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And, noble dauphin, albeit we swear

To be a secondary at control, A voluntary zeal, and unurg'd faith,

| Or useful serving-man, and instrument, To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, To any sovereign state throughout the world. * I am not glad that such a sore of time

Your breath first kindled the dead coal of wars, Should seek a plaster by contemn’d revolt, Between this chastis'd kingdom and myself, And heal the inveterate canker of one wound Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; By making many. O, it grieves my soul, And come you now to tell me, John hath made That I must draw this metal from my side His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? To be a widow-maker;

I, by the honour of my marriage-bed, And is't not pity, O my grieved friends,

After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; That we, the sons and children of this isle, And, now it is half-conquer'd, must I back Were born to see so sad an hour as this;

Because that John bath made his peace with Wherein we step after a stranger, march

Rome? Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up

Am I Rome's slave? Wbat penny hath Rome ller enemi s’ ranks (I must withdraw and weep

borne, Upon the spot of this enforced cause),

What men provided, what munition sent, To grace the gentry of a land remote,

To underprop this action ? Is't not I, And follow unacquainted colours here ?

That undergo this charge? Who else but I ? What, here?-0 nation, that thou couldst remove! Have I not here the best cards for the game, That Neptune's arms, who clippeth thee about, To win this easy match play'd for a crown? Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself, And shall I now give o'er the yielded set ? And grapple thee unto a pagan shore;

No, no, on my soul it never shall be said. Where these two Christian armies might combine Pand. You look but on the outside of this work. The blood of malice in a vein of league,

Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return
And not to spend it so unneighbourly!

Till my attempt so much be glorified
· Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this, As to my ample hope was promised
And great affections, wrestling in thy bosom, Before I drew this gallant head of war,
Do make an earthquake of nobility.

And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, O, what a noble combat hast thou fought, To outlook conquest, and to win renown Between compulsion and a brave respect! Even in the jaws of danger and of death.Let me wipe off this honourable dew,

[Trumpet sounds. That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks ; What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us ? My heart bath melted at a lady's tears, Being an ordinary inundation;

Enter the Bastard, attended. But this effusion of such manly drops,

Bast. According to the fair play of the world, This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul, Let me have audience; I am sent to speak; Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz’d My boly lord of Milan, from the king Than had I seen the vaulty top of heaven

I come, to learn how you have dealt for him ; Figur'd quite o'er with burning meteors.

And, as you answer, I do know the scope Lift up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,

And warrant limited unto my tongue. And with a great heart beave away this storm; Pand. The dauphin is too wilful-opposite, Commend these waters to those baby eyes,

And will not temporise with my entreaties ; That never saw the giant world enrag'd;

He flatly says he'll not lay down his arms. Nor met with fortune oth r than at feasts,

Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breath’d,
Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossipping. The youth says well : now hear our English king,
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep For thus his royalty doth speak in me.
Into the purse of rich prosperity,

He is prepar'd; and reason too, he should :
As Lewis himself :-so, nobles, shall you all, This apish and unmannerly approach,
That knit your sinews to the strength of mine. | This barness'd masque and unauvis’d revel,

This unhair, sauciness, and boyish troops,
Enter PANDULPH, attended.

The king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd And even there, methinks, an angel spake : To whip this dwarfish war, these pigmy arms, Look where the holy legate comes apace,

From out the circle of his territories. To give us warrant from the hand of Heaven; Know, the gallant monarch is in arms : And on our actions set the name of right,

And like an eagle o'er his aery towers, With holy breath.

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest. Pan.

Hail, noble prince of France ! And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, The next is this,-King John hath reconcil'd Of your dear mother England, blush for shame; Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in,

For your own ladies, and pale-visag'd maids, That so stood out against the holy church, Like Amazons, come tripping after drums; The great metropolis and see of Rome:

Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, Therefore thy threat’ning colours now wind up, Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts And tame the savage spirit of wild war;

To fierce and bloody inclination. That, like a lion foster'd up at band,

Lew. There end thy brave, and turn thy face in It may lie gently at the foot of peace,

peace : And be no further harmful than in show.

We grant thou canst outscold us; fare thee well: Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not We hold our time too precious to be spent back;

With such a babbler. I am too high-born to be propertied, .

Pand.

Give me leave to speak.

Lew.

belief,

Bast. No, I will speak.

SCENE. The orchard of Swinstead Abbey. * We will attend to neither :Strike up our drums to find this danger out.

