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
thy Fortune in this Royal Fight Farewel my Blood which if thou chance to shed Lament we may but not revenge the dead Bull. No noble eye be seen to loose a Tear On me if I be foil'd by Mowbrays Arm As confident as is the Faulcon's flight At tim'rous Birds do I with Mowbray fight O thou the gen'rous Author of my Blood To Gaunt Whose youthful Spirit enflames and lifts me up To reach at Victory above my Head Add proof to this my Armour with thy Pray'rs And with thy Blessings point my vengeful Sword To furbish new th' illustrious name of Gaunt Mow. However Heaven or Fortune cast my Lot There lives or dies a just and loyal man Never did wretched Captive greet the hour Of freedom with more welcome or delight Than my transported soul do's celebrate This Feast of battle Blessings on my King And peace on all King Farewell my Lord Virtue and Valour guard thee Marshal finish Marsh. Harry of Herford Lancaster and Derby Receive thy Sword and Heav'n defend thy Right Fear this to Mowbray Mow. Curse on your tedious Ceremonies more To us tormenting then t'expecting Bridegrooms The signal for Heav'ns sake Marsh. Sound Trumpets and set forward Combatants Stay stay the King has thrown his Warder down King Command the Knights once more back to their Posts And let the Trumpets sound a second charge Whilst with our Lords we briefly do advise Another flourish after which the King speaks Command 'em to resigne their Arms and listen To what we with our Council have Decreed For that our Eyes detest the spectacle Of Civil Wounds from whence the dire infection Of general War may spring we bar your Combat Suppress those Arms that from our Coast wou'd fright Fair Peace and make us wade in Kinsmen's Blood And lest your Neighbour-hood cause after-broils We banish you our Realms to different Climes You Bullingbrook on pain of Death Till twice five Summers have enircht our Fields Bull. And must this be your Pleasure well Your pleasure stand 't will be my comfort still The Sun that warms you here shall shine on me And guild my Banishment King Mowbray for thee remains a heavier doom The slow succeeding hours shall not determine The dateless limit of thy dear exile The hopeless word of never to return Breath we against thee upon pain of Death Mow. A heavy Sentence my most Sov'raign Lord The Language I have learnt these Forty years My native English must I now forgo I am too old to fawn upon a Nurse And learn the Prattle of a forraign tongue What is thy Sentence then but speechless Death You take the cruelst way to rob my Breath King Complaint comes all too late where we decree Mow. Then thus I turn me from my Countries light Pleas'd with my doom because it pleas'd the King Farewell my Lord now Mowbray cannot stray Let me shun England all the worlds my way King Return again and take an Oath with thee Lay on our Royal Sword your banisht Hands Swear by the duty that you owe to Heav'n Nere to embrace each others love in Banishment Nor ever meet nor write to reconcile This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate Nor Plot to turn the edge of your Revenge On Us our State our Subjects and our Land Bull. I Swear Mow. And I to keep all this Bull. By this time Mowbray had the King permitted One of our Souls had wandered in the Air As now our flesh is doomd on Earth to wander Confess thy Treason ere thou fly the Land Since thou hast far to go bear not along Th'incumbring Burden of a guilty Soul Mow. No Bullingbrook if ever I were false Let Heav'n renounce me as my Country has But what thou art Heav'n Thou and I do know And all my heart forbodes too soon shall rue My absence then shall yet this comfort bring Not to behold the Troubles of my King Exit King Uncle within thy tear-charg'd Eyes I read Thy hearts fell sorrow and that troubled Look Has from the number of his Banisht years Pluckt four away Six frozen Winters spent Return with welcome from thy Banishment Gaunt I thank my Liege that in regard to me He cuts off four years from my Sons exile But small advantage shall I reap thereby For ere those slow six years can change their Moons My inch of Taper will be spent and done Nor Gaunt have life to welcom home his Son King Despair not Uncle you have long to live Gaunt But not a Minute King that thou canst give King Thy Son was banisht upon advice To which thy Tongue a party Verdict gave Gaunt My interest I submitted to your Will You urg'd me like a Judge and I forgot A Father's Name and like a strict Judge doom'd Him Alas I look'd when some of you should say I was too strict to make my Own away But all gave leave to my unwilling Tongue To do my ag'd heart this unnatural wrong King Now for the Rebels that hold out in Ireland And turn our mild forbearance to contempt Fresh forces must be levi'd with best speed Ere farther leisure yield them further strength We will our self in person to this War And quench this flame before it spread too