^.uc^-^. w^. ■:^&j:^sm \ vjL.S.iUL>->- ^ViOs^J*--^-*^'-^ \|uo.J^ --v^xyP ^ 5 1 'X Copyright, 1901 By THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY COLLEGE LIBRARY THE /9 ^ TRAGEDY OF KING RICHARD II. Preface. The Early Editions. Richard II. was first published, in quarto, in 1597, in which year it was entered on the Register of the Stationers' Company. The title-page of the First Quarto was as follows : — " The Tragedie of King Richard the Second, As it hath been publikcly acted by the Right Honourabk the Lord Chainhcrlaine his Servants. London. Printed by Valentine Simmes for Andrew Wise, and are to be sold at his shop in Paules Church Yard at the signe of the Angel. 1597."* A Second Quarto, with Shakespeare's name on the title- page, was published in 1597. In the year 1608 a Third Quarto appeared, "with new additions of the Parliament Sceane, and the deposing of King Richard, as it hath been lately acted by the Kinges Majesties servants, at the Globe." The Fourth Quarto, a mere reprint of this, appeared in 161 5. The text of the play in the 1623 Folio was evidently derived from the Fourth Quarto, " corrected with some care, and prepared for stage representation. In the ' new additions of the Parliament Sceane,' it would appear that the defective text of the Quarto had been corrected from the author's MS. For this part, there- fore, the First Folio is our highest authority ; for all the * Cp. Facsimile editions of this and other Quartos by Messrs. Griggs and Praetorius. Preface THE TRAGEDY OF rest of the play the First Quarto affords the best text " (Cambridge Editors). A Fifth Quarto was pubUshed in 1634, based for the most part on the text of the Second FoUo (1633) ; its readings " in a few cases are entirely independent of pre- vious editions." The New Additions. The subject of ' the deposition of Richard 11/ was regarded with considerable suspicion to- wards the end of Queen EKzabeth's reign,* and the sup- pression of lines 154-318 in the first Scene of the fourth Act in the two editions of the play published during the Queen's lifetime must be taken in connection with cer- tain well-known incidents: — (i.) in 1599 Sir John Hay- ward was imprisoned for publishing his History of the Life and Raigne of Henry the Fourth, i.e. the story of the deposition of Richard 11. ; (ii.) in 1601, on the after- noon before the rebelHon of Essex, Merrick, one of his adherents, " with a great company of others that after- wards were all in the action, had procured to be played before them the play of deposing of King Richard the Second. Neither was it casual, but a play bespoken by Merrick"; f (iii.) it is recorded how the Queen on one occasion, probably soon after the revolt of Essex, when Lambarde, the Keeper of the Records in the Tower, was showing her his rolls, suddenly exclaimed, on coming to the Reign of Richard II.: — " I am Richard II.; know ye not that," and she told Lambarde how " this tragedy was played forty times in open streets and houses." X * In 1596 a Papal Bull was issued against the Queen, inciting her subjects to rebellion. t Bacon's " Declaration of the practices and treasons attempted and committed by Roberts, late Earl of Essex, and his complices against her Majesty and her kingdom." Cp. also State Trials, p. 1445 (ed. 1809). X Nichol's Progresses of Queen Elizabeth. z KING RICHARD II. Preface Plays on the subject of Richard II. (i.) Merrick's play was in all probability not Shakespeare's, though it is singular that the actor who provided the play was a member of the Globe Theatre, Augustine Philipps; the piece in question is described as * an obsolete tragedy ' {exoletam tragocdiam de tragic a abdicatione regis Ric. IL, according to Camden), and the players complained that " they should have loss in playing it, because few would come to it." "' (ii.) Dr. Simon Forman saw a play of Richard II. , at the Globe, on 30th April, 161 1; it dealt with the tumult of Jack Straw and the death of the Duke of Gloucester, i.e. w4th earlier events of the reign ; (i.) and (ii.) were possibly the first and second parts of a chronicle history of the whole reign of Richard IL (iii.) In 1870 Mr. T. Halliwell printed, for the first time, from the Egerton MSS. (in the British Museum), " The Tragedy of Richard IL, concluding with the murder of the Duke of Gloster at Calais " ; Mr. Halliwell claimed that the play was composed before Shakespeare's ; but this view has been rightly contested {cp. Nezv Shakespeare Society's Transactions, April loth, 1885), and in all prob- ability the production belongs to the end of the first quar- ter of the seventeenth century. The Date of Composition. The publication of the First Quarto in 1597 gives us one hint for the date of compo- sition, which may be safely assigned to about the year 1593. A noticeable piece of external evidence is perhaps to be found in the second edition of Daniel's Civil Wars, published in 1595, which contains certain striking paral- lels with Shakespeare's play not found in the earlier ver- sion. The likeness may possibly be purely accidental: * Prof. Hales considers it unlikely that there were two plays answering the same description ' in the field ' of the Globe — two plays dealing with the closing years of Richard II. (Notes and Essays on Shakespeare, p. 208). 3 Preface THE TRAGEDY OF on the other hand, we know that Daniel was addicted to the vice of plagiarism.* The relation of Richard II. to Marlowe's Edzvard II. (not earlier than 1590) throws valuable light on the date of composition. As regards versification, it is to be noted that Shakespeare broke away from Marlowe's example, and in place of a rigid use of blank verse, made free use of rhyme : no less than one-fifth of Richard II. is in rhymed verse. The proportion of rhyme cannot be taken as an absolute test in placing the piece : it may perhaps be due to an intentional experiment on Shakespeare's part to produce that ' unity of lyrical effect ' which is the play's most striking characteristic. In the avoidance of prose, however, the Marlowan precedent is still followed, as in the case of Richard III. and King lohn. A general con- sideration of the metrical tests places Richard II. between Richard III. and Henry IV., Romeo and Juliet and King John belonging to nearly the same date. But in dramatic method, no less than in versification, Shakespeare's play shows resistance of jMarlowe's influence, though the sub- ject of Richard II. may, as is very probable, have been suggested by the similar theme of Edward II. \ " The re- luctant pangs of abdicating royalty in Edward II.'' may have, in Charles Lamb's famous words, " furnished hints which Shakespeare scarcely improved in his Richard 11." Outwardly the two plays have much in common ; in tragic * Cp. " Only let him more sparingly make use Of others' wit and use his own the more, That well may scorn base imitation." — Return from Parnassus. In the second play of the trilogy the author makes it quite clear that Daniel showed at times too palpably the influence exercised upon him by Shakespeare. t It is perhaps worth while pointing out that the parallel of Edward and Richard is brought out by Hayward in his History of Henry the Fourth, where Richard's last words refer to his great-grandfather, King Edward the Second, " being in this man- ner deposed, imprisoned, and murdered," etc. KING RICHARD II. Preface pathos, arising from the colhsion of incident and char- acter, as opposed to tragic horror, Shakespeare had left his predecessor far behind. The Source of the Play. Shakespeare's main source for the historical facts of Richard II. was Holinshed's Chronicle of Englandc, Scotland, and Ireland ; probably the second edition of the work published in 1586, which alone contains the withering of the bay-trees (II. iv. 8). Stowe's Annals (1580) seems to have supplied the story of Mowbray's career in Palestine (IV. i. 97). Other sources were used by Shakespeare, but they are unknown ; neither Hall nor Holinshed states that the Bishop of Car- lisle was committed to the custody of the Abbot of West- minster. On the whole, Holinshed has been carefully followed by Shakespeare ; among the chief divergences are: — (i.) the re-creation of characters of the Queen and The meeting of Richard and Bolingbroke at Conway Castle. {Cp. Act III. iii.) From an illumination in the Metrical History of Richard II. (MS. Harl. 1319.) Preface THE TRAGEDY OF Gaunt; (ii.) the death-bed scene of Gaunt, and the depo- sition scene of Richard; (iii.) the introduction of the gardener, the servant, and the groom; (iv.) changes in historic time and place, etc. {cp. Riechelman's Ahhand- lung zu Richard II. und Holinshed). Duration of Action. The time of Richard II. covers fourteen days, with intervals ; the historic period is from 29th April, 1398, to the beginning of March, 1400, ' at which time the body of Richard, or what was declared to be such, was brought to London' {cp. Daniel's Time- Analysis, Trans. New Shakespeare Society, i%yy-yg, p. 269). KING RICHARD II. Critical Comments. I. Argument. I, Henry, surnamed Bolingbroke, eldest son of John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, in the presence of King Richard II. charges Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Nor- folk, with misappropriation of public funds and high treason. The king permits the two lords to meet in the lists to settle their dispute by deadly combat. But at the appointed time, when the charge has been sounded, the king interposes and sentences Norfolk to exile for life, while Bolingbroke is banished for six years. Richard is secretly glad thus to rid himself of Bolingbroke, whose popularity with the masses has become a menace to the throne. II, Shortly after his son's banishment, John of Gaunt dies; but has time upon his death-bed to reproach King Richard for mortgaging his realm, which the indi- gent monarch had done in order to raise funds for an Irish campaign. When Gaunt is dead, Richard unjustly confiscates his estates. Incensed by the wrong, Boling- broke makes of this a pretext for invading England dur- ing the king's absence on his campaign. Many powerful nobles flock to the standard of Bolingbroke, who an- nounces that he is but come after his inheritance of Lan- caster. III, King Richard returns from Ireland and in Flint Castle, Wales, holds parley with Bolingbroke. The lat- ter artfully protests his loyalty and merely pleads that his sentence of exile be repealed and his patrimony be Comments THE TRAGEDY OF restored to him. The powerless monarch yields, and proceeds to London -in the company of his formidable subject. IV. Arrived there, Bolingbroke reveals his true pur- pose of forcing Richard to abdicate in his favour. Rich- ard is confronted with a list of formal charges and the crown is taken from him, after which he is ordered to be conveyed to the Tower. V. Bolingbroke rides through London in triumph and is hailed as King Henry IV. One of his first acts of clemency is to pardon the son of the Duke of York, who has been found guilty of treason. Richard is removed to the Castle of Pomfret instead of to the Tower, and is put to death with the connivance of the usurping King Henry IV., who promises, as an act of penance, to make a pilgrimage to the Holy Land. McSpadden: Shakespearian Synopses. IL Richard. Shakespeare has elaborated his wonderful study of Richard. Scorn for the ruler is never allowed to obliter- ate a compassionate sympathy, enforced both by the pathetic helplessness of his fate and by a certain native exquisiteness and charm of mind. At times we seem to detect something like a calculated sequence of the two effects : the damning exposure, for instance, of the scene by Gaunt' s death-bed being followed at once by the allaying pathos of the queen's wistful forebodings for her " sweet Richard." Indeed the queen — in Holinshed a mere child of eleven — has no other raison d'etre in the drama than thus at intervals to reinforce our difficult and precarious pity for the king. His personal beauty, too, counts for something; not altogether the delicate flower-like beauty suggested by Isabelle's " my fair rose " and Hotspur's " Richard, that sweet lovely rose "; 8 KING RICHARD II. Comments for York can compare him with the paragon of EngHsh knighthood — the Black Prince — ** His face thou hast, for even so look'd he." When his action is least kingly we are reminded that he *' yet looks Hke a king." It is note- worthy, too, that the popular indignation excited by his rule is brought into prominence only in the later stages of the action, where it appears rather as an aggravation of his sufferings than as due retribution for his misrule. In the second act it is a hearsay; in the thirds after his capture, it finds expression only in the grave dialogue of the gardeners ; in the fifth it becomes at length virulent and ferocious, and the " dust thrown upon his sacred head " by the Londoners tempts us to forget what ex- cellent reasons he had given them for throwing it. With his landing in Wales (III. ii.) a new and subtle aspect of his character emerges, which belongs wholly to Shakespeare's imaginative reading of it. He is met at length by open resistance with which he is wholly unable to cope. Deprived of its despotic privilege of shaping the destiny of its subjects, his brilliant fancy turns upon itself and creates a dramatic spectacle of its own. He is humiliated, dethroned, imprisoned, and every trifling in- cident now serves as a nucleus about which he wreathes the beautiful tangles of his arabesque wit. In the two culminating scenes Shakespeare has provided such a nu- cleus by a slight variation of the historic conditions. The colloquy at Flint Castle (III. iii.) is adapted from an ac- tual interview between Richard and Northumberland alone, at Conway. The historic abdication took place privately in the Tower. Shakespeare draws Richard from prison to make a public surrender in Parliament (IV. i.). His fall, unkingly as it is, gathers distinction and dignity from the glamour of poetry which he sheds about it; and the hunters, standing silent round their stricken victim, fade for the moment into insignificance before the beautiful creature writhing in their toils. Once dethroned, Richard acquires the pathos of over- throw; while Bolingbroke, crowned, becomes a prey to Comments THE TRAGEDY OF the jealous disaffection that attends usurped power. The fifth act is a dirge over Richard and a portent of the ultimate fall of the House of Lancaster. Herford: The Eversley Shakespeare. III. YorK. York makes a great display of his loyalty; and Shake- speare appears to wish to represent him as well- meaning, but old and weak. He makes most of the chief characters treat him with respect — e.g., Richard appoints him lord governor of England during his absence, be- cause "he is just, and always loved us well." The Duchess of Gloucester speaks of him as " good old York," as also does Northumberland ; whilst the humble gardener refers to him likewise as " the good Duke of York"; but Sir Henry Irving considers his picture really that of a time-serving and plausible man; and that he betrayed in a most dastardly manner the solemn charge which had been placed in his hands as regent. (Compare Act H. Scene iii. with Act IV. Scene i. and Act V. Scene ii.) At one moment we find him boldly rebuking Richard for his faults, the next accept- ing from him the supreme ofhce of regent; and almost the next, again, betraying that trust while sternly re- buking the rebel Bolingbroke, Shortly after this homily he appears as the complaisant bearer of Richard's resig- nation, and ends by throwing himself into a paroxysm of virtuous indignation against his son Aumerle for plot- ting against the usurper Bolingbroke — even going to the length of demanding his son's execution as a rebel. In this connection Shakespeare makes him even joke upon the subject of his son's condemnation, and thus exhibit the extreme of heartlessness. Abel : King Richard II. The Swan Edition. 10 KING RICHARD II. Comments There is scarcely anything in Shakespeare in its de- gree more admirably drawn than York's character : his religious loyalty struggling with a deep grief and indig- nation at the king's follies; his adherence to his word and faith, once given in spite of all, even the most nat- ural, feelings. You see in him the weakness of old age, and the overw^helmingness of circumstances, for a time surmounting his sense of duty — the junction of both ex- hibited in his boldness in words and feebleness in im- mediate act; and then again his effort to retrieve him- self in abstract loyalty, even at the heavy price of the loss of his son. This species of accidental and adventi- tious weakness is brought into parallel with Richard's continually increasing energy of thought and as con- stantly diminishing power of acting; — and thus it is Richard that breathes a harmony and a relation into all the characters of the play. Coleridge : Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare. IV. BolingbroKe. Bolingbroke is the moving and controlling spirit of this play, the centre and spring-head of the entire action. Everything waits upon his firm-set, but noiseless potency of will, and is made alive with his most silent, all- pervading, inly-working efficacy of thought and purpose. For, though Richard be much the more prominent char- acter, this is nowise as the mover of things, but only as the receiver of movements caused by another; the effects lighting upon him, while the w^orker of them is com- paratively unseen and unheard. For the main peculiarity of Bolingbroke is that he looks solely to results, and, like a true artist and a skilful, as he is, the better to secure these, he keeps his designs and processes most carefully hidden : a thorough-paced politician, his policy, however, II Comments THE TRAGEDY OF is emphatically an art, and- he is far too deep and subtle therein to make use of any artifice; his agency thus being so stealthy and invisible, his power flowing forth so secretly, that in whatsoever he does, the thing seems to have done itself to his hand, and himself to have had no part in bringing it to pass. How intense his enthusi- asm, yet how perfect, and how imperturbable his coolness and composure! so that we might almost ask — ''Was ever breast contained so much, and made so little noise?" And then how pregnant and forcible, always, yet how calm and gentle, and at times how terrible his speech! how easily and unconcernedly the w^ords drop from him, and, therewithal, how pat and home they are to the persons for whom and the circumstances wherein they are spoken! as if his eye burned itself a passage right straight to the heart of whomsoever he looked upon, and at the same time gave out the light whereby to read whatsoever was written there. To all which add a flaming thirst of power, a most aspiring and mounting ambition, and the result explains much of his character and fortune as developed in the subsequent plays wherein he figures. For the Poet keeps him the same man throughout. So that in this play we have, done to the life, though somewhat in miniature, Avliat is after- wards drawn out and unfolded at full length — the quick, keen sagacity, the firm, steady, but easy self-control, moulding his whole action, and making everything about him bend and converge to a set purpose; — a character hard and cold indeed to the feelings, but written all over with success; which has no impulsive gushes or starts, but all is study, forecast, design, and calm suiting of means to preappointed ends, every cord and muscle being subdued to the quality of his aim, and pliant to the working of his thought. And this perfect self-command is in great part the true secret of his strange power over others, making them almost as docile and pliant to his purpose as are the cords and muscles of his own body; so that, as the event proves, he grows great by their KING RICHARD II. Comments feeding, till he can compass food enough without their help, and, if they go to hinder him, can eat them up. The main points of his character are admirably put by Hazlitt, thus: '' Patient for occasion, and then steadily availing himself of it ; seeing his advantage afar off, but only seizing on it when he has it within his reach; humble, crafty, bold, and aspiring, encroaching by regu- lar but slow degrees, building power on opinion, and cementing opinion by power." Hudson : The Works of Shakespeare. V. Gaunt. The character of old John of Gaunt, loyal to his King, but still more^to his country, gives Shakespeare his first opportunity for expressing his exultation over England's greatness and his pride in being an Englishman. He places in the mouth of the dying Gaunt a superbly lyrical outburst of patriotism, deploring Richard's reckless and tyrannical policy. All comparison with Marlowe is liere at an end. Shakespeare's own voice makes itself clearly heard in the rhetoric of this speech, which, with its self- controlled vehemence, its equipoise in unrest, soars high above Marlowe's wild magniloquence. In the thunder- ous tones of old Gaunt's invective against the King who has mortgaged his English realm, we can hear all the patriotic enthusiasm of young England in the days of Elizabeth: — " This royal throne of kings, this sceptr'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise, This fortress, built by Nature for herself, Against infection, and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, 13 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, This land of such dear souls, this dear, dear land, Dear for her reputation through the world, Is now leas'd out, I die pronouncing it, Like to a tenement, or pelting farm. England, bound in with the triumphant sea. Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds : That England, that was wont to conquer others. Hath made a shameful conquest of itself. Ah! would the scandal vanish with my life. How happy then were my ensuing death! " — (U. i.) Here we have indeed the roar of the young lion, the vibration of Shakespeare's own voice. Brandes : William Shakespeare. VI. The Queen. The queen, even in the time of prosperity, was op- pressed by a " nameless woe," and looked towards the future with a foreboding dread, i.e., with a conviction that Richard's unholy actions could lead only to misery; yet she has neither the energy nor the will to prevent that which was in her power. She is the partner of her husband's unkingly extravagance, and, at the death- bed of old Gaunt, listens tacitly to his fruitless warnings, to Richard's insulting speeches, and to his command to seize the revenues and property of the duchy of Lan- caster; therefore, she justly shares her consort's fate. Ulrici : Sliakspeare's Dramatic Art, 14 KING RICHARD II. Comments VII. Kingship and Nationality. No! Shakespeare's Kings are not, nor are meant to be, great men: rather, Httle or quite ordinary humanity, thrust upon greatness, with those pathetic results, the natural self-pity of the weak heightened in them into irre- sistible appeal to others as the net result of their royal prerogative. One after another, they seem to lie com- posed in Shakespeare's embalming pages, with just that touch of nature about them, making the whole world akin, which has infused into their tombs at Westminster a rare poetic grace. It is that irony of Kingship, the sense that it is in its happiness child's play, in its sor- rows, after all, but children's grief, which gives its finer accent to all the changeful feeling of these wonderful speeches: — the great meekness of the graceful, wild creature, tamed at last — "Give Richard leave to live till Richard die! . . ." And as sometimes happens with children he attains con- tentment finally in the merely passive recognition of superior strength, in the naturalness of the result of the great battle as a matter of course, and experiences some- thing of the royal prerogative of poetry to obscure, or at least to attune and soften men's griefs. Pater. In this play, as in King John, the central interest,_ de- spite the special title of the individual king, is still strictly national; national as expressing the difficulties of the country in the special conjuncture of such a reign as that of Richard, and combating as best it may, but at best only to fall again into turmoil and desolation. Rich- ard II. is in all his circumstances a contrast to John. His title is undoubted in seniority of birth and through long generations and successions; and acceding to the 15 Comments THE TRAGEDY OF throne a boy of eleven years old, he occupied it for twenty years and more, strong in the prestige of descent and sanctioned right. AVeakness, wantonness, and ex- travagance are unable to resist the temptation of his position and opportunities ; and private rights, common justice, public wealth and pubHc honour, are at last com- promised to an intolerable extent. The murder of the Duke of Gloucester, the administration by upstarts, to the disgust of a nobility too powerful to be neglected, the blank charters, the seizure of the inheritance of Hereford, the Irish war slackening for want of funds nevertheless, possessions won by the Black Prince basely yielded upon compromise, the realm itself let in farm, alienate alike commons and nobles; and crowning all, an individual enemy is wrought to the highest exas- peration, and that one is most injured who has all the personal and political qualifications for wielding and ordering the gathered discontent, to take advantage of a favourable moment like the absence in Ireland, and the consenting chances of delaying winds. Lloyd : Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare, He who had given old Lear, in his misery, so many noble and faithful friends, could not find one for Richard; the king had fallen, stripped and naked, into the hands of the Poet, as he fell from his throne ; and in himself alone the Poet has been obliged to seek all his resources; the character of Richard II. is, therefore, one of the pro- foundest conceptions of Shakspeare. Guizot: Shakspeare and His Times. The transitional link between the epic poem and the drama is the historic drama; that in the epic poem a pre- announced fate gradually adjusts and employs the will and the events as its instruments, whilst the drama, on the other hand, places fate and will in opposition to each other, and is then most perfect, when the victory of fate i6 KING RICHARD II. Comments is obtained in consequence of imperfections in the op- posing will, so as to leave a final impression that the fate itself is but a higher and a more intelligent will. From the length of the speeches, and the circumstance that, with one exception, the events are all historical, and presented in their results, not produced by acts seen by, or taking place before, the audience, this tragedy is ill suited to our present large theatres. But in itself, and for the closet, I feel no hesitation in placing it as the first and most admirable of all Shakespeare's purely histori- cal plays. For the two parts of Henry IV. form a spe- cies of themselves, w^hich may be named the mixed drama. The distinction does not depend on the mere quantity of historical events in the play compared with the fictions, for there is as much history in Macbeth as in Richard, but in the relation of the history to the plot. In the purely historical plays, the history forms the plot; in the mixed, it directs it ; in the rest, as Macbeth, Hamlet, Cymheline, Lear, it subserves it. But, however unsuited to the stage this drama may be, God forbid that even there it should fall dead on the hearts of jacobinized Englishmen! Then, indeed, we might say — prcEteriit gloria miindi! For the spirit of patriotic reminiscence is the all-permeating soul of this noble work. It is, per- haps, the most purely historical of Shakespeare's dramas. There are not in it, as in the others, characters intro- duced merely for the purpose of giving a greater individ- uality and realness, as in the comic parts of Henry IV., by presenting, as it were, our very selves. Shakespeare avails himself of every opportunity to effect the great object of the historic drama, that, namely, of familiar- izing the people to the great names of their country, and thereby of exciting a steady patriotism, a love of just lib- erty, and a respect for all those fundamental institutions of social Hfe which bind men together. Coleridge: Notes and Lectures upon Shakespeare, 17 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. King Richard the Second. John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster, ") , ^ ^, r^. •^ I nncles to the King. Edmund of Langley, Duke of York, ) Henry, surname d Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, son to John of Gaunt; afterwards King Henry IV. Duke of Aumerle, son to the Duke of York. Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. Duke of Surrey. Earl of Salisbury. Lord Berkeley. Bushy, \ Bagot, > servants to King Richard. Green, ) Earl of Northumberland. Henry Percy, surname d Hotspur, his son. Lord Ross. Lord Willoughby. Lord Fitzwater. Bishop of Carlisle. Abbot of Westminster. Lord Marshal. Sir Stephen Scroop. Sir Pierce of Exton. Captain of a band of Welshmen. Queen to King Richard. Duchess of Gloucester. Duchess of York. Lady attending on the QueeiL Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants. Scene: England and Wales. i8 The Tragedy of KING RICHARD II. ACT FIRST. Scene I. London. King Richard's palace. 'Enter King Richard, John of Gatmt, zuith other Nobles and Attendants. K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band. Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son, Here to make good the boisterous late appeal, Which then our leisure would not let us hear. Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? Gaunt. I have, my liege. K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him, If he appeal the duke on ancient malice; Or worthily, as a good subject should, lo On some known ground of treachery in him? Gaunt. As near as I could sift him on that argument, On some apparent danger seen in him Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice. K. Rich. Then call them to our presence ; face to face, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear The accuser and the accused freely speak: High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire. 19 . Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Enter Boliugbroke and Mozi'bray. Boling. Many years of happy days befal 20 My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! Mow. Each day still better other's happiness; Until the heavens, envying earth's- good hap, Add an immortal title to your crown! K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but flatters us. As well appeareth by the cause you come; Namely, to appeal each other of high treason. Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Alowbray? Boling. First, heaven be the record to my speech! 30 In the devotion of a subject's love. Tendering the precious safety of my prince, And free from other misbegotten hate. Come I appellant to this princely presence. Now, Thomas iNIowbray, do I turn to thee. And mark my greeting well ; for what I speak My body shall make good upon this earth, Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. Thou art a traitor and a miscreant, Too good to be so, and too bad to live, 40 Since the more fair and crystal is the sky, The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly. Once more, the more to aggravate the note. With a foul traitor's name stuf¥ I thy throat; And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move. What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove. Mow. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, 20 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. i. The bitter clamour of two eager tongues, Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain ; 50 The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this: Yet can I not of such tame patience boast As to be hush'd and nought at all to say: First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; Which else would post until it had return'd These terms of treason doubled down his throat. Setting aside his high blood's royalty, And let him be no kinsman to my liege, I do defy him, and I spit at him; 60 Call him a slanderous coward and a villain: Which to maintain I would allow him odds. And meet him, were I tied to run afoot Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, Or any other ground inhabitable, Where ever Englishman durst set his foot. Mean time let this defend my loyalty, By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie. Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage. Disclaiming here the kindred of the king; 70 And lay aside my high blood's royalty, Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except. If guilty dread have left thee so much strength As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop: By that and all the rites of knighthood else, Will I make good against thee, arm to arm. What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. Mow. I take it up ; and by that sword I swear. Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, I '11 answer thee in any fair degree, 80 21 Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Or chivalrous design of knightly trial: And when I mount, alive may I not light, If I be traitor or unjustly fight!. K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge? It must be great that can inherit us So much as of a thought of ill in him. BoUng. Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it true; ^ , That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles ik^j^wiM r In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers, 'j^B^ j The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments, ^T / Like a false traitor and injurious villain. 91 jL^Mt- I Besides I say and will in battle prove, (^jXxr>^ I Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge That ever was survey'd by English eye. That all the treasons for these eighteen years Complotted and contrived in this land , Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. olfiJoJ/L^ ' Further I say, and further will maintain A Upon his bad life to make all this good. That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death, 100 Suggest his soon-believing adversaries. And consequently, Hke a traitor coward, 1 Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of 1 blood: i Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries. Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth. To me for justice and rough chastisement; And, by the glorious worth of my descent. This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. K.Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars! Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? no Mozv. O, let my sovereign turn away his face. And bid his ears a little while be deaf, 22 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. i. Till I have told this slander of his blood, How God and good men hate so foul a liar. K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears: Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, ^ As he is but my father's brother's son , ^J/^,\,-,(iid/uy^- Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow, 'rJl^laJt^ «^ K> Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood fP • ' c ^,».^£ui^ Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize 120 The unstooping firmness of my upright soul: He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou: Free speech and fearless I to thee allow. Mozu. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart. Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest. Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers; The other part reserved I by consent. For that my sovereign liege was in my debt Upon remainder of a dear account, 130 Since last I went to France to fetch his queen: Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death, I slew him not; but to my own disgrace Neglected my sworn duty in that case. For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe. Once did I lay an ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul; But ere I last received the sacrament I did confess it, and exactly begg'd 140 Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it. This is my fault: as for the rest appeal'd. It issues from the rancour of a villain, A recreant and most degenerate traitor : 23 Act I. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Which in myself I boldly will defend; And interchangeably hurl down my gage Upon this overweening traitor's foot, To prove myself a loyal gentleman Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom. In haste whereof, most heartily I pray 150 Your highness to assign our trial day. K.Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me; Let 's purge this choler without letting blood: This we prescribe, though no physician; Deep malice makes too deep incision : Forget, forgive ; conclude and be agreed ; Our doctors say this is no month to bleed. Good uncle, let this end where it begun; We '11 calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son. Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age: 160 Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage. K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. Gaunt. When, Harry? when? Obedience bids I should not bid again. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot. Mow. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot. My life thou shalt command, but not my shame : The one my duty owes; but my fair name, Despite of death that lives upon my grave. To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. I am disgraced, impeach'd and bailed here ; 170 Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear, The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood Which breathed this poison. K.Rich. Rage must be withstood: Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame. 24 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. i. Mow. Yea, but not change his spots : take but my shame, And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, The purest treasure mortal times afford Is spotless reputation: that away, Men are but gilded loam or painted clay. A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest i8o Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Mine honour is my life; both grow in one; Take honour from me, and my life is done: Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; In that I live and for that will I die. K, Rich. Cousin, throw up your gage; do you begin. Boling. O, God defend my soul from such deep sin ! Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue 190 Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong, Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear The slavish motive of recanting fear, And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face. {Exit Gaunt. K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to command; Which since we cannot do to make you friends. Be ready, as your lives shall answer it. At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day: There shall your swords and lances arbitrate 200 The swelling difference of your settled hate: Since we can not atone you, we shall see Justice design the victor's chivalry. Lord marshal, command our officers at arms Be ready to direct these home alarms. [Exeunt. 25 Act I. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Scene II. The Duke of Lancaster's Palace. Enter John of Gaunt zvith the Duchess of Gloucester. Gaunt. Alas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood Doth more solicit me than your exclaims, To stir against the butchers of his life! But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct. Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth. Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads. Diich. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? lo Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, Were as seven vials of his sacred blood, Or seven fair branches springing from one root: Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, Some of those branches by the Destinies cut; But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester, One vial full of Edward's sacred blood, One flourishing branch of his most royal root, Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt. Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, 20 By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe. Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine ! that bed, that womb. That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee Made him a man ; and though thou livest and breathest, Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent In some large measure to thy father's death, In that thou seest thy wretched brother die. Who was the model of thy father's life. 26 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. ii. Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair: In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd, 30 Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life, Teaching" stern murder how to butcher thee: That which in mean men we intitle patience Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts. AVhat shall I say? to safeguard thine own life. The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death. Gauni. God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute. His deputy anointed in His sight, Hath caused his death : the which if wrongfully. Let heaven revenge ; for I may never lift 40 An angry arm against His minister. DiicJi. Where then, alas, may I complain myself? Gaunt. To God, the widow's champion and defence. Duch. Why, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight: O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear, That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! Or, if misfortune miss the first career. Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, 50 That they may break his foaming courser's back. And throw the rider headlong in the lists, A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford ! Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife With her companion grief must end her life. Gannt. Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry: As much good stay with thee as go with me! Duch. Yet one -word more : grief boundeth where it falls. Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: I take my leave before I have begun, 60 27 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York. Lo, this is all : — nay, yet depart not so ; Though this be all, do not so quickly go; I shall remember more. Bid him — ah, what? — With all good speed at Flashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there see But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls. Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? 69 And what hear there for welcome but my groans? Therefore commend me; let him not come there. To seek out sorrow that dwells every where. Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die: The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt. Scene III. The lists at Coventry. Enter the Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aunierle. Mar. My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? Aiim. Yea, at all points ; and longs to enter in. Mar. The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold. Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. Aiim. Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay For nothing but his majesty's approach. The trumpets sound, and the King enters with his nobles, Gaunt, BusJiy, Bagot, Green, and others. When they are set, enter Mowbray in arms, defendant, with a Herald. K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause of his arrival here in arms: 28 KING RICHARD 11. Act I. Sc. iii. Ask him his name, and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause. lO Mar. In God's name and the king's, say who thou art, And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms ; Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel : Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; And so defend thee heaven and thy valour! Mow. My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk ; Who hither come engaged by my oath — Which God defend a knight should violate! — Both to defend my loyalty and truth To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, 20 Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me ; And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, To prove him, in defending of myself, A traitor to my God, my king, and me : And as I truly fight, defend me heaven ! The trumpets sound. Enter Bolinghroke, appellant, in armour, with a Herald. K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Both who he is, and why he cometh hither Thus plated in habiliments of war ; And formally, according to our law, Depose him in the justice of his cause. 30 Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither. Before King Richard in his royal lists ? Against whom comest thou ? and what 's thy quarrel ? Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven ! Baling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, Am. I ; who ready here do stand in arms, To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, 29 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous. To God of heaven. King Richard and to me; 40 And as I truly fight, defend me heaven! Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists. Except the marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, And bow my knee before his majesty: For Mowbray and myself are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; Then let us take a ceremonious leave 50 And loving farewell of our several friends. Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your highness. And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave. K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Farewell, my blood ; which if to-day thou shed, Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. Boling. O, let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: 60 As confident as is the falcon's flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving lord, I take my leave of you; Of you, my noble cousin. Lord Aumerle; Not sick, although I have to do with death. But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet O thou, the earthly author of my blood, 30 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. iii. Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, 70 Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head. Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt, Even in the lusty haviour of his son. Gaunt. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous! Be swift like lightning in the execution; And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, 80 Fall like amazing thunder on the casque Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: Rouse up thy youthfiil blood, be valiant and live. Baling. Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive! Mow. However God or fortune cast my lot. There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, A loyal, just and upright gentleman: Never did captive with a freer heart Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, 90 More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This feast of battle with mine adversary. Most mighty liege, and my companion peers. Take from my mouth the wish of happy years : As gentle and as jocund as to jest Go I to fight; truth hath a quiet breast. K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. Order the trial, marshal, and begin. Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, 100 Receive thy lance ; and God defend the right. 31 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Baling. Strong as a tower In hope, I cry amen. Mar. Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk. First Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, On pain to be found false and recreant. To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, A traitor to his God, his king and him; And dares him to set forward to the fight. Sec. Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, no On pain to be found false and recreant, Both to defend himself and to approve Henry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; Courageously and with a free desire Attending but the signal to begin. Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set for^vard, combatants. [A charge sounded. Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, And both'return back to their chairs again: 120 Withdraw with us : and let the trumpets sound While we return these dukes what we decree. [A long flourish. Draw near, And list what with our council we have done. For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd With that dear blood which it hath fostered; And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword ; And for we think the eagle-winged pride Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,- 130 32 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. iii. With rival-hating envy, set on you To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray. And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace, And make us wade even in our kindred's blood; Therefore, we banish you our territories : You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, 140 Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields Shall not regreet our fair dominions, But tread the stranger paths of banishment. Boling. Your will be done: this must my comfort be. That sun that warms you here shall shine on me; And those his golden beams to you here lent Shall point on me and gild my banishment. K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom. Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: The sly slow hours shall not determinate 150 The dateless limit of thy dear exile; The hopeless word of ' never to return ' Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. Mozv. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege. And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: A dearer merit, not so deep a maim As to be cast forth in the common air, Have I deserved at your highness' hands. The language I have learn'd these forty years, My native English, now I must forego: 160 And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp; 33 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Or like a cunning instrument cased up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony: Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; And dull unfeeling barren ignorance Is made my gaoler to attend on me. I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, 170 Too far in years to be a pupil now: What is thy sentence then but speechless death, Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath ? K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate: After our sentence plaining comes too late. Mow. Then thus I turn me from my country's light. To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Swear by the duty that you owe to God — 180 Our part therein we banish with yourselves — To keep the oath that we administer : You never shall, so help you truth and God! Embrace each other's love in banishment; Nor never look upon each other's face; Nor never wTite, regreet, nor reconcile This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; Nor never by advised purpose meet To plot, contrive, or complot any ill 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. 190 Boling. I swear. Mow. And I, to keep all this. Boling. Norfolk, so far, as to mine enemy : — By this time, had the king permitted us, 34 KING RICHARD II. Act I. Sc. iii. One of our souls had wander d in the air, Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, As now our flesh is banish'd from this land : Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; Since thou hast far to go, bear not along The clogging burthen of a guilty soul. 200 Mow. No, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor, My name be blotted from the book of Hfe, And I from heaven banish'd as from hence! But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know; And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray; Save back to England, all the world 's my way. [Exit. K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd years 210 Pluck'd four away. [To Boliiig.] Six frozen winters spent, Return with welcome home from banishment. Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! Four lagging winters and four wanton springs End in a word: such is the breath of kings. Gaunt. I thank my liege, that in regard of me He shortens four years of my son's exile: But little vantage shall I reap thereby; For, ere the six years that he hath to spend Can change their moons and bring their times about, My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light 221 Shall be extinct with age and endless night; My inch of taper will be burnt and done, And blindfold death not let me see my son. K. Rich, Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. 35 Act I. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst give : Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow; Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; 230 Thy word is current with him for my death, But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice. Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour? Gaunt. Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. You urged me as a judge; but I had rather You would have bid me argue like a father. O, had it been a stranger, not my child. To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: A partial slander sought I to avoid, 241 And in the sentence my own life destroyed. Alas, I look'd when some of you should say, I was too strict to make mine own away; But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue Against my will to do myself this wrong. K. Rich. Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so: Six years we banish him, and he shall go. [Flourish. Exeunt King Richard and train. Aiun. Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know, From where you do remain let paper show. 250 Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride. As far as land will let me, by your side. Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? Baling. I have too few to take my leave of you. When the tongue's office should be prodigal 36 KING RICHARD II. " Act I. Sc. iii. To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time. Gaunt. What is six winters? they are quickly gone. 260 Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure. Boling. My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set The precious jewel of thy home return. Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make Will but remember me what a deal of world I wander from the jewels that I love. 270 Must I not serve a long apprenticehood To foreign passages, and in the end. Having my freedom, boast of nothing else But that I was a journeyman to grief? Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits Are to a wise man ports and happy havens. Teach thy necessity to reason thus; There is no virtue like necessity. Think not the king did banish thee, But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit, 280 Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour And not the king exiled thee; or suppose Devouring pestilence hangs in our air And thou art flying to a fresher clime: Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it To He that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest: Suppose the singing birds musicians, » 37 Act I. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd, The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more 290 Than a deHghtful measure or a dance; For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite The man that mocks at it and sets it light. Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand By thinking on the frosty Caucasus? Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite By bare imagination of a feast? Or wallow naked in December snow By thinking on fantastic summer's heat? .0, no! the apprehension of the good 300 Gives but the greater feeling to the worse: Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore. Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I '11 bring thee on thy way : Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! Where'er I wander, boast of this I can. Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Enghshman. {Exeunt. J ^5c^ Enter John of Gaunt sick, zvith the Duke of York, &c. . q Gaunt. Will the king come, that I may breathe my last Uj^a^SicxsuA In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth? fvAJi^Vuoouu»&a*I York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breatn^"^*^^^^ For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. Vfe % x^ i.ii>5?kA^^vA '^^ Gaunt. O, but they sav the tongues of dving m^^^^^^'^'^f'^.l^^ Enforce attention 'like deep harmony: "^^^^Tl.^^^^r^ Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent m A^ain^V^^'J" For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.^ jv. ^*^ He that no more must say is listened more 9 p — - Than they whom youth and ease have taughtlxfis^Jx^aMlW glose ; Vckjjujlo^ ;iajoc^ More*are men's ends mark'd than their lives before i-Jxxmj ■ The setting sun, and music at the close, €«i^i^T«^Wt.