Boling.
So that by this intelligence we learn,
The Welshmen are dispers'd; 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. Ah, the heavy day,
When such a sacred King should hide his head!

North.
Your Grace mistakes me; only to be brief,
Left I his Title out.

York.
The time hath been,
Would you have been so brief with him, he would
Have been so brief with You, to shorten you,
For taking so the Head, the whole Head's Length.

Boling.
Mistake not, uncle, farther than you should.

York.
Take not, good cousin, farther than you should,

Lest you mistake, the heav'ns are o'er your head.

Boling.
I know it, uncle, nor oppose my self
Against their will. But who comes here? Enter Percy.
Welcome, Harry; what, will not this castle yield?

Percy.
The castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against your 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 yond lime and stone;
And with him lord Aumerle, lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergy-man
Of holy reverence: who, I cannot learn.

North.
Belike, it is the bishop of Carlisle.

Boling.
Noble lord, [To North.
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle,
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry of Bolingbroke upon his knees
Doth kiss King Richard's hand, and sends allegiance
And faith of heart unto his royal person:
Ev'n at his feet I lay my arms and pow'r,
Provided, that my banishment repeal'd,
And lands restor'd again, be freely granted:
If not, I'll use th' advantage of my pow'r,
And lay the summer's dust with show'rs of blood,
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen.
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's Land,
My stooping duty tenderly shall shew.
Go signifie as much, while here we march
Upon the grassie carpet of this Plain;
Let's march without the noise of threat'ning drum,
That from this Castle's tatter'd battlements

Our fair appointments may be well perus'd.
Methinks, King Richard and my self should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thund'ring Shock,
At meeting, tears the cloudy cheeks of heav'n:
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water;
The rage be his, while on the earth I rain
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.

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