The Dramatic Works of Shakespeare

Are cast away, and sunk, on Goodwin sands. Lew. Ah, foul shrewd news!-Beshrew thy very heart!

I did not think to be so sad to night,
As this hath made me.-Who was he, that said,
King John did fly, an hour or two before
The stumbling night did part our weary powers?
Mess. Whoever spoke it, it is true, my lord.
Lew. Well; keep good quarter, and good
care to-night;

The day shall not be up so soon as I,
To try the fair adventure of to-morrow.

[Exeunt.

SCENE VII. The Orchard of SwinsteadAbbey.

Enter Prince HENRY, SALISBURY, and BIGOT.

P. Hen. It is too late; the life of all his blood

SCENE VI. An open Place in the Neigh-Is touch'd corruptibly; and his pure brain

bourhood of Swinstead-Abbey.

Enter the Bastard and HUBERT, meeting. Hub. Who's there? speak, ho! speak quickly

or I shoot.

Bast. A friend :-What art thou? Hub. Of the part of England. Bast. Whither dost thou go? [demand Hub. What's that to thee? Why may not I Of thine affairs, as well as thou of mine? Bast. Hubert, I think. Hub.

Thou hast a perfect thought: I will upon all hazards, well believe Thou art my friend, that know'st my tongue so Who art thou? [well: Bast. Who thou wilt: an if thou please, Thou may'st befriend me so much, as to think I come one way of the Plantagenets.

Hub. Unkind remembrance! thou, and eyeless night, [me, Have done me shame :-Brave soldier, pardon That any accent, breaking from thy tongue, Should'scape the true acquaintance of mine ear. Bast. Come, come; sans compliment,

what news abroad?

I left him almost speechless, and broke out
To acquaint you with this evil; that you might
The better arm you to the sudden time,
Than if you had at leisure known of this.

Bast. How did he take it? who did taste to
him?

Hub. A monk, I tell you; a resolved villain, Whose bowels suddenly burst out: the king Yet speaks, and, peradventure, may recover. Bast. Who didst thou leave to tend his majesty ? [all come back, Hub. Why, know you not? the lords are And brought prince Henry in their company; At whose request the king hath pardon'd them, And they are all about his majesty. [heaven, Bast. Withhold thine indignation, mighty And tempt us not to bear above our power!

• In your posts or stations.

(Which some suppose the soul's frail dwelling

house),

Doth by the idle comments that it makes,
Foretell the ending of mortality.
Enter PEMBROKE.

Pem. His Highness yet doth speak; and holds belief,

That being brought into the open air,
It would allay the burning quality
Of that fell poison which assaileth him.
P. Hen. Let him be brought into the
orchard here.-

Doth he still rage?

[Exit BIGOT. Pem. He is more patient Than when you left him; even now he sung. P. Hen. O vanity of sickness! fierce ex

tremes,

In their continuance, will not feel themselves.
Death, having prey'd upon the outward parts,
Leaves them insensible; and his siege is now
Against the mind, the which he pricks and
wounds

With many legions of strange fantasies;
Which, in their throng and press to that last
hold,
[should sing.
Confound themselves. 'Tis strange, that death
I am the cygnet to this pale faint swan,
Who chants a doleful hymn to his own death;
And, from the organ-pipe of frailty, sings
His soul and body to their lasting rest.

Sal. Be of good comfort, prince; for you To set a form upon that indigest [are born Which he hath left so shapeless and so rude. Re-enter BIGOT and Attendants, who bring in King JOHN in a Chair.

K. John. Ay, marry, now my soul hath elbow-room;

It would not out at windows, nor at doors,
There is so hot a summer in my bosom,
That all my bowels crumble up to dust:
I am a scribbled form, drawn with a pen
Upon a parchment; and against this fire.
Do I shrink up.