Enter Prince Henry, SALISBURY, and Bigot. Bast. And thou shalt find it, dauphin, do not P. Hen. It is too late ; the life of all his blood doubt.

Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain [Exeunt. (Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling

house) SCENE. The same. A Field of Battle. Doth, by the idle comments that it makes,

Foretell the ending of mortality. Alarums. Enter King John and HUBERT.

Enter PEMBROKE. K. John. How goes the day with us ? 0, tell

Pem. His highness yet doth speak; and holds me, Hubert. Hub. Badly, I fear : How fares your majesty ? | It would allay the burning quality

That, being brought into the open air, K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so l of that fell poison which assaileth him. long,

P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard Lies heavy on me: O, my heart is sick!

here. Doth he still rage?

[Exit Bigot. Enter a Messenger.

Pem.

He is more patient Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulcon- Than when you left him ; even now he sung. bridge,

P. Hen. vanity of sickness ! fierce extremes, Desires your majesty to leave the field,

In their continuance, will not feel themselves. And send him word by me which way you go.

Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts, K, John, Tell him, toward Swinstead, to the Leaves them invisible; and his siege is now abbey there.

Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds Mess. Be of good comfort ; for the great supply,

With many legions of strange fantasies; That was expected by the dauphin here,

Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, Are wrack'd three nights ago on Goodwin Sands.

Confound themselves. 'Tis strange, that death This news was brought to Richard but even now:

should sing. The French fight coldly, and retire themselves. I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan, · K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up, Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death ; And will not let me welcome this good news. | And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight;

His soul and body to their lasting rest. Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint.

Sal. Be of good comfort, prince ; for you are (Exeunt.

born

To set a form upon that indigest,
Enter LEWIS and his Train.

Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. Lew. The sun of heaven, methought, was loth Re-enter Bigor and Attendants, who bring in to set,

King John in a chair. But stay'd, and made the western welkin blush, K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbowWhen the English measur'd backward their own

room; ground,

It would not out at windows, nor at doors. In faint retire: 0), bravely came we off,

There is so hot a summer in my bosom, When with a volley of our needless shot,

That all my bowels crumble up to dust; After such bloody toil, we bid good night; I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen! And wound our tattered colours clearly up, Upon a parchment; and against this fire Last in the field, and almost lords of it!

Do I shrink up.

P. Hen. How fares your majesty ?
Enter a Messenger.

K. John. Poison'd,-ill fare ;-dead, forsook, Mess. Where is my prince, the dauphin ?

cast off; Lew.

Here:-- What news. And none of you,

And none of you will bid the winter come, Mess. The Count Melun is slain ; the English

Wolish Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course lords,

* Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the north By his persuasion, are again fallen off:

To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,

And comfort me with cold:-I do not ask you Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin Sands..

much, Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news !-Beshrew thy rery

I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait, heart!

And so ungrateful, you deny me that. I did not think to be so sad to-night

P. Hen. O that there were some virtue in my As this hath made me.- Who was he that said,

tears, King John did fly an hour or two before

That might relieve you ! The stumbling night did part our weary powers ?

K. John,

The salt in them is ho t. Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.

Within me is a hell; and there the poison Lew. Well; keep good quarter and good care

Is, as a fiend, confined to tyrannize to-night;

On unreprievable condemned blood. The day shall not be up so soon as I,

Enter the Bastard. To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.

K. John. O cousin, thou art coine to set mine (Exeunt.

eye.

ear.

The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burnt; | Who half an hour since came from the dauphin ;
And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail, And brings from him such offers of our peace
Are turned to one thread, one little hair : As we with honour and respect may take,
My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, With purpose presently to leave this war.
Which holds but till thy news be uttered,

Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees
And then all this thou seest is but a clod, Ourselves well sinewed to our defence,
And module of confounded royalty.

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; Bast. The dauphin is preparing hitherward; For many carriages he hath despatch'd Where, Heaven he knows, how we shall answer To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel him ;

To the disposing of the cardinal, For, in a night, the best part of my power, With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, As I upon advantage did remove,

If you think meet, this afternoon will post Were in the washes, all unwarily,

To consummate this business happily. Devoured by the unexpected flood.

Bust. Let it be 80 :- And you, my noble prince,

[The King dies. With other princes that may best be spar'd, Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an Shall wait upon your father's funeral.

