Bast.
Keep the peace, I say. Bast.

If thou didst but consent
Sal. Stand by, or I shall gall you, Faulconbridge. To this most cruel act, do but despair,
Bast. Thou wert better gall the devil, Salisbury: And, if thou want'st a cord, the smallest thread
If thou but frown on me, or stir thy foot,

That ever spider twisted from her womb Or teach thy hasty spleen to do me shame,

Will serve to strangle thee: a rush will be I'll strike thee dead. Put up thy sword betime; A beam to hang thee on; or wouldst thou drown Or I'll so maul you and your toasting-iron,

thyself, That you shall think the devil is come from hell. Put but a little water in a spoon, Big. What wilt thou do, renowned Faulcon- ! And it shall be as all the ocean, bridge?

Enough to stite such a villain up. Second a villain, and a murderer?

I do suspect thee very grievously. Hun. Lord Bigot, I am none.

Hub. İrl in act, consent, or sin of thought, Biz.

Who kill'd this prince? Be guilty of the stealing that sweet breath Huh, 'Tis not an hour since I let him well: Which was embounded in this beauteous clay, I honor'd him, I lov'd him; and will weep

Let hell want pains enough to torture me! My date of life out, for his sweet life's loss.

I left him well. Sal. Trust not those cunning waters of his eyes, Bast.

Go, bear him in thine arms.For villany is not without such rheum;?

I am amaz'd, methinks; and lose my way And he, long traded in it, makes it seem

Among the thorns and dangers of this world. Like rivers of remorse and innocency.

How easy dost thou take all England up! Away, with me, all you whose souls abhor

From forth this morsel of dead royalty, The uncleanly savors of a slaughter-house,

The life, the right, and truth of'all this realm For I am stified with the smell of sin.

Is iled to heaven; and England now is leit Big. Away, toward Bury, to the Dauphin there. To tug and scramble, and to part by the teeth Pem. There, tell the king, he may inquire us out. The unowed interest of proud swelling state.

(Exeunt Lords. Now, for the barc-pick'd bone of majesty, Bast. Here's a good world!-Knew you of this Doth dogged war bristle his angry crest, fair work!

And snarleth in the gentle eyes of peace: Beyond the intinite and boundless reach

Now powers from home, and discontents at home of mercy, if thon didst this deed of death,

Meet in one line; and vast confusion waits Art thou damn'd, Hubert.

(As doth a raven on a sick-fallen beast) Huh.

Do but hear me, sir. The imminent decay of wrested pomp. Bast. Ha! I'll tell thee what;

Now happy he, whose cloak and cinciure can Thou art damn'd as black--nay, nothing is so black; Hold out this tempest. Bear away that child, Thou art more deep damn'd than prince Lucifer: And follow me with speed; I'll to the king: There is not yet so ugly a fiend of hell

A thousand businesses are brief in hand,
As thou shalt be, if thou didst kill this child. And heaven itseli doth frown upon the land.
Hub. Upon my soul,-

[Exeunt

ACT V.

SCENE I.-A Room in the Palace.

Your nobles will not hear you, but are gone

To offer service to your enemy;
Enter King John, PANDULPH with the Crown, and And wild ainazement hurries up and down
Attendants.

The little number of your doubiful friends.
K. John. Thus have I yielded up into your hand

K. John. Would not my lords return to me again, The circle of my glory.

After they heard young Arthur was alive?
Pand.
Take again

Bast. They found him dead, and cast into the (Giving Join the Crown.

streets; From this my hand, as holding of the pope,

An empty casket, where the jewel of life Your sovereign greatness and authority.

By some curst hand was robb’d and ta'en away. K. John. Now keep your holy word: go meet

K. John. That villain lubert told me he did live the French;

Bast. So, on my soul, he did, for aught he knew And from his holiness use all your power

But wherefore do you droop? why look you sad? To stop their marches, 'fore we are intlamed.

