1361Rich. Barkloughly Castle call you this at hand?

1362Au. Yea, my Lord: how brooks your Grace the ayre,

1363After your late tossing on the breaking Seas?

1364Rich. Needs must I like it well: I weepe for ioy

1365To stand vpon my Kingdome once againe.

1366Deere Earth, I doe salute thee with my hand,

1367Though Rebels wound thee with their Horses hoofes:

1368As a long parted Mother with her Child,

1369Playes fondly with her teares, and smiles in meeting;

1370So weeping, smiling, greet I thee my Earth,

1371And doe thee fauor with my Royall hands.

1372Feed not thy Soueraignes Foe, my gentle Earth,

1373Nor with thy Sweetes, comfort his rauenous sence:

1374But let thy Spiders, that suck vp thy Venome,

1375And heauie-gated Toades lye in their way,

1376Doing annoyance to the trecherous feete,

1377Which with vsurping steps doe trample thee.

1378Yeeld stinging Nettles to mine Enemies;

1379And when they from thy Bosome pluck a Flower,

1380Guard it I prethee with a lurking Adder,

1381Whose double tongue may with a mortall touch

1382Throw death vpon thy Soueraignes Enemies.

1383Mock not my sencelesse Coniuration, Lords;

1384This Earth shall haue a feeling, and these Stones

1385Proue armed Souldiers, ere her Natiue King

1386Shall falter vnder foule Rebellious Armes.

1387Car. Feare not my Lord, that Power that made you King

1388Hath power to keepe you King, in spight of all.

1389Aum. He meanes, my Lord, that we are too remisse,

1390Whilest Bullingbrooke through our securitie,

1391Growes strong and great, in substance and in friends.

1392Rich. Discomfortable Cousin, knowest thou not,

1393That when the searching Eye of Heauen is hid

1394Behind the Globe, that lights the lower World,

1395Then Theeues and Robbers raunge abroad vnseene,

1396In Murthers and in Out-rage bloody here:

1397But when from vnder this Terrestriall Ball

1398He fires the prowd tops of the Easterne Pines,

1399And darts his Lightning through eu'ry guiltie hole,

1400Then Murthers, Treasons, and detested sinnes

1401(The Cloake of Night being pluckt from off their backs)

1402Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselues.

1403So when this Theefe, this Traytor Bullingbrooke,

1404Who all this while hath reuell'd in the Night,

1405Shall see vs rising in our Throne, the East,

1406His Treasons will sit blushing in his face,

1407Not able to endure the sight of Day;

1408But selfe-affrighted, tremble at his sinne.

1409Not all the Water in the rough rude Sea

1410Can wash the Balme from an anoynted King;

1411The breath of worldly men cannot depose

1412The Deputie elected by the Lord:

1413For euery man that Bullingbrooke hath prest,

1414To lift shrewd Steele against our Golden Crowne,

1415Heauen for his Richard hath in heauenly pay

1416A glorious Angell: then if Angels fight,

1417Weake men must fall, for Heauen still guards the right.

1419Welcome my Lord, how farre off lyes your Power?

1420Salisb. Nor neere, nor farther off, my gracious Lord,

1421Then this weake arme; discomfort guides my tongue,

1422And bids me speake of nothing but despaire:

1423One day too late, I feare (my Noble Lord)

1424Hath clouded all thy happie dayes on Earth:

1425Oh call backe Yesterday, bid Time returne,

1426And thou shalt haue twelue thousand fighting men:

1427To day, to day, vnhappie day too late

1428Orethrowes thy Ioyes, Friends, Fortune, and thy State;

1429For all the Welchmen hearing thou wert dead,

1430Are gone to Bullingbrooke, disperst, and fled.

1431Aum. Comfort my Liege, why lookes your Grace so

1432pale?

1433Rich. But now the blood of twentie thousand men

1434Did triumph in my face, and they are fled,

1435And till so much blood thither come againe,

1436Haue I not reason to looke pale, and dead?

1437All Soules that will be safe, flye from my side,

1438For Time hath set a blot vpon my pride.

1439Aum. Comfort my Liege, remember who you are.

1440Rich. I had forgot my selfe. Am I not King?

1441Awake thou sluggard Maiestie, thou sleepest:

1442Is not the Kings Name fortie thousand Names?

1443Arme, arme my Name: a punie subiect strikes

1444At thy great glory. Looke not to the ground,

1445Ye Fauorites of a King: are wee not high?

1446High be our thoughts: I know my Vnckle Yorke

1447Hath Power enough to serue our turne.

1448But who comes here? Enter Scroope.

1449Scroope. More health and happinesse betide my Liege,

1450Then can my care-tun'd tongue deliuer him.

1451Rich. Mine eare is open, and my heart prepar'd:

1452The worst is worldly losse, thou canst vnfold:

1453Say, Is my Kingdome lost? why 'twas my Care:

1454And what losse is it to be rid of Care?

1455Striues Bullingbrooke to be as Great as wee?

1456Greater he shall not be: If hee serue God,

1457Wee'l serue him too, and be his Fellow so.

1458Reuolt our Subiects? That we cannot mend,

1459They breake their Faith to God, as well as vs:

1460Cry Woe, Destruction, Ruine, Losse, Decay,

1461The worst is Death, and Death will haue his day.

1462Scroope. Glad am I, that your Highnesse is so arm'd

1463To beare the tidings of Calamitie.