far Ex. with Attendants Gaunt O to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words When thou shouldst breath dear farewels to thy Friends That round thee all like silent Mourners gaze Bull. They will not censure me whose scanty time And breath 's too little to take leave of you My dear Companions you have known my Heart Too long to doubt it on a silent grief Ha! by my swelling blood my Father 's pale How fare's your honour good my Lords your hands Gaunt I feel a heaviness like Death and hope It is no counterfeit All shall be well Bull. By Heav'n it shall I feel my veins work high And conscious glory kindling in my brest Inspires a Thought to vast to be exprest Where this disgrace will end the Heav'ns can tell And Herford's Soul divines that 't will be well A Beam of royal splendor strikes my Eye Before my charm'd sight Crowns and Scepters fly The minutes big with Fate too slowly run But hasty Bullingbrook shall push 'em on Ex. The End of the First Act. ACT II. A Chamber Gaunt Sick to him York York NOW Brother what cheer Gaunt Why well 't is with me as old Gaunt cou'd wish York What Harry sticks with you still well I hear he 's safe in France and very busie Gaunt My Blood were never Idle York I fear too busie come he 's a parlous Boy I smell a confed'racy betwixt him and his Companions here Mischief will come on 't cut him off I say Let him be Kites-meat I would hang a Son to kill a Traytor Gaunt Go sleep good York and wake with better thoughts York Heav'n grant we sleep not all 'till Alarums wake us I tell you Brother I lik'd not the manner of his departure 't was the very smooth smiling
Face of Infant Rebellion with what familiar Courtesie did he caress the Rabble What reverence did he throw away on Slaves Off goes his Bonnet to an Oysterwench A Brace of Dray-men bid God speed him well And had the Tribute of his supple knee Then shakes a Shoo-maker by the waxt Thumbs With thanks my Country-men my Friends my Brothers Then comes a Peal of sighs wou'd knock a Church down Roguery mechanick Roguery rank Treason Gaunt My sickness grows upon me set me higher York Villany takes its time all goes worse and worse in Ireland Rebellion is there on the Wing and here in the Egg yet still the Court dances after the French Pipe Eternal Apes of Vanity Mutiny stirring Discipline asleep Knaves in Office all 's wrong make much of your Sickness Brother if it be Mortal 't is worth a Duke-dome Gaunt How happy Heav'n were my approaching death Cou'd my last words prevail upon the King Whose easie gentle Nature has expos'd His unexperienc'd Youth to flatterers frauds Yet at this hour I hope to bend his Ear To Councel for the Tongues of dying men Enforce attention like deep Harmony Where words are scarce th' are seldom spent in Vain For they breath Truth that breath their Words in Pain Enter King Queen Northumberland Ross Willoughby Piercye c. With Guards and Attendants Queen How fares our Noble Uncle Lancaster King How is' t with aged Gaunt Gaunt Ag'd as your Highness says and Gaunt indeed Gaunt as a Grave whose Womb holds nought but Bones King Can sick men play so nicely with their Names Gaunt Since thou dost seek to kill my Name in me I mock my Name great King to flatter thee King Should dying men then flatter those that Live Gaunt No no Men living flatter those that dye King Thou now a dying sayst thou flatter'st me Gaunt Oh! no Thou dyest though I the sicker am King I am in health breath free but see thee ill Gaunt Now he that made me knows I see thee ill Thy death-bed is no less than the whole Land Whereon thou ly'st in Reputation sick Yet hurri'd on by a malignant fate Commit'st thy annoynted Body to the Cure Of those Physitians that first Poyson'd thee Upon thy Youth a Swarm of flatterers hang And with their fulsome weight are daily found To bend thy yielding Glories to the ground King Judge Heav'n how poor a thing is Majesty Be thou thy self the Judge when thou sick Wight Presuming on an Agues Priviledge Dar'st with thy Frozen admonition Make pale our Cheek but I excuse thy weakness Gaunt Think not the Ryot of your Court can last Tho fed with the dear Life blood of your Realms For vanity at last preys of it self This Earth of Majesty this seat of Mars This Fortress built by Nature in the Floods Whose Rocky shores beat back the foaming Sedge This England Conqu'rour of the Neighbring Lands Makes now a shameful Conquest on it self York Now will I stake my Liege my Soul upon 't Old Gaunt is hearty in his wishes for you And what he speaks is out of honest Zeal And tho thy Anger prove to me as Mortal As is to him this sickness yet blunt York Must Eccho to his words and cry Thou art abus'd and flatter'd King Gentle Uncle Excuse the sallies of my youthful Blood I know y' are Loyal both and mean us well Nor shall we be unmindful to redress However difficult our States corruption And purge the Vanities that Crown'd our Court. Gaunt My gracious Liege your Pardon this bold