Be great in act, as you have been in thought; Our discontented counties do revolt;

Let not the world see fear, and sad distrust,

Govern the motion of a kingly eye:
Our people quarrel with obedience;
Swearing allegiance, and the love of soul,

Be stirring as the time; be tire with fire;
To stranger blood, to foreign loyalty.

Threaten the threat'ner, and outtace the brow This inundation of distemper'd humor

Of brayging honor: so shall interior eyes, Rests by you only to be qualified.

That borrow their behaviors from the great, Then pause not; for the present time's so sick, Grow great by your example, and put on That present medicine must be minister'd,

The dauntless spirit of resolution. Or overthrow incurable ensues.

Away; and glister like the god of war,
Pand. It was my breath that blew this tempest up, Show boldness, and aspiring contidence.

When he intendeth to become the field:
Upon your stubborn usage of the pope:
But since you are a gentle convertite, :

What, shall they seek the lion in his den,
My tongue shall hush again this storm of war,

And fright him there? and make him tremble there? And make fair weather in your blustering land.

0, let it not be said!--Forage, and run On this Ascension-day, remember well,

To meet displeasure further from the doors; Upon your oath of service to the pope,

And grapple with him, ere he comes so nigh. Go I to make the French lay down their arms. (Erit

K. John. The legate of the pope hath been with K. John. Is this Ascension-day? Did not the prophet

And I have made a happy peace with him; Say, that, before Ascension-day at noon,

And he hath promis'd to dismiss the powers My crown I should give ofl'? Even so I have: Led by the Dauphin.

Bast. I did suppose it should be on constraint;

O inglorious league! But heaven be thank’d, it is but voluntary.

Shall we, upon the footing of our land,

Send fair-play orders, and make compromise, Enter the Bastard.

Insinuation, parley, and base truce, Bast. All Kent hath yielded; nothing there holds To arms invasive? Shall a beardless boy, out,

A cocker'de silken wanton, brave our fields But Dover castle: London hath receiv'd,

And tlesh his spirit in a warlike soil, Like a kind host, the Dauphin and his powers: Mocking the air with colors idly spread, 1 Moisture.

me,

And find no check? Let us, my liege, to arms: Therefore thy threat'ning colors now wind up,
Perchance, the cardinal cannot make your peace; And tame the savage spirit of wild war;
Or if he do, let it at least be said,

That, like a lion foster'd up at hand,
They saw we had a purpose of defence.

It may lie gently at the foot of peace, Ki John. Have thou the ordering of this present And be no further harmful than in show. time.

Lew. Your grace shall pardon me, I will not Bast. Away then, with good courage; yet, I know,

back;
Our party may well meet a prouder foe. (Exeunt. I am too high-born to be propertied,

To be a secondary at control,
SCENE II.-A Plain near St. Edmund's Bury. Or useful serving-man, an instrument,

To any sovereign state throughout the world.
Enter, in arms, LEWIS, SALISBURY, MELUN,

Your breath first hindled the dead coal ot wars, PEMBROKE, Bigot, and Soldiers.

Between this chastis'd kingdom and myselt, Lew. My lord Melun, let this be copied out, And brought in matter that should feed this tire; And keep it safe for our remembrance:

And now 'tis far too huge to be blown out Return the precedent to these lords again;

With that same weak wind which enkindled it. That, having our fair order written down,

You taught me how to know the face of right, Both they, and we, perusing o'er these notes, Acquainted me with interest to this land, May know wherefore we took the sacrament,

Yea, thrust this enterprise into my heart; And keep our faiths firm and inviolable.