P. Hen. How fares your majesty?
K. John. Poison'd,-ill fare;-dead, for-
sook, cast off:

And none of you will bid the winter come,
To thrust his icy fingers in my maw;
Nor let my kingdom's rivers take their course
Through my burn'd bosom; nor entreat the

To make his bleak winds kiss my parched lips, | To push destruction, and perpetual shame, And comfort me with cold:-I do not ask you much,

I beg cold comfort; and you are so strait*, And so ingrateful, you deny me that.

P. Hen. O, that there were some virtue in That might relieve you? [my tears, K. John. The salt in them is hot. Within me is a hell; and there the poison Is, as a fiend, confin'd to tyrannize On unreprievable condemned blood. Enter the Bastard.

Bast. O, I am scalded with my violent motion,

And spleen of speed to see your Majesty. K. John. O cousin, thou art come to set mine eye:

The tackle of my heart is crack'd and burn'd; And all the shrouds, wherewith my life should Are turned to one thread, one little hair: [sail, My heart hath one poor string to stay it by, Which holds but till thy news be uttered; And then all this thou see'st, is but a clod, And modulet of confounded royalty.

Bast. The Dauphin is preparing hitherward; Where, heaven he knows, how we shall answer him:

For, in a night, the best part of my power,
As I upon advantage did remove,
Were in the washes, all unwarily,
Devoured by the unexpected flood.

an ear.

[The King dies. Sul. You breathe these dead news in as dead [thus. My liege! my lord!-But now a king,-now P. Hen. Even so must I run on, and even so stop. [stay, What surety of the world, what hope, what When this was now a king, and now is clay! Bast. Art thou gone so? 1 do but stay beTo do the office for thee of revenge! [hind, And then my soul shall wait on thee to heaven, As it on earth hath been thy servant still. Now, now, you stars, that move in your right spheres, [mended faiths; Where be your powers? Show now your And instantly return with me again,

Out of the weak door of our fainting land: Straight let us seek, or straight we shall be The Dauphin rages at our very heels. [sought; Sal. It seems, you know not then so much

as we:

The cardinal Pandulph is within at rest, Who half an hour since came from the Dauphin; And brings from him such offers of our peace As we with honour and respect may take, With purpose presently to leave this war.

Bust. He will the rather do it, when he sees Ourselves well sinewed to our defence.

Sal. Nay, it is in a manner done already; For many carriages he hath despatch'd To the sea-side, and put his cause and quarrel To the disposing of the cardinal: With whom yourself, myself, and other lords, If you think meet, this afternoon will post, To cónsummate this business happily. [prince,

Bast. Let it be so:- And you, my noble With other princes that may best be spared, Shall wait upon your father's funeral. [terr'd; P. Hen. At Worcester must his body be inFor so he will'd it.

Bast.

Thither shall it then. And happily may your sweet self put on The lineal state and glory of the land! To whom, with all submission, on my knee, I do bequeath my faithful services And true subjection everlastingly.

Sal. And the like tender of our love we To rest without a spot for evermore. [make, P. Hen. I have a kind soul, that would give you thanks,

And knows not how to do it, but with tears.
Bast. O, let us pay the time but needful woe,
Since it hath been beforehand with our griefs.
This England never did, (nor never shall,)
Lie at the proud foot of a conqueror,
But when it first did help to wound itself.
Now these her princes are come home again,
Come the three corners of the world in arms,
And we shall shock them: Nought sha!! make
If England to itself do rest but true. [us rue,
[Exeunt.

The tragedy of KING JOHN, though not written with the utmost power of Shakspeare, is varied with a very pleasing interchange of incidents and characters. The lady's grief is very affecting; and the character of the Bastard contains that mixture of greatness and levity which this author delighted to exhibit.-JOHNSON.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF

KING RICHARD II.

Persons represented.

King RICHARD the SECOND.
EDMUND of Langley, D. of York; uncles to
JOHN of Gaunt, D. of Lancaster; the King.
HENRY, surnamed Bolingbroke, Duke of
Hereford, son to John of Gaunt; after-
wards King Henry IV.