«^ioL OqljiS^ As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest XdiSi^K.^^^m^^^^'^ f^^L^oJ Writ in remembrance more than things long past: ^ KjaS" Though Richard my life's counsel would not ^^^^^Z^;^^ ©e*- My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. ^T^^^ t\^ York. No; it is stopp'd w^ith other flattering sounds, W • As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond, ^ T*^^^*'*/JC!c. Divides one thing entire to many objects; ^ ^'-Ca* Like perspectives, which, rightly gazed upon, Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry, Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, 20 Looking awry upon your lord's departure, SI Act II. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail ; Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, More than your lord's departure weep not: more 's not seen; Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye. Which for things true weeps things imaginary. Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be, I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad, 30 As, though on thinking on no thought I think, Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. Queen. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived From some forefather grief; mine is not so, For nothing hath begot my something grief; Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: 'Tis in reversion that I do possess; But what it is, that is not yet known ; what I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot. 40 Enter Green. Green. God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen: I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. Queen. Why hopest thou so ? 'tis better hope he is ; For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope: Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd? Green. That he, our hope, might have retired his power. And driven into despair an enemy's hope. Who strongly hath set footing in this land: The banish'd BoHngbroke repeals himself, And with uplifted arms is safe arrived 50 52 KING RICHARD 11. Act II. Sc. ii. At Ravenspurgh. Queen. Now God in heaven forbid! Green. Ah madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy, The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland And all the rest revolted faction traitors? Green. We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship. And all the household servants fled with him 60 To Bolingbroke. Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy. And I, a gasping, new-deHver'd mother, Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. Bushy. Despair not, madam. Queen. Who shall hinder me? I will despair, and be at enmity With cozening hope: he is a flatterer, A parasite, a keeper back of death, 70 Who gently would dissolve the bands of life. Which false hope lingers in extremity. Enter York. Green. Here comes the Duke of York. Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck; O, full of careful business are his looks! Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words. York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: 53 Act II. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Where nothing Hves but crosses, cares and grief. Your husband, he is gone to save far oflf, 80 Whilst others come to make him lose at home: Here am I left to underprop his land, Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came. Yo7'k. He was? Why, so! go all which way it will! The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side. Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester; Bid her send me presently a thousand pound: 91 Hold, take my ring. Serz'. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship, To-day, as I came by, I called there; But I shall grieve you to report the rest; York. What is 't, knave? Serz'. An hour before I came, the duchess died. York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! I know not what to do: I would to God, 100 So my untruth had not provoked him to it, The king had cut off my head with my brother's. What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland? How shall we do for money for these wars? Come, sister, — cousin, I would say, — pray, pardon me. Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts 54 KING RICHARD II. Act II. Sc. ii. And bring away the armour that is there. [Exit Servant. Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know how or which way to order these affairs Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, no Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen : The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend ; the other again Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd. Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I '11 Dispose of you. Gentlemen, go, muster up your men, And meet me presently at Berkeley. I should to Plashy too ; 120 But time will not permit : all is uneven, And everything is left at six and seven. [Exeunt York and Queen. Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, But none returns. For us to levy powxr Proportionable to the enemy Is all unpossible. Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love Is near the hate of those love not the king. Bagot. And that 's the wavering commons : for their love Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them 130 By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd. Bagot. If judgement lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king. Green. Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle : The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. 55 Act II. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Bushy. Thither will I with you : for Httle office The hateful commons will perform for us, Except like curs to tear us all to pieces. Will you go along with us ? 140 Bagot. No; I will to Ireland to his majesty. Farewell : if heart's presages be not vain, We three here part that ne'er shall meet again. Bushy. That 's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke. Green. Alas, poor duke ! the task he undertakes Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry: Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever. Bushy. Well, we may meet again. Bagot. I fear me, never. [E, re lint. Scene III. Wilds in Gloucestershire. Enter Bolingbroke and Northumberland, zi'ith Forces. Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now? North. Believe me, noble lord, I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire : These high wild hills and rough uneven ways Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisomie ; And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable. But I bethink me what a weary way From Ravenspurgh to Cots wold will be found In Ross and Wllloughby, wanting your company, Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled 1 1 The tediousness and process of my travel : 56 KING RICHARD II. Act II. Sc. iii. But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have The present benefit which I possess; And hope to joy is httle less in joy Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done By sight of what I have, your noble company. Boling. Of much less value is my company Than your good words. But who comes here? 20 Enter Henry Percy. North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever. Harry, how fares your uncle? Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you. North. Why, is he not with the queen? Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court. Broken his staff of office and dispersed The household of the king. North. What was his reason? He was not so resolved when last we spake together. Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor. 30 But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh, To offer service to the Duke of Hereford, And sent me over by Berkeley, to discover What power the Duke of York had levied there; Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh. North. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy? Percy. No, my good lord, for that is not forgot Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge, I never in my life did look on him. North. Then learn to know him now; this is the duke. 57 Act II. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service, 41 Such as it is, being tender, raw and young; Which elder days shall ripen and confirm To more approved service and desert. Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure I count myself in nothing else so happy As in a soul remembering my good friends; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, It shall be still thy true love's recompense : My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. North. How far is it to Berkeley? and what stir 51 Keeps good old York there with his men of war ? Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard ; And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Sey- mour; None else of name and noble estimate. Enter Ross and Willonghhy. North. Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby, Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. Boling. Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues A banish'd traitor: all my treasury 60 Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd Shall be your love and labour's recompense. Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. Willo. And far surmounts our labour to attain it. Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor; Which, till my infant fortune comes to years. Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? Enter Berkeley. North. It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess. 58 KING RICHARD II. Act II. Sc. iii. Berk. My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you. Baling. My lord, my answer is — to Lancaster; 70 And I am come to seek that name in England; And I must find that title in your tongue. Before I make reply to aught you say. Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning To raze one title of your honour out: To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will, From the most gracious regent of this land. The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on To take advantage of the absent time And fright our native peace with self-born arms. 80 Enter York attended. Baling. I shall not need transport my words by you; Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle! [Kneels. Yark. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee. Whose duty is deceivable and false. Baling. My gracious uncle ! York. Tut, tut! Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle: I am no traitor's uncle; and that word ' grace ' In an ungracious mouth is but profane. Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs 90 Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground? But then more ' why ? ' why have they dared to march So many miles upon her peaceful bosom, Frighting her pale-faced villages with war And ostentation of despised arms? Comest thou because the anointed king is hence? Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, 59 Act II. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF And in my loyal bosom lies his power. Were I but now the lord of such hot youth As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself loo Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men, From forth the ranks of many thousand French, O, then how quickly should this arm of mine, Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee And minister correction to thy fault! Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault: On what condition stands it and wherein? York. Even in condition of the worst degree, In gross rebellion and detested treason: - j Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come i lo ^ Before the expiration of thy time, ^ In braving arms against thy sovereign. ^^ling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford; But as I come, I come for Lancaster. And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye : You are my father, for methinks in you I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father, Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd A wandering vagabond ; my rights and royalties 120 Pluck'd from my arms perforce and given away To upstart unthrifts ? Wherefore was I bom ? If that my cousin king be King of England, It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster. You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin; Had you first died, and he been thus trod down, He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father, To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay. I am denied to sue my livery here, 60 KIN-G RICHARD II. Act II. Sc. iii. And yet my letters-patents give me leave : 130 My father's goods are all distrain 'd and sold; And these and all are all amiss employ'd. What would you have me do? I am a subject, And I challenge law : attorneys are denied me ; \ And therefore personally I lay my claim \ To my inheritance of free descent. North. The noble duke hath been too much abused. Ross. It stands your grace upon to do him right. Willo. Base men by his endowments are made great. York. My lords of England, let me tell you this : 140 ' I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs And labour'd all I could to do him right ; But in this kind to come, in braving arms. Be his own carver and cut out his way, To find out right with wTong, it may not be ; And you that do abet him in this kind Cherish rebellion and are rebels all. North. The noble duke hath sworn his coming is But for his own ; and for the right of that We all have strongly sworn to give him aid ; 150 And let him ne'er see joy that breaks that oath ! York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms : I cannot mend it, I must needs confess. Because my power is weak and all ill left : But if I could, by Him that gave me life, I would attach you all and make you stoop Unto the sovereign mercy of the king ; But since I cannot, be it known to you I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well ; Unless you please to enter in the castle 160 And there repose you for this night. 61 A Act II. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept : But we must win your grace to go with us To Bristol castle, which they say is held By Bushy, Bagot and their complices. The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away. York. It may be I will go with you : but yet I '11 pause ; For I am loath to break our country's laws. * Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are : 170 Things past redress are now with me past care. [Exeunt l),^,ju^>c<^ i^I^ISr^ ^'^^-^^.^ T/TEnter Salisbury ana a Welsh Captain. ' ^ Caff. My Lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd ten days, And hardly kept our countrymen together. And yet we hear no tidings from the king ; Therefore we will disperse ourselves : farewell. Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman : The king reposeth all his confidence in thee. Cap. 'Tis thought the king is dead ; we will not stay. The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd. And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven ; The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth, 10 And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change ; Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap. The one in fear to lose what they enjoy. The other to enjoy by rage and war: These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. Farewell : our countrymen are gone and fled. As well assured Richard their king is dead. [Exit. 62 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. i. Sal. Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind I see thy glory hke a shooting star Fall to the base earth from the firmament. 20 Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, Witnessing storms to come, woe and unrest : Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes, And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. [Exit. n . ACT THIRD, .^.^^^o^^^^^/j^ Scene I./^^^-W f^^^ Bristol ^^^orethelcastl^:^Qj^^^ Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Ross, f Percy, Willoughby, with Bushy and Green, (^^xjL'^-culj^ prisoners. ^^^^^ .tu^UoAUu Baling. Bring forth these men. U^ t ^h^€uS^ Ux ^ Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls — ^^Lfi^xje-^LAl/' Since presently your souls must part your bodies-^ -^ With too much urging your pernicious Uves, For 'twere no charity ; yet, to wash your blood From off my hands, here in the view of men I will unfold some causes of your deaths You have misled a prince^ a royal king, A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments, By you unhappied and disfigured clean ; 10 You have in manner with your sinful hours Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him. Broke the possession of a royal bed And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth, 63 Act III. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Near to the king in blood, and near in love Till you did make him misinterpret me. Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries, And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds, 20 Eating the bitter bread of banishment ; Whilst you have fed upon my signories, Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods, From my own windows torn my household coat, Razed out my impress, leaving me no sign, Save men's opinions and my living blood, To show the world I am a gentleman. This and much more, much more than twice all this, Condemns you to the death. See them deliver'd over To execution and the hand of death. 30 Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death to me Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell. Green. My comfort is that heaven will take our souls And plague injustice with the pains of hell. Boling. My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd. [Exeunt Northumberland and others, with the prisoners. Uncle, you say the queen is at your house ; For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated : Tell her I send to her my kind commends ; Take special care my greetings be deliver'd. York, A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd 40 With letters of your love to her at large. Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away, To fight with Glendower and his complices : Awhile to work, and after holiday. [Exeunt. 64 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. n. Scene II. ^^'^y^i^Aj^J^ o^LyouccL^'l' The coast of IV ales. A castle in view, ^^ ^,, ^^ f) * j Drums: flourish and colours. Enter King Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, and Soldiers. Xi,^d6u> J^€. — K. Rich. Barkloughly castle call they this at hand? lu dduu^ ,' ^jiji' Aum. Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air, fn ^ After your late tossing on the breaking seas ? k/oilu! df K. Rich. Needs must I like it well : I weep for l^Y I }^ Q y To stand upon my kingdom once again. i^ucuiix. ^ilojj*^ Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, y jtJieg. (f(3-&z, i^ Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoo^ r. As a long-parted mother with her child i^?^»'/tLJi li^ Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting, 4- So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth, lo And do thee favours with my royal hands. / Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, ^ Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense ; Q M-n But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, "^ * And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way. Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet Which with usurping steps do trample thee : Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies ; And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower. Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder, 20 Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies. Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords : This earth shall have a feeling and these stones Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms. Car. Fear not, my lord : that Power that made you king Act III. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Hath power to keep you king in spite of all. The means that heaven yields must be embraced, And not neglected ; else, if heaven would, 30 And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse. The proffer'd means of succour and redress. Aiim. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss ; Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, Grows strong and great in substance and in power. K, Rich. Discomfortable cousin ! know'st thou not That when the searching eye of heaven is hid, Behind the globe, that lights the lower world. Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen In murders and in outrage, boldly here ; 40 But when from under this terrestrial ball He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines And darts his light through every guilty hole. Then murders, treasons and detested sins, The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs. Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves ? So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke, Who all this while hath revell'd in the night. Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes, Shall see us rising in our throne, the east, 50 His treasons w411 sit blushing in his face, Not able to endure the sight of day. But self-affrighted tremble at his sin. Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king ; The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord : For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown, 6S KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. ii. God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay 60 A glorious angel : then, if angels fight, Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right. Enter Salisbury. Welcome, my lord : how far off lies your power ? Sal. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, Than this weak arm : discomfort guides my tongue And bids me speak of nothing but despair. One day too late, I fear me, noble lord, Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth : O, call back yesterday, bid time return, And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men ! To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late, 71 O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune and thy state : For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead. Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and fled. Aum. Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale? K. Rich. But now the blood of twenty thousand men Did triumph in my face, and they are fled ; And, till so much blood thither come again. Have I not reason to look pale and dead ? All souls that will be safe, fly from my side, 80 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 coward majesty! thou sleepest. Is not the king's name twenty thousand names ? Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes At thy great glors-. Look not to the ground, Ye favourites of a king : are we not high ? High be our thoughts : I know my uncle York 67 Act III. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here? 90 Enter Scroop. Scroop. More health and happiness betide my Hege Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him ! K. Rich. Mine ear is open and my heart prepared : 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 '11 serve Him too and be his fellow so : Revolt our subjects ? that we cannot mend ; 100 They break their faith to God as well as us : Cry woe, destruction, ruin and 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, As if the world were all dissolved to tears. So high above his limits swells the rage Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land no With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel. White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps Against thy majesty ; boys, with women's voices, Strive to speak big and clap their female joints In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown : Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows Of double-fatal yew against thy state ; Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills 68 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. ii. Against thy seat : both young and old rebel. And all goes worse than I have power to tell. 120 K. Rich. Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill. Where is the Earl of Wiltshire ? where is Bagot ? What is become of Bushy ? where is Green ? That they have let the dangerous enemy Measure our confines with such peaceful steps ? If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it : 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 ! 130 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, graved in the hollow ground. 140 Aum. Is Bushy, Green and the Earl of Wiltshire dead? Scroop. Ay, 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 ; Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth. Let 's choose executors and talk of wills : 69 Act III. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF And yet not so, for what can we bequeath Save our deposed bodies to the ground? 150 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 serves as paste and cover to our bones. For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground And tell sad stories of the death of kings : How some have been deposed ; some slain in war ; Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed ; Some poison'd by their wives; some sleeping kill'd; All murder'd : for within the hollow crown 160 That rounds the mortal temples of a king Keeps Death his court, and there the antic sits ScofiBng his state and grinning at his pomp. Allowing him a breath, a little scene. To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks, Infusing him with self 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 Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king ! Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood 171 With solemn reverence: throw awa5' respect. Tradition, form and ceremonious duty. For you have but mistook me all this while : I live with bread like you, feel want. Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, How can you say to me, I am a king ? Car. 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, 180 70 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. ii. Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe, And so your follies fight against yourself. Fear, and be slain; no worse can come to fight: And fight and die is death destroying death; Where fearing dying pays death servile breath. Aum. i\Iy father hath a power ; inquire of him. And learn to make a body of a limb. K.Rich. Thou chidest me well: proud Bohngbroke, I com.e To change blows with thee for our day of doom. This ague fit of fear is over-blown; 190 An easy task it is to win our own. Say, Scroop, where lies your uncle with his power? Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour. 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 say. I play the torturer, by small and small To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken: Your uncle York is join'd with Bohngbroke, 200 And all your northern castles yielded up, And all your southern gentlemen in arms Upon his party. K. Rich. Thou hast said enough. Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth [To An merle. Of that sweet way I was in to despair ! What say you now? what comfort have we now? By heaven, I '11 hate him everlastingly That bids me be of comfort any more. Go to FHnt castle: there I '11 pine away; 71 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey, 210 That power I have, discharge; and let them go To ear the land that hath some hope to grow, For I have none: let no man speak again To alter this, for counsel is but vain. Aum. My liege, one word. K. Rich. He does me double wrong That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. Discharge my followers : let them hence away, From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. J^^yc^^^y^ Scene III. f) fl r) Wales. Before Flint castle. n ' Enter, ivith drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York, -^((MmJ^ Northumberland, Attendants, and forces. ^^J^^^Bolmg. So that by this intelligence we learn ^.^^ The Welshmen are dispersed; 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 ; only to be brief, Left I his title out. York. The time hath been, 10 Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, For taking so the head, your whole head's length. 72 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. iii. Boling. