For time hath set a blot upon my pride. Aum. Comfort, my liege! remember who you are. K. Rich. I had forgot myself; am I not King? Awake, thou sluggard Majesty! thou sleep'st. Is not the King's name forty thousand names? Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes At thy great glory.-Look not to the ground, Ye favourites of a king; are we not high? High be our thoughts; I know, my uncle York Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here? Enter SCROOP. Scroop. More health and happiness betide my liege, Than can my care-tun'd tongue deliver him. K. Rich. Mine ear is open, and my heart prepar'd; The worst is worldly loss, thou canst unfold. Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care; And what loss is it, to be rid of care? Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we? Greater he shall not be; if he serve God, We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so. Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend; They break their faith to God, as well as us. Cry woe, destruction, ruin, loss, decay; The worst is death, and death will have his day. Scroop. Glad am I, that your Highness is so arm'd To bear the tidings of calamity. Like an unseasonable stormy day, Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores, Of double-fatal yew against thy state; I warrant, they have made peace with Bolingbroke. Scroop. Peace have they made with him, indeed, my lord. K. Rich. O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption ! Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man! Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart! Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas! Would they make peace? terrible hell make war Upon their spotted souls for this offence! Scroop. Sweet love, I see, changing his property, Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made With heads, and not with hands. Those whom you curse Have felt the worst of Death's destroying wound, And lie full low, grav'd in the hollow ground. Aum. Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead? Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol lost their heads. Aum. Where is the Duke my father, with his power? K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man speak. Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs; : Save our deposed bodies to the ground? To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks; Bores through his castle wall, and Farewell, king! Bishop. My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes, But presently prevent the ways to wail. To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength, K. Rich. Thou chid'st me well.-Proud Bolingbroke, I come To change blows with thee for our day of doom. An easy task it is, to win our own. Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power. To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken.— And all your southern gentlemen in arms K. Rich. Thou hast said enough. [To AUMERLE. Of that sweet way I was in to despair! What say you now? what comfort have we now? [Exeunt. SCENE III. Wales. A Plain before Flint Castle. Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE and Forces; YORK, Northumberland, and others. Bolingbroke. So that by this intelligence we learn The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed, With some 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 say King Richard. Alack the heavy day, When such a sacred king should hide his head! North. Your Grace mistakes me; only to be brief, Left I his title out. The time hath been, York. Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with you, to shorten you For taking off 13 the head, your whole head's length. Boling. Mistake not, uncle, farther than you should. York. Take not, good cousin, farther than you should, Lest you mis-take; the heavens are o'er our heads. Boling. I know it, uncle; and oppose not Myself against their will.-But who comes here? Enter PERCY. Welcome, Harry. What! will not this castle yield? Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance. Boling. Royally! Yes, my good lord, Why, it contains no king? Percy. It doth contain a king; King Richard lies Within the limits of yon lime and stone. And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman |