Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees;
Lest, being over-proud with sap and blood,
With too much riches it confound itself:
Had he done so to great and growing men,
They might have liv'd to bear, and he to taste
Their fruits of duty. All superfluous branches
Welop away, that bearing boughs may live:
Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown
down.

1 Serv. What, think you then, the king shall be
depos'd?

Gard. Depress'd he is already; and depos'd,
"Tis doubt, he will be: Letters came last night
To a dear friend of the good duke of York's,
That tell black tidings.

Queen.

O, I am press'd to death, Through want of speaking!-Thou, old Adam's likeness, [Coming from her concealment.

Set to dress this garden, how dares

Thy harsh-rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
What Eve, what serpent hath suggested thee
To make a second fall of cursed man?

Why dost thou say, king Richard is depos'd?
Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth,
Divine his downfal? Say, where, when, and how,
Cam'st thou by these ill tidings? speak, thou
wretch.

Gard. Pardon me, madam: little joy have I,
To breathe this news; yet, what I say, is true.
King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd:

In

your lord's scale is nothing but himself,

And some few vanities that make him light;
But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
Besides himself, are all the English peers,

And with that odds he weighs king Richard down.

Post you to London, and you'll find it so;
I speak no more than every one doth know.

Queen. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot,

Doth not thy embassage belong to me,

And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st
To serve me last, that I may longest keep
Thy sorrow in my breast.-Come, ladies, go,
To meet at London London's king in woe.-
What, was I born to this! that my sad look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?-
Gardener, for telling me this news of woe,
I would, the plants thou graft'st, may never grow.
[Exeunt Queen and Ladies.

Gard. Poor queen! so that thy state might be no

worse,

I would, my skill were subject to thy curse.-
Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place,
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace:
Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

[Exeunt.

VOL. V.

Adding withal, how blest this land would be,
In this your cousin's death.

Aum. Princes, and noble lords, What answer shall I make to this base man? Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars, On equal terms to give him chastisement? Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd With the attainder of his sland'rous lips. There is my gage, the manual seal of death, That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest, And will maintain, what thou hast said, is false, In thy heart-blood, though being all too base To stain the temper of my knightly sword. Boling. Bagot, forbear, thou shalt not take it

up.

Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence, that hath mov'd me so.

Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine: By that fair sun that shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that

day.

Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this

hour.

Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as

true,

In this appeal, as thou art all unjust:

And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
To prove it on thee to the extremest point
Of mortal breathing; seize it, if thou dar'st.
Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,

And never brandish more revengeful steel

Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

Lord. I take the earth to the like, forsworn
Aumerle;

And spur thee on with full as many lies
As may be holla'd in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun: there is my honour's
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.
Aum. Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw

at all:

I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Surrey. My lord Fitzwater

pawn;

do remember well

The very time Aumerle and you did talk.

Fitz. My lord, 'tis true: you were in presence then;

And you can witness with me, this is true.

Surrey. As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is

true.

Fitz. Surrey, thou liest.

Surrey.
Dishonourable boy!
That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword,
That it shall render vengeance and revenge,
Till thou the lie-giver, and that lie, do lie
In earth as quiet as thy father's scull.

In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou dar'st.

Fitz. How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse! If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,

I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,

And spit upon him, whilst I say, he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
To tie thee to my strong correction.—
As I intend to thrive in this new world,2

in this new world,] In this world where I have just begun to be an actor. Surrey, a few lines above, called him boy.