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. York. Take not, good cousin, further than you should, Lest you mistake 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? 20 Percy. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord. Against thy 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 yon Hme and stone: • And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn. North. O, behke it is the Bishop of Carlisle. 30 Boling. Noble lords. Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle; Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver: Henry Bolingbroke On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand And send allegiance and true faith of heart To his most royal person; hither come Even at his feet to lay my arms and power, Provided that my banishment repeal'd 40 And lands restored again be freely granted: If not, I '11 use the advantage of my power And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood 73 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen : The which, how far off from the mind of BoUngbroke It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land, My stooping duty tenderly shall show. Go, signify as much, while here we march Upon the grassy carpet of this plain. 50 Let's march without the noise of threatening drum. That from this castle's tatter'd battlements Our fair appointments may be well perused. Methinks King Richard and myself should meet With no less terror than the elements Of fire and water, when their thundering shock At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. Be he the fire, I '11 be the yielding water: The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain My waters ; on the earth, and not on him. 60 March on, and mark King Richard how he looks. Parley zvifhout, and ansiver zvifhi}!. Then a flourish. Enter on the zialls King Riehard, the Bishop of Car- lisle, Aiunerle, Scroop, and Salisbury. See, see. King Richard doth himself appear, As doth the blushing discontented sun From out the fiery portal of the east, When he perceives the envious clouds are bent To dim his glory and to stain the track Of his bright passage to the Occident. York. Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye, As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth Controlling majesty: alack, alack, for woe, 70 That any harm should stain so fair a show! 74 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. iii. K. Rich. We are amazed ; and thus long have we stood To watch the fearful bending of thy knee, [To North. Because we thought ourself thy lawful king: And if we be, how dare thy joints forget To pay their awful duty to our presence? If we be not; show us the hand of God That hath dismiss'd us from our stewardship; For well we know, no hand of blood and bone Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre, 80 Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp. And though you think that all, as you have done, Have torn their souls by turning them from us, And we are barren and bereft of friends; Yet know, my master, God omnipotent, Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike Your children yet unborn and unbegot, That lift your vassal hands against my head. And threat the glory of my precious crown. 90 Tell Bolingbroke— for yond methinks he stands— That every stride he makes upon my land Is dangerous treason: he is come to open The purple testament of bleeding war; • But ere the crown he looks for live in peace, Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons Shall ill become the flower of England's face, Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace To scarlet indignation, and bedew Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. 100 North. The king of heaven forbid our lord the king Should so with civil and uncivil arms Be rush'd upon ! Thy thrice noble cousin 75 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Harry Bolingbroke doth humbly kiss thy hand ; And by the honourable tomb he swears. That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones, And by the royalties of both your bloods, Currents that spring from one most gracious head, And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt, And by the worth and honour of himself, no Comprising all that may be sworn or said, His coming hither hath no further scope Than for his lineal royalties, and to beg Enfranchisement immediate on his knees: Which on thy royal party granted once, His glittering arms he will commend to rust, His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart To faithful service of your majesty. This swears he, as he is a prince, is just; And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him. 120 K. Rich. Northumberland, say thus the king returns : His noble cousin is right welcome hither ; And all the number of his fair demands Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction. With all the gracious utterance thou hast. Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends. We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not, [To Aumerle. To look so poorly and to speak so fair ? Shall we call back Northumberland, and send Defiance to the traitor, and so die? 130 Aum. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words. Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords. K. Rich. O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine. That laid the sentence of dread banishment 76 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. iii. On yon proud man, should take it off again With words of sooth! O that I were as great As is my grief, or lesser than my name! Or that I could forget what I have been, Or not remember what I must be now! Swell'st thou, proud heart! I '11 give thee scope to beat, 140 Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me. Atim. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. K.Rich. What must the king do now? must he submit? The king shall do it: must he be deposed? The king shall be contented : must he lose The name of king? o' God's name let it go: I '11 give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage. My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figured goblets for a dish of wood, 150 My sceptre for a palmer's walking-staff. My subjects for a pair of carved saints. And my large kingdom for a little grave; A little little grave, an obscure grave; Or I '11 be buried in the king's highway. Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet May hourly trample on their sovereign's head; For on my heart they tread now whilst I live; And buried once, why not upon my head? Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin! We '11 make foul weather with despised tears; 161 Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn, And make a dearth in this revolting land. Or shall we play the wantons with our woes, And make some pretty match with shedding tears? 77 Act III. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF As thus, to drop them still upon one place, Till they have fretted us a pair of graves Within the earth ; and, therein laid, — there lies Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes. Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see 170 I talk but idly, and you laugh at me. Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland, What says King Bolingbroke? will his majesty Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay. North. My lord, in the base court he doth attend To speak with you; may it please you to come down. K. Rich. Down, down I come; like glistering Phceton, Wanting the manage of unruly jades. In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base, 180 To come at traitors' calls and do them grace. In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king! For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. [Exeunt from above. Boling. What says his majesty? North. Sorrow and grief of heart Makes him speak fondly, Hke a frantic man: Yet he is come. Enter King Richard and his attendants below. Boling. Stand all apart. And show fair duty to his majesty. [He kneels dozvn. My gracious lord, — K. Rich. Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee 190 To make the base earth proud with kissing it: 78 KING RICHARD lU Act III. Sc. iv. Me rather had my heart might feel your love Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy. Up, cousin, up ; your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, although your knee be low. Baling. j\Iy gracious lord, I come but for mine own. K. Rich. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. Boling. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, As my true service shall deserve your love. K. Rich. Well you deserve : they well deserve to have, That know the strong'st and surest way to get. 201 Uncle give me your hands: nay, dry your eyes; Tears show their love, but want their remedies. Cousin, I am too young to be your father. Though you are old enough to be my heir. What you will have I '11 give, and willing too ; For do we must what force will have us do. Set on towards London, cousin, is it so? Boling. Yea, my good lord. K. Rich. Then I must not say no. [Flourish. Exeunt. Scene IV. Uc^tu^ UsiMel^ 4^ Langley. The Duke of York's garden./, I ] Enter the Queen and two Ladies. //] Tj^^f^^^^Cus Queen. What sport shall we devise here in ihii garden, ^^ ■ H. vv iiai bpui L biiau we ucvisc iici c 111 this garden, /^// To drive away the heavy thought of care? Q/<^J-(^ta.([l(7, Lady. Madam, we '11 play at bowls. q^ (Jjuad-P ' Queen. 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs. And that my fortune runs against the bias. ^n^ Lady. Madam, we '11 dance. Queen. My legs can keep no measure in delight, 79 Act III. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief: Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport. Lady. Madam, we '11 tell tales. lo Queen. Of sorrow or of joy? Lady. Of either, madam. Queen. Of neither, girl : For if of joy, being altogether wanting, It doth remember me the more of sorrow; Or if of grief, being altogether had, It adds more sorrow to my want of joy: For what I have I need not to repeat; And what I want it boots not to complain. Lady. Madam, I '11 sing. Queen. 'Tis well that thou hast cause; But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou weep. Lady. I could weep, madam, would it do you good. 21 Queen. And I could sing, would weeping do me good. And never borrow any tear of thee. Enter a Gardener, and tzvo Servants. But stay, here come the gardeners: Let 's step into the shadow of these trees. My wretchedness unto a row of pins, They '11 talk of state; for every one doth so Against a change; woe is forerun with woe. [Queen and Ladies retire. Card. Go, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks. Which, like unruly children, make their sire 30 Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight: Give some supportance to the bending twigs. Go thou, and like an executioner. Cut ofif the heads of too fast growing sprays, 80 KING RICHARD II. Act III. Sc. iv. That look too lofty In our commonwealth: All must be even in our government. You thus employ'd, I will go root away The noisome weeds, which without profit suck The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. Serv. Why should we in the compass of a pale 40 Keep law and form and due proportion, Showing, as in a model, our firm estate. When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers choked up. Her fruit-trees all unpruned, her hedges ruin'd, Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs Swarming with caterpillars? Gard. Hold thy peace: He that hath sufifer'd this disorder'd spring Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf: The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter, 50 That seem'd in eating him to hold him up, Are plucked up root and all by BoHngbroke; I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. Serv. What, are they dead? Gard. They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees, Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood. With too much riches it confound itself: 60 Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have lived to bear and he to taste Their fruits of duty: superfluous branches 81 Act III. Sc. iv. THE TRAGEDY OF We lop away, that bearing boughs may live: Had he done so, himself had borne the crown, Which waste of idle hours had quite thrown down. Scrv. What, think you then the king shall be deposed? Gard. Depress'd he is already, and deposed 'Tis doubt he will be : letters came last night To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's, 70 That tell black tidings. Queen. O, I am press'd to death through want of speak- ing! [Coming forward. Thou, old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden. How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this un- pleasing news ? What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee To make a second fall of cursed man? Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed? Barest thou, thou little better thing than earth, Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how, Camest thou by this ill tidings? speak, thou wretch. Gard. Pardon me, madam: little joy have I 81 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 will find it so; 90 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, 82 KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. 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 BoHngbroke? Gardener, for telling me these news of woe, lOO Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow. [Exeunt Qitccn and Ladies. Card. Poor queen! so that thy state might be no worse, I would my skill were subject to thy curse. Here did she fall a tear; here in this place I '11 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 ACT FOURTH. Scene I. Westminster Hall. Enter as to the Parliament, BoHngbroke, Aumerle, Nor- thumberland, Percy, Fitzivater, Surrey, the Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of Westminster, and another Lord, Herald, Officers, and Bagot. Baling. Call forth Bagot. Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind; What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death; Who wrought it with the king, and who performed The bloody office of his timeless end. Bagot. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle. 83 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man. Bagot. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd. In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted, lo I heard you say, ' Is not my arm of length, That reacheth from the restful English court As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head ? ' Amongst much other talk, that very time, I heard you say that you had rather refuse The offer of an hundred thousand crowns Than Bolingbroke's return to England; 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? 20 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 slanderous 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. 30 Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence that hath moved me so. Fits. If that thy valour stand on sympathy, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine: By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spakest it, 84 KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester'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. 40 Aiim. Thou darest not, coward, live to see that day. Fif2, Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. Awn. 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 darest. Aum. An if I do not, may my hands rot ofif. And never brandish more revengeful steel 50 Over the glittering helmet of my foe! Another Lord. I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle; And spur thee on with full as many lies As may be hoUoa'd in thy treacherous ear From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn; Engage it to the trial, if thou darest. Aiim. Who sets me else? by heaven, I '11 throw at all: I have a thousand spirits in one breast. To answer twenty thousand such as you. Surrey. My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well 60 The very time Aumerle and you did talk. Fit:^. 'Tis very 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 He so heavy on my sword, 85 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF 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 skull: In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn ; 70 Engage it to the trial, if thou darest. 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, Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal: Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say, 80 That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men To execute the noble duke at Calais. Aiiin. Some honest Christian trust me with a gage, That Norfolk lies : here do I throw down this, If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour. Boling. These dififerences shall all rest under gage Till Norfolk be repeal'd : repeal'd he shall be, And, though mine enemy, restored again To all his lands and signories: when he 's return'd, Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial. 90 Car. That honourable day shall ne'er be seen. Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field, Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; And toil'd with works of war, retired himself To Italy; and there at Venice gave His body to that pleasant country's earth, 86 KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. And his pure soul unto his captain Christ, Under whose colours he had fought so long. loo Boling. Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead? Car. As surely as I live, my lord. Boling. Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom Of good old Abraham ! Lords appellants, Your differences shall all rest under gage Till we assign you to your days of trial. Enter York, attended. York. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand: i lo Ascend his throne, descending now from him; And long live Henry, fourth of that name! Boling. In God's name, I '11 ascend the regal throne. Car. Marry, God forbid! Worst in this royal presence may I speak, Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth. Would God that any in this noble presence Were enough noble to be upright judge Of noble Richard! then true noblesse would Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong. 120 What subject can give sentence on his king? And who sits here that is not Richard's subject? Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear, Although apparent guilt be seen in them; And shall the figure of God's majesty, His captain, steward, deputy elect, Anointed, crowned, planted many years. Be judged by subject and inferior breath, 87 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God, That in a Christian cHmate souls refined 130 Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king. My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king, Is a ioul traitor to proud Hereford's king: And if you crown him, let me prophesy ; The blood of EngHsh shall manure the ground. And future ages groan for this foul act; Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels. And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars 140 Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound; Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd The field of Golgotha, and dead men's skulls. O, if you raise this house against this house, It will the woefullest division prove That ever fell upon this cursed earth. Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, Lest child, child's children, cry against you ' woe ! ' North. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains. Of capital treason we arrest you here. 151 My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge To keep him safely till his day of trial. May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit ? Baling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view He may surrender; so we shall proceed Without suspicion. York. I will be his conduct. [Exit. Boling. Lords, you that here are under our arrest, Procure your sureties for your days of answer. KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. Little are we beholding to your love, i6o And little look'd for at your helping hands. Re-enter York, zvith Richard, and Officers hearing the regalia. K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king. Before I have shook off the regal thouglits Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs: Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me To this submission. Yet I well remember The favours of these men: were they not mine? Did they not sometime cry ' all hail ! ' to me ? So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve, 170 Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none. God save the king! Will no man say amen? Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen. God save the king! although I be not he; And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me. To do what service am I sent for hither? York. To do that office of thine own good will Which tired majesty did make thee offer. The resignation of thy state and crown To Henry Bolingbroke. 180 K.Rich. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown; Here cousin; On this side my hand, and on that side yours. Now is this golden crown like a deep well That owes two buckets, filling one another, The emptier ever dancing in the air, 8g Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF The other down, unseen and full of water: That bucket down and full of tears am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. Boling. I thought you had been willing to resign. 190 K. Rich. ]\Iy crown I am ; but still my griefs are mine : You may my glories and my state depose, But n©t my griefs ; still am I a king of those. Bolhig. Part of your cares you give me with your crown. K. Rich. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. My care is loss of care, by old care done; Your care is gain of care, by new care won: The care I give, I have, though given away; They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay. Boling. Are you contented to resign the crown? 200 K. Rich. Ay, no ; no, ay ; for I must nothing be ; Therefore no no, for I resign to thee. Now mark me, how I will undo myself: I give this heavy weight from of¥ my head And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand. The pride of kingly sway from out my heart; With mine own tears I wash away my balm. With mine own hands I give away my crown, With mine own tongue deny my sacred state, With mine own breath release all duty's rites: 210 All pomp and majesty I do forswear; My manors, rents, revenues I forgo; My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny: God pardon all oaths that are broke to me! God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee! Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved. And thou wnth all pleased, that hast all achieved! Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, 90 KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit ! God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says, 220 And send him many years of sunshine days! What more remains? North. No more, but that you read These accusations and these grievous crimes, Committed by your person and your followers Against the state and profit of this land ; That, by confessing them, the souls of men May deem that you are worthily deposed. K.Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weaved-up folly? Gentle Northumberland, If thy offences were upon record, 230 Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst, There shouldst thou find one heinous article. Containing the deposing of a king And cracking the strong warrant of an oath, Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven: Nay, all of you that stand and look upon. Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself. Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands, Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates 240 Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, And water cannot wash away your sin. North. My lord, dispatch ; read o'er these articles. K. Rich. Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see: And yet salt water blinds them not so much But they can see a sort of traitors here. Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself, I find myself a traitor with the rest; For I have given here my soul's consent 91 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF To undeck the pompous body of a king; 250 Made glory base and sovereignty a slave, Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. North. My lord,— K. Rich. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title. No, not that name was given to me at the font. But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day, That I have worn so many winters out, And know not now what name to call myself! O that I were a mockery king of snow, 260 Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, To melt myself away in water-drops! Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, An if my word be sterling yet in England, Let it command a mirror hither straight. That it may show me what a face I have, Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. Boling. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass. [Exit an attendant. North. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. K.Rich. Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell! Boling. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. 271 North. The commons will not then be satisfied. K. Rich. They shall be satisfied : I '11 read enough. When I do see the very book indeed Where all my sins are writ, and that 's myself. Re-enter Attendant zvith a glass. Give me the glass, and therein will I read. No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck So many blows upon this face of mine, 92 KING RICHARD II. Act IV. Sc. i. And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass, Like to my followers in prosperity, 280 Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face That every day under his household roof Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face That, like the sun, did make beholders wink? Was this the face that faced so many follies, And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke? A brittle glory shineth in this face: As brittle as the glory is the face; [Dashes the glass against the ground. For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers. Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, 290 How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. Boling. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow of your face. K. Rich. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow ! ha ! let 's see : 'Tis very true, my grief Hes all within; And these external manners of laments Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, That swells with silence in the tortured soul; There Hes the substance: and I thank thee, king. For thy great bounty, that not only givest 300 Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way How to lament the cause. I '11 beg one boon, And then be gone and trouble you no more. Shall I obtain it? Boling. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. ' Fair cousin ' ? I am greater than a king: For when I was a king, my flatterers Were then but subjects; being now a subject, 93 Act IV. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF I have a king here to my flatterer. Being so great, I have no need to beg. Boling. Yet ask. 310 K.Rich. And shall I have? Boling. You shall. K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. Boling. Whither? K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights. Boling. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower. K.Rich. O, good! Convey? conveyers are you all. That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. [Exeunt King Richard, some Lords, and a Guard. Boling. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. 320 [Exeunt all except the Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of JVestininster, and Aumerle, Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe 's to come ; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? Abbot. My lord, Before I freely speak my mind herein, You shall not only take the sacrament To bury mine intents, but also to effect Whatever I shall happen to devise. 330 I see your brows are full of discontent, Your hearts of sorrow and your eyes of tears : Come home with me to supper ; and I '11 lay A plot shall show us all a merry day. [Exeunt. 