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lets now,

Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke ! York. Give me my boots, I say ; saddle my Whilst he, from one side to the other turuing,

borse : Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck, Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, Bespake them thus,-- I thank you, countrymeu : I will appeach the villain. (Exit Sei vaut, And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.

Duch. What's the matter ? Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he York. Peace, foolish woman. the while ?

Duch. I will not peace : What is the matter, York. As in a theatre, the eyes of meu,

son ? After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,

Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no Are idly beut on hiin that enters wext,

more Thinking his prattle to be tedious :

Tban my poor life must answer. Even so, or with much more contempt, men's Duch. Thy life answer !

eyes Did scowl on Richard ; no man cried, God save

Re-enter Servant, with Boots. him ;

York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home;

king But dust was thrown upon his sacred head; Duch. Strike bim, Aumerle.-Poor boy, thou Which with such gentle sorrow he shook oft,

art amaz'd : His face still combating with tears and smiles, Hence, villain l uever more come in my sight.The badges of his grief and patience,

(To the Servant. That had not God, for some strong purpose,

York. Give me iny boots, I say. steel'd

Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? The hearts of men, they must perforce, have Will thou not hide the trespass of thine own 1 melted,

Have we more sous ? or are we like to have ? And barbarism itself have pitied bim.

Is not iny teeming date drunk up with time? But heaven hath a hand in these events;

And wilt thou pluck my fair son from miue aye, To whose high will we bound our calm contents. And rob ine of a happy mother's name? 'To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, Is be not like thee? is he not thine owu ? Whose state and honour I for ayé + allow.

York. Thou foud mad woman,

Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?

A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle.

And interchangeably set dowu their hands, York. Aunerle that was ;

To kill the king at Oxford. But that is lost, for being Richard's friend, Duch. He shall be none;

(bim ! And, madam, you must call him Rutland now : We'll keep him here : Theu what is tbat to I am in parliaineut pledge for bis trutlı,

York. Away, And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

Fond wolnau ! were he twenty times my son, Duch. Welcoine, my son : Wbo are the vio- I would appeach him.

Duch. Hadst thou groan'd for him, That strew the green lap of the new-coine As I have done, thou'd'st be more pitiful. spring ?

But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, Aum. Madain, I kuow not, nor I greatly care That I have been disloyal to thy bed, not:

And that he is a bastard, not thy son : God knows, I had as lief be uone, as oue. Siveet York, sweet husband, be not of that inind: York. Well, bear you well in this new spring le is as like thee as a man may be, of time,

Not like to me, or any of my kiu, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime, And yet I love him. What news from Oxford ? hold those justs 1 and York. Make way, unruly woman. (Exit. triumphs ?

Duch. Atter, Aumerle ; mount thee vpon his Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do.

horse ; York. You will be there, I know.

Spur, post; and get before him to the king, Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. And beg thy pardon ere he du accuse thee. York. What seal is that, that haugs without !'ll not be long behind i though I be old, thy bosom?

I doubt not but to ride as fast as York: Yea, look'st thou pale ? let me see the writing. Aud never will I rise up from the ground, Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing.

Til Bolingbroke bave pardou'd thee : Away ; York. No matter then who sees it :


(Ereunt. I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me ;

SCENE III.-Windsor.-A Room in the It is a matter of sinall consequence,

Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
York, which for some reasons, Sir, I mean

Enter BOLING BROKE as King; PERCY, and

other LORDS. to see. I fear, I fear,

Boling. Can no mau tell of my unthrifty sou ! Duch. What should you fear?

'Tis full three months since I did see hiin 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd

last : into

If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day. I would to God, my lords, he might be found : York. Bound to himself ? what doth be with Inquire at Loudou, 'mongst the taverns there, a bond

For there, they say, be daily doth frequent, Tbat he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.-- With unrestrained loose companions ; Boy, let me see the writing.

Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may And beat our watch, and rob our passengers ; not show it.

While he, young, wanton, and effeminate boy, York. I will be satisfied ; let me sce it, I say. Takes on the point of honour, to support

[Snatches it, and reads. So dissolute a crew. Treason ! foul treason Imvillain ! traitor ! slave! Percy. My lord, soine two days since I saw Duch. What is the matter, my lord !

the prince ; York. Ho! who is within there ? [Enter a And told hiin of these triumphs held at OxServant.) Saddle my borse.

ford. God for his mercy! what treachery is here ! Boling. And wbat said the gallant ? Duch. Why, wbat is it, my lord ?