duty Was all that stood betwixt my Grave and me Your Sycophants bred from your Child-hood with you Have such advantage had to work upon you That scarce your failings can be call'd your faults Now to Heav'ns care and your own Piety I leave my sacred Lord and may you have In life that peace that waits me in the Grave King Thanks my good Uncle bear him to his Bed Exit Gaunt Attend him well and if a Princes Prayers Have more than common interest with Heav'n Our Realm shall yet enjoy his honest Councel And now my Souldiers for our Irish Wars We must suppress these rough prevailing Kerns That live like Venom where no Venom else But only they have priviledg to live But first our Uncle Gaunt being indispos'd We do create his Brother both in Blood And Loyalty our Uncle York Lord Governour of England in our absence Observe me Lords and pay him that respect You give our Royal Presence Enter Northumberland North. My Liege old Gaunt commends him to your Highness King What says our Uncle North. Nothing all is said His Tongue is now a stringless instrument But call'd on your lov'd name and blest you dying King The ripest fruit falls first and so doe's He His course is done our Pilgrimage to come So much for that return we to our War And cause our Coffers with too great a Court And liberal Largess are grown somewhat Light Prest with this exigence we for a time Do seize on our dead Uncles large Revenues In Herford's absence York O my Liege pardon me if you please if not I please not to be pardon'd spare to seize the Royalties and Rights of banisht Herford I fear already he 's too apt t' engage against your Power and these proceedings will give countenance and growth to his Designs forbear to draw such Dangers on your Head King Be Heav'n our judge we mean him nothing fowl But shortly will with interest restore The Loan our sudden streights make necessary Weep not my Love nor drown with boding Tears Our springing Conquest bear our absence well Nor think that I have joy to part with Thee Tho never vacant Swain in silent Bowers Cou'd boast a passion so sincere as mine Yet where the int'rest of the Subject calls We wave the dearest Transports of our Love Flying from Beauty ' Arms to rugged War Conscience our first and Thou our second Care Exeunt Manent Morthumberland Piercy Ross Willoughby North. Well Lords the Duke of Lancaster is dead Will. And living too if Justice had her right For Herford then were more than a bare Name Who now succeeds departed Gaunt in nothing But in his mind 's rich Virtues the Kings pleas'd To have occasion for his temporal wealth O my heart swells but let it burst with silence Ere it be disburden'd with a liberal tongue Perc. Now rot the tongue that scants a Subjects freedom Loosers at least are priviledgd to talk And who accounts not Herfords looss his own Deserves not the esteem of Herford's friend There 's none of us here present but did weep At parting and if there be any one Whose tears are not converted now to fire He is a Crocadile North. The fate of Bullingbrook will soon be ours We hear the Tempest sing yet seek no shelter We see our wreck and yet securely perish A sure but willful Fate for had ye Spirits But worthy to receive it I cou'd say How near the tidings of our comfort
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
to bow the knee And do Obeysance to our Royal Master To treat of Peace and tend him all the way With duteous Ceremony humblest Service Yet basely to confine him after all To call a Senate in King Richard's Name Against King Richard to depose King Richard Is such a Monster to curst usurpation As nere was practis'd in the barb'rous Climes Where Subject her'd and Courts themselves are Savage York Out on this Sultry Robe O Spleen Spleen Fat and Vexation will be the Death of me Behold this Brace Of Raizor-nos'd Rascals you 'd swear that a split Groat made both their Faces lean Pimps That cou'd scarce stop a Cranny in a Door Why they are sorsooth no less than Rogues of State Mess. My Lord this is no Answer to our Message York I the Message I had rather you had brought me Poyson for certain 't was sent to be the Death of me Thou know'st Boy on what Account we are going this Morning Won'd you think it this Traytor Bullingbrook has sent for me for me I say sent by these Rogues for me to confer with him in private before the House sits Aum. That was indeed provoking York Nay let honest men judge if Murder was not in his heart and that he thought the Message wou'd make me Die with Choller Now should I clap this pair of Arrows to a Bow-string and shoot 'em back to the Usurper Go tell the Knave your Master He 's a Fool to send for me I renounce him Speak with him in private before the House sits Why I wou'd not meet him there but to shew my self for Richard and then tell him he 'l see one that that hates a Traytor be Bullingbrook what he will Exit Enter Dutchess of York Dutch Aumarle come back by all the Charms of Duty I do