1464Like an vnseasonable stormie day,

1465Which make the Siluer Riuers drowne their Shores,

1466As if the World were all dissolu'd to teares:

1467So high, aboue his Limits, swells the Rage

1468Of Bullingbrooke, couering your fearefull Land

1469With hard bright Steele, and hearts harder then Steele:

1470White Beares haue arm'd their thin and hairelesse Scalps

1471Against thy Maiestie, and Boyes with Womens Voyces,

1472Striue to speake bigge, and clap their female ioints

1473In stiffe vnwieldie Armes: against thy Crowne

1474Thy very Beads-men learne to bend their Bowes

1475Of double fatall Eugh: against thy State

1476Yea Distaffe-Women manage rustie Bills:

1477Against thy Seat both young and old rebell,

1478And all goes worse then I haue power to tell.

1479Rich. Too well, too well thou tell'st a Tale so ill.

1480Where is the Earle of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?

1481What is become of Bushie? where is Greene?

1482That they haue let the dangerous Enemie

1483Measure our Confines with such peacefull steps?

1484If we preuaile, their heads shall pay for it.

1485I warrant they haue made peace with Bullingbrooke.

1486Scroope. Peace haue they made with him indeede (my

1487Lord.)

1488Rich. Oh Villains, Vipers, damn'd without redemption,

1489Dogges, easily woon to fawne on any man,

1490Snakes in my heart blood warm'd, that sting my heart,

1491Three Iudasses, each one thrice worse then Iudas,

1492Would they make peace? terrible Hell make warre

1493Vpon their spotted Soules for this Offence.

1494Scroope. Sweet Loue (I see) changing his propertie,

1495Turnes to the sowrest, and most deadly hate:

1496Againe vncurse their Soules; their peace is made

1497With Heads, and not with Hands: those whom you curse

1498Haue felt the worst of Deaths destroying hand,

1499And lye full low, grau'd in the hollow ground.

1500Aum. Is Bushie, Greene, and the Earle of Wiltshire

1501dead?

1502Scroope. Yea, all of them at Bristow lost their heads.

1503Aum. Where is the Duke my Father with his Power?

1504Rich. No matter where; of comfort no man speake:

1505Let's talke of Graues, of Wormes, and Epitaphs,

1506Make Dust our Paper, and with Raynie eyes

1507Write Sorrow on the Bosome of the Earth.

1508Let's chuse Executors, and talke of Wills:

1509And yet not so; for what can we bequeath,

1510Saue our deposed bodies to the ground?

1511Our Lands, our Liues, and all are Bullingbrookes,

1512And nothing can we call our owne, but Death,

1513And that small Modell of the barren Earth,

1514Which serues as Paste, and Couer to our Bones:

1515For Heauens sake let vs sit vpon the ground,

1516And tell sad stories of the death of Kings:

1517How some haue been depos'd, some slaine in warre,

1518Some haunted by the Ghosts they haue depos'd,

1519Some poyson'd by their Wiues, some sleeping kill'd,

1520All murther'd. For within the hollow Crowne

1521That rounds the mortall Temples of a King,

1522Keepes Death his Court, and there the Antique sits

1523Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pompe,

1524Allowing him a breath, a little Scene,

1525To Monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with lookes,

1526Infusing him with selfe and vaine conceit,

1527As if this Flesh, which walls about our Life,

1528Were Brasse impregnable: and humor'd thus,

1529Comes at the last, and with a little Pinne

1530Bores through his Castle Walls, and farwell King.

1531Couer your heads, and mock not flesh and blood

1532With solemne Reuerence: throw away Respect,

1533Tradition, Forme, and Ceremonious dutie,

1534For you haue but mistooke me all this while:

1535I liue with Bread like you, feele Want,

1536Taste Griefe, need Friends: subiected thus,

1537How can you say to me, I am a King?

1538Carl. My Lord, wise men ne're waile their present woes,

1539But presently preuent the wayes to waile:

1540To feare the Foe, since feare oppresseth strength,

1541Giues in your weakenesse, strength vnto your Foe;

1542Feare, and be slaine, no worse can come to fight,

1543And fight and die, is death destroying death,

1544Where fearing, dying, payes death seruile breath.

1545Aum. My Father hath a Power, enquire of him,

1546And learne to make a Body of a Limbe.

1547Rich. Thou chid'st me well: proud Bullingbrooke I come

1548To change Blowes with thee, for our day of Doome:

1549This ague fit of feare is ouer-blowne,

1550An easie taske it is to winne our owne.

1551Say Scroope, where lyes our Vnckle with his Power?

1552Speake sweetly man, although thy lookes be sowre.

1553Scroope. Men iudge by the complexion of the Skie

1554The state and inclination of the day;

1555So may you by my dull and heauie Eye:

1556My Tongue hath but a heauier Tale to say:

1557I play the Torturer, by small and small

1558To lengthen out the worst, that must be spoken.

1559Your Vnckle Yorke is ioyn'd with Bullingbrooke,

1560And all your Northerne Castles yeelded vp,

1561And all your Southerne Gentlemen in Armes

1562Vpon his Faction.

1563Rich. Thou hast said enough.

1564Beshrew thee Cousin, which didst lead me forth

1565Of that sweet way I was in, to despaire:

1566What say you now? What comfort haue we now?

1567By Heauen Ile hate him euerlastingly,

1568That bids me be of comfort any more.

1569Goe to Flint Castle, there Ile pine away,

1570A King, Woes slaue, shall Kingly Woe obey:

1571That Power I haue, discharge, and let 'em goe

1572To eare the Land, that hath some hope to grow,

1573For I haue none. Let no man speake againe

1574To alter this, for counsaile is but vaine.

1575Aum. My Liege, one word.

1576Rich. He does me double wrong,

1577That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.

1578Discharge my followers: let them hence away,

1579From Richards Night, to Bullingbrookes faire Day.