And come you now to tell me, John lrath made Sal. Upon our sides it never shall be broken. His peace with Rome? What is that peace to me? And, noble Dauphin, albeit we swear

1, by the honor of my marriage-bed, A voluntary zeal, and unurged faith,

After young Arthur, claim this land for mine; To your proceedings; yet, believe me, prince, And, now it is halı-conquered, must I back, I am not glad that such a sore of time

Because that John hath inade his peace with Romo? Should seek a plaster by contemn'd revolt,

Am I Rome's slave? What penny hath Rome borne, And heal the inveterate canker of one wound,

What men provided, what mumtion sent, By making many: 0, it grieves my soul,

To underprop this action is't not I, That I must draw this metal from my side

That undergo this charge? who else but I, To be a widow-maker; 0, and there,

And such as to my claim are liable, Where honorable rescue, and defence,

Sweat in this business, and maintain this war? Cries out upon the name of Salisbury:

Have I not heard these islanders shout out, But such is the infection of the time,

Vive le roy! as I have bank'd their towns ? That, for the health and physic of our right,

Have I not here the best cards for the game, We cannot deal but with the very hand

To win this easy match play'd for a crown Of stern injustice and confused wrong:

And shall I now give o'er the yielded set? And is't not pity, O my grieved friends!

No, on my soul, it never shall be said. That we, the sons and children of this isle,

Pand. You look but on the outside of this work. Were born to see so sad an hour as this;

Lew. Outside or inside, I will not return Wherein we step after a stranger march

Till my attempt so much be gloritied Upon her gentle bosom, and fill up

As to my ample hope was promised Her enemies' ranks, (I must withdraw and weep

Before I drew this gallant head of war, Upon the spot of this entorced cause,)

And cull'd these fiery spirits from the world, To grace the gentry of a land remote,

To outlook conquest, and to win renown And follow unacquainted colors here?

Even in the jaws of danger and of death.-What here?-0 nation, that thou couldst remove!

[Trumpet sounds. That Neptune's arins, who clippedthee about,

What lusty trumpet thus doth summon us?
Would bear thee from the knowledge of thyself,

Enter the Bastard, attended.
And grapple thee unto a pagan shore;
Where these two Christian armies might combine Let me have audience; I am sent to speak:

Bast. According to the fair play of the world,
The blood of malice in a vein of league,
And not to spend it so unneighborly!

My holy lord of Milan, from the king Lew. A noble temper dost thou show in this;

I come, to learn how you have dealt for him; And great affections wrestling in thy bosom,

And, as you answer, I do know the scope Do make an earthquake of' nobility:

And warrant limited unto my tongue. 0, what a noble combat hast thou fought,

Pant. The Dauphin is too wiltul-opposite, Between compulsion and a brave respect!8

And will not temporize with my entreaties; Let me wipe off this honorable dew,

He flatly says, he'll not lay down his arms. That silverly doth progress on thy cheeks:

Bast. By all the blood that ever fury breath'd, My heart hath melted at a lady's tears,

The youth says well:-Now hear our English king; Being an ordinary inundation;

For thus his royalty doth spouk in me. But this effusion of such manly drops,

He is prepared; and reason too, he should: This shower, blown up by tempest of the soul,

This apish and winannerly approach, Startles mine eyes, and makes me more amaz'd

This harness'd masque, and unadvised revel, Than had I scen the vaulty top of heaven

This unhair'd sauciness, and boyish troops, Figur'd quite o’er with burning meteors.

The king doth smile at; and is well prepar'd Liit up thy brow, renowned Salisbury,

To whip the dwartish war, these pigmy arms,

From out the circle of his territories.
And with a great heart heave away this storm:
Commend these waters to those baby eyes,

That hand which had the strength, even at your

door, That never saw the giant world enraged; Nor met with fortune other than at feasts,

To cudgel you, and make you take the hatch;? Full warm of blood, of mirth, of gossiping.

To dive like buckets, in concealed weils;
Come, come; for thou shalt thrust thy hand as deep | To lie, like pawns, lock'd up in chests and trunks;

To crouch in litter of your stable planks;
Into the purse of rich prosperity,
As Lewis himself:—so, noble, shall you all,

To hug with swine; to seek sweet safety out That knit your sinews to the strength of mine.

In vaults and prisons; and to thrill and shake,

Even at the crying ol your nation's crow, 3
Enter PANDULPH, attended.

Thinking his voice an armed Englishman;

Shall that victorious hand be feebled here,
And even there, methinks, an angel spake:
Look, where the holy legate comes a pace,

That in your chambers gave you chastisement?