conjure you temper your rash Father His Zeal can do th' abandoned King no good But will provoke th' usurper to our ruin Aum. Already I have prest beyond his Patience What can our poor Endeavours help the King When he himself comply's with his hard fortune He comes this Morning to Resign the Crown Dutch Where then is that amazing Resolution That in his Non-age fir'd his Youthful Brest To face Rebellion and strike dead the Monster When Tyler's Deluge cover'd all the Land Or where the fury that supprest the Kerns Whilst numbers perisht by his Royal Arm Aum. With such Malignant fortune he is prest As renders bravest Resolution vain By force and fraud reduc't to that Distress That ev'n i th' best opinion of his Friends He is advis'd to yield his Scepter up This poor reserve being all to make that seem As voluntary which perforce must be But how resents the Queen this strange Oppression Dutch As yet the worst has been dissembled to her A slumber now has seiz'd her wakeful Lids But heere she comes I must attend Away Ex. Aum. Enter Queen supported by Ladies Qu. Convey me to my Lord or bring him hither Fate labours in my Brest and frights my Dreams No sooner sleep can seize my weeping Eyes But boding Images of Death and Horrour Affright the Infant slumber into Cries A Thousand forms of ruin strike my thoughts A Thousand various Scenes of Fate are shewn Which in their sad Catastrophe agree The Moral still concludes in Richard's fall Dutch How shall we now dare to inform her Grief Of the sad Scene the King must Act to day Qu. Ev'n now amidst a Chaos of distraction A Towring Eagle wing'd his cloudy way Pursu'd by rav'nous Kites and clamorous Daws That stript th' imperial Bird of all his Plumes And with their Numbers sunk him to the ground But as I nearer drew the Figure chang'd My Richard there lay weltring in his gore So dreamt Calphurnia and so fell Caesar. Enter a Lady Lad. Madam the King is coming Qu. Thou bring'st a welcom hearing and already I feel his powerful influence chase my fears For grief it self must smile when Richard's by Enter King in Mourning Oh Heav'n is this is this my promis'd joy Not all the terrours of my sleep presented A Spectacle like this O speak my Lord The Blood starts back to my cold Heart O speak What means this dark and mournful Pageantry This pomp of Death King Command your Waiters forth My space is short and I have much to say Qu. Are these the Robes of State Th' imperial Garb In which the King should go to meet his Senate Was I not made to hope this Day shou'd be Your second Coronation second Birth Of Empire when our Civil Broils shou'd sleep For ever husht in deep Oblivion's Grave King O Isabel This Pageantry suits best With the black Day 's more black Solemnity But 't is not worth a Tear for say what part Of Life's vain Fable can deserve a Tear A real Sorrow for a feign'd Distress My Coronation was methinks a Dream Think then my Resignation is no more Qu. What Resignation Mean you of the Crown Will Richard then against himself conspire Th' Usurper will have more excuse than he No Richard never tamely yield your Honours Yield me yield if you must your precious Life But seize the Crown and grasp your Scepter dying King Why dost thou fret a Lyon in the Toil To Rage that only makes his Hunters sport Permit me briefly to recount the steps By which my Fortune grew to this distress Then tell me what cou'd Alexander do Against a Fate so obstinate as mine Qu. Oh Heav'n Is awful Majesty no more King First had I not bin absent when th' Invader Set footing here or if being then in Ireland The cross Winds not forbad the News to reach me Or when the shocking Tidings were arriv'd Had not the veering Winds agen obstructed My passage back till rumour of my Death Disperst the Forces rais'd by Salisbury Or when these hopes were perisht had not Baggot Bushie and Green by Bullingbrook been murder'd Old York himself our last reserve surpriz'd There were some scope for Resolution left But what curst Accident i' th' power of Chance That did not then befall to cross my Wishes And what strange hit could Bullingbrook desire That fell not out to push his Forttnes on Whatever outmost Fate cou'd do to blast My hopes was done what outmost Fate cou'd do T' advance proud Bullingbrooks as sure befell Now which of these Misfortunes was my fault Or what cou'd I against resisting Heav'n Qu. Oh my dear Lord think not I meant t' upbraid Weeps over hims Your Misery Death seize my Youth when any other passion For injur'd Richard in my Brests finds room But tendrest Love and Pity of his Woes King That I resign the Crown with seeming will Is now the best my Friends can counsel me Th' usurping House decrees it must be done And therefore best that it seem Voluntary Qu. Has Loyalty so quite renoune't the World That none will yet strike for an injur'd King King Alas my sinking Barque shall wreck no more My gen'rous Friends let
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