Bull. I pardon him as Heav'n shall pardon me Dutch Aum. Thanks Gracious Liege a God on Earth thou art York So much for that one word at parting King Let me tell thee King 't was none of these Politicks that made thee King and so farewell to Court Exit Bull. But for the Rest of this Consorted Crew Our Justice shall o're-take 'em injur'd Richard Thy wrongs already are too deep reveng'd As yet the Crown 's scarce settled to my Brow When Royal Cares are rooted in my Heart Have I no Friend my Lords in this fair Train No Friend that to his Monarch's Peace will clear The Way and ridd me of this Living Fear Exit SCENE A Prison King Richard Solus Rich. I Have bin studying how to compare This lonesom Prison to the populous World The Paradox seems hard but thus I 'll prove it I 'll call my Bâ—ain the Female to my Soul My Soul the Father and these Two beget A Generation of succeeding Thoughts Th' Inhabitants that stock this little World In humours like the People of the World No Thought Contented for the better sort As Thoughts of things Divine are mixt with doubts That set the Faith it self against the Faith Thoughts tending to Ambition they are plotting Unlikely Wonders how these poor weak Hands May force a passage through these stubborn flints And cause they cannot Die in their own Pride Thoughts tending to Content are whispring to me That I am not the first of Fortunes Slaves And shall not be the Last poor flatt'ring Comfort Thus I and every other Son of Earth With nothing shall be pleas'd till we be eas'd With being nothing A Table and Provisions shewn What mean my Goalers by that plenteous Board For three days past I 've fed upon my Sighs And drunk my Tears rest craving Nature rest I 'll humour thy dire Need and tast this food That only serves to make Misfortune Live Going to sit the Table sinks down Thus Tantalus they say is us'd below But Tantalus his Guilt is then his Torture I smile at this fantastick Cruelty Ha Musick too Ev'n what my Torturers please Song and soft Musick after which a Messenger Enters Mess. Hail Royal Sir with dang'rous difficulty Gives him Letters I 've enter'd here to bear These to your hand O killing Spectacle Rich. From whom my Queen My Isabell my Royal wretched Wife O Sacred Character oh Heav'n-born Saint Why here are words wou'd charm the raging Sea Cure Lunaticks dissolve the Wizzard's Spell Check baleful Planets and make Winter bloom How fares my Angel say what Air 's made rich With her arrival for she breathes the Spring What Land is by her presence priviledged From Heavn's ripe Vengeance O my lab'ring Heart Inn hide Thee and prepare in short to Answer To th'infinite Enquiries that my Love Shall make of this dear Darling of my Soul Whilst undisturb'd I seize the present Minute To answer the Contents of this blest Paper Ex. Mess. Sits down to write Enter Exton and Servants Furies what means this Pageantry of Death Speak thou the foremost Murderer thy own hand Is arm'd with th' Instrument of thy own Slaughter Go Thou and fill a room in Hell Kills 4 of them Another Thou Exton here strikes him down That hand shall burn in never quenching Fire That staggers thus my Person cruel Exton The blackest Fiend shall see thee lodg'd beneath him The Damn'd will shun the Villain whose curst Hand Has with the King's blood stain'd the King's own Land Dies Ext. Hast and convey his Body to our Master Before the very Rumour reach his Ear. As full of Valour as of Royal Blood Both have I spilt O that the Deed were Good Despair already seizes on my Soul Through my dark Brest Eternal Horrours roul Ev'n that false Fiend that told me I did well Cry's now This Deed is Register'd in Hell Ex. SCENE a Palace Bullingbrook Lords and Attendants Bull. Our last Expresses speak the Rebels high Who have consum'd with Fire Our Town of Gloster Enter Northumberland and Pierce Welcome Northumberland what News North. Health to my Liege I have to London sent The Heads of Spencer Blunt and Salsbury Pierc Broccas and Seelye too are headless Trunks The dang'rous Chiefs of that consorted Crew That sought your Life at Oxford Ross. Our Abbot griev'd to see his Plott defeated Has yielded up his Body to the Grave But here 's Carlile yet living to receive Your Royal Doom Bull. Carlile I must confess Thô thou hast ever bin my Enemy Such sparks of Honour always shin'd in Thee As priviledg Thee from our Justice now Choose out some secret place some reverend Cell There live in peace and we shall not disturb The Quiet of thy Death what suddain Damp Congeals my Blood ha Exton then comes Mischief Enter Exton and Servants bearing in a Coffin Ext. Great Sir within this Coffin I present Thy bury'd Fear possess the Crown secure Which breathless Richard never more will claim Bull. Exton I thank thee not for thou hast wrought A Deed of Slaughter fatal for my Peace Which Thou and I and all the Land shall rue Ext. From your own Mouth my Lord did I this Deed. Bull. They love not Poyson that have need of Poyson Nor do I Thee I hate his Murderer Tho' I did wish him Dead Hell thank thee for it And guilt of Royal Blood be thy Reward Cursing and Curst go wander through the World Branded like Cain for all Mankind to shun Thee Wake Richard wake give me my Peace agen And I will give Thee back thy ravisht Crown Come Lords prepare to pay your last Respects To this great Hearse and help a King to Mourn A King 's untimely Fall O tort'ring Guilt In vain I wish The happy Change cou'd be That I slept There and Richard Mourn'd for Me. EPILOGUE Spoken by M ris Cook NOw we expect to hear our rare Blades say Dam ' me I see no Sense in this dull Play Thô much of it our abler Iudges know Was famous Sense 'bove Forty Years ago Sometimes we fail to Please for want of Witt i th' Play but more for want on 't in the Pitt For many a ruin'd Poëts Work 't wou'd Save Had you but half the Sense you think you have Poets on your Fore-Fathers pam'd dull Plays And shrewdly you revenge it in our Days In troth we fare by 't as your Tradesmen do For whilst they raise Estates by Cheating You Into Acquaintance with their Wives you fall And get 'em Graceless Sons to spend it All. 'T is plain Th' are Yours Cause All our Arts miscarry For just like You They 'll Damn before they 'll Marry Of honest Terms I now almost Despair Vnless retriev'd by some rich Yeoman's Heir In Grannam's Ribbans and his Own streight Hair What Comforts such a Lover will afford Ioynture Dear Ioynture O the Heavenly Word But E're of You my Sparks my Leave I take For your Vnkindness past these Pray'rs I make So very Constant may Your Misses be 'Till You grow Cloid for Want of Iealousie Into such Dullness may your Poëts Tire 'Till They shall write such Plays as You Admire May You instead of Gaming Whoring Drinking Be Doom'd to your Aversion Books and Thinking And for a Last Wish What I 'm sure You 'l Call The Curse of Curses Marriage Take ye All. FINIS * Epst. Ded. to the Span. Fryar