Boling.
Call forth Bagot ^note.
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind ^note;
What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death;
Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
The bloody office of his timeless end.

Bagot.
Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.

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 ^note deliver'd ^note.
In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted,
I heard you say, ‘Is not my arm of length,
That reacheth from the restful English court
As far as Calais ^note, to mine ^note uncle's head?’
Amongst much other talk, that very time,
I heard you say that you had rather ^note refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand crowns
Than ^note Bolingbroke's ^note return to England ^note;
Adding withal ^note, how blest this land would be
In this your cousin's death. ^note

Aum.
Princes and ^note noble lords,
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars ^note,
On equal terms to give him ^note chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd ^note
With the attainder ^note of his slanderous lips.
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out for hell: I say ^note, thou liest ^note,
And will ^note maintain what thou hast said is false
In thy heart ^note-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.

Boling.
Bagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.

Aum.
Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence that hath moved me so.

Fitz.
If that thy valour stand on sympathy ^note,
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair sun which ^note shows me where thou stand'st,
I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spakest it,
That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death.
If thou deny'st it twenty times, ^note thou liest;
And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.

Aum.
Thou darest not, coward, live to see that ^note day.

Fitz.
Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.

Aum.
Fitzwater ^note, 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 ^note I do not, may my hands rot off
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!

Another Lord.
I task the earth ^note to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
And spur thee on with full as many lies
As ^note may be holloa'd ^note in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun ^note: there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.

Aum.
Who sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all:

I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
To answer twenty thousand such as you ^note.

Surrey.
My Lord Fitzwater, I do ^note remember well
The very time Aumerle ^note and you did talk ^note.

Fitz.
'Tis very true ^note: you were in presence then;
And you can witness with me this is true.

Surrey.
As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true ^note.

Fitz.
Surrey ^note, thou liest.

Surrey.
Dishonourable boy!
That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword, ^note
That it shall render vengeance and revenge
Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie ^note
In earth as quiet as thy father's skull:
In proof whereof, there is my ^note honour's pawn;
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, ^note
I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my ^note bond of faith,
To tie thee to my strong correction.
As I intend ^note to thrive in this new world,
Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal:
Besides, I heard ^note the banish'd Norfolk say,
That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
To execute the noble duke at Calais.

Aum.
Some honest Christian trust me with a gage,
That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this, ^note
If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.

Boling.
These differences shall all rest under gage
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all ^note his lands and ^note signories: when he's ^note return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.

Car.
That honourable day shall ne'er ^note be seen.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
For Jesu ^note Christ in glorious Christian field,
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens;
And ^note toil'd with works of war, retired himself
To Italy; and there at Venice gave
His body to that ^note pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.

Boling.
Why, bishop ^note, is Norfolk dead?

Car.
As surely ^note as I live, my lord.

Boling.
Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul ^note to the bosom
Of good old ^note Abraham ^note! Lords ^note appellants ^note,
Your differences shall all rest under gage ^note
Till we assign you to ^note your days of trial. Enter York, attended. ^{note note}

York.
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul

Adopts thee ^note heir, and his high sceptre yields
To the possession of thy royal hand:
Ascend his throne, descending now from him;
And long live Henry, fourth of that name ^note!

Boling.
In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.

Car.
Marry ^note, God ^note forbid!
Worst in this royal presence may I ^note speak, ^note
Yet best beseeming me ^note to speak the truth.
Would God that ^note any in this noble presence
Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard! then true noblesse ^note would
Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
What subject can give sentence on his king?
And who sits here ^note 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 ^note,
Anointed, crowned, planted ^note many years,
Be judged by subject ^note and inferior breath ^note,
And he himself not present? O, forfend ^note it, God ^note,
That in a Christian climate souls refined
Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
Stirr'd up by God ^note, thus bo[illeg.]dly 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 ^note 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 skulls.
O, if you ^note raise ^note this house against this ^note house,
It will the woefullest division prove
That ever fell upon this cursed earth.
Prevent it ^note, resist it, let ^note it not be so,
Lest child, child's ^note children, cry against you ‘woe!’