No: Know the gallant monarch is in arms;
To give us warrant from the hand of heaven;

And like an eagle o'er his aiery towers,
And on our actions set the name of right,
With holy breath.

To souse annoyance that comes near his nest.

And you degenerate, you ingrate revolts, Pand.

Hail, noble prince of France! You bloody Neroes, ripping up the womb The next is this,-king John hath reconciled

Of your dear mother England, blush for shame: Himself to Rome; his spirit is come in, That so stood out against the holy church,

For your own ladies, and pale-visaged maids,

Like Amazons, come tripping alter drums; The great metropolis and see of Rome:

Appropriated. Face down. ? Leap over the hatch. Embraceth. 8 Love of country. 3 The crowing of a cock.

6

Their thimbles into armed gauntlets change, What in the world should make me now deceive,
Their neelds to lances, and their gentle hearts Since I must lose the use of all deceit?
To fierce and bloody inclination.

Why should I then be false; since it is true Lew. There end thy brave, 6 and turn thy face in That I must die here, and live hence by truth? peace;

I say again, it Lewis do win the day,
We grant, thou canst outscold us: fare thee well; He is forsworn, it e'er those eyes of yours
We hold our time too precious to be spent

Behold another day break in ihe east:
With such a brabbler.

But even this night.-whose black contagious breath Pand.

Give me leave to speak. Already smokes about the burning crest Bast. No, I will speak.

Of the old, teeble, and day-wearied sun,Lew.

We will attend to neither:- Even this ill night your breathing shall expire; Strike up the drums; and let the tongue of war Paying the fine of rated treachery, Plead for our interest, and our being here.

Even with a treacherous line of all your lives, Bast. Indeed, your drums being beaten, will cry Ir Lewis by your assistance win the day. out;

Commend me to one Hubert, with your king; And so shall you, being beaten: Do but start The love or hiin,-and this respect besides, An echo with the clamor of thy drum,

For that my grandsire was an Englishunan,-And even at hand a drum is ready braced,

Awakes my conscience to contess all this. That shall reverberate all as loud as thine; In lieu whereot, I pray you bear me hence Sound but another, and another shall,

From forth the noise and rumor of the field; As loud as thine, rattle the welkin'si ear,

Where I may think the remnant of my thoughts And mock the deep-mouth'd thunder; for at hand in peace, and part this body and my soul (Not trusting to this halting legate here,

With contemplation and devour desires.
Whom he hath used rather for sport than need) Sul. We do believe thee.-And beshrew my soul
Is warlike John; and in his forehead sits

But I do love the favor and the form
A bare-ribb'd death, whose office is this day Of this most fair occasion, by the which
To feast upon whole thousands of the French. We will untread the steps of damned flight;

Lew. Strike up our drums to find this danger out. And, like a bated and retired tlood,
Bast. And thou shalt find it, Dauphin, do not doubt. Leaving our rankuess and irregular course,

(Exeunt. Stoop low within those bounds we have o'erlook'd, . SCENE III.-A Field of Battle.

And calmly run on in obedience,

Even to our ocean, to our great king John.Alarums. Enter KING JOHN, and H[BERT.

My arm shall give thee help to bear thee hence; K. John. How goes the day with us? 0, tell me, For I do see the cruel pangs of death Hubert.

Right in thine cye.--Away, my friends! New flight: Hub. Badly, I fear: How fares your majesty? And happy newness, that intends old right. K. John. This fever, that hath troubled me so long,

[Exeunt, learling of Melun. Lies heavy on me: 0, my heart is sick!

SCENE V.- The French Camp.
Enter a Messenger.