Percy. His answer was,- he would unto the

stews; • Carelessly turned.

+ Ever. i Tolts and touruaments.

• Breeding

383 And from the common'st creature pluck a Thou kill'st me in bis life ; giving him breath, glove

The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. And wear it as a favour ; and with that

Duch. (Within.) What ho, my liege! for
He would unborse the lustiest challenger.

God's sake let me in.

As dissolute as desperate ; yet Boling. Wbat shrill-voic'd suppliant makes through both

this eager cry? I see some sparkles of a better bope,

Duch. A woman, and thine annt, great kiug, Which elder days may happily bring forth.

'tis I.
But wbo comes here

Speak with me, pity me, open the door ;
Enter AUMERLE, hastily.

A beggar begs, that never begg'd before.

Boling. Our scene is alter'd,- from a serious Aum. Where is the king ?

thing, Boling. Wbat means

And now chang'd to The Beggar and the
Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly?

Aum. God save your grace. I do beseech My dangerous cousin, let your mother in ;
your majesty,

I know she's come to pray for your foul sin.
To have some conference with your grace alone.

York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray, Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may. bere alone.

This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound; (Ereunt PERCY and LORDS. Tbis, let alone, will all the rest confound. What is the matter with our cousin now?

Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the

[Kneels. Duch. O king, believe not this hard-hearted My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth,

man : Uuless a pardon, ere I rise or speak.

Love, loving not itself, none other can. Boling. Intended or committed, was this York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou fault ?

make + here? If but the first, how heinous ere it be,

Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear ? To win thy after-love, I pardon thee.

Duch. Sweet York, be patient : Hear me, Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn

gentle liege.

[Kneels. the key,

Boling. Rise up, good aunt,
That no inan enter till my tale be done.

Duch. Not yet, I thee beseech :
Boling. Have thy desire.

For ever will I kneel upon my knees,
[AUMERLE locks the door. And never see day that the bappy sees,
York. (Within.) My liege, beware; look to Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,

By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.

Aum. Unto my mother's prayers, I bend my Boling. Villain, I'll make thee safe.


[Kneeis. (Drawing York. Against them both, my true joints Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand;

bended be.

[Kneels. Thou hast no cause to fear.

Ill may'st thou thrive, if thou grant any grace! York. (Within.) Open the door, secure, fool

Duch. Pleads he in earnest ? look upon his hardy king : Shall 1, for love, speak treason to thy face?

His eyes do'drop no tears, his prayers are in Open the door, or I will break it open.

jest ; (BOLING BROKE opens the door. His words come from his mouth, ours from our

breast : Enter YORK.

He prays but faintly, and would be denied ;

We pray with heart, and soul, and all be. Boling. What is the matter, uncle ? speak ;

side : Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,

His weary joints would gladly rise, I know ; Tbat we may arm us to encounter it.

Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they York. Peruse this writing bere, and thou

grow; shalt know

His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ; The treason that my haste forbids me show, Our's of true zeal and deep integrity. Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy pro- Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them mise past :

have I do repent me ; read not my name there,

That mercy, wbich true prayers ought to have.
My heart is not confederate with my hand. Boling. Good annt, stand up.
York. 'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it Duch. Nay, do not say--stand up ;

But, pardon, first; and afterwards stand up.
| tore it from the traitor's bosom, king : And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
Fear, and not love, begets his penitence :

Pardon should be the first word of thy speech. Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove

I never long'd to hear a word till now; A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.

Say pardon, king; Jet pity teach thee how : Boling. O heinous, strong, and bold conspi. The word is short, but not so short as sweet ;

No word like pardon, for kings' mouths O royal father of a treacherous son!

meet. Thou sheer, immaculate, and silver fountain, York. Speak it in French, kipgi say, parFrom whence this stream through muddy pas

donnez moy. 1 sages,

Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to deHath held his current, and defil'd bimself !

stroy ; Thy overflow of good converts to bad ;

Ah! my sour busband, my hard-hearted lord, And thy abundant goodness shall excuse

That set'st the word itself against the word ? This deadly blot in thy digressing # sou.