94 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. i. ACT FIFTH. ^ , ^ f. London. A street leading to the Tower. fCjcMxw^ Enter Queen and Ladies. ^^^^^fuT^ Queen. This way the king will come ; this is the way To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower, To whose flint bosom my condemned lord Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke: Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth Have any resting for her true king's queen. Enter Richard and Guard. But soft, but see, or rather do not see. My fair rose wither: yet look up, behold, That you in pity may dissolve to dew. And wash him fresh again with true-love tears. lo Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand, Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb. And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn, Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodged in thee, When triumph is become an alehouse guest? K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul, To think our former state a happy dream; From which awaked, the truth of what we are Shows us but this : I am sworn brother, sweet, 20 To grim Necessity, and he and I Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France And cloister thee in some religious house: Our holy lives must win a new world's crown, 95 Act V. Sc. i. THE TRAGEDY OF Which our profane hours here have stricken down. Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd and weakened? hath Bohngbroke de- posed Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart? The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw, And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage 30 To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod. And fawn on rage with base humility ; Which art a lion and a king of beasts? K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts, I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France : Think I am dead, and that even here thou takest, As from my death-bed, thy last living leave. In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire 40 With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales Of woeful ages long ago betid; And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs, Tell thou the lamentable tale of me, And send the hearers weeping to their beds: For why, the senseless brands will sympathize The heavy accent of thy moving tongue. And in compassion weep the fire out; And some w^ill mourn in ashes, some coal-black. For the deposing of a rightful king. 50 Enter N'orthtimbcrland and others. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed; You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower, And, madam, there is order ta'en for you; With all swift speed you must away to France. 96 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. i. K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, The time shall not be many hours of age More than it is, ere foul sin gathering head Shall break into corruption : thou shalt think, Though he divide the realm, and give thee half, 60 It is too little, helping him to all ; And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again. Being ne'er so little urged, another way To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. The love of wicked men converts to fear; That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both To worthy danger and deserved death. North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end. Take leave and part ; for you must part forthwith. K. Rich. Doubly divorced ! Bad men, you violate 71 A twofold marriage ; 'twixt my crown and me. And then betwixt me and my married wife. Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me; And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. Part us, Northumberland ; I towards the north. Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime ; My wife to France : from whence, set forth in pomp. She came adorned hither like sweet May, Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. 80 Queen. And must we be divided ? must we part ? K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. Queen. Banish us both and send the king with me. North. That were some love but little policy. Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me go. 97 Act V. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one woe. Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here ; Better far off than near, be ne'er the near. Go, count thy way with sighs ; I mine with groans. Queen. So longest way shall have the longest moans. 90 K, Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short, And piece the way out with a heavy heart. Come, come, in wooing sorrow let 's be brief. Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief ; One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part ; Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart. Queen, Give me mine own again ; 'twere no good part To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. So, now I have mine own again, be gone, That I may strive to kill it with a groan. 100 K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond delay : Once more, adieu ; the rest let sorrow say. [Exeunt, ^.Rtuo^/tJia^'i> ^^to2,^'^ene II. I ^ . The Duke of > ork s palace. ■ ' Enter York and his Duchess. '^^^^^^ Duch. My lord, you told me you would tell the rest, 4- Aj^k^ol^ When weeping made you break the story off ZT /o S^ Of our two cousins coming into London. ^ York, Where did I leave? ^<^ Duch. At that sad stop, my lord, nQj/9 ^ Where rude misgovern'd hands from windows* tops Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke, /; ' Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed, ^^*^-<^ t Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, 4eL, KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. ii. With slow but stately pace kept on his course, lo Whilst all tongues cried ' God save thee, Boling- broke!' You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage, and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once * Jesu preserve thee ! welcome, Bolingbroke ! ' Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning. Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, Bespake them thus ; ' I thank you, countrymen ' : 20 And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along. Duck. Alack, poor Richard ! where rode he the whilst ? York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men. After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, Are idly bent on him that enters next. Thinking his prattle to be tedious ; Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on gentle Richard ; no man cried ' God save him ! ' No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home : But dust was thrown upon his sacred head ; 30 Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off. His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience. That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted. And barbarism itself have pitied him. But heaven hath a hand in these events. To whose high will we bound our calm contents. To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, Whose state and honour I for aye allow. 40 99 Act V. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle. York. Aumerle that was ; But that is lost for being Richard's friend, And, madam, you must call him Rutland now : I am in parliament pledge for his truth And lasting fealty to the new made king. Enter Aumerle. Duck. Welcome, my son : who are the violets now " That strew the green lap of the new come spring ? Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not : God knows I had as lief be none as one. York. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, 50 Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs ? Aiim. For aught I know, my lord, they do. York. You will be there, I know. Aum. If God prevent not, I purpose so. York. What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom ? Yea, look'st thou pale ? let me see the writing. Aum. My lord, 'tis nothing. York. No matter, then, who see it : I will be satisfied ; let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me : 60 It is a matter of small consequence. Which for some reasons I would not have seen. York. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. I fear, I fear, — DucK What should you fear? 'Tis nothing but some band, that he is enter'd into For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day. 100 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. ii. York. Bound to himself ! what doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Boy, let me see the writing. Aiim. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it. York. I will be satisfied ; let me see it, I say. 71 [He plucks it out of his bosom and reads it. Treason ! foul treason ! Villain ! traitor ! slave ! Duch. What is the matter, my lord? York. Ho ! who is within there ? Enter a Servant. Saddle my horse. God for his mercy, what treachery is here ! Duch. Why, what is it, my lord? York. Give me my boots, I say ; saddle my horse. [Exit Servant, Now, by mine honour, by my life, by my troth, I will appeach the villain. Duch. What is the matter? York. Peace, foolish woman. 80 Duch. I will not peace. What is the matter, Aumerle ? Aum. Good mother, be content ; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. Duch. Thy life answer! York. Bring me my boots : I will unto the king. Re-enter Servant zvith hoots. Duch. Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amazed. Hence, villain ! never more come in my sight. York. Give me my boots, I say. Duch, Why, York, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own ? lOI Act V. Sc. ii. THE TRAGEDY OF 'Have we more sons? or are we like to have? 90 Is not my teeming date drunk up with time ? And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age, And rob me of a happy mother's name? Is he not like thee ? is he not thine own ? York. Thou fond mad woman, Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, And interchangeably set down their hands, To kill the king at Oxford. Diich. He shall be none; We '11 keep him here : then what is that to him? 100 York. Away, fond woman ! were he twenty times my son, I would appeach him. Duch. Hadst thou groan'd for him As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind ; thou dost suspect That I have been disloyal to thy bed, And that he is a bastard, not thy son : Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind : He is as like thee as a riian may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin. And yet I love him. York. IMake way, unruly woman ! [Exit. Duch. After, Aumerle ! mount thee upon his horse ; iii Spur post, and get before him to the king, And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. I '11 not be long behind ; though I be old, I doubt not but to ride as fast as York : And never will I rise up from the ground Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee. Away, be gone ! [Exeunt, 102 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. iii. Scene III. (h^u^^^e^^^^ Windsor Castle. Ic/iul^ Enter Bolingbroke, Percy, and other Lords. Boling. Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son? ^ ^uU^tSllJU. 'Tis full three months since I did see him last : , --^ If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. '^^ I would to God, my lords, he might be found : ObiJ-^ ' Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there, ^^ For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, With unrestrained loose companions. Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, And beat our watch, and rob our passengers ; Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy, lo Takes on the point of honour to support So dissolute a crew. Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the prince, And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. Boling. And what said the gallant ? Percy. His answer was, he would unto the stews, And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, And wear it as a favour ; and with that He would unhorse the lustiest challenger. Boling, As dissolute as desperate ; yet through both 20 I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years May happily bring forth. But who comes here? Enter Aiinierle. Aiim. Where is the king? Boling. What means our cousin, that he stares and looks So wildly? Aiim. God save your grace ! I do beseech your majesty. To have some conference with your grace alone. 103 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Baling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. [ExeiiJit Percy and Lords. What is the matter with our cousin now? Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth 30 My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak. Boling. Intended or committed was this fault ? If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, To win thy after-love I pardon thee. Aum. Then give me leave that I may turn the key. That no man enter till my tale be done. Boling. Have thy desire. York. [Within'] My Hege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. 40 Boling. Villain, I '11 make thee safe. [Drazving. Aum. Stay thy revengeful hand ; thouhastno cause to fear. York. [Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy king: Shall I for love speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open. Enter York. Boling. What is the matter, uncle ? speak ; Recover breath ; tell us how near is danger, That we may arm us to encounter it. York. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me show. 50 Aum. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd : I do repent me ; read not my name there ; My heart is not confederate with my hand. York. It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king ; Fear, and not love, begets his penitence : 104 J KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. Hi. Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove A serpent that will sting thee to the heart. Boling. O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy ! loyal father of a treacherous son ! 60 Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain, From whence this stream through muddy passages Hath held his current and defiled himself! Thy overflow of good converts to bad. And thy abundant goodness shall excuse This deadly blot in thy digressing son. York. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; And he shall spend mine honour with his shame. As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold. Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies, 70 Or my shamed Hfe in his dishonour lies : Thou kill'st me in his life ; giving him breath. The traitor lives, the true man 's put to death. Dnch. [Within] What ho, my liege! for God's sake, let me in. Boling. What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry? Duch. A woman, and thy aunt, great king ; 'tis I. Speak with me, pity me, open the door : A beggar begs that never begg'd before. Boling. Our scene is alter 'd from a serious thing, And now changed to ' The Beggar and the King.' My dangerous cousin, let your mother in : 81 1 know she is come to pray for your foul sin. York. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray. More sins for this forgiveness prosper may. This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound; This let alone will all the rest confound. 105 Act V. Sc. iii. THE TRAGEDY OF Enter Duchess. Duch. O king-, believe not this hard-hearted man ! Love loving not itself none other can. York. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear ? 90 DucJi. Sweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege. [Kneels. Boling. Rise up, good aunt. Diich. Not yet, I thee beseech : For ever will I walk upon my knees, And never see day that the happy sees, Till thou give joy ; until thou bid me joy. By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy. Anm. Unto my mother's prayers I bend my knee. [Kneels. York. Against them both my true joints bended be. [Kneels. Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace ! Duch. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face; 100 His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest; His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast : He prays but faintly and would be denied ; We pray with heart and soul and all beside: His weary joints would gladly rise, I know; Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow : His prayers are full of false hypocrisy ; Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. Our prayers do out-pray his ; then let them have That mercy which true prayer ought to have. no Boling. Good aunt, stand up. Duch. Nay, do not say, ' stand up ' ; 106 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. iii. Say ' pardon ' first, and afterwards ' stand up.' And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach, * Pardon ' should be the first word of thy speech. I never long'd to hear a word till now ; Say ' pardon,' king ; let pity teach thee how : The word is short, but not so short as sweet ; No word like ' pardon ' for kings' mouths so meet. York. Speak it in French, king ; say, ' pardonne moi.' Duch. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy? 120 Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord, That set'st the word itself against the word ! Speak '' pardon ' as 'tis current in our land ; The chopping French we do not understand. Thine eye begins to speak, set thy tongue there : Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear ; That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce. Pity may move thee ' pardon ' to rehearse. Boling. Good aunt, stand up. Duch. I do not sue to stand ; Pardon is all the suit I have in hand. 130 Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee ! Yet am I sick for fear : speak it again ; Twice saying ' pardon ' doth not pardon twain, But makes one pardon strong. Boling. With all my heart I pardon him. Duch. A god on earth thou art. Boling. But for our trusty brother-in-law, and the abbot, With all the rest of that consorted crew. Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. Good uncle, help to order several powers 140 107 Act V. Sc. iv=v. THE TRAGEDY OF To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are : They shall not live within this world, I swear. But I will have them, if I once know where. Uncle, farewell : and, cousin too, adieu : Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. Ditch. Come, my old son : I pray God make thee new. [Exeunt. Scene IV. ^^Cjl^io (UjJJ^^ The same. Enter Exton and Servant. Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake, * Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? ' Was it not so ? Serv. These were his very words. Exton. ' Have I no friend ? ' quoth he : he spake it twice, And urged it twice together, did he not? Serv. He did. Exton. And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me ; ' As who should say, ' I would thou wert the man That would divorce this terror from my heart ' ; Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let 's go : lo I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe. [Exeunt. Scene V. Pomfret Castle. Enter King Richard. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may compare This prison where I Hve unto the world : And for because the world is populous, io8 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. v. And here is not a creature but myself, I cannot do it; yet I '11 hammer it out. My brain I '11 prove the female to my soul, My soul the father; and these two beget A generation of stih-breedmg thoughts. And these same thoughts people this little world, In humours Hke the people of this world, lo For no thought is contented. The better sort, As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd With scruples, and do set the word itself Against the word: As thus, ' Come, little ones,' and then again, ' It is as hard to come as for a camel To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.' Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails May tear a passage through the flinty ribs 20 Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls, And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves That they are not the first of fortune's slaves. Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame, That many have and others must sit there; And in this thought they find a kind of ease. Bearing their own misfortunes on the back Of such as have before endured the like. 30 Thus play I in one person many people. And none contented : sometimes am I king ; Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar, And so I am: then crushing penury. Persuades me I was better when a king; 109 Act V. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF Then am I king'd again : and by and by Think that I am unking'd by BoHngbroke, And straight am nothing: but whatever I be, Nor I nor any man that but man is With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased 40 With being nothing. Music do I hear? [Music. Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is. When time is broke and no proportion kept! So is it in the music of men's lives. And here have I the daintiness of ear To check time broke in a disorder'd string; But for the concord of my state and time Had not an ear to hear my true time broke. I wasted time, and now doth time waste me; ^g For now hath time made me his numbering clock : My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch, Whereto my finger, like a dial's point, Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears. Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans Show minutes, times, and hours: but my time Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy. While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock. 60 This music mads me; let it sound no more; For though it have holp madmen to their wits, In me it seems it will make wise men mad. Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me! For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world. KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. v. Enter a Groom of the Stable. Groom. Hail, royal prince ! K. Rich. Thanks, noble peer ; The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear. What art thou? and how comest thou hither, Where no man never comes, but that sad dog 70 That brings me food to make misfortune live? Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York, With much ado at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometimes royal master's face. O, how it yearn'd my heart when I beheld In London streets, that coronation-day, W^hen Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary, That horse that thou so often hast bestrid. That horse that I so carefully have dress'd ! 80 K. Rich, Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend, How went he under him? Groom. So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back ! That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand ; This hand hath made him proud with clapping him. Would he not stumble ? would he not fall down. Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck Of that proud man that did usurp his back? Forgiveness, horse ! why do I rail on thee, 90 Since thou, created to be awed by man. Wast born to bear ? I w^as not made a horse ; And yet I bear a burthen like an ass, Spurr'd, gall'd, and tired by jauncing Bolingbroke. Ill Act V. Sc. V. THE TRAGEDY OF Enter Keeper, zvith a dish. Keep. Fellow, give place ; here is no longer stay. K. Rich. If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away. Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say. [Exit. Keep. My lord, will 't please you to fall to ? K. Rich. Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do. Keep. My lord, I dare not : Sir Pierce of Exton, who lOO lately came from the king, commands the contrary. K. Rich. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee ! Patience is stale, and I am weary of it. [Beats the Keeper. Keep. Help, help, help ! Enter Exton and Servants, armed. K. Rich. How now ! what means death in this rude assault ? Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument. [Snatching an axe from a servant and killing him. Go thou, and fill another room in hell. [He kills another. Then Exton strikes him dozvn. That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land. Mount, mount, my soul ! thy seat is up on high ; 1 1 1 Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die. [Dies. Exton. As full of valour as of royal blood : Both have I spill'd ; O would the deed were good ! For now the devil, that told me I did well, Says that this deed is chronicled in hell. This dead king to the living king I '11 bear : Take hence the rest, and give them burial here. [Exeunt. 112 KING RICHARD II. Act V. Sc. vi. Scene VI. Windsor castle. Flourish. Enter Bolinghroke, York, zvith other Lords, and Attendants. Baling. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear Is that the rebels have consumed with fire Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire ; But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not. Enter Northumberland. Welcome, my lord : what is the news ? North. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness. The next news is, I have to London sent The heads of Oxford, SaHsbury, Blunt, and Kent : The manner of their taking may appear At large discoursed in this paper here. lo Boling. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains ; And to thy worth will add right worthy gains. Enter Fitzzvater. Fitz. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, Two of the dangerous consorted traitors That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow. Boling. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot ; Right noble is thy merit, well I wot. Enter Percy, and the Bishop of Carlisle. Percy. The grand conspirator. Abbot of Westminster, With clog of conscience and sour melancholy 20 Hath yielded up his body to the grave ; But here is Carlisle living, to abide IT3 Act V. Sc. vi. THE TRAGEDY OF Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride. Boling. CarUsle, this is your doom : Choose out some secret place, some reverend room, • More than thou hast, and with it joy thy Hfe ; So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife : For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, High sparks of honour in thee have I seen. Enter Exton, zvith persons hearing a coffin. Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present 30 Thy buried fear : herein all breathless lies The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought. Boling. Exton, I thank thee not ; for thou hast wrought A deed of slander, with thy fatal hand. Upon my head and all this famous land. Exton. From your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed. Boling. They love not poison that do poison need, Nor do I thee : though I did wish him dead, I hate the murderer, love him murdered. 40 The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour, But neither my good word nor princely favour : With Cain go wander thorough shades of night, And never show thy head by day nor light. Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe, That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow : Come, mourn with me for that I do lament. And put on sullen black incontinent : I '11 make a voyage to the Holy Land, To wash this blood off from my guilty hand : 50 March sadly after; grace my mournings here; In weeping after this untimely bier. [Exeunt, 114 I KING RICHARD II. Glossary. Abide, undergo; V. vi. 22. Absent time, time of absence; II. iii. 79. Accomplish' d, equipped; II. i. 177. Advice ; " upon good a.," after due consideration ; I. iii. 233. Advised, deliberate; I. iii. 188. Affects, affections; I. iv. 30. Against, in anticipation ; III. iv. 28. Allow, acknowledge; V. ii. 40. Amazed, confused; V. ii. 85. Amazing, causing fear; I. iii. 81. Antic, buffoon ; III. ii. 162. Apparent, evident, I. i. 13; IV. i. 124. Appeach, impeach ; V. ii. 79. Appeal, formal challenge; I. i. 4. Appeal' d, charged against me; I, i. 142. Appellant, accuser, impeacher; I. i. 34- Apprehension, imagination ; I. iii. 300. Apprenticchood, apprentice- ship ; I. iii. 271. Approve, prove; I. iii. 112. Apricocks (Quarto i, " Aphri- cokes " ; Quarto 2, " Aphri- cocks," Johnson "apricots") the common early English form of " apricot " (the " pre- cocious " or early-ripe fruit) ; III. iv. 29. Argument, subject; I. i. 12. Ask, require; II. i. 159. Atone, reconcile; I. i. 202. Attach, arrest; II. iii. 156. Attainder, staining, disgrace; IV. i. 24. Attending, awaiting; I. iii. 116. Awful, full of awe ; III. iii. 76. Ay (regularly written as " I "), used with a play upon " I " ; IV. i. 201. Baffled, "originally a punish- ment of infamy, inflicted on recreant knights, one part of which was hanging them up ^ by the heels" (Nares) ; hence to use contemptuously ; I. i. 170. Balm, consecrated oil used in anointing a King; III. ii. 55. Band, bond, formerly used in both senses; I. i. 2. Barbed, armed and harnessed; III. iii. 117. Barely, merely ; II. i. 226. Base court, outer or lower courtyard of a castle ; III. iii. 176. Bay; "to the bay," i.e. "to the last extremity " (a metaphor from hunting) ; II. iii. 128. 