Enter Lewis and his Train.
Mess. My lord, your valiant kinsman, Faulcon-
bridge,

Lew. The sun of heaven, methought, was loth to Desires your majesty to leave the field;

set; And send him word by me, which way you go. But stay'd and made the western welkin blush, K. John. Tell him toward Swinstead, to the When the English measur'd backward their own abbey there.

ground,
Mess. Be of good comfort; for the great supply In faint retire: 0, bravely came we off,
That was expected by the Dauphin here,

When with a volley of our needless shot,
Are wreck'd three nights ago on Good Ln sands. After such bloody toil we bid good night;
This news was brought to Richard but even now: And wound our tatter'd colors clearly up,
The French tight coldly, and retire themselves. Last in the field, and almost lords of it!
K. John. Ah me! this tyrant fever burns me up,

Enter a Messenger.
And will not let me welcome this good news.
Set on toward Swinstead: to my litter straight:

Mess. Where is my prince, the Dauphin?
Lew.

Here:- What news? Weakness possesseth me, and I am faint. [Exeunt.

Mess. The count Melun is slain; the English lords, SCENE IV.-Another Part of the same.

By his persuasion, are again fall'n off: Enter SALISBURY, PEMBROKE, Bigot, and others.

And your supply, which you have wish'd so long,

Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin sands. Sal. I did not think the king so stor'd with friends. Lew. Ah, fiul shrewd news!-Beshrew thy very Pem. Up once again; put spirit in the French;

neart! If they miscarry, we miscarry too.

I did not think to be so sad to-night, Sal. That misbegotten devil, Faulconbridge, As this hath made me.- Who was he, that said, In spite of spite, alone upholds the day.

King John did fly, an hour or two before Pem. They say, king John, sore sick, hath left The stumbling night did part our weary powers? the field.

Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord. Enter MELUN wounded, and led by Soldiers.

Lew. Well; keep good quarter, and good care

to-night; Mel. Lead me to the revolts of England here.

The day shall not be up so soon as I, Sal. When we were happy, we had other names. To try the fair adventure of to-morrow. (Exeunt. Pem. It is the count Melun. Sul.

Wounded to death. SCENE VI.-An open Place in the Neighborhood Mel. Fly, noble English, you are boughtand sold;8

of Swinstead-Abbey. Unthread the rude eye of rebellion,

Enter the Bastard and HUBERT meeting.
And welcome home again discarded faith.
Seek out king John, and fall before his feet;

Hub. Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly, oi For, if the French be lords of this loud day,

I shoot. Hemeans to recompense the pains you take,

Bast. A friend :- What art thou? By cutting off your heads: Thus hath he sworn,

Hub.

Of the part of England And I with him, and many more with me,

Bast. Whither dost thou go? Upon the altar at St. Edmund's Bury;

Hub. What's that to thee? Why may not I demand Even on that altar, where we swore to you

Of thine atlairs, as well as thou of mine? Dear amity and everlasting love.

Bast. Hubert, I think. Sal. May this be possible? may this be true?

Hub.

Thou hast a perfect thought: Mel. Have I not hideous death within my view,

I will, upon all hazards, well believe Retaining but a quantity of life;

Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so well: Which bleeds away, even as a form of wax

Who art thou? Resolved trom his figure 'gainst the fire ?

Bast.

Who thou wilt: an if thou please, 6 Needles.

Thou mayst befriend me so much as to think 6 Boast. A proverb intimating treachery.

I come one way of the Plantagenets.

Lewis. * In allusion to the images made by witches.

2 Innovation.

7 Sky.

ear.

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou, and eyeless | To thrust his icy fingers in my maw; night,

Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course Have done me shame:-Brave soldier, pardon me, Through my burn’d bosom; nor entreat the north That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, Should 'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. And comfort me with cold:- I do not ask you much, Bast. Come, come; sans 3 compliment, what news I beg cold comfort; and you are so straits abroad?

And so ingrateful, you deny me that. Hub. Why, here walk I, in the black brow of night, P. Hen. O, that there were some virtuein my tears, To find you out.

That might relieve you!
Bast.

Brief, then; and what's the news? K. John. The salt in them hot.-
Hub. O, my sweet sir, news fitting to the night, Within me is a hell; and there the poison
Black, fearful, comfortless, and horrible.

Is, as a fiend, contined to tyrannize
Bast. Show me the very wound of this ill news; On unreprievable condemned blood.
I am no woman, I'll not swoon at it.