Speak, pardon, as 'tis current in our land ; York. So shall my virtue be bis vice's The chopping French we do not understand. bawd ;

Tbine eye begins to speak, set thy tougue And he shall spend mine honour with his

there : shame,

Or, in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear; As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.

That, hearing, how our plaints and prayers do Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,

pierce, Or my sbam'd life in his disbototir lies :

Pity may piove thee, pardon to rehearse.

• An old ballad. • Transparent. + Transgressing

+ Do.

1 Excuse me.

face ;


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Boling. Good aunt, stand up.

Nor shall not be the last ; like silly beggars, Duch. I do not sue to stand,

Who, sitting in the stocks refuge their sbame, Pardon is all the suit I have in band.

That many have, and others must sit there : Boling. I pardou bim, as God shall pardon and in this thought they find a kind of ease, ine.

Bearing their own misfortune on the back Duch.

O happy vantage of a kneeling knee ! of such as have before endur'd the like, Yet am I sick for fear : speak it again;

Thus play 1, in one person, many people, Twice saying pardon, doth not pardon twain,. And none contented : Sometimes am í king ; But makes one pardon strong.

Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar, Boling. With all my heart

And so I am : Then crushing penury I pardon him.

Persuades me I was better when a king ; Duch. A god on earth thou art.

Then am I king'd again : and, by-and-by, Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law,- Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, and the abhot,

And straight am nothing :--- But, whale'er 1 am, With all the rest of that consorted crew,- Nor 1, nor any man, that but man is, Destruction straight shall dog them at the With nothing shall be pleas'd, till be be eas'd heels.

With beiug nothing.-Music do I hear ? Good uncle, help to order several powers

(Music. To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are: Ha, ha! keep time :-How sour sweet muThey shall not live within this world, I swear,

sic is, But I will have them, if I once know where. When time is broke, and no proportion kept ! Uncle, farewell,--and cousin too, adieu :

So is it in the music of men's lives. Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you And here bave I the daintiness of ear, true.

To check time broke in a disorder'd string ; Duch. Come, my old son :-! pray God make But for the concord of my state and time, thee new.

(Exeunt. Had not an ear to bear my true time broke.

| wasted time, and now doth time waste me. SCENE IV.

For now hath time made me his numb'ring

clock : Enter Exton, and a SERVANT. My thoughts are minutes ; and, with sighis, Exton. Did'st thou uot mark the king, what

they jar

(watch, words he spake ?

Their watches on to mine eyes, the outward Have I no friend will rid me of this living Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, fear ?

Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Was it not so ?

Now, Sir, the sound, that tells what hour it is, Serv. Those were his very words.

Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my Ecton. Have I no friend ? quoth he : he

heart, spake it twice,

Which is the bell: So sighs, and tears, and And org'd it twice together; did he not ?


[time Serv. He did.

Show minutes, times, and hours :- but my Exton. And, speaking it, he wistfully look’a Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy, on me :

While I stand fooling here, is Jack o'the clock. + As who should say,-1 would thou wert the This music mads me, let it sound no more; man

For, though it have holpe madmen to their That would divorce this terror from my heart ;

wits, Meaning, the king at Ponifret. Come, let's In me, it seems it will make wise men mad. go;

Yet blessing on his beart that gives it me! I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard

[Exeunt. Is a strange brooch 1 in this all-hating world. SCENE 7.-Pomfret.--The Dungeon of the

Enter Groom.

Groom. Hail, royal prince !

K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer ;
Enter King RICHARD.

The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. K. Rich. I have been studying bow I may What art thou ? and how comest thon hither, compare

Where no man never comes, but that sad dog This prison where I live, unto the world : That brings me food, to make misfortune live? And, for because the world is populous,

Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, And he is not a creature but myself,

king, I cannot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out.

When thou wert king; who, travelling towards My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;

York, My soul, the father : and these two beget With much ado, at length have gotten leave A generation of still-breeding thoughts,

To look upon my sometimes $ master's face. And these same thougbits people this little ob! how it yearu'd my heart, when I beheld, world ; t

In London streets, that coronation day,
In humours like the people of this world, When Bolingbroké rode on roan Barbary!
For no thought is contented. The better The horse, that thou so often hast bestrid;


That horse, that I so carefully bave dress'd!
As thoughts of things divine,-are intermix'd K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me,
With scruples, and do set the word itself

gentle friend, Against the word : 1

How went he under bim? As thus,-Come little ones ; and then again, Groom. So proudly, as if he disdain'd the It is as hard to come, as for a camel

ground. To thread the postern 9 of a needle's eye.