P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be in. My liege! my lord ! — But now a king, - now

terr’d, thus.

For so he will'd it. P. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so Bast.

Thither shall it then, stop.

And happily may your sweet self put on What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, | The lineal state and glory of the land ! When this was now a king, and now is clay! To whom, with all submission, on my knee,

Bast. Art thou gone so? I do but stay behind I do bequeath my faithful services To do the office for thee of revenge;

And true subjection everlastingly. And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, 1 Sal. And the like tender of our love we make, As it on earth hath been thy servant still.

To rest without a spot for evermore. Now, now, you stars, that move in your right P. Hen. I bave a kind soul, that would give spheres,

you thanks, Where be your powers : Show now your mended And knows not how to do it, but with tears. faiths ;

Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful woe, And instantly return with me again,

Since it bath been beforehand with our griefs. To push destruction, and perpetual shame, This England never did, nor never shall, Out of the weak dvor of our fainting land : Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror, Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be But when it first did help to wound itself. sought;

Now these her princes are come home again, The dauphin rages at our very heels.

Come the three corners of the world in arms, Sal. It seenis you know not then so much And we shall shock them: Nought sball make us as we;

rue, The Cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, | If England to itself do rest but trur. (Exeunt.

KING RICHARD THE SECOND.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

KING RICHARD THE SECOND.
DUKE OF YORK, ! Uncles to the King.
DUKE OF LANCASTER, S
MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk.
AUMERLE, son to the Duke of York.
EARL OF SALISBURY.

EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP.
QUEEN 10 King Richard.
DUCHTSS OFYORK.
EXTON, Grooms, gc.

ACT I.

SCENE.—London.

pet. Then enter NORFOLK in armour, preceded Flourish of trumpets. Enter King RICHARD, who

by a Herald. takes his seat on his throne ; GAUNT, and seve- K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion, ral Noblemen, who take their places. A trum- | The cause of his arrival here in arms; pet is sounded, and answered by another trum. ! Ask him his name; and orderly proceed

To swear him in the justice of his cause.

I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here; } Mar. In God's name and the king's, say who Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear; thou art,

The which no balm can cure, but his heart-blood
And why thou com’st thus knightly clad in arms: Which breath'd this poison. My dear, dear lord,
Against what man thou com'st, and what thy The purest treasure mortal times afford
quarrel :

Is spotless reputation : that away,
Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thine oath; Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
And so defend thee, Heaven, and thy valour! A jewel in a ten-times barr’d-up chest,
Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast,
Norfolk;

And [Rising.] howe'er Heaven, or fortune cast Who hither come engaged by my oath

my lot, (Which Heaven defend a knight should violate !) There lives, or dies, true to King Richard's throne, Both to defend my loyalty and truth

A loyal, just, and upright gentleman :
To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, Never did captive with a freer heart
Against the Duke of Hereford, that appeals me; Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace
And, by the grace of God, and this mine arm, His golden uncontroll’d enfranchisement,
To prove him, in defending of myself,

More than my dancing sonl doth celebrate
A traitor to my God, my king, and me;

This feast of battle with mine adversary. And, as I truly fight, defend me Heaven! Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,

[He takes his seat. Take from my mouth the wish of happy years;

As gentle and as jocund, as to jest, Trumpet sounds. Enter BOLINGBROKE in armour,

Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast. preceded by a Herald.

· K. Rich. Farewell, my lord ; securely I espy K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. Both who he is, and why he cometh hither, Order the trial, marshal, and begin. Thus plated in habiliments of war ;

[The KING and the Lords return to their seats. And formally according to our law

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Depose him in the justice of his cause.

Receive thy lance: and God defend the right! Mar. What is thy name and wherefore com'st Sound, trumpets; and set forward combatants. thou hither,

[A charge sounded. Before King Richard, in his royal lists?

Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. Against whom comest thou ? and what's thy K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and quarrel ?

their spears, Speak like a true knight, so defend thee Heaven! And both return now to their chairs again : Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and / Withdraw with us : and let the trumpets sound, Derby,

| While we return these dukes what we decree.Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,

[A long flourish. To prove, by Heaven's grace, and my body's Draw near,

[To the Combatants. valour,

And list, what with our council we have done. In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, For that our kingdom's earth shall not be soild That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,

With that dear blood which it hath fostered; } To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me; And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect And, as I truly fight, defend me Heaven!

Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold,

swords; Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists,

Therefore, we banish you our territories : Except the marshal, and such officers

You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death, Appointed to direct these fair designs.

Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields, Boling. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sove Shall not regreet our fair dominions, reign's hand,

But tread the stranger paths of banishment. And bow my knee before his majesty;

Boling. Your will be done ; This must my com. For Mowbray and myself are like two men

fort be That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;

That sun which warms you here, shall shine on me, Then let us take a ceremonious leave,

And those his golden beams, to you here lent, And loving farewell, of our several friends. Shall point on me, and gild my banishment. Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier highness,

doom, And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. Which I with some unwillingness pronounce; K. Rich, We will descend, and hold him in our The fly-slow hours shall not determinate arms.

The dateless limit of thy dear exile ;Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, The hopeless word of, never to return, So be thy fortune in this royal fight!

Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. Farewell, my blood; wbich if to-day thou shed, | Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

liege. Boling. My noble cousin !

And all unlook'd-for from your highness' mouth ; í Norfolk udvances and knee is to Richard. A dearer merit, not so deep a maim Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy | As to be cast forth in the common air, foot :

Have I deserv'd at your highness' hands.

about,

The language I have learn'd these forty years, Can change their moons, and bring their times
My native English, now I must forego :
And now my tongue's use is to me no more My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light,
Than an unstring'd viol, or a harp;

Shall be extinct with age and endless night; Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

My inch of taper will be burnt and done, Or, being open, put into his hands

And blindfold death not let me see my son. That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

K. Rich, Why, uncle, thou hast many years to Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,

live. Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance

give; Is made my gaoler to attend on me.

Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow. Too far in years to be a pupil now;

Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, What is thy sentence, then, but speechless death, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; Which robs my tongue from breathing native Thy word is current with him for my death: breath?

But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate; | K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, After our sentence plaining comes too late. Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave; Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lower ? light,

Gaunt. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.

sour.

[Retiring. You urged me as a judge; but I had rather K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with You would have bid me argue like a father : thee.

(0, had it been a stranger, not my child, Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; To smooth his fault I should have been more mild : Swear by the duty that you owe to Heaven, A partial slander sought I to avoid, (Our part therein we banish with yourselves), And in the sentence my own life destroy’d.) To keep the oath that we administer :

Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, .. You never shall (so help you truth and Heaven!) | I was too strict to make mine own away; Embrace each other's love in banishment ; But you gave leave to mine unwilling tongue, Nor ever look upon each other's face;

Against my will, to do myself this wrong. Nor ever write, regreet, or reconcile

K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :--and, uncle, bid This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate;

him so ; Nor ever by advised purport meet

Six years we banish him, and he shall go.' To plot, contrive, or complot any ill

[Flourish. Exeunt K. RICHARD and Train. 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. | Aum. Cousin, farewell : what presence must not Boling. I swear.

know, Nor. And I, to keep all this.

From where you do remain, let paper show. Boling. Norfolk, -so far as to mine enemy; Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride By this time, had the king permitted us,

As far as land will let me by your side. One of our souls had wander'd in the air,

Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,

words, As now our flesh is banish'd from this land : That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends! Confess thy treasons ere thou fly this realm; Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, Since thou hast far to go, bear not along

When the tongue's office shall be prodigal The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.

To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were a traitor, Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. My name be blotted from the book of life,

Boling. Joy, absent, grief is present for that And I from heaven banish'd as from hence !

time. But what thou art, Heaven, thou, and I do know; Gaunt. What is six winters ? they are quickly And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.

gone. Farewell, my liege :--Now no way can I stray: Boling. To men in joy: but grief makes one Save back to England; all the world's my way.

hour ten.

[Exit. Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak’st for K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes

pleasure. I see thy grieved heart; thy sad aspeet

Boling. My heart will sigh when I miscall it sa, Hath from the number of his banish'd years | Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. Pluck'd four away :-Six frozen winters spent, Gnunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps Return [To BOLING.] with welcome home from Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set banishment,

The precious jewel of thy home return, Boling. How long a time lies in one little word ! Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs,

make, End in a word: Such is the breath of kings. Will but remember me, what a deal of world

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me, I wander from the jewels that I love. He shortens four years of my son's exile ;

Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
But little vantage shall I reap thereby;

To foreign passages'; and in the end,
For ere the six years that he hath to spend Having my freedomn, boast of nothing else

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