Enter the Bastard. Hub. The king, I fear, is poison'd by a monk:

Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion, I left him almost speechless, and broke out

And spleen ot'speed to see your majesty. To acquaint you with this evil; that you might

K. John. () cousin, thou art come to set mine eye: The better arm you to the sudden time, Than if you had at leisure known of this.

The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd; Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to him? Are turned to one thread, one little hair:

And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should sail, Hub. A monk, I tell you: a resolved villain,

My heart hath one poor string to stay it by,
Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king

Which holds but till thy news be uttered;
Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover.
Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty? And then all this thou see'st, is but a clod,

And modules of confounded royalty:
Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are all

Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward; come back, And brought prince Henry in their company;

Where, heaven he knows, how we shall answer him:

For, in a night, the best part of my power,
At whose request the king has pardon'd them,
And they are all about his majesty.

As I upon advantage did remove,
Bast. Withold thine indignation, mighty heaven! Devoured by the unexpected flood. (The King dues.

Were in the washes, all unwarily, And tempt us not to bear above our power!

Sal. You breathe these dead news in as dead an I'll tell thee, Hubert, hali my power ihis night, Passing these flats, are taken by the tide,

My liege! my lord !-But now a king,-now thus. These Lincoln washes have devoured them;

P. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so stop, Myself, well mounted, hardly have escaped.

What surety of the world, what hope, what stay, Away, before! conduct me to the king; I doubt, he will be dead, or e’er I come. (Exeunt. When this was not a king, and now is clay!

Bast. Art thou gone so? do but stay behind, SCENE VII.- The Orchard of Swinstead-Abbey.

To do the office for thee of revenge;

And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, Enter Prince HENRY, SALISBURY, and Bigot.

As it on earth hath been thy servant still. P. Hen. It is too late; the life of all his blood Now, now, you stars, that move in your rightspheres, Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain

Where be your powers? Show now your mended (Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling

faiths; house)

And instantly return with me again, Doth by the idle comments that it makes,

To push destruction, and perpetual shame,
Foretel the ending of mortality.

Out of the weak door of our fainting land:
Enter PEMBROKE.

Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be sought; Pem. His highness yet doth speak; and holds The Paupain rages at our very heels.

Sal. It seems you know not then so much as we: belief,

The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, That, being brought into the open air,

Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin; It would allay the burning quality.

And brings from him such offers of our peace Of that fell poison which assaileth him.

As we with honor and respect may take, P. Hen. Let him be brought into the orchard With purpose presently to leave this war. here.

Bast. He will the rather do it, when he sees Doth he still rage?

[Exit Bigot. Ourselves well sinewed to our defence. Pem. He is more patient

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; Than when you left him; even now he sung.

For many carriages he hath despatch'd P. Hen. ( vanity of sickness! fierce extremes,

To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel In their continuance, will not feel themselves.

To the disposing of the cardinal: Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,

With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, Leaves them insensible; and his siege is now Against the mind, the which he pricks and wounds To consummate this business happily.

If you think meet, this aiternoon will post With many legions of strange fantasies;

Bast. Let it be so:- And you, my noble prince, Which, in their throng and press to that last hold, with other princes that may best be spared, Confound themselves. 'Tis strange, that death Shall wait upon your father's funeral, should sing.

P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be interr'd; I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,

For so he will'd it. Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death;

Bast.

Thither shall it then.
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings

And happily may your sweet self put on
His soul and body to their lasting rest.
Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you are born To whom, with all submission, on my knee,

The lineal state and glory of the land!
To set a form upon that indigest

I do bequeath my faithful services Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude.

And true subjection everlastingly. Re-enter Bigot and Attendants, who bring in KING Sal. And the like lender of our love we make, Join in a Chair.

To rest without a spot for evermore. K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow- P. llen. I have a kind soul, that would give you

thanks, room It would not out at windows, nor at doors.

And knows not how to do it, but with tears. There is so hot a summer in my bosom,

Barst. 0, let us pay the time but needful woe, That all my bowels crumble up to dust:

Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen

This England never did nor never shall) Upon a parchment; and against this fire

Lic at the proud foot of a conqueror, Do I shrink up.