K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on Thought tending to an:bition, they do plot

his back! Unlikely wonders : how these vain weak nails That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; May tear a passage through the finty ribs This hand hath made him proud with clappiug of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;

him. And, for they cannot, die in their owu pride. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall Thoughts tending to content, flatter them.


[neck selves,

(Since pride must have a fall,) and break the That they are uot the first of fortune's slaves,

• Tick. • Forces.

+ Strike for him, like the figure + His own body. of a man on a bell.

* An ornamented buckles Holy scripture

Little gate. and also a jewel iu general. $ Foriner.

of that proud man

that did usurp bis The next news is I have to London sent back ?

The beads of Salibsury, Speucer, Blunt, and Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,

Kent : Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,

The manner of their taking may appear Was born to bear? I was not made a horse ; At large discoursed in tbis paper here. And yet I bear a burden like an ass,

[Presenting a paper. Spur-galld, and tir'd, by jauncing Boling. Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for broke.

thy pains;

And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Enter KEEPER, with a Dish. Keep. Fellow, give place; here is no longer

Enter FitzWATER. stay.

Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to [To the Groov.

Loudon K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert The heads of Brocas, and Sir Bennet Seely; away.

Two of the dangerous consorted traitors, Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. heart shall say.

(Exit. Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be Keep. My lord, will't please you to fall to ?

forgot ; K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.

do. Keep. My lord, I dare not ; Sir Pierce of Enter Percy, with the Bishop of Carlisle, Exton, who

Percy. The grand conspirator, abbot of WestLately came from the king, commands the

uninster, contrary,

With clog of conscience, and sour melancholy, K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster, Hath yielded up his body to the grave; and thee!

But here is Carlisle living to abide Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

Thy kingly doon and sentence of his pride. [Beats the KEEPER. Boling. Carlisle, this is your doom :Keep. Help, help, help!

Choose out some secret place, some reverend

room, Enter Exton, and Servants, armed.

More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life; K. Rich. How now? what means death in So, as thou liv'st in peace, die free from this rude assault ?

strife; Villain, tby own hand yields thy death's in. For though inine enemy thou hast ever been, strument.

High sparks of honour in thee bave I seen. (Snatching a weapon and killing one. Go thou, aud fil another room in heil.

Enter Exton, with ATTENDANTS bearing a (He kills another, then Exton strikes

Coffin. him down.

Exton. Great king, within this coffin I preThat hand shall burn in never-quenching

sent fire,

Thy buried fear : herein all breathless lies That staggers thus my person.--Exton, tby The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, fierce band

Richard of Bourdeaux, by me bither brought. Hath with the king's blood staiu'd the king's Boling. Exton, I thank thee not ; for thou own land.


last wrought Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on A deed of slander with thy fatal band, Wbilst my gross flesh sinks dowoward, here to. Upon my head, and all this famous land. die.

(Dies. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did Erton. As full of valour, as of royal blood :

I this deed. Roth bave I spilt ; 0 would the deed were Boling. They love not poison that do poison good!

need, For now the devil, that told me I did well, Nor do I thee ; though I did wish him dead; Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.

I hate the murderer, love him murdered. This dead king to the living king I'll bear;- The guilt of conscience take thou for thy laTake bence the rest, and give them burial here.

bour, (Exeunt. But neither my good word, nor princely fa

vour : SCENE VI.-Windsor.-A Room in the With Cain go wander through the shade of Castle.

night, Flourish. Enter BOLING BROKE, and York, Lords, I protest my soul is full of woe,

And never sbow thy head by day nor light.-with LORDS and ATTENDANTS.

Tbat blood should sprinkle me, to make me Boling. Kind uncle York, the latest news

grow : we hear

Come, mourn with me for wbat I do lament, 15-that the rebels have consum'd with fire And put on sullen black incontinent ; * Our town of Cicester in Glostershire ; (not. I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land, But whether they be ta'en, or slain, we hear To wash this blood off from my guilty Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.