115 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Beadsmen, almsmen whose duty it was to pray for their patrons; III. ii. Ii6. (C/>. il- lustration.) From the drawing of the Funera. of Abbot Islip, in Westminster Abbey, 1522 {Cp. ' Vetusta Monumenta'). Beguile, deceive; IV. i. 281. Beholding, beholden; IV. i. 160. Benevolences, taxes; nomi- ■ nally, gratuities (pronounced "benevolence") ; II. i. 250. Beshrew thee, a mild form of imprecation; III. ii. 204. Betid, happened; V. i. 42. Bias (technical term in bowls), " applied alike to the con- struction or form of the bowl imparting an oblique motion, the oblique line in which it runs, and the kind of impetus given to cause it to run obliquely " ; III. iv. 5. Bills, "a kind of pike or hal- bert, formerly carried by the English infantry, and after- wards the usual weapon of watchmen; III. ii. 118. Blank charters, "carte blanche"; I. iv. 48. Blanks, blank charters; II. i. 250. Bleed, to let blood; alluding to the old practice of bleeding a patient in cases of fever; spring and summer were sup- posed to be the only proper time for doing so; I. i. 157. Bold, boldly; I. iii. 3. Bonnet, covering for the head, hat; I. iv. 31. Boot; "there is no b.," profit, advantage ; I. i. 164, Boots, avails; III. iv. 18. Boundeth, reboundeth ; I. ii. 58. Boy, used contemptuously; IV. i. 65. Brands, burning logs of wood ; V. i. 46. Braving, defying; II. iii. 112. Breath, breathing space, a lit- tle time ; III. ii. 164. Bring, conduct, accompany ; I. iii. 304. Broking pawn, the state of being pawned (almost equiv- alent to "pawnbroker "); II. i. 293. Brooch, ornament ('worn in the hat) ; V. V. 66. Brooks, likes; III. ii. 2. But, except ; IV. i. 123. But now, just now, a moment ago; III. ii. 76- Buzs'd, whispered; II. i. 26. By, by reason of, II. i. 52 ; con- cerning, II. i. 213. By this, by this time; II. iii. 16. Call in, revoke ; II. i. 202. Career, onset, the horse's charge in a tournament or combat; 1. ii. 49- 116 KING RICHARD II Glossary Careful, full of care and sor- row; 11. ii. 75. Care-tuned, tuned by cares ; III. ii. 92. Charge, expense; II. i. 159. Check, reprove (Folio 2, and Quarto 5, "heare"); V. v. 46. Cheerly, cheerfully, gladly ; I. iii. 66. Chopping, changing {i.e. the senses of words) ; V. iii. 124. Clap, hastily thrust; III. ii. 114. Clean, completely; III. i. 10. Climate, country, region ; IV. i. 130. Cloister thee, shut thyself up in a cloister; V. i. 23. Close, "at the close" (so Quarto i ; Quartos 2, 3, 4, " at the glose " ; Folios, Quarto 5, "is the close"), the harmonious chords which end a piece of music ; II. i. 12. Coat, coat of arms ; III. i. 24. Come; " the cause you c." = the c. on which vou c. ; I. i. 26. Comfortable, affording com- fort; II. ii. 76. Commend, give over; III. iii. 116. Commends, greetings; III. i. 38. Companion, fellow ; I. iii. 93. Compare hetzvecn, draw com- parisons; II. i. 185. Compassionate, full of pity for one-self; I. iii. 174. Complain, bewail ; III. iv. 18. Complices, accomplices; II. iii. 165. Composition, constitution ; II. i. 73- Conceit, fancy, conception; II. ii- ZZ- Conclude, come to a final ar- rangement ; I. i. 156. Conduct, escort ; IV. i. 157. Conjuration, adjuration; III. ii. Consorted, confederate; V. iii. 138. Converts, turns, changes; V. i. 66. Convey, a cant term for " steal "; IV. i. 316. Conveyers, thieves; IV. i. 317. Cormorant, glutton; II. i. 38. Correction, chastisement; IV. i. 77- Cousin, nephew; I. ii. 46. Crossly, adversely; II. iv. 24. Cunning, devised with skill ; I. iii. 163. Current, sterling, has currency ; I. iii. 231. Dead, death-like, deadly; IV. i. 10. Dear; " d. account," heavy debt, I. i. 130; "d. exile," exile grieving the heart, I. iii. 151. Dearer, better, more worthy ; I. iii. 156. Deceivable, deceptive ; II. iii. 84. Defend, forbid; I. iii. 18. Degenerate, false to his noble rank; I. i. 144. Deliver, utter, speak'; III. ii. 92. Depose, put under oath, take a deposition ; I. iii. 30. Design, point out ; I. i. 203. 117 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Despised, despicable; II. iii. 95. Determinate, limit; 1. iii. 150. Difference, quarrel, contention ; I. i. 201. Digressing, transgressing ; V. iii. 66. Discomfortable, giving no com- fort, discouraging; III. ii. 36. Dispark'd, divested of its en- closures; III. i. 22,. Dissolve, loose, undo; II. ii. 71. Distaff -women, spinners ; III. ii. 118. Divine, prophesy, foretell ; III. iv. 79. Double-fatal, doubly fatal (bows w^ere made of the wood of the yew, while its berries were used as poison) ; III. ii. 117. Double tongue, forked tongue; Ill.ii.gi. Doubt, doubtful ; I. iv. 20. Dress' d, dug up, tilled; III. iv. 56. Dust; " a dust," a particle of dust (Quarto 5, " the dust ") ; II. iii. 91. Eager, sharp, biting ; I. i. 49. Ear, plough; III. ii, 212. Embassage, message ; III. iv. 93. Enfranchisement, restoration to his rights as a free subject; III. iii. 114. EngaoVd, imprisoned ; I. iii. 166. England, trisyllabic; IV. i. 17. Entertain; harbour, feel; II. ii. 4. Entreated, treated; III. i. Z7- Envy, malicious enmity; II. i. 49- Events, results ; II. i. 214. Exactly, expressly, m exact and distinct terms ; 1. i. 140. Except, object to; 1. 1. 72. Exclaims, exclamations ; I. ii. 2. Expedience, expedition ; II. i. 287. Expedient, expeditious; 1. iv. 39. Extinct, extinguished; I. iii. 2.2.2. Extremity, extreme misery; II. ii, 72, Fair, clear, fine ; I. I. 41 ; be- coming, I. i. 54. Fall, let fall ; III. iv. 104 Fantastic, imaginary ; I. iii. 299. Favours, countenances, faces ; IV. i. 168. Fearful, full of fear; III. ii. no. Fell, fierce, cruel ; I, iii. 302. Female, small and delicate ; III. ii. 114. Figured goblet; III. iii. 150. Foil, gold or silver leaf used as a background for setting transparent gems to set off their lustre; I. iii 266. Fondly, foolishly; IV. i. 72. For, as; II. iii. 114, Foreign passages, a pilgrimage in foreign countries; I, iii. 272, Forfend, forbid (Folios and Quarto 5, " forbid ") ; IV, i, 129. For me, by me, on my part ; I. iv. 6. Free, direct; II, iii. 136. Gage, pledge; IV. i. 25. 18 KING RICHARD II. Glossary From a (XVIth century) specimen in Lord Londesborough's collection. Gallant, young felow; V.iii. 15. Gelded, cruelly deprived; II. i. 237. Glistering, glistening, shining; III. iii. 178. Glose, speak insincerely ; II. i. 10. Gnarling, snarling, growling; I. iii. 292. " God for His mercy," I pray God for His Mercy; II. ii. 98; V. ii. 75. Graved, buried ; III. ii. 140. Great, swelling with emotion ; II. i. 228. Griefs, sad tales ; V. i. 43. '' Hallomas or shortest of day," November ist, the beginning of winter; in Shakespeare's time ten days nearer to the winter solstice than now ; V. i. 80. Happily, haply, perhaps; V. iii. 22. Happy, fortunate; III. i. 9. Hard-favour' d, ugly ; V. i. 14. Hardly, with difficulty; II. iv. 2. Haste; 'in h. ivhcrcof,' "to do so speedily"; I. i. 150. Hateful, full of hate; II. ii. 138. Haught, haughty, proud; IV. i. 254- Havioiir, carriage, deportment ; I. iii. 77- Heart-blood, heart's blood (the reading of Quarto 5) ; IV. i. 28. Height, high degree; I. i. 189. High-stomach'd, haughty, war- like; I. i. 18. His, its ; IV. i. 267. Hold out; " h.o. my horse," i.e. if my horse hold out ; II. i. 300. Holp = holpen, helped ; V. v. 61. Hours, dissyllabic ; I. ii. 7. Humours, disposition or moods (due to the four essential fluids of the body, which, ac- cording as each predomi- nated, produced severally the sanguine, cholefic, melan- choly, or phlegmatic tempera- ment) ; V. V. 10. Idly, indifferently ; V. ii. 25. Ill-erected, built under bad aus- pices, or to an evil end; V. i. 2. Immortal title, title of immor- tality; I. i. 24. 119 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Imp, piece out ; technically, " to supply new feathers to a maimed wing" (a term of falconry) ; II. i. 292. Impeach, detract from; I. i. 189. Impresc, impress, heraldic de- vice; III. i. 25. Incontinent, immediately; V. vi. 48. Indifferent, indulgent; II. iii. 116. Infection, pollution ; II. i. 44. Inhabitable, not habitable, not affording an habitation; I. i. /i//2^n7,putinpossession ; Li. 85. Inherits, possesses ; II. i. 83. Injurious, pernicious, hurtful ; I. i. 91. Interchangeably, in return, I. i. 146; mutually, V. ii. 98. 'lack 0' the Clock,' a figure striking the bell in the old clocks ; V. V. 60. Jade, a worthless horse; III. iii. 179. Jauncing, riding hard, " fret- ting the horse to make him prance " ; V. v. 94. Jest, to take part in a game, or play ; I. iii. 95. Journeyman, a workman hired by the day ; I. iii. 274. Kerns, Irish foot -soldiers; II. i. 156. (See illustration in next column.) Kin, relatives by blood; IV. i. 141. Kind, manner, II. iii. 143; rela- tives by race, IV. i. 141. Knots, flower-beds laid out in intricate patterns; III. iv. 46. (See illustration on next page.) Large; "at large," in detail, diffusely; III. i. 41. From the specimen formerly at St, Dunstan's Church, Fleet Street, E.G. Lean-look' d, lean looking; II. iv. II. Learn, teach ; IV. i. 120. Leave, leave off ; V. ii. 4. Lecture, lessons for the in- struction of others ; IV. i. 232. Lendings, money held in trust; I. i. 89. Length; " of 1.," long; IV. i. 11. 120 KING RICHARD 11. Glossary Less; " less happier," an em- phatic form of " less happy " {cp. "more happier") ; 11. i. 49. Lewd, base, vile ; I. i. 90. Liberal, free, unrestrained; II. i. 229. Lief, gladly; V. ii. 49. Lies; ' full as many lies,' giving you the lie as many times; IV. i. 53. Light, alight; I.i.82. Light, lightly; I. iii. 293. Like, likely ; V. ii. 90. Kern. From the Chapter House Liber A, in the Public Record Office, Lingers, causes to linger, lengthens ; II. ii. 72. Listen'd, listened to ; II. i. 9. Livery ; " sue livery " = to ap- ply for the delivery of a free- hold into the possession of its heir; II. i. 203. Lodge, lay low; III. iii. 162. Lodgings, chambers ; I. ii. 68. 'Long-parted mother with,' mother long parted from; III.ii.8. ' Love and labour's ' =: love's and labour's ; II. iii. 62. Maid-pale, virgin -white; III. iii. 98. Maim, deep injury; I. iii. 156. Manage, measures of control , I- iv. 39; "wanting m. of.," lacking ability to control ; III. iii. 179. Manage, handle; III. ii. 118. Manors, estates (Quarto 3, "manners") ; IV. i. 212. ' Manual seal of death' death warrant ; IV. i. 25. Map, picture, image; V. i. 12. Marry, an expletive = " by Mary"; I. iv. 16. Measure, a courtly dance; I. iii. 291. Merit, reward, recompense; I. iii. 156. Misbegotten, " of a bad ori- gin " ; Li. 33- Mistook, mistaken; III. ii. 174. Mock, ridicule ; II. i. 85. Mockery, counterfeit ; IV. i. 260. Model, copy, image, I. ii. 28; " small m. of the barren earth," the grave; III. ii. 153. Moe, more ; II. i. 239. Mortal, deadly; Ill.ii. 21. Motive, instrument ; I. i. 193. Moving, moving others to pity ; V. i. 47. Myself, my own person ; I. i. 145. Native, hereditary; III. ii. 25. 121 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF c::E: Pattern of an Elizabethan flower-bed. (See S. v. Kfiots.) iV^ar = nearer ; III. ii. 64. Neighbour nearness, near kin- ship; I. i. 119. Neuter, neutral; II. iii. 159. New world, new state of things; IV. i. 78. Nicely, subtly, delicately, fan- tastically; II. i. 84. Noble, gold coin worth 6s. 8d., twenty groats (a groat = 4d.); with play upon " royal " ; I. i. 88, V. v. 67. A Noble. From an original specimen of Edward lll.'s reign. 122 KING RICHARD 11. Glossary Noisome, noxious ; III. iv. 38. None, not one of them ; V. ii. 99. Obscene, odious, repulsive; IV. i. 131. Occident, west; III. iii. 67. Office, service; II. ii. 137. Offices, domestic offices, i.e. kitchens, pantries, cellars ; I. ii. 69. Order ta'en, arrangements made; V. i. 53. Others = the other's ; I. i. 22. Out-dared, defied, cowed ; I. i. 190. Overweening, overbearing, pre- sumptuous; I. i. 147. Owes, owns; IV. i. 185. Oyster-wench, 2l woman who sells oysters; I. iv. 31. Pale, enclosure ; III. iv. 40. Paper, letters ; I. iii. 250. ' Pardonne vioi ' =:: excuse me ; a polite way of declining a request; V. iii. 119. Parle, parley; I. i. 192. Part, part from; III. i. 3. Part fortJnvith, depart at once, immediately ; V. i. 70. Partialize, make partial ; I. i. 120. Partial slander, the slander of partiality; I. iii. 241. Party, side (Folios and Quarto 5, "faction"); III. ii. 203; part, III. iii. 115. Party-verdict, assent ; I. iii. 234. Passengers, passers-by ; V. iii. 9. Peaceful, undisturbed; III. ii. 125. Pelican, an allusion to the mediaeval belief that the bird Pelecanus fed its young with its own blood; II. i. 126. From a bronze seal of the Xlllth cen- tury, discovered near Wimborne. Pelting, petty; II. i. 60. Perused, scanned; III. iii. 53. Perspectives, v. Note ; II. ii. 18. Pilld, pillaged, plundered; II. i. 246. Pines, afflicts; V. i. 77. Pitiful, compassionate ; V. ii. 103. Plaining, complaining; I. iii. 175- Plated, clothed in armour; I. iii. 28. Pluvie-pluck'd, humbled; IV. i. 108. Points; "at all p.," fully, com- pletely; I. iii. 2. Pom fret, the common pronun- ciation of Pontefract Castle; V. i. 52. 123 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Pompous, magnificent; IV. i. 250. Poorly f dejectedly; III. iii. 128. Possessed, seized with mad- ness; II. i. 108. Post, go with speed ; I. i. 56. Post; " in post," in haste ; II. i. 296. Postern (Quartos 3, 4, " small posterne"), small gate; V. v. 17. Power, army, forces ; II. ii. 46. Precedent, proof; II. i. 130. Process; "tediousness and p." = " tedious process"; II. iii. 12. Profane, be profaned by, I. iii. 59; commit sacrilege, III. iii. 81. Proiit, material advantage ; prosperity; IV. i. 225. Proof, impenetrability ; " a term particularly applied to defensive arms tried and found impenetrable"; I. iii. 73- Pressing- to death {=;peine forte et ditre). From The Life and Death of Griffin Hood . . . (1623). Presages, forebodings ; II. ii. 142. Presence, presence-chamber, I. iii. 289 ; IV. i. 62. Presently, at once, immedi- ately; II. ii. 91. Press'd, forced into military service; III. ii. 58. Press'd to death; referring to the old custom of putting to death by piling weights upon the chest; III. iv. 72. (See illustration.) Property ; " his p.," its specific quality; III. ii. 135. Proportionable, proportionate ; II. ii. 125. Purchase, acquire, win; I. iii. 282. Qi{it, requite ; " to q. their griefs " = "to requite their tragic tales " (to pay back, to cap) ; V. i. 43. Raged, enraged; II. i. 70. 124 KING RICHARD II. Glossary Ragged, rugged, rough (Clark MS. " rugged " ) ; V. v. 21. Rapier, a small sword used in thrusting; IV. i. 40. Ravenspurgh, a seaport in Yorkshire, situated between Hull and Bridlington, grad- ually destroyed by the sea in the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries ; II. i. 296. Raiv, untutored ; II. iii. 42. Rased out, erased; III. i. 25. Receipt; " that receipt I had," i.e. that money which I re- ceived; I. i. 126. Recreant, false to his faith; I. i. 144. Redoubled, quadrisyllabic ; I. iii. 80. Redoubted, formidai)le; III. iii. 198. Refuge, find comfort for (Quarto 5, "refuse that"); V. V. 26. Regard, approval ; '' with wit's r." = against that which un- derstanding approves; II. i. 28. Regenerate, born anew ; I. iii. 70. Regreet, address, salute, I. iii. 67 ; greet again, I. iii. 186. Religious house, house of a re- ligious order, a convent ; V. i. 23. Remain, stay; I. iii. 250. Remainder; " upon r.," on ac- count of the balance ; I. i. 130. Remember, remind; I. iii. 269. Repeals, recalls from exile ; II. ii. 49. Respect, thought, matter; II. i. 25- Respect' St, carest, dost mind ; II. i. 131. Retired, withdrawn ; II. ii. 46. Return, announce to, make an- swer ; I. iii. 122. Reversion, right of future pos- session; I. iv. 35. Ribs, walls; III. iii. 32. Rid, destroy; V. iv. 11. Rounds, encircles; III. ii. 161. Roundly, unceremoniously; II. i. 122. Royal, gold coin worth 10 shil- lings ; with plav upon " no- ble " ; V. V. 67. Rub, technical term in the game of bowls ; an impediment that might divert the ball from its course; III. iv. 4. Rue, the herb of grace, stand- ing proverbially for " ruth " ; III. iv. 105. Rug-headed, having shaggy hair; II. i. 156. Sacrament; ' take the s.," take an oath ; IV. i. 32S. Sad, grave ; V. v. 70. Safeguard, guard, protect ; I. ii. 35. ScoMng; " s. his state," i.e. scoffing at his state; III. ii. 163. Scruples, doubts ; V. v. 13. Seal, attached to a document by a loop of parchment ; V. ii. Secure, unsuspicious, over-con- fident ; V. iii. 43. Securely, carelessly; II. i. 266. 125 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Security, carelessness ; III. li. 34. See, see to, attend to; II. i. 217. Self and vain conceit, vain self- conceit; III. ii. t66. 'Self-born' (the reading of Folios 3, 4; otherwise "borne"; Vaughan conjec- tured "stiff-boy^ic")="n2L- tive, home-sprung," or (per- haps) "borne for oneself," i.e. " borne selfishly " ; II. iii. 80. Self-mould; " self-same m." ; I. ii.23. Senseless, addressed to a sense- less object; III. ii. 23. Sets; "who sets me else?" who else sets me a stake ; a term used in playing dice; IV. i. 57- Several, separate; V. iii. 140. Shall, will ; III. iv. 67. Sheer, clear, pure; V. iii. 61. Shook off, shaken off; IV. i. 163. Shrewd, evil, mischievous; III. ii. 59. Signories, estates, manors; III. i. 22. Signs of zvar, armour ; II. ii. 74. Silly, simple; V. v. 25. Sit, press, weigh ; II. i. 265. Six and seven, used prover- bially for confusion ; II. ii. 122. Slander (so Quarto i; all rest, " slaughter "), that will cause reproach ; V. vi. 35. So, providing; II. ii. loi. So it be, if it only be ; II. i. 25. Solicit, move, stir ; I. ii. 2. Sometime, once; IV. i. 169. Sometimes = sometime, for- merly ; I. li. 54. Soon-believing, easily, readily, believing; I. i. loi. Sore, heavily; II. i. 265. Sort, company, set; IV. i. 246. Sour, bitter; IV. i. 241. Spent, passed, gone; I. iii. 211. Spirit, monosyllabic; 1. iii. 70. Spright fully, with great spirit; I. iii. 3. Spy, espy; II. i. 271. Staggers, causes to stagger, strikes to the earth ; V. v. no. State, constitution ; IV. i. 225. State of law, legal status; II. i. 114. Stay, wait for; II. i. 289. Still, always; II. i. 22. Still-breeding, ever breeding; V. V. 8. Straight, straightway; IV. i. 265. Stranger, strange, foreign; I. iii. 143. Strew'd, strewn, according to the custom of the time, with rushes. Queen Elizabeth was the last sovereign whose presence-chamber was strewn in this fashion ; I. iii. 289. Strike, i.e. furl our sails: II. i. 266. Subject, inferior (Quarto 5, " subjects ") ; IV. i. 128. Subjected, made a subject; III. ii. 176. Suggest, prompt, incite; I. i. lOI. Suggested, tempted; III. iv. 75. 126 KING RICHARD II. Glossary Sullen, gloomy ; V. vi. 48. Sidlcns, moroseness; II. i. I39- Supple, pliant, bending; I. iv. ^^- TTT • Suppovtance, support; ill. iv. ■ Szvear on our sword, i.e. swear by the cross, the hilt of the sword being in the form of a cross; I. iii. 180. Szvorn, bound by oath (" sworn brother," an allusion to the fratres jurati of chivalry) ; V. i. 20. Sympathice, enter into, share the feeling of ; V. i. 46. Sympathy; "stand on s.," in- sist on equality of rank and blood; IV. i. 33- Tall, large, strong; II. i. 286. Tend, attend; IV. i I99- Tender, young; II. iii. 42. Tendering, holding dear, taking care of; I. i. 32. Thin, thin-haired; III. ii. 112. Tied, obliged ; I. i. 63. Timeless, untimely; IV. i. 5- To he, at being; V. i. 3i- Toil'd, worn out, wearied; IV. i. 96. Too much, much too; II. ii. i. ' Turn their souls/ perjured themselves by treason; III. iii. 83. Trade, traffic, intercourse (Theobald conjectures "tread," unnecessarily; "trade" is ultimately from the same word) ; III. iii- I5_6. Tradition, old custom; III. ii- 173. Travel, journey; I. iii. 262. Triumph day, day of the tour- nament ; V. ii. 66. Triumphs, tournaments; V. ii. 52. Troop, company; IV. i. 231. Troth, faith; V. ii. 78. Turn me, turn (reflexive) ; I. iii. 176. Unavoided, unavoidable; II. i. 268. Undeaf, free from deafness; II. i. 16. Underbearing, enduring, bear- ing; I. iv. 29. Unfelt, expressed only by words; II. iii. 6r. Unfurnish'd, bare, untapes- tried; I. ii. 68. Ungracious, graceless, wicked; II. iii. 89. Unhappied, made wretched, de- praved; III. i. 10. Unpossible (the reading of Quartos i, 2, 3, 4; Folios and Quarto 5, "impossible"), impossible ; II. ii. 126. Unreverent, irreverent; II. i- 123. Unstaid, thoughtless, giddy- headed; II. i. 2. Unthrifts, spendthrifts, good- for-nothings; II. iii. 122. Unthrifty, good for nothing; V. iii. I. Untuned, untuneful, harsh; I. iii. 134- Urging, enforcing by way of argument ; III. i. 4- Vantage, advantage; V. iii. 132. 127 Glossary THE TRAGEDY OF Venge, avenge; I. ii. 36. Verge, " compass about the king's court, which extended for twelve miles round"; II. i. 102. J^Faa bewail; III. ii. 178. Wantons; " play the w.," trifle, dally; III. iii. 164. Warder, stafif borne by the King as presiding over the combat ; I. iii. 118. Was, had become ; I. iii. 274. Waste, "destruction of houses, wood, or other produce of land, done by the tenant to the prejudice of the free- holder " ; II. i. 103. Waxen, soft, penetrable (used proleptically) ; I. iii. 75. What, whatever ; II. i. 242. When . . . when? an ejacula- tion of impatience ; I. i. 162. Where, whereas; III. ii. 185. While, until ; I. iii. 122. White-beards, white-bearded men (Folios and Quarto 5 read, "white-heares") ; III. ii. 112. IVho, used as an indefinite pro- noun ; V. iv. 8. 'Why, so!' an expression of unwilling acquiescence; II. ii. 87. W is tly (Quartos i, 2, "wishtly"), attentively, fix- edly, perhaps influenced in its usage by a supposed con- nection with vi'ish (cp. " wist- ful"); V. iv. 7. Without, from out; V. ii. 56. Worth, worthiness, excellence ; I. i. 107. Worthy, well-merited, de- served ; V. i. 68. Wrought with, joined with in effecting ; IV. i. 4. Yearn'd, grieved (Quartos i, 2, 3, 4, " ernd " ; Folios and Quarto 5, " yern'd " ; " ernd " or " ermd " = grieved, con- fused with " yearn'd " = de- sired) ; V. V. 76. 128 KING RICHARD IL Critical Notes. BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. I. i. I. 'Old John of Gaunt'; Gaunt was only fifty-eight years old at the time when the play opens, but Shakespeare refers to him throughout as an old man. I. i. 20. ' Many years of happy days befal ' ; Pope suggested ^May many ' ; Tate, 'Now many ' ; Collier, ' Full many ' ; others suggest that 'years' is to be read as a dissyllabl.\ No change is necessary ; the emphatic monosyllabic foot at the beginning of the speech is not very remarkable, and may easily be paralleled. I. i. 65. ' inhabitable ' ; Theobald suggested ' unhabitable.' I. i. 77. ' What I have spoke, or thou canst worse deiiise' ; this is the reading of Quarto i ; Quarto 2, ' spoke, or thou canst deuise'; Quartos 3, 4, 'spoke, or what thou canst deuise'; Folios and Quarto 5, 'spoken, or thou canst deuise'; Hanmer conjec- tured, 'spoke, as what thou has devised.' , I. i. 95. 'for these eighteen years'; since the insurrection of Wat Tyler, in 1381. I. i. 189. 'beggar-fear' ; so Quartos i, 5, and Folios i, 2; Quar- tos, 2, 3, 4, ' beggar-face ' ; Folios 3, 4, ' beggar' d fear ' ; Hanmer proposed ' haggard fear ' ; others have suggested, ' bug-bear fear ' ; ' bugbear face ' ; ' stagge/d fear.' I. i. 199. ' Saint Lambert's Day ' ; thus Quartos i, 5, and Fo- lios; Quartos 2, 3, 4, 'St. Lambards Day.' This was September 17th. I. i, 204, 'Lord marshal'; Norfolk was himself Earl Marshal of England ; this was therefore a deputy appointed for the occa- sion; Holinshed tells us that he was Thomas Holland, Duke of Surrey. Capell suggested 'Marshal' for 'Lord Marshal' in order to normalise the scansion of the line; otherwise 'marshal' must be taken as equivalent to a monosyllable, or a monosyllable with an unessential extra syllable before a pause. I. ii. I. ' Woodstock's blood' ; thus Quartos i, 2, 3, 4; Folios i, 2, 3, read ' Glousters' ; Folio 4 and Quarto 5, ' Glosters.' The Duke of Gloucester was also called Thomas of Woodstock. 129 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF I. ii. 47. 'sit'; so the Folios and Quarto 5; Quartos i, 2, 3, 4, ' set.' 1. ii. 66. ' PlasJiy " ; the seat of Thomas of Woodstock, as Lord High Constable, near Dunmow, in Essex. I. ii. 70. 'hear there'; so Quarto 2; Quarto i reads ' cheere there.' I. iii. 20. 'and my succeeding issue'; so Quartos i, 2, 3, 4; the Folios and Quarto 5, ' and his succeeding issue.' I. iii. 43. 'daring-hardy'; Theobald's emendation of the Quar- tos and Folios ; Quarto i, ' daring, hardy ' ; Quartos 2, 3, 4, ' dar- A fight in the lists with poleaxes. From the drawing by John Rous {c. 1485) in Cott. MS., Julius E., iv. ff. 4 and 7. 130 KING RICHARD II. Notes ing, hardie'; Folios i, 2, 'daring hardic'; Quarto 5 and Folios 3, 4, ' daring hardy.' I. iii. 58. 'thee dead'; Quartos i, 2, 'the dead.' 1. iii. 67,68. 'at English feasts, . . . The daintiest last'; re- ferring to the English custom of having sweets as the last course at a dinner. I. iii. 84. ' innocency ' ; the Quartos and Folios ' innocence' changed by Capell to ' innocency.' I. iii. 128. ' Of civil wounds plough'd up zvith neighbours' sword'; Quarto i, ' criielV for 'civil'; Quartos i, 2, 3, 4, 'sword'; the Folios and Quarto 5, 'swords'; Theobald conjec- tured ' neighbour ' for neighbours.' I. iii. 136. 'wrathful iron arms'; Quarto i reads 'harsh re- sounding arms.' I. iii. 138. 'kindred's' ; Quartos i, 2, read ' kinreds.' I. iii. 140. 'upon pain of life'; the reading of Quartos i, 2, 3, 4; the Folios and Quarto 5, ' upon pain of death.' I. iii. 193. 'so far'; the Quartos and Folios \,' so fare'; Folios 2, 3, and Quarto 5, ' so farre ' ; Folio 4, ' so far.' I. iii. 276. ' zvise man'; written as one word in the First two Quarters, and evidently pronounced with the accent on the first syllable. I. iv. 22>. ' Bagot here and Green'; omitted in Quartos i, 2, 3, 4; inserted in the Folios and Quarto 5. I. iv. 58. 'Ely House'; the Bishop of Ely's palace in Holborn. ' Ely- Place' marks its site. II. i. 18. 'of whose taste the zvise are fond'; Quarto i reads ' of whose taste the wise are found ' ; Quarto 2, ' of whose state the zvise are found ' ; Quartos 3, 4. 5 and Folios read ' of his state: then there are found'; Folio i, 'sound'; the reading in the text was first suggested by Collier. II. i. 21. 'Report of fashions in proud Italy.' In Shakespeare's time Italy was the chief place whence England derived and copied the refinements of fashion. Cp. the accompanying illustration of a long-toed soUeret from Lord Londesborough's collection. Notes THE TRAGEDY OF II. i. 40-55. 'This royal throne . . . Jewry'; with the excep- tion of line 50, this passage is quoted more or less correctly in England's Parnassus (1600), but is attributed by mistake to Michael Drayton. II. i. 73-93. These famous lines suggest comparison with the word play of Ajax upon his name in Sophocles' drama. II. i. 102. ' incaged' ', the reading of Folios i, 2; Quartos i, 2, 3, 4 read ' inraged ' ; Quarto 5 reads ' encaged ' ; Folios 3, 4 read ' ingaged.' II. i. 113. 'thou now, not king'; Theobald's emendation of the Quartos and Folios; Quartos i, 2, 3 read 'thou now not, not f^if^g'', Quarto 4 reads 'thou now not, nor king'; the Folios and Quarto 5 read 'thou and not king.' II. i. 115. 'And thou — King Richard. A lunatic,' etc. Quar- to I, 'And thou. King. A lunatike'; Quarto 2, 'And thou. King. A lunatick ; Quartos 3, 4 read 'And thou. King. Ah lunaticke'; the Folios and Quarto 5, 'And — Rich. And thou, a lunaticke'; Warburton, 'And thou — K. Rich. And thou, a luna- tick.' 11. i. 24s. "Gainst us, our lives'; Vaughan conjectured 'Against ourselves'; Collier MS., "Gainst us, our wives.' II. i. 247. Pope proposed the omission of ' quite ' in order to improve the scansion of the line. It has been suggested that Shakespeare may have written ' The gentlemen and nohles hath he fined.' Sidney Walker re-arranged the passage thus : ' The commons hath he pill'd With grievous taxes, and quite lost their hearts; The nohles hath he lined for ancient quarrels' The text as it stands is better than the readings which result from these emendations. II. i. 252. 