But when it first did help to wound itself. P. Hen. How fares your majesty ?

Now these her princes are come home again, K. John. Poison'd,-ill fare;--dead, forsook, cast Come the three corners of the world in arms, off;

And we shall shock them: Noughtshall make usrue, And none of you will bid the winter come, If England to itself do rest but true. (Exeunt. 9 Without. * Narrow, avaricious.

Model.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF

KING RICHARD II.

PERSONS REPRESENTED. King RICHARD THE SECOND.

| LORD Ross. LORD WILLOUGHBY.
EDMOND OF LANGLEY, Duke of York; / Uncles to LORD FITZWATER.
JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke of Lancaster; } the King. BISHOP OF CARLISLE. ARBOT OF WESTMINSTER.
HENRY, surnamed Bolingbroke, Duke of Hereford, Lord Marshal; and another Lord.

Son lo John of Gaunt; afterwards K. Henry IV. SIR PIERCE OF Exton. SiR STEPHEN SCROOP.
DUKE OF AUMERLE, Son to the Duke of York. Captain of a Band of Welshmen.
MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk.
DUKE OF SURREY.

QUEEN to King Richard.
EARL OF SALISBURY. EARL BERKELEY.

DUCHESS OF GLOSTER. BUSHY,

DUCHESS OF YORK.
BAGOT, Creatures to King Richard.

Lady, attending on the Queen.
GREN,
EARL OF NORTHUMBERLAND.

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two Gardeners, HENRY PERCY, his Son.

Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants. SCENE, dispersedly in England and Wales.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace. Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object

Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? Enter King RICHARD, attended: John of GAUNT, Boling. First, (heaven be the record to my speech!) and other Nobles, with him.

In the devotion of a subject's love, K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honor'd Lan- Tendering the precious safety of my prince, caster,

And free from other misbegotten hate, Hast thou, according to thy oath and band, 1 Come l appellant to this princely presence.Brought hither Henry Hereford, thy bold son; Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee, liere to make good the boisterous late appeal, And mark my greeting well; for what I speak, Which then our leisure would not let us hear, My body shail make good upon this earth, Against the Duke of Nortolk, Thomas Mowbray? Or my divine soul answer it in heaven. Guunt. I have, my liege.

Thou art a traitor, and a miscreant; K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded Too good to be so, and too bad to live: him,

Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky, If he appeal the duke on ancient malice;

The uglier scem the clouds that in it tly. Or worthily as a good subject should,

Once more, the more to aggravate the note, On some known ground of treachery in him ? With a foul traitor's name sturl' I thy throat; Gaunt. As near as I could sitt hiin on that argu- And wish, (so please my sovereign.) ere I move, ment,

What my tongue speaks, my right-drawnsword may On some apparent danger seen in him,

prove. Aim'd at your highness; no inveterate malice. Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal: K. Rich. Then call them to our presence; face 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war, to face,

The bitter clamor of two eager tongues, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain: The accuser, and the accused, freely speak: The blood is hot, that must be cool'd for this,

(Exeunt some Attendants. Yet can I not of such tame patience boast, High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire, As to be hush'd, and nought at all to say: In rage deatas the sea, hasty as tire.

First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs mo

From giving reins and spurs to my free speech: Re-enter Attendants, with BOLING BROKE and NORFOLK.

Which else would post, until it had return'd

These terms of treason doubled down his throat. Boling. May many years of happy days befall Setting aside his high blood's royalty, My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! And let him be no kinsman to my liege,

Nor. Each day still better other's happiness; I do defy him, and I spit at him; Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap, Call him-a slanderous coward, and a villain: Add an immortal title to your crown!

Which to maintain, I would allow him odus, K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but Nat- And meet him, were I tied to run a-toot

Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps, As well appeareth by the cause you come;

Or any other ground inhabitable, Namely, io appeal each other of high treason. Wherever Englishman durst set his foot. 1 Bond.

Uninhabitable.

ters us,