March sadly after ; 'grace my mournings Welcome, my lord : What is the news ?

bere, North. First, to tby sacred state wish I all In weeping after this untimely bier. bappiness.

(Ereunt. • Jaunting

• Immediately.


It was long the prevailing opinion that Sır Piers Exton, and others of his guards, fell upon Richard in tho castle of Pomfret, where he was confined, and despatched him with their halberts. But it is more probable that he was starved to death in prison ; and it is said that he prolouged his unhappy life for a fortnight, after all sustenance was denied him, before he reached the end of his miseries.--- Hume.




LITERARY AND HISTORICAL NOTICE. SHAKSPEARE wrote this dramatic history about the year 1597, founding it upon six old plays previously pub

lished. The action commences with Hotspur's defeat of the Scots at Halidown Hill, Sep. 14, 1402 ; and closes with the defeat and death of that leader at Shrewsbury, July 21, 1403. None of Shakspeare's plays are perbaps so frequently read, as this and the one which succeeds it; but the want of ladies, and matter to interest females, lies so heavily upon it, that even with an excellent Falstaff, it can only enjoy occasional life upon the stage. The speeches of King Henry, though clothed in a fine, stately, and nervous diction, are much too long; and a deal of the humour, sparkling as it is, cannot be heard without a blush. The scene of the carriers is grossly indecent, and so very low, that it might be rejected without the sligbtest injury to the piece. The choleric Hotspur, and the mad-cap Prince of Wales, are, however, charming portraits ; great, original, and just ; exhibiting the nicest discernment in the character of mankind, and presenting a moral of very general application. But the subtle roguery of Falstaff---bis laughable soliloquies-- his whimsical investigations, --and his invincible assumption--- (the richer and more ludicrous when opposed to his sneaking cowardice) aro strokes of dramatic genius which reader this ' fat old man' the leading attraction of the play: and though his character is vicious in every respect, he is furnished with so much wit, as to be almost too great a favourite.



GADSHILL. HENRY, Prince of Wales, Sons to the Pвто. PRINCE JOHN of Lancaster, King. BARDOLPH. EARL OF WESTMORELAND,

Friends to the SIR WALTER BLUNT,


King. Thomas PERCY, Earl of Worcester.

LADY PERCY, Wise to Hotspur, and Sister

to Mortimer. HENRY PERCY, Earl of Northumberland. HENRY PERCY, surnamed Hotspur, his Son. Lady MORTIMER, Daughter to Glendower, EDWARD MORTIMER, Earl of March.

and Wife to Mortimer. SCROOP, Archbishop of York.

MRS. QUICKLY, Hostess of a Tavern in East.

ARCHIBALD, Earl of Douglas.

Lords, Officers, Sherif, Vintner, Chamber. SIR JOHN FALSTAFF.

lain, Drawers, tuo Carriers, Travellers, POINS.

and Attendants. SCENE, England.


Which,-like the meteors of a troubled beaven,

All of one nature, of one substance bred, SCENE 1.-London.-A Room in the Did lately meet in the intestine shock Palace.

And furious close of civil butchery,

Shall now, in mutual, well-beseeming ranks, Enter King HENRY, WESTMORELAND, Sir March all one way; and be no more oppos'd WALTER BLUNT, and others.

Against acquaintance, kindred, and allies : K. Hen. So shaken as we are, so wan with The edge of war, like an ill-sheathed knife, care,

No more shall cut his master. Therefore, friends, Find we a tiine for frighted peace to pant,

As far as to the sepulchre of Christ, And breathe short-winded accents of new broils (Whose soldier now, under whose blessed cross To be commenc'd in stronds • afar remote. We are impressed and engag'd to fight,) No more the thirsty Eripnys + of this soil Forthwith a power of English shall we levy ; Shall daub her lips with her own childreu's Whose arms were moulded in their mothers' blood;

womb No more shall trenching war channel her fields, To chase these pagans, in those holy fields, Nor bruige her flowrets with the armed hoofs Over whose acres walk'd those blessed feet, of hostile paces : those opposed eyes,

Wbich, fourteen hundred years ago, were nail'd

For our advantage, on tbe bitter cross. • Strand..

+ The fury of discord. But this our purpose is a twelve-month old,

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