'Wars have,' etc.; Rowe's emendation; Quartos i, 2 and the Folios read ' Wars hath,' etc. ; Capell conjectured ' War hath,' etc. II. i. 253. " The allusion here is to the treaty which Richard made with Charles VI. of France in the year 1393." II. i. 254. The Folios omit 'noble'; but there are many similar quasi-Alexandrines in the play. II. i. 277. ' Then thus: I have from le Port Blanc' The first Quarto reads : — ' Then thus, I have from le Port Blan A Bay in Brittaine,' etc. 132 KING RICHARD II. Notes Dr. Wright notes that as the Quartos have * le Port Blan,' and Hohnshed ' le Porte Blanc,' he adopts the reading ' le Port Blanc,' which is the name of a small port in the department of Cotes du Nord, near Treguier. 11. i. 279. Malone, having Holinshed 'before him, assumed that a line has been lost, and introduced the following words after ' Cobhant ' : — ' The son of Richard Earl of Arundel.' II. i. 283. ' Sir John Ramston ' ; according to Holinshed * Sir Thomas,' not ' Sir John.' II. i. 284. ' Quoint'; Quartos i, 2, 3, 4 read ' Coines.' II. ii. 18. 'perspectives' ; "at the right Honourable the Lord Gerards at Gerards Bromley, there are the pictures of Henry the Great of France and his Queen, both upon the same indented board, which if beheld directly, you only perceive a confused piece of work; but, if obliquely, of one side you see the King's, and on the other the Queen's picture"; Plot's Natural History of Staf- fordshire (quoted by Staunton), Holbein's famous picture, known as ' The Two Ambassadors, affords a better illustration of these lines. A mysterious looking object, resembling a shadow, is simply the anamorphosis, i.e. the distorted projection of a hu- man skull, drawn from the reflection in a cylindrical mirror. The solution of the problem was due to Dr. Woodward in 1873 {cp. Athenaeum; Mill Hill Magazine, 1876, by Dr. J. A. H. Murray; Pall Mall Gazette, 1890; Nezv Shakespere Society, P. A. Daniel, 1890.) II. ii. 31. 'though'; Quarto i reads 'thought' \ 'on thinking on'; Folios 3, 4 read 'one thinking on'; Collier MS., 'unthink- ing, on'; 'no thought'; Lettsom conjectured 'nothing.' II. ii. 57. 'all the rest'; the reading of Quarto i; Quartos 2, 3, 4, 5 and Folios i, 2 read ' the rest of the ' ; Folios 3, 4, *■ the rest of that ' ; Pope, ' all of that,' ' revolted ' ; Quartos 3, 4 read ' revolt- ing ' ; ' faction ' ; Daniel conjectured ' factious! II. ii. 58. 'The Earl of Worcester' ; Thomas Percy, Steward of the King's household : he was brother to the Earl of Northum- berland. II. iii. 9. ' Cotswold' ; Quartos i, 2, 3, 4 read ' CotshaW ; the Folios and Quarto 5 read ' Coltshold.' II. iii. 100. The Clarendon Press editors suggest that this pas- sage bears considerable resemblance to the speech of Nestor {Iliad, vii. 157). (Hall's translation of Homer was published in 1581.) 13^ Notes THE TRAGEDY OF II. iii. 164. 'Bristol'; the reading of Quarto 5; all the rest Quartos and Folios, ' Bristow.' III. ii. I. ' Barkloughly' ; the name was derived from Holin- shed, where it was undoubtedly a copyist's or printer's error for ' Hertlowli/ i.e. Harlech. III. ii. 14. Alluding to the old idea that spiders were venomous. III. ii. 40. 'boldly'; Col- lier's conjecture; Quarto i, ' bouldy ' ; Quarto 2, ' bloudy ' ; Quartos 3, 4, 5, and Folios, ' bloody.' III. ii. 156. 'sad stories of the death of kings ' ; Shake- speare was probably thinking of the Mirror for Magistrates, with its ' tragedies ' of Eng- lish princes, Richard among the earliest of them. III. ii. 160 - 163. Douce plausibly suggests that this image was suggested to Shakespeare by the seventh print (here reproduced) in the Images Mortis, where " a King is represented sitting on his throne, sword in hand, with courtiers round him, zvJiile from his crown rises a grinning skeleton." III. iii. 105, ' the honourable tomb ' ; the tomb of Edward III. in Westminster Abbey. III. iv. II. 'joy'; Rowe's emendation; Quartos and Folios, ' grief e.' III. iv. 22, ' And I could sing ' ; Pope's emendation ; weep,' has been generally adopted, but the Cambridge Editors adhere to the reading of the Quartos and Folios. They explain that " the Queen speaks with an emphasis on * sing." ' And 1 could even sing for joy if thy troubles were only such as weeping could alle- viate, and then I could not ask you to weep for me.' " IV. i. 55. ' sun to sun ' ; Capell's emendation of ' sinne to sinne ' of the Quartos. IV. i. 148. 'Prevent it, resist it'; Pope proposed 'prevent, re- \//U/^\y^\f^^\^\:M 1 T^^M^ ^^l^^f^l^^^K^^^^^-'^' ^^^m i^^fiKHyii c^M^/^^^^^^^^^^^V 1 ^^^ — ^^v iff 1\ u{^^^^^^^^^SM\ML>y- *^^^^^^p^^*-£^ J^^ '^^^^ ^^^^^^^^^^^5^r^ ^^ '--^^v-rx 134 KING RICHARD II. Notes sist it' ; others scan 'resist' by apocope Csist) ; the natural move- ment of the line suggests : — 'prevent it, | resist it, \ — let \ it not \ he so.' IV. i. 154-318. This part of the 'deposition scene' appeared for the first time in the Quarto of 1608. In the earlier editions line From an illumination in the Metrical History of Richard II. (MS. Harl. 1319). 319 reads: 'Let it he so, and lo on Wednesday next We solemnly proclaim.' IV. i. 215, 'that swear'; i.e. 'of those that swear'; Folios and Quarto 5, ' are made.' IV. i. 270. ' torment' st ' ; Rowe's emendation of Quartos 3, 4, 5 and Folios, ' torments.' IV. i. 281-288. A reminiscence of Marlowe's famous lines in Faustus : ' Was this the face that launch'd a thousand ships/ etc. V. i. 88. * Better far off than near, he ne'er the near/ i.e. ' better to be far apart than to be near, and ^yet never the nearer.' V. iii. 43. ' secure, foolhardy king ' ; Quartos ' secure fools, hardy king ' ; Folio 4, ' secure foul-hardy king/ 135 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF V. iii. 88. 'Love loving not itself' etc.; i.e. 'love which is in- different to the claims of kindred can be loving to none.' V. iii. 144. * The reading of Quarto 5 ; the other editions omit ' too: V. V. 9. ' this little world ' ; alluding to the conception of man as * microcosm/ i.e. an abstract or model of the world. V. V. 31. 'person'; so Quarto i; the rest 'prison.' V. V. 66. 'strange brooch.' {Cp. the accompanying illustration of a XVth century specimen.) I 136 KING RICHARD II. Explanatory Notes. The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially selected and adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dowden, and others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. ACT FIRST. Scene I. 2. thy oath and hand : — Lancaster had on a former occasion pledged himself, had given his oath and bond, that his son should appear for combat at the time and place appointed. This was in accordance with ancient custom. 20. [Bolingbroke.] Henry Plantagenet was surnamed Boling- broke from his having been born at the castle of that name in Lincolnshire. 100. the Duke of Gloucester's death : — This was Thomas of Woodstock, the youngest son of Edward IIL, and of course uncle to Richard IL Fierce, turbulent, and distinguished for cruelty in an age of cruel men, he was arrested for treason in 1397, and his own nephews and brothers concurred in the judgement against him. Upon his arrest he was given into the keeping of Norfolk, who pretended to conduct him to the Tower; but when they reached the Thames, he put him on board a ship, took him to Calais, of which Norfolk was governor, and confined him in the castle. Being ordered to bring his prisoner before Parliament for trial, Norfolk answered that he could not produce the duke, for that, being in the king's prison at Calais, he had there died. Hol- inshed says " the king sent unto Thomas Mowbraie, to make the duke secretlie awaie." And he further relates that when Norfolk 137 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF deferred to execute this order, " the king conceived no small dis- pleasure, and sware that it should cost him his life, if he quickly obeied not his commandment. Being thus in a manner inforced, he called out the duke at midnight, as if he should have taken ship to passe over into England, and caused his servants to cast feather beds upon him, and so smoother him to death, or otherwise to strangle him with towels (as some write.) " 104-106. cries . . . justice: — This "cries to me for justice" finely expresses the sly but stern audacity of Bolingbroke. It is a hint of terror to the king and works all the more for being so cunningly done that he cannot or dare not resent it as such. 131. to fetch his queen : — The earls of Nottingham and Rutland, with several other noblemen and a large retinue of knights and esquires, were sent over to France in 1395 to negotiate a marriage between their sovereign and Isabella, the daughter of the French king, then in her eighth year. The following year, " the ambassa- dors," says Holinshed, " went thither againe, and so after that the two kings by sending to and fro were growne to certaine points and covenants of agreement, the earl marshal [Nottingham], by letters of procuration, married the ladie Isabell in name of King Richard, so that from thencefoorth she was called Queene of Eng- land. Amongst other covenants and articles of this marriage there was a truce accorded, to indure betwixt the two realms of England and France for the tearme of thirtie years." Richard's first wife, daughter of Charles IV., Emperor of Germany, and known in history as "the good Queen Anne," died at Shene in 1394, " to the great greefe of hir husband, who loved hir intirelie." Nottingham and Rutland were made dukes of Norfolk and Albe- marle, or Aumerle, about the time of Christmas, 1397. 134. my sworn duty in that case: — This reads as if Norfolk considered it his sworn duty to slay Gloucester, or, at least, to obey the king's order to that effect. But perhaps the " sworn duty," which he charges himself with neglecting, was to shield Gloucester from the violence of others. We have seen that Nor- folk was reported to have caused the duke to be smothered ; but he always denied having any hand in his death. 155. incision : — In Shakespeare's time the endings ian and ion were often used as two syllables. The Faerie Queene is full of cases in point. 157. no month to bleed: — In the old almanacs the best times for blood-letting were set down. The earliest English almanac known has those times carefully noted. 138 KING RICHARD II. Notes Scene lO 45,46, to behold . . . fight: — The Poet's use of his mate- rials may be further indicated by an abstract of Holinshed : For some years the violence and weakness of Richard's government had filled the state with strifes and factions. Of late the king had set himself above the law and practiced all sorts of outrages on the rights and liberties of the nation. At length all parties seemed likely to unite against him. In 1398, the twenty-first year of his reign, the king held a Parliament at Shrewsbury, where sundry of the nobles showed their griefs to those by whom he was misled, hoping that he would mend his ways. But this was thwarted by a new quarrel between the dukes of Hereford and Norfolk. During the Parliament Hereford accused Norfolk of certain disloyal words; and, in further proof thereof, he chal- lenged him to the field as a traitor to the king and the realm. The king had both parties arrested in his name ; whereupon the dukes of Lancaster, York, and Surrey undertook as pledges for Hereford ; but Norfolk was not suffered to put in pledges, but order was given to have him safely kept at Windsor Castle till such time as should be fixed upon for the trial. 68, 69. unfurnished zvalls, etc. : — In the ancient English castles the naked stone walls were only covered with tapestry or arras, hung upon tenter-hooks, from which it was easily taken down on removal of the family. The offices were the rooms designed for keeping the various stores of provisions. They were always situ- ate within the house, on the ground floor, and nearly adjoining each other. When dinner had been set on the board, the proper officers attended in each of these offices. Sometimes, on occasions of great festivity, these offices were all thrown open to all comers to eat and drink at their pleasure. The duchess, therefore, laments that, in consequence of the murder of her husband, all the hospitality of plenty is at an end; the walls are unfurnished, the lodging rooms empty, and the offices unpeopled. Scene III. [Enter the Lord Marshal and the Duke of Aumerle.] The official actors in this Scene are thus spoken of by Holinshed: " The Duke of xA.umarle that daie, being high constable of Eng- land, and the Duke of Surrie marshall, placed themselves betwixt 139 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF them, well armed and appointed ; and when they saw their time, they first entered the listes with a great companie of men appar- elled in silk sendall, imbrodered with silver, both richlie and curiouslie, everie man having a tipped staffe to keep the field in order." Aumerle was the oldest son of the Duke of York, and was killed at the battle of Agincourt, in 1415. Norfolk was by inheritance earl marshal of England ; but, being one of the parties in the combat, of course he could not serve in that office. Surrey, who acted as marshal in his stead, was half-brother to the king, being the son of Joan, the Fair Maid of Kent, by her first husband, Sir Thomas Holland. While serving in that office he is addressed as Marshal or Lord Marshal. 16. Mowbray : — The Duke of Hereford, being the appellant, entered the lists first, according to the historians. 118. the king hath thrown his warder dozvn: — Thus in Hol- inshed : " The Duke of Norfolke was not fullie set forward, when the king cast down his warder, and the heralds cried, Ho, ho." The zuarder was a kind of truncheon or staff used in presiding at such trials, and the combat was to go on or stop, according as the president threw this up or down. 275. the eye of heaven : — This seems to have been a favourite figure with poets for the sun. So in The Faerie Queene, i. 3, 4: — " From her fayre head her fillet she undight, And layd her stole aside : Her angel's face, As the great eye of heaven, shyned bright. And made a sunshine in a shady place." 276. to a wise man, etc.: — Shakespeare probably remembered Euphues' exhortation to Botonio to take his exile patiently : " Nature hath given to man a country no more than she hath a house, or lands, or livings. Socrates would neither call himself an Athenian, neither a Grecian, but a citizen of the world. Plato would never accompt him banished that had the sunne, fire, ayre, water, and earth that he had before ; where he felt the winter's blast, and the summer's blaze ; where the same sunne and same moone shined: whereby he noted that every place was a country to a wise man, and all parts a palace to a quiet mind." 309. Though banish' d: — The departure of the two dukes is thus recorded by Holinshed : " The Duke of Norfolke departed sor- rowfullie out of the realme into Almaine, and at the last came to Venice, where he, for thought and melancholic, deceassed. The Duke of Hereford tooke his jornie over into Calls, and from 140 KING RICHARD II. Notes thence went into France, where he remained. A woonder it was to see what number of people ran after him in everie towne and street where he came, before he tooke to sea, lamenting and be- wailing his departure, as who would saie that, when he departed, the onelie shield, defense, and comfort of the commonwealth was faded and gone." Scene IV. I. We did observe : — The king here addresses Green and Bagot, who, we may suppose, have been talking to him of Bolingbroke's " courtship to the common people," at the time of his departure. Yes, says Richard, we did observe it. 45. farm our royal realm : — Borrowing from certain persons, who are allowed to repay themselves by collecting taxes, etc., for a certain time. The agreement in this case is said to have been that Green, Bagot, Bushy, and Scrope should bind themselves jointly to pay Richard a sum about equal to $35,000 per month, and should in return have surrendered to them his crown lands, rents, taxes, subsidies, customs, and all other duties which belong to the king or crown. The oppression exercised by these " farm- ers " in collecting the taxes, etc., is said to have been most odious. ACT SECOND. Scene I. [Enter . . . Duke of York.] Edmund, Duke of York, fourth son of Edward III., was born in 1341 at Langley, near St. Albans, and hence was called Edmund of Langley. He is described as having been "of an indolent disposition, a lover of pleasure, and averse to business ; easily prevailed upon to lie still, and consult his own quiet, and never acting with spirit upon any occasion." 84. Can sick men, etc. : — In answer to the king's question Cole- ridge comments thus : " Yes ! on a death-bed there is a feeling which may make all things appear but as puns and equivocations. And a passion there is that carries off its own excess by plays on words as naturally, and, therefore, as appropriately to the drama, as by gesticulations, looks, or tones. This belongs to human 141 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF nature as such, independently of associations and habits from any- particular rank of life or mode of employment." 114. Thy state of lazv, etc.: — Thy legal state, that rank in the state and these large demesnes which the law gives thee, are now bondslave to the law; being subject to the same legal restrictions as every ordinary pelting farm that has been let on lease. 139. let them die that . . . sullens have : — So in Milton's Colasterion : " No, says he ; let them die of the sullens, and try who will pity them." And in Beaumont and Fletcher's Spanish Curate, III. ii. : " Let women die 0' the sullens too ; 'tis natural : but be sure their daughters be of age first." This is Shakespeare's only use of the noun sullens. 156. rug-headed kerns: — In Stanihurst's Description of Ireland is this reference to the kerns or Irish foot-soldiers : " Kerne sig- nifieth (as noblemen of deepe judgement informed me) a shower of hell, because they are taken for no better than for rakehels, or the divels blackegard." And in 2 Henry VI., III. i., York, rela- ting the adventures of Cade in Ireland, says, " Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kerne, hath he conversed with the enemy, and undiscover'd come to me again." 157.158. no venom else . . . live: — Alluding to the belief that no venomous reptiles live in Ireland. 167,168. Nor the prevention . . . marriage: — The matter referred to is thus related by Holinshed : " At his comming into France, King Charles received him gentlie, in so much that he had obteined in marriage the onelie daughter of the Duke of Berrie, uncle to the French king, if King Richard had not beene a let in that matter, who, being thereof certified, sent the Earle of Salisburie with all speed into France, both to surmize by untrue suggestion heinous offenses against him, and also to require the French king that in no wise he would suffer his cousine to be matched in marriage with him that was so manifest an offendor." 177. Accomplish'd, etc. : — That is, when he was of thy age. 204. deny his offer'd homage : — " On the death of any person who held by knight's service, his heir, if under age, became a ward of the king; but if of age, he had a right to sue out a writ of ouster le main or livery, that the king's hand might be taken off, and the land delivered to him. To deny his offer'd homage was to refuse the homage by which he was to hold his lands." The at- torneys-general here (203) meant were not the officers of the crown, but Bolingbroke's own attorneys, authorized to represent him generally, according to the scope of the letters patent. 142 KING RICHARD II. Notes 250. blanks : — Stow records that Richard II. " compelled all the religious, gentlemen, and commons, to set their seales to blankes, to the end he might, if it pleased him, oppress them severally, or all at once." 281. Duke of Exeter : — The Duke of Exeter was John Holland, brother to the Duke of Surrey, and half-brother to the king. Something appears to have been omitted here, as the person " that late broke from the Duke of Exeter " was not Lord Cobham, but Thomas, son of the late Earl of Arundel, who had been given into the Duke of Exeter's custody, and confined at his house. Hence modern editions generally, following Malone, insert a whole line after Cobham, thus : " The son of Richard Earl of Arundel," The matter is thus stated by Holinshed : " About the same time, the Earle of Arundel's sonne, named Thomas, which was kept in the Duke of Exeter's house, escaped out of the realme, by means of one William Scot, mercer, and went to his uncle, Thomas Arundell late Archbishop of Canterburie, and then sojourning at Cullen." And again : " He [Bolingbroke] being thus called upon by messengers and letters from his freends, and cheeflie through the earnest persuasion of Thomas Arundell, late Arch- bishop of Canterburie, who had been remooved from his see, and banished the realme, got him down to Britaine, and there were certeine ships rigged for him at a place called Le port blanc : and when all his provision was made readie he tooke the sea, togither with the said archbishop, and his nephue, Thomas Arundell, sonne and heire to the late Earle of Arundell beheaded at the Tower hill." Scene II. The Duke of Lancaster having died, Richard, as Holinshed in- forms us, forthwith seized into his own hands all his estates and revenues, which should have devolved to Hereford; and at the same time revoked the letters patent before granted, whereby his attorneys might sue for the delivery of whatever possessions might fall to him, thus showing plainly that he meant no less than his utter undoing. Against this hard dealing all ranks of men cried out, and grew to a thorough hatred of the king. The Duke of York considered that the glory of his country must needs decay through the king's lack of wisdom, and his want of faithful ad- visers. While such was the state of things in England, the king was certified that a flaming rebellion had broken out m Ireland. 143 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF Having drawn together with all convenient haste a great power of armed men and archers, in the spring of 1399 he set sail from Mil- ford for that country with two hundred ships, leaving his uncle the Duke of York to act as regent in his absence. The Duke of Aumerle was to have followed him forthwith with another fleet of a hundred sail ; but he did not arrive till about two months after. Whether this delay were through his own fault or not, he was greatly suspected of some evil purpose in being so much behind his time. However, what with the valour and the policy of Richard and his men, the Irish were soon reduced to obedi- ence. 36-38. For nothing . . . possess: — The meaning of this pas- sage, so obscured by verbal play, seems to be, that either nothing has caused her grief, or else there really is somewhat in the nothing that sh*" grieves about. The queen possesses her grief in reversion, as s .nething which, though really hers, she has no right to claim, or actually hold, till the happening of the event that is to cause it. 102. my brother's : — The Poet may have confounded the death of Arundel, who was beheaded, with that of Gloucester, who was said to have been smothered. 105. cousin, I would say : — This is one of Shakespeare's touches of nature. York is talking to the queen, his cousin, but the recent death of his sister is uppermost in his mind. Scene III. Some of the nobility and local magistrates in England, accord- ing to Holinshed, seeing how the realm was not likely to recover while Richard reigned, devised to send letters to Hereford, promising him all their aid and power, if he would expel Richard and take upon himself the government ; all which he was not slow in consenting to. York called a council to advise what were best to be done ; and their advice was to gather an army at St. Albans, to resist the duke in his landing; but the most of those who came protested that they would not fight against the duke, whom they knew to be evilly dealt withal. Thereupon the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Bagot, and Green slipped away, leaving the regent and the chancellor to make what shift they could. Bagot fled to Chester, and thence into Ireland ; the others to Bristol. The duke landed about the first of July in Yorkshire, at Ravenspurgh, and with him 144 KING RICHARD II. Notes not more than threescore persons; but a great number of people were quickly assembled to further his cause. At Doncaster he met the Earl of Northumberland and his son Henry Percy, to whom he swore that he would but claim the lands inherited from his father, and in right of his wife ; promising, withal, that he would bring the king to good government, and remove from him his evil advisers. Leaving Doncaster with a great army, he came with all speed by Evesham to Berkeley ; and within three days all the royal castles in those parts were surrendered to him. At Berkeley he found the Duke of York, who had gone thither to meet the king at his coming from Ireland. The next day he passed onward, still gathering power at every step, towards Bris- tol, where Wiltshire, Green, and Bushy prepared to make resist- ance; but in this they were soon defeated, taken prisoners, found guilty of treason, and forthwith beheaded. Scene IV. 8. The bay-trees, etc.: — Thus Holinshed : "In this yeare (1399) in a manner throughout all the realme of England, old baie trees withered, and afterwards, contrarie to all men's think- ing, grew greene againe; a strange sight, and supposed to import some unknowne event." It appears from Lupton's Booke of Notable Thinges that this was esteemed ominous: " Neyther falling sycknes, neyther devyll, wyll infest or hurt one in that place whereas a Bay-tree is. The Romaynes calles it the plant of the good angell." ACT THIRD. Scene I. 25. impress: — When stained glass was in use, it was common for a man to have his coat of arms annealed in his windows ; and Feme, in his Blazon of Gentry, says : " The arms of traitors and rebels may be defaced and removed, wheresoever they are fixed or set." Scene II. Holinshed informs us that the king was detained in Ireland, the seas being so tempestuous that he could not hear what was do- 145 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF ing in England ; and when, after the lapse of six weeks, he under- stood how Hereford was carrying all before him, instead of set- ting forth at once, he still lingered till all his ships should be ready for the passage ; but sent over the Earl of Salisbury to gather a power in Wales and Cheshire. The earl, landing at Conway, sent forth letters to the king's friends, to levy their people, and come quickly to assist the king; which they did, insomuch that within four days forty thousand men were ready to march with the king, if he had been there. But a report began to prevail that he was dead, and Salisbury could barely induce them to wait fourteen days, and at the end of that time, he not coming, they dispersed and went home. A few days after, the king, with the Bishop of Carlisle, the dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, Exeter, and others, landed near Barkloughly Castle in Wales ; and he hastened on towards Conway, where Salisbury had been waiting for him. But when he heard how all the castles were already in Hereford's hands, how the nobles and commons on all sides were fully bent to side with the duke against him, and how his trusty friends had lost their heads at Bristol, utterly despairing of his own safety, he gave every man leave to go home. The following night he stole from the army, and went to Conway Castle. 158. the gliosis they have deposed: — An elliptical way of speak- ing, not unfrequent with the Poet, probably meaning the ghosts of those whom they have deposed. Scene III. Holinshed's account says that when the Duke of Lancaster heard of the king's return, he hastened into Wales, and sent Northumberland to the king with four hundred lances and a thousand archers. The earl, having placed his men in ambush, pushed on with a small company to Conway, and by fair promises drew forth the king with a few attendants, and, before he sus- pected any danger, they were at the place where the ambush was laid; so that Richard was now entirely in his power, and there was no way but for him to go with them to Flint Castle, which was already at Lancaster's disposal. The duke, being constantly in- formed of the earl's doings, came thither the next day, and mus- tered his army in sight of the king, who viewed them from the walls of the castle. Here again the earl was employed to manage affairs with the king. Finally the duke himself came to the castle, 146 KING RICHARD II. Notes all armed, but stayed at the first gate, and sent for the king to come to an interview with him there ; whereupon he came forth, with a few attendants, into the low^r court of the castle, and sat down in a place prepared for him. As soon as the duke saw him, he showed a reverent duty, bowing his knee, and coming forward, till the king took him by the hand, and lifted him up, saying: " Dear cousin, ye are welcome " ; and he, humbly thanking him, said : " My sovereign lord and king, the cause of my coming is to have restitution of my person, lands, and heritage, through your favourable license." To which the king answered : " Dear cousin, I am ready to accomplish your will, so that you may enjoy all that is yours." 