Part 12

Rich. Wee are amaz'd, and thus long haue we stood To watch the fearefull bending of thy knee, Because we thought our selfe thy lawfull King: And if we be, how dare thy ioynts forget To pay their awfull dutie to our presence? If we be not, shew vs the Hand of God, That hath dismiss'd vs from our Stewardship, For well wee know, no Hand of Blood and Bone Can gripe the sacred Handle of our Scepter, Vnlesse he doe prophane, steale, or vsurpe. And though you thinke, that all, as you haue done, Haue torne their Soules, by turning them from vs, And we are barren, and bereft of Friends: Yet know, my Master, God Omnipotent, Is mustring in his Clouds, on our behalfe, Armies of Pestilence, and they shall strike Your Children yet vnborne, and vnbegot, That lift your Vassall Hands against my Head, And threat the Glory of my precious Crowne. Tell Bullingbrooke, for yond me thinkes he is, That euery stride he makes vpon my Land, Is dangerous Treason: He is come to ope The purple Testament of bleeding Warre; But ere the Crowne he lookes for, liue in peace, Ten thousand bloody crownes of Mothers Sonnes Shall ill become the flower of Englands face, Change the complexion of her Maid-pale Peace To Scarlet Indignation, and bedew Her Pastors Grasse with faithfull English Blood

North. The King of Heauen forbid our Lord the King Should so with ciuill and vnciuill Armes Be rush'd vpon: Thy thrice-noble Cousin, Harry Bullingbrooke, doth humbly kisse thy hand, And by the Honorable Tombe he sweares, That stands vpon your Royall Grandsires 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 Honor of himselfe, Comprising all that may be sworne, or said, His comming hither hath no further scope, Then for his Lineall Royalties, and to begge Infranchisement immediate on his knees: Which on thy Royall partie graunted once, His glittering Armes he will commend to Rust, His barbed Steedes to Stables, and his heart To faithfull seruice of your Maiestie: This sweares he, as he is a Prince, is iust, And as I am a Gentleman, I credit him

Rich. Northumberland, say thus: The King returnes, His Noble Cousin is right welcome hither, And all the number of his faire demands Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction: With all the gracious vtterance thou hast, Speake to his gentle hearing kind commends. We doe debase our selfe (Cousin) doe we not, To looke so poorely, and to speake so faire? Shall we call back Northumberland, and send Defiance to the Traytor, and so die? Aum. No, good my Lord, let's fight with gentle words, Till time lend friends, and friends their helpeful Swords

Rich. Oh God, oh God, that ere this tongue of mine, That layd the Sentence of dread Banishment On yond prowd man, should take it off againe With words of sooth: Oh that I were as great As is my Griefe, or lesser then my Name, Or that I could forget what I haue beene, Or not remember what I must be now: Swell'st thou prowd heart? Ile giue thee scope to beat, Since Foes haue scope to beat both thee and me

Aum. Northumberland comes backe from Bullingbrooke

Rich. What must the King doe now? must he submit? The King shall doe it: Must he be depos'd? The King shall be contented: Must he loose The Name of King? o' Gods Name let it goe. Ile giue my Iewels for a sett of Beades, My gorgeous Pallace, for a Hermitage, My gay Apparrell, for an Almes-mans Gowne, My figur'd Goblets, for a Dish of Wood, My Scepter, for a Palmers walking Staffe, My Subiects, for a payre of carued Saints, And my large Kingdome, for a little Graue, A little little Graue, an obscure Graue. Or Ile be buryed in the Kings high-way, Some way of common Trade, where Subiects feet May howrely trample on their Soueraignes Head: For on my heart they tread now, whilest I liue; And buryed once, why not vpon my Head? Aumerle, thou weep'st (my tender-hearted Cousin) Wee'le make foule Weather with despised Teares: Our sighes, and they, shall lodge the Summer Corne, And make a Dearth in this reuolting Land. Or shall we play the Wantons with our Woes, And make some prettie Match, with shedding Teares? As thus: to drop them still vpon one place, Till they haue fretted vs a payre of Graues, Within the Earth: and therein lay'd, there lyes Two Kinsmen, digg'd their Graues with weeping Eyes? Would not this ill, doe well? Well, well, I see I talke but idly, and you mock at mee. Most mightie Prince, my Lord Northumberland, What sayes King Bullingbrooke? Will his Maiestie Giue Richard leaue to liue, till Richard die? You make a Legge, and Bullingbrooke sayes I

North. My Lord, in the base Court he doth attend To speake with you, may it please you to come downe

Rich. Downe, downe I come, like glist'ring Phaeton, Wanting the manage of vnruly Iades. In the base Court? base Court, where Kings grow base, To come at Traytors Calls, and doe them Grace. In the base Court come down: down Court, down King, For night-Owls shrike, where mouting Larks should sing

Bull. What sayes his Maiestie? North. Sorrow, and griefe of heart Makes him speake fondly, like a frantick man: Yet he is come

Bull. Stand all apart, And shew faire dutie to his Maiestie. My gracious Lord

Rich. Faire Cousin, You debase your Princely Knee, To make the base Earth prowd with kissing it. Me rather had, my Heart might feele your Loue, Then my vnpleas'd Eye see your Courtesie. Vp Cousin, vp, your Heart is vp, I know, Thus high at least, although your Knee be low

Bull. My gracious Lord, I come but for mine owne

Rich. Your owne is yours, and I am yours, and all

Bull. So farre be mine, my most redoubted Lord, As my true seruice shall deserue your loue

Rich. Well you deseru'd: They well deserue to haue, That know the strong'st, and surest way to get. Vnckle giue me your Hand: nay, drie your Eyes, Teares shew their Loue, but want their Remedies. Cousin, I am too young to be your Father, Though you are old enough to be my Heire. What you will haue, Ile giue, and willing to, For doe we must, what force will haue vs doe. Set on towards London: Cousin, is it so? Bull. Yea, my good Lord

Rich. Then I must not say, no.

Flourish.

Exeunt.

Scena Quarta.

Enter the Queene, and two Ladies

Qu. What sport shall we deuise here in this Garden, To driue away the heauie thought of Care? La. Madame, wee'le play at Bowles

Qu. 'Twill make me thinke the World is full of Rubs, And that my fortune runnes against the Byas

La. Madame, wee'le Dance

Qu. My Legges can keepe no measure in Delight, When my poore Heart no measure keepes in Griefe. Therefore no Dancing (Girle) some other sport

La. Madame, wee'le tell Tales

Qu. Of Sorrow, or of Griefe? La. Of eyther, Madame

Qu. Of neyther, Girle. For if of Ioy, being altogether wanting, It doth remember me the more of Sorrow: Or if of Griefe, being altogether had, It addes more Sorrow to my want of Ioy: For what I haue, I need not to repeat; And what I want, it bootes not to complaine

La. Madame, Ile sing