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Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross,
Against black Pagans, Turks, and Saracens :
And, toil'd with works of war, retir'd himself
To Italy; and there, at Venice, gave
His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
Boling. Why, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
Car. As sure 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 scepter yields
To the possession of thy royal hand:

Ascend his throne, descending now from him,
And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
Boling. In God's name, I'll 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 nobless would
Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
What subject can give sentence on his king?
And who sits here, that is not Richard's subject?
Thieves are not judg'd, 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 judg'd by subject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present? O, forbid it, God,
That, in a Christian climate, souls refin'd

Should shew so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
Stirr'd up by heaven thus boldly for his king.
My lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king:
And if you crown him, let me prophesy,-
The blood of English 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
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 sculls.
O, if thou rear this house against this house,
It will the woefullest division prove,
That ever fell upon this cursed earth :

Prevent, resist it, let it not be so,

Lest child, child's children, cry against you-woe! North. Well have you argu'd, sir; and, for your pains,

Of capital treason we arrest you here :—
My lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.-
May't please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.
Boling. Fetch hither Richard, that in common

view

He
may surrender, so we shall proceed
Without suspicion.

[Exit.

York. I will be his conduct.Boling. Lords, you that are here under our arrest, Procure your sureties for your days of answer :— Little are we beholden to your love, [To CARLIsle. And little look'd for at your helping hands.

Re-enter YORK, with King RICHARD, and Officers bearing the Crown, &c.

K. Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a king, Before I have shook off the regal thoughts Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee:Give sorrow leave a while 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?
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.

K. Rich. Give me the crown:

seize the crown;

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Here, cousin,

Here, on this side, my hand; on that side, thine.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well,
That owes two buckets filling one another;
The emptier ever dancing in the air,

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.
K. Rich. My crown, I am; but still my griefs
are mine:

You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.

Boling. 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

Your care is

loss of care, by old care done;
gain of care, by new care won:

4 Countenances.

5 Owns.

The cares 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? K. Rich. Ay, no; - no, ay;- for I must nothing

be;

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Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
Now mark me how I will undo myself:
I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy scepter 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 duteous oaths:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny:
God pardon all oaths, that are broke to me!
God keep all vows unbroke, are made to thee!
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd;
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all achiev'd!
Long may'st thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit!
God save king Henry, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine days!
What more remains?

North.

No more, but that you read
[Offering a Paper.

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 depos'd.

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K. Rich. Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, If thy offences were upon record,

Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop,

6 Oil of consecration.

To read a lecture of them? If thou would'st,
There should'st thou find one heinous article,
Containing the deposing of a king,

And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
Mark'd with a blot, mark'd in the book of heaven:-
Nay, all of you, that stand and look upon me,
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
Though some of you are showing outward pity,
Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.

North. My lord, despatch; 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, To undeck the pompous body of a king; Make 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 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,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops! -
Good king, great king,- (and yet not greatl
good,)

An if my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight;

7 Pack.

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