North.
Well have you argued, 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 it please you, lords, to grant the commons' ^note suit.

Boling.
Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender; so we shall proceed
Without suspicion ^note.

York.
I will be his conduct. [Exit. ^note

Boling.
Lords, you that here are ^note under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer. ^note
Little are we beholding ^note to your love,
And little look'd ^note for ^note at your helping hands.

Re-enter ^note York, with Richard, and Officers bearing the regalia. ^note

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 limbs ^note:
Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor ^note me
To this submission. Yet I well ^note remember
The favours of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime ^note cry, ‘all hail!’ to me?
So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve ^note,
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 ^note.
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 ^note Bolingbroke ^note.

K. Rich.
Give me the crown. Here, cousin ^note, seize the crown ^note;
Here cousin ^note;
On this side my hand, and on that side yours ^{note note}.
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 ^note, 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 loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is gain of care, by new care won:
The cares I give, I have, though given away;
They tend ^note the crown, yet still with me they stay.

Boling.
Are you contented to resign the crown?

K. Rich.
Ay, no; no, ay; ^note for I must nothing be;
Therefore no no, ^note for I resign to thee ^note.
Now mark me, how I will undo myself:
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldly sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm ^note,
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 ^note:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
My manors ^note, 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 that swear ^note to thee!
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,
And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved!
Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
And soon lie Richard in an earthy ^note pit!
God save King Harry ^note, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine ^note days ^note! ^note
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 ^note? Gentle ^note Northumberland,
If thy offences were upon record,
Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
To read a lecture of them? ^note 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 ^note of you that stand and look upon ^note,
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait ^note myself,
Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands
Showing an outward pity; yet you ^note Pilates
Have here deliver'd ^note 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
To ^note undeck the pompous body of a king;
Made ^note glory base and sovereignty ^note a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.

North.
My lord,—

K. Rich.
No lord of thine, thou haught ^note insulting ^note man,
Nor ^note 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 ^note of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good ^note,
An if ^note my word ^note be sterling ^note yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither ^note straight,
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his ^note majesty.

Boling.
Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass. [Exit ^note an attendant.

North.
Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.

K. Rich.
Fiend, thou torment'st ^note me ere I come to hell!

Boling.
Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.

North.
The commons will not then be satisfied.

K. Rich.
They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself. Re-enter ^note Attendant, with a glass.
Give me the ^note glass, and therein will I read ^note.
No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity ^note,
Thou dost beguile me ^note! Was this face ^note the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ^note ten thousand men? was this the face
That, like the sun, did make beholders wink? ^note
Was this the face that ^note faced so many follies, ^note
And ^note was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face; [Dashes ^note the glass against the ground.
For there it is, crack'd in a hundred ^note shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport ^{note note},
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 lies all within;
And these external manners ^note of laments ^note
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief,
That swells with silence in the tortured soul ^note;
There lies the substance ^note: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty ^note, that not only givest
Me cause to wail but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it? ^note

Boling.
Name it, fair ^note cousin.

K. Rich.
‘Fair cousin’? ^note I am greater than a king:
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg ^note.

Boling.
Yet ask.

K. Rich.
And shall I have? ^note

Boling.
You ^note shall.

K. Rich.
Then ^note give me leave to go ^note.

Boling.
Whither?

K. Rich.
Whither you will, so I were from your sights ^note.

Boling.
Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.

K. Rich.
O, good! ^note convey? ^note conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall ^note. ^note [Exeunt ^note King Richard, some Lords, and a Guard.

Boling.
On Wednesday next we solemnly set down

^note
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. ^note [Exeunt ^note all except the Bishop of Carlisle, the Abbot of Westminster, and Aumerle. ^note

Abbot.
A woeful pageant have we here beheld.

Car.
The woe's ^note 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, ^note
Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament
To bury mine intents ^note, but also ^note to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise.
I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts ^note of sorrow and your eyes of tears:
Come home with me to supper; and I'll lay
A plot shall show us all a merry day ^note. [Exeunt.

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