97. the Hozi'er of England's face: — That is, England's flowery face, the flowery surface of England. The same mode of expres- sion is used in Sidney's Arcadia: "Opening the cherry of her lips''; that is, her cherry lips. 156. Some way of common trade: — That is, some way of fre- quent resort, a common course ; as at present, a road of much traf- fic, frequent resort. 209. Then I must not say no : — The following is given by Stow from the manuscript of a person who was present : " The duke, with a high sharpe voyce bade bring forth the king's horses ; and then two little nagges, not worth forty franks, were brought forth : the king was set on one, and the Earle of Salisburie on the other ; and thus the duke brought the king from Flint to Chester, where he was delivered to the Duke of Gloucester's sonne (that loved him but little, for he had put their father to death), who led him straight to the castle." Scene IV. Coleridge thus comments on this charming Scene : " See here the skill and judgement of our Poet in giving reality and individ- 'ual life, by the introduction of accidents in his historic plays, and thereby making them dramas, and not histories. How beautiful an islet of repose — a melancholy repose, indeed — is this scene with the Gardener and his Servant ! And how truly affecting and realizing is the very horse Barbary, in the scene with the Groom in the last Act ! " y2. press' d to death : — The Poet alludes to the ancient legal pun- ishment called peine forte et dure, which was inflicted on persons who, being arraigned, refused to plead, remaining obstinately 147 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF silent. They were pressed to death by laying weights, heavier and heavier, on the chest. ACT FOURTH. Scene I. ;iS. on sympathy : — By the laws of chivalry a man was not bound to fight with an adversary of lower rank, because a nobler life might not be staked in duel against a baser. Sympathy being an affection incident at once to two subjects, implies likeness or equality of nature; and hence the Poet transferred the term to equality of rank or blood. 55. From sun to sun : — Either from sunrise to sunset or from one sunrise to another. Compare Cymbelinc, III. ii. 70: "One score 'twixt sun and sun." 78. in this nezv world: — The new era or new order of things under Bolingbroke. Fitzwater was no " boy," being thirty-one years old. 90. The matter of this scene is given by Holinshed in sub- stance thus: There was much ado in this Parliament about the murder of the late Duke of Gloucester. Sir William Bagot, then a prisoner in the Tower, disclosed many secrets to which he was privy; and, being brought to the bar, he testified that touching Gloucester's death there was no man to whom King Richard was so much beholden as to Aumerle, for that he had specially set his hand to fulfil the king's pleasure therein: besides, that he had heard Aumerle say he had rather than twenty thousand pounds that Hereford were dead ; not for any fear he had of him, but for the trouble he was like to cause in the realm. Thereupon Au- merle rose up and said that the things alleged touching himself were utterly false, as he would prove with his body in whatever manner should be thought fit. A few days later Lord Fitzwater rose up and said, that whereas Aumerle had excused himself of Gloucester's death, he was in truth the very cause of it; and he then threw down his hood as a gage to prove it with his body. And twenty other lords threw down their hoods as pledges to prove the same. Then Aumerle threw down his hood to try it against Fitzwater, as having lied in that he had charged him with. The Duke of Surrey also stood up. affirming that what Fitzwater had said was false ; and therewith he threw down his hood. Then, 148 KING RICHARD II. Notes it having been alleged on Norfolk's authority that Aumerle had sent two of his servants to Calais to murder Gloucester, Aumerle said that if Norfolk affirm it, he lied, at the same time throwing down another hood which he borrowed. All these gages were delivered to the constable and marshal, and the parties put under arrest. Some while after, Fitzwater prayed to have a time and place appointed for his appeal against Aumerle ; and the king said he would send for Norfolk to return, and at his coming the matter should be tried. There the quarrel rested, it being known soon after that Norfolk had died in exile. 129, O, forfend it: — The Bishop's speech, as given by Holin- shed, is too good to be omitted: " The Bishop of Carleill, a man both learned, wise, and stout of stomach, boldlie shewed foorth his opinion ; affirming that there was none amongst them woorthie or meet to give judgement upon so noble a prince as King Richard was, whom they had taken for their sovereigne and liege lord, by the space of two and twentie yeares and more. And I assure you, said he, there is not so rank a traitor, nor so errant a theef, nor yet so cruell a murtherer apprehended or deteined in prison for his offense, but he shall be brought before the justice to heare his judgement; and will ye proceed to the judgement of an anointed king, hearing neither his answer nor excuse? " 207. / zi^ash azvay my balm : — Richard has before said, III. ii. 54, 55:— " Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balm off from an anointed king." 283. Did keep ten thousand men : — Richard's prodigality is thus described by Holinshed : " He kept the greatest port, and main- teined the most plentiful! house that ever any king in England did either before his time or since. For there resorted dailie to his court above ten thousand persons that had meat and drinke there allowed them. In his kitchen were three hundred servitors, and everie other office was furnished after the like rate. Of ladies, chamberers, and landerers, there were above three hundred at the least. And in gorgious and costlie apparell they exceeded all measure ; not one of them that kept within the bounds of his de- gree. Yeomen and groomes were clothed In sllkes, with cloth of gralne and skarlet, over sumptuous ye may be sure for their estates." 334. Brandes says that the scene of the abdication is admirable by reason of the delicacy of feeling and imagination which Rich- 149 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF ard displays; that his speech when he and Henry have each one hand upon the crown " Now is this golden crown like a deep well," etc., is one of the most beautiful Shakespeare has ever written. " This scene is, however," continues Brandes, " a downright imita- tion of the abdication-scene in Marlowe. When Northumberland in Shakespeare addresses the dethroned king with the word ' lord,' the king answers, ' No lord of thine.' In Marlowe the speech is almost identical : ' Call me not lord ! ' The Shakespearian scene, it should be mentioned, has its history. The censorship under Elizabeth would not suffer it to be printed, and it first appears in the Fourth Quarto, of 1608. The reason of this veto was that Elizabeth, strange as it may appear, was often compared with Richard II. The action of the censorship renders it probable that it was Shakespeare's Richard II. (and not one of the earlier plays on the same theme) which, as appears in the trial of Essex, was acted by the Lord Chamberlain's company before the conspirators, at their leaders' command, on the evening before the outbreak of the rebellion (February 7, 1601). There is nothing inconsistent with this theory in the fact that the players then called it an old pla}^ which was already ' out of use ' ; for the interval between 1593-94 and 1601 was sufficient, according to the ideas of that time, to render a play antiquated. Nor does it conflict with this view that in the last scenes of the play the king is sympathetically treated. On the very points on which he was comparable with Elizabeth there could be no doubt that he was in the wrong; while Henry of Hereford figures in the end as the bearer of England's future, and, for the not oversensitive nerves of the period, that was sufficient. He, who was soon to play a leading part in two other Shakespearian dramas, is here endowed with all the quali- ties of the successful usurper and ruler : cunning and insight, power of dissimulation, ingratiating manners, and promptitude in action." ACT FIFTH. Scene I. 2. Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower : — Tradition assigns the origi- nal building of the Tower to Julius Caesar. Because erected for ill purposes, it is thus referred to by Gray in The Bard : — " Ye towers of Julius, London's lasting shame, With many a foul and midnight murder fed." 150 KING RICHARD II. Notes Scene II. [Enter York and his Duchess.] The first wife of Edmund, Duke of York, was Isabella, daughter of Peter the Cruel, King of Castile and Leon. He married her in 1372, and had by her the Duke of Aumerle, and all his other children. In introducing her the Poet has departed widely from history; for she died in 1394, several years before the events related in the present play. After her death York married Joan, daughter of John Holland, Earl of Kent, who survived him about thirty-four years, and had three other husbands. 23-36. As in a theatre . . . pitied him: — " The painting of this description," says Dryden, " is so lively, and the words so moving, that I have scarce read anything comparable to it in any other language." 43. call him Rutland nozv : — " The dukes of Aumerle. Surrey, and Exeter," says Holinshed, " were deprived of their dukedoms by an Act of Henry's first parliament, but were allowed to retain the earldoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon." 117. In the events of this fine Scene the Poet follows the narra- tive of Holinshed very closely, save in the part of the Duchess : " The Earle of Rutland, departing from Westminster to see hi§ father, as he sat at dinner, had his counterpane of the indenture of the confederacie in his bosome. The father, espieing it, would needs see what it was: and though the sonne humblie denied to shew it, the father, being more earnest to see it, by force tooke it out of his bosome; and, perceiving the contents thereof, in a great rage caused his horsses to be sadled out of hand, and, spitefullie reprooving his sonne of treason, for whom he was become suretie in open parlement, he incontinentlie mounted on horssebacke to ride towards Windsore to the king, to declare unto him the ma- licious intent of his complices. The Earle of Rutland, seeing in what danger he stood, took his horsse and rode another waie to Windsore in post, so that he got thither before his father; and when he was alighted at the castell gate, he caused the gates to be shut, saieing that he must needs deliver the keies to the king. When he came before the king's presence, he kneeled down, be- seeching him of mercie and forgiveness, and, declaring the whole matter unto him, obteined pardon. Therewith came his father, and, being let in, delivered the indenture which he had taken from his sonne, unto the king."' 151 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF Scene III. HoHnshed relates that a conspiracy against King Henry's life was devised mainly by the Abbot of Westminster. The Abbot, having felt the minds of divers lords, and found them apt for his purpose, among whom were Exeter, Surrey, Aumerle, Salisbury, and the Bishop of Carlisle, had them to a feast at his house, where they arranged to hold a tournament at Oxford, to engage the king to be present, and then to slay him suddenly. When all things were ready, Exeter went to the king, earnestly desiring him to grace the occasion with his presence; which he readily promised to do. Their purpose was to restore the crown to Richard, who was yet alive ; but their plot was disclosed to King Henry through the folly or the treachery of Aumerle ; and most of the conspir- ators soon lost their heads for their pains. So. ' T lie Beggar and the King': — The old ballad of King Cophetua and the Beggar Maid is here alluded to. The reader may find it in Percy's Reliques. 137. our trusty hrother-in-laiv : — The brother-in-law was John Holland, Duke of Exeter and Earl of Kent, who was half-brother to Richard H., and who had married the Lady Elizabeth, Boling- broke's sister. Scene V. I et seq. : — " The soliloquy of Richard in Pomfret," says Dow- den, "might almost be transferred, as far as tone and manner are concerned, to one other personage in Shakespeare's plays — to Jaques. The curious intellect of Jaques gives him his distinction. He plays his parts for the sake of understanding the world in his way of superficial fool's-wisdom. Richard plays his parts to pos- sess himself of the aesthetic satisfaction of an amateur in life, with a fine feeling for situations. But each lives in the world of shadow, in the world of mockery wisdom or the world of mock- ery passion." 50 et seq. : — " There are three ways," ingeniously observes Hen- ley, " in which a clock notices the progress of time, viz., by the vibration of the pendulum, the index on the dial, and the striking of the hour. To these the king, in his comparison, severally al- ludes : his sighs corresponding to the jarring or ticking of the pendulum, which, at the same time that it watches or numbers the seconds, marks also their progress in the minutes on the dial or 152 KING RICHARD II. Notes outward watch, to which the king compares his eyes ; and their want of figures is supplied by a succession of tears, or, to use an expression of Milton, minute-drops ; his finger, by as regularly wiping these away, performs the office of the dial-point ; his clam- orous groans are the sounds that tell the hour." 60. Jack 0' the clock : — In Shakespeare's time clocks had minia- ture automatons to strike the hour. This Jack of the clock, as it was called, is often referred to by the old writers. 67. Thanks, noble peer: — The humour of the royal sufferer, as shown in this sprightly retort, is very gentle and graceful. There is some allusion intended to the pieces of coin called royal and noble. 112. here to die: — This whole representation of Richard's death is according to Holinshed. The oldest authority for it is in Cax- ton's additions to Hygden's Polychronicon, and in a manuscript in the Royal Library of Paris. The story is now pretty much ex- ploded ; but it was generally believed in the Poet's time, which be- lief was reason enough why he should follow it. There are two other accounts that are thought to be more deserving of credit than this ; the one representing him to have died of voluntary, the other of compulsory starvation. Here is the account as it stands in Holinshed. " King Henrie, sitting on a dale at his table, said, ' Have I no faithfull freend which will deliver me of him whose life will be my death?' This saieng was much noted of them which were present, and especiallie of one called sir Piers of Exton. This knight incontinentlie departed with eight strong persons in his companie, and came to Pomfret, commanding the esquier that was accustomed to take the assaie before king Rich- ard to doo so no more. King Richard sat downe to dinner, and was served without courtesie, or assaie. whereupon, much mar- velling at the sudden change, he demanded of the esquier why he did not his dutie. ' Sir,' said he, ' I am otherwise commanded by sir Piers of Exton, which is newlie come from king Henrie.' When king Richard heard that word, he tooke the kerving knife in his hand, and strake the esquier on the head, saieng, * The divell take Henrie of Lancaster and thee togither,' And with that word sir Piers entred the chamber with eight tall men, everie of them having a bill in his hand. King Richard, perceiving this, put the table from him, and, steping to the foremost man, wrung the bill out of his hands, and so valiantlie defended himself, that he slue foure of those that thus came to assaile him. Sir Piers, 153 Notes THE TRAGEDY OF being halfe dismaied herewith, lept into the chaire where king Richard was wont to sit, while the other foure persons fought with him, and chased him about the chamber. And in conclu- sion, comming by the chaire where sir Piers stood, he was felled with a stroke of a pollax, which sir Piers gave him upon the head, and therewith rid him out of life." Scene VI. [Windsor castle] Lloyd says: " In the last Act, again Henry has to entertain the charge of his loyalest and best ally against his disloyal and dangerous son; and York urging the punishment of Aumerle on Bolingbroke is in the same relative position as Gaunt giving a party verdict in the council of Richard for the banish- ment of his own son Bolingbroke. Richard takes Gaunt at his word too eagerly, with little thought or consideration for his true feelings, and still does so in a manner to gain no influence by de- cision. Bolingbroke is so far stern as to assert his vigour, and though intending to relent from the first to the prayers of the duchess, enforces persevering supplication ; while, by relenting at last, he rewards York's loyalty, granting his true hopes and wishes, in denying his suit, and we do not doubt obtains thereafter an at- tached adherent in Aumerle. In the last scene of all, we see him among friends and enemies, bold, promising, clement, and dis- simulating, as occasion asks. The realm of England assuredly has passed from a child's caprice to the vigorous sway of a grown and exercised man." 19. This Abbot of Westminster was William of Colchester. The relation, which is taken from Holinshed, is untrue, as he sur- vived the king many years ; and though called " the grand con- spirator," it is very doubtful whether he had any concern in the conspiracy, at least nothing was proved against him. 24. Carlisle, this is your doom : — The Bishop of Carlisle was committed to the Tower, but on the intercession of his friends obtained leave to change his prison for Westminster Abbey. In order to deprive him of his See. the pope, at the king's instance, translated him to a bishopric in partibus inUdclium ; and the only preferment he ever afterwards obtained was a rectory in Glouces- tershire. 154 KING RICHARD II. Questions on Richard II. 1. When was Richard II. written and published? 2. What was its history during Elizabeth's reign, and what was its relation to her personally? 3. Was this subject a favourite of contemporary dramatists? 4. In what ways does it suggest Marlowe's Edward IL? ACT FIRST. 5. What postponement does the King allude to in his first speech? What relations of sovereign and subject does it imply? What trait of personal character is suggested in the fact that there had been such a postponement? 6. What is the manner of Bolingbroke and Mowbray in the presence of the King? 7. What specific accusations does Bolingbroke bring against Mowbray? What dramatic purpose do his speech and Mowbray's reply serve? 8. How does the King propose settling the dispute? Is this a natural sequence of his own past life, as shown by the way he is implicated? 9. Show how force of character possessed by the two accusers bears the King along. 10. In what way is the drama epitomized in the first Scene? 11. What requests has the Duchess of Gloucester made of John of Gaunt? In what way does he answer them? 12. Is religion or politics the higher motive with John of Gaunt ? 13. What sentiment comes into competition with the sentiment of nationality in the second Scene? What bearing has this Scene upon the plot in general ? 14. Point out the dramatic element in Sc. iii. that makes it ef- fective in theatrical representation. In it is there added any commentary on the King? State what it is. 155 Questions THE TRAGEDY OF 15. Name the reasons given by the King for banishing Boling- broke. How does Bolingbroke receive his sentence? t6. What is the dramatic value of the pathos of Mowbray's situation? Why does he end his dramatic life at this point? 17. From the point of view of the King, comment on the oath sworn to by the two exiles. What motives lead the King to shorten the sentence of Bolingbroke? Is this act one of weak- ness 18. Comment on the imaginative qualities possessed by Gaunt. What is indicated of Bolingbroke by his distrust of the imagina- tion? 19. Amid what kind of associations does Sc. iv. show Richard? In what way does he reveal his real motive for banishing Boling- broke ? 20. How is Richard affected by the news of John of Gaunt's illness? Summarize the traits that have been revealed in him by the progress of this Act. 21. What has been laid down in the first Act to show the lines upon which the action of the drama is to proceed? ACT SECOND. 22. What is York's state of mind concerning the King? What does he say of the state of the nation? 23. Does Gaunt's prophecy for England involve a change of sovereigns ? 24. What has Coleridge said of Shakespeare's " eulogium of England,'* Sc. i., lines 40-66? 25. How does Gaunt analyze the King? What effect has this analysis upon Richard? Explain the figure of the pelican (line 126) and show how Gaunt applies it to Richard. 26. How does York protest against Richard's injustice to the heirs of John of Gaunt? What effect have his words upon the King? What do York's words (lines 200-208) foreshadow? 27. Comment on Richard's policy in leaving the kingdom in York's charge during his Irish expedition. 28. How, after the King's exit, is tKe state of the kingdom de- scribed? 29. With what turn in the tide does Sc. i. close? 30. How does the early part of Sc. ii. turn the tables in favour of the King? 156 J KING RICHARD II. Questions 31. What feeling of impending evil does the Queen possess? For what does it prepare? 32. What news is received of the Duchess of Gloucester? What motif of the drama is thus again revived? 3S. From the Duke of York's behaviour what can be argued concerning the King's cause? What assistance does he get from the King's favourites? 34. Sc. iii. marks what change in the powers that work against the King? Who first ally themselves with Bolingbroke? 35. In what words does Bolingbroke first give intimations of his usurping purposes? 36. How is this intention modified when he comes to state his case to York? 37. To what extent does he win York over to his cause? 38. To what direction is sympathetic response won from the spectator? 39. Indicate the purpose of Sc. iv. ACT THIRD. 40. Why does Bolingbroke mention the pernicious influence of the favourites over the King? To what personal motives does this lead? 41. Is Bolingbroke prematurely assuming royal authority? What justifies it? 42. What effect does the sentimentalism of Richard in Sc. ii. produce? 43- Show what conception of kingship Richard expresses in his speech beginning line 36. What is the irony of the situation? 44. What depression and rebound does Richard experience after the news brought by Salisbury? Upon what does he rely? 45. What echo of the preceding ironic stroke is felt? How does news of the favourites affect the King? 46. Comment on the poetic qualities of Richard's speech begin- ning line 144. 47. Review the details of ill-tidings to which the news of York's defection forms a climax. 48. Describe the emotional response of the spectator at this point of the drama. Weigh the division of sympathy between Richard and Bolingbroke. 49. What does York's rebuke to Northumberland in Sc. iii. 157 Questions THE TRAGEDY OF argue concerning his apprehension of the purposes of Boling- brokc ? 50. What message does Bolingbroke send the King? Explain the covert implications of his elaborate metaphor. 51. Upon what argument does the King again fall back? What mood of vacillation succeeds? After the speech beginning line 143 is Richard's deposition assured? 52. How deep is the suffering of a mind that dramatizes its own griefs? Which king enlists more genuine sympathy, Rich- ard or Henry VI.? 53. What is Richard's act when he comes into the presence of Bolingbroke ? 54. Where is the climax of the drama? 55. Is it the moral force of circumstance rather than any overt act of Bolingbroke's that forces Richard's abdication? What is the dramatic purpose of this subtle disunction.'' 56. Comment on the quality of humour contained in So. iv. ; on the degree of its realism; on the part it plays in advancing the plot. ACT FOURTH. 57. Who holds the reins of power in the Parliament-hall? What subject is under investigation? 58. Upon whom does blame fall? How is the King implicated? 59. How does the fact of his complicity help to explain an earlier scene in the drama? 60. What allusion is made to Norfolk? How does this react in Bolingbroke's favour? 61. With what message from Richard does York enter? What is the dramatic purpose of Carlisle's protest? 62. In dealing with Carlisle, how do Henry's methods contrast with Richard's? 63. How does Richard comport himself in surrendering the crown? What are Bolingbroke's words upon receiving it? What do they foreshadow? 64. What is Richard's attitude of mind throughout this entire scene? Does he produce an effect of pathos? 65. Is the mind of the spectator braced by the unemotionalism of Northumberland? What is secured by Henry's emotional neu- trality? 66. What does the order to the Tower portend? How does Henry show his masterfulness? IS8 KING RICHARD II. Questions ACT FIFTH. (i". How is revival of sympathy for Richard effected at the beginning of Sc. i. ? 68. Where does Richard urge the Queen to go? What is her reply ? 69. How does Richard's sentimentalism again express itself? 70. With what orders does Northumberland enter? 71. What were Richard's prophetic words directed to North- umberland? Where do we find realization of them? yz. Explain the little policy there would be in allowing the King to share the Queen's exile in France. 73. When did the events described by York in Sc. ii. take place relative to the present stage of the action? What is ef- fected by this reminiscent note? 74. What is the status of Aumerle? 75. What discovery does York make? How does this intro- duce a new phase of that conflict between family and nationality that has served as a prominent motif in this play? 76. What is York's leading passion? 77. To what motif is allied the conversation upon Prince Hal in Sc. iii.? What further dramatic purpose does this conversa- tion serve? 78. What was Aumerle's purpose in coming before the King? 79. What does York plead concerning his son? What the Duchess of York? 80. Note the emotional effect of this scene. What especial effect is produced by line 119? Does it seem successful in accom- plishing its evident aim? Is its interest more due to its structural than its emotional value? Define the former. 81. What is effected by Sc. iv.? 82. How does Richard spend his hours in prison? What are his reflections on his past? Does he feel penitence? What is the effect of music upon him? 83. What is the effect of the story of roan Barbary? Is it true pathos? 84. What are Exton's doubts after killing the King? How does Henry greet him when he brings the murdered Richard to Windsor Castle? 85. How does Henry define his personal responsibility for the crime? Compare him with King John as the latter tries to 159 Questions throw responsibility for the supposed murder of Arthur upon Hubert. 86. To what conclusion do you come as to the best kind of a ruler for the England of the times with which this drama deals? Does Henry fulfil these requirements? 87. What was the defect in Richard? Was it temperamental or congenital, as seen in Henry VI.? 88. Why does the play present so many recurrent scenes, es- pecially in the last Act, that enlist the sympathies for Richard? Why does Henry play a correspondingly small part in the last Act? 89. A critic has called Richard one of the profoundest concep- tions of Shakespeare. Justify the statement, if you feel it to be true. What makes him an essentially tragic figure? In what sense, if any, is he pitiable? 90. Comment on some of his qualities, like luxuriousness, cowardice, imagination. Does he lack humour? 91. What are the three types of sorrowing women in this play? Which is the more profoundly affecting? 92. Comment on the luxuriance of language in this play. Com- pare this with some play of Shakespeare's later period, and note the difference betv/een his early and his later method in delinea- ting character. 160 UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA-LOS ANGELES L 009 978 299 7 I