Scroop. Yea, all of them at Bristol loft their heads. Aum. Where is the Duke my Father, with his Power? K. Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man fpeak: Let's talk of Graves, of Worms, and Epitaphs, • Make duft our paper, and with rainy eyes. • Write forrow on the bofom of the earth! 'Let's chufe executors, and talk of wills; And yet not fo-for what can we bequeath, Save our depofed bodies to the ground? 'Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's, And nothing can we call our own, but death; And that small model of the barren earth, • Which ferves as paste and cover to our bones. 'For heav'n's fake, let us fit upon the ground, And tell fad ftories of the death of Kings: 'How fome have been depos'd, fome flain in war: Some haunted by the Ghofts they difpoffefs'd: Some poifon'd by their wives, fome fleeping kill'd: All murther'd.For within the hollow Crown, That rounds the mortal temples of a King,

6

.i

Keeps Death his Court; and there the Antick fits, Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pomp; Allowing him a breath, a little scene

11/

To monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks;
Infufing him with felf and vain conceit,

As if this flesh, which walls about our life,.
'Were brass impregnable: and, humour'd thus,
Comes at the last, and with a little pin

6

'Bores through his castle-walls, and farewel King! Cover your heads, and mock not filefh and blood ::

• With folemn Rev'rence: throw away refpect, Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,

८

For you have but mistook me all this while :

I live on bread like you, feel want like you.

5

And that fmall model of the barren earth] He ufes model here, as he frequently does elfew here, for part, portion,

• Tafte

• Tafte grief, need friends, like you: fubjected thus, • How can you fay to me, I am a King?

Carl. My lord, wife men ne'er wail their prefent woes, But presently prevent the ways to wail:

To fear the foe, fince fear oppreffeth ftrength,
Gives, in your weakness, strength unto your foe;
'And fo your follies fight against your self."
Fear, and be flain; no worfe can come from fight;
And fight and die, is death deftroying death:
Where fearing, dying, pays death fervile breath.
Aum. My father hath a power, enquire of him,
And learn to make a body of a limb.

[I come K. Rich. Thou chid'ft me well: proud Bolingbroke, To change blows with thee, for our day of doom; This ague-fit of fear is over-blown ;

An eafie task it is to win our own.

Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his Power?
Speak fweetly, man, although thy looks be fower.
Scroop. Men judge by the complexion of the sky
The state and inclination of the day;

So may you, by my dull and heavy eye,
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to fay.
I play the torturer, by small and small
To lengthen out the worft, that must be fpoken.
Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern caftles yielded up,
And all your fouthern gentlemen in arms
Upon his faction.

K. Rich. Thou haft faid enough.

Befhrew thee, Coufin, which didft lead me forth

Of that fweet way I was in to Defpair.

[To Aumerle.

What fay you now? what comfort have we now?
By heav'n, I'll hate him everlaftingly,
That bids me be of comfort any more.

6 And fo your follies &c.] This line is added from the first

Edition.

Mr. Pope.

Go to Flint-castle, there I'll pine away:
A King, woe's flave, fhall kingly woe obey:
That Pow'r I have, difcharge; and let 'em go
7 To ear the land, that hath fome hope to grow:
For I have none. Let no man fpeak again

To alter this, for counfel is but vain.
Aum. My Liege, one word.

K. Rich. He does me double wrong,
That wounds me with the flatt'ries of his tongue.
Discharge my Foll'wers: let them hence, away,
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.

[Exeunt.

Enter with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, and Attendants.

Boling.

that by this intelligence we learn,

The Welshmen are difpers'd; and Salisbury. Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed With fome 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 befeem the lord Northumberland, To fay, King Richard. Ah, the heavy day, When fuch a facred King fhould hide his head! North. Your Grace miftakes me; only to be brief, Left I his Title out.

York. The time hath been,

Would you have been fo brief with him, he would
Have been fo brief with You, to fhorten you,
For taking fo the Head, the whole Head's Length.
Boling. Miftake not, uncle, farther than you fhould.
York. Takenot, good coufin, farther than you should,

7

To ear the land,] ear or are, from are, to plow.

Mr. Pope.

Left

I

Left you mistake, the heav'ns are o'er your head.
Boling. I know it, uncle, nor oppofe my felf
Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter Percy.

Welcome, Harry; what, will not this castle yield?
Percy. The caftle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against your entrance.

Boling. Royally? why, it contains no King?
Percy. Yes, my good lord,

It doth contain a King: King Richard lies
Within the limits of yond lime and stone;
And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop, befides a clergy-man
Of holy reverence: who, I cannot learn.
North, Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.
Boling. Noble lord,

[To North.

Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle,
Through brazen trumpet fend the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver :
Henry of Bolingbroke upon his knees

Doth kifs King Richard's hand, and fends allegiance.
And faith of heart unto his royal perfon:
Ev'n at his feet I lay my arms and pow'r,
Provided, that my banishment repeal'd,
And lands reftor'd again, be freely granted:
If not, I'll ufe th' advantage of my pow'r,
And lay the fummer's duft with fhow'rs of blood,
Rain'd from the wounds of flaughter'd Englishmen.
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, fuch crimson tempeft should bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's Land,
My ftooping duty tenderly fhall fhew.

Go fignifie as much, while here we march
Upon the graffie carpet of this Plain;

Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
That from this Caftle's tatter'd battlements

Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, King Richard and my self fhould meet
With no lefs terror than the elements 3. »

Of fire and water, when their thund'ring Shock,
At meeting, tears the cloudy cheeks of heav'n:
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;

The rage
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.`
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.

be his, while on the earth I rain.

Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish. Enter, on the walls, King Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop and Salisbury,

"York. See! fee! King Richard doth himself appear, "As doth the blufhing difcontented Sun, "From out the fiery portal of the Eaft, "When he perceives, the envious clouds are bent "To dim his Glory; and to ftain the tract "Of his bright Paffage to the Occident.. Yet looks he like a King: behold his eye, As bright as is the Eagle's, lightens forth. Controlling Majefty! alack, for woe, That any harm fhould ftain fo fair a fhow!

[ftood

K. Rich. We are amaz'd, and thus long have we To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To North. Because we thought our felf thy lawful King; And, if we be, how dare thy joints forget

To pay

their awful duty to our prefence ?

If we be not, fhew us the hand of God,"
That hath difmifs'd us from our Stewardship.
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone

8. See! fee! King Richard doth himself appear,] The following fix lines are abfurdly given to Bolingbroke, who is made to condemn his own conduct and difculp the King's. It is plain these fix and the four following all belong to York.

Can