Duke of AUMERLE, Son to the Duke of York.
MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk.
Duke of Surrey.

Earl of Salisbury. Earl BERKLEY.
BUSHY,

BAGOT, creatures to King Richard.
GREEN,

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, two

Bishop of Carlisle. Abbot of Westminster.
Lord Marshal; and another Lord.
Sir PIERCE of Exton. Sir STEPHEN SCROOP
·Captain of a band of Welshmen.

Queen to King Richard.
Duchess of Gloster.
Duchess of York.

Lady attending on the Queen.

Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants.

Scene,-dispersedly in England and Wales.

ACT I.

SCENE I. London. A Room in the Palace. | Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,

Enter King RICHARD; attended: JOHN of
GAUNT, and other Nobles, with him.

K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd
Lancaster,

[bray? K. Rich. Tell me moreover, hast thou sounded him,

Add an immortal title to your crown!

K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but

flatters us,

As well appeareth by the cause you come :
Namely, to appeal + each other of high treason.
Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mow-
bray?

Hast thou, according to thy oath and band*,
Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son;
Here to make good the boisterons late appeal,
Which then our leisure would not let us hear, Boling. First, (heaven be the record of my
Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mow-In the devotion of a subject's love, [speech!)
Gaunt. I have, my liege.
Tendering the precious safety of my prince,
And free from other misbegotten hate,
Come I appellant to this princely presence.-
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak,
My body shall make good upon this earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor, and a miscreant;
Too good to be so, and too had to live;
Since, the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
And wish, (so please my sovereign,) ere I move,
What my tongue speaks, my right-drawn sword

If he appeal the duke on ancient malice;
Or worthily as a good subject should,
On some known ground of treachery in him?
Gaunt. As near as I could sift him on that
argument,-

On some apparent danger seen in him,
Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice.
K. Rich. Then call them to our presence;
face to face,

And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
The accuser, and the accused, freely speak:-
[Exeunt some Attendants.
High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
Re-enter Attendants, with BOLINGBROKE
and NORFOLK.

Boling. May many years of happy days befal
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
Nor. Each day still better other's happiness;

• Bond.

As to be hush'd, and nought at all to say: [me |
First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs
From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
Which else would post, until it had return'd
These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
Setting aside his high blood's royalty,
And let him be no kinsman to my liege,
I do defy him, and I spit at him;
Call him-a slanderous coward, and a villain:
Which to maintain, I would allow him odds;
And meet him, were I tied to run a-foot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Or any other ground inhabitable*
Where ever Englishman durst set his foot,
Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.
Boling. Pale trembling coward, there
throw my gage,

Disclaiming here the kindred of a king;
And lay aside my high blood's royalty, [cept:
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to ex-
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength,
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop;
By that, and all the rites of knighthood else,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise.
Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I swear,
Which gently lay'd ny knighthcod on my
I'll answer thee in any fair degree, [shoulder,
Or chivalrous design of knightly_trial:
And, when I mount, alive inay I not light,
If I be traitor, or unjustly fight!

K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mow-
bray's charge?

And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
Till I have told this slander of his blood,
How God, and good men, hate so foul a liar.
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes
and ears:

Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
(As he is but my father's brother's son,)
Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,
Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize
The unstooping firmness of my upright soul;
He is our subject, Mowbray, so art thou;
Free speech, and fearless, I to thee allow.
Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy
heart,
[liest !
Through the false passage of thy throat, thou
Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais,
Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers:
The other part reserved I by consent;
For that my sovereign liege was in my debt,
Upon remainder of a dear account,
Since last I went to France to fetch his queen:
Now swallow down that lie.--For Gloster's
death,-

I slew him not; but to my own disgrace, Neglected my sworn duty in that case.For you, my noble lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay in ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul: But, ere I last received the sacrament, I did confess it; and exactly begged Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it. This is my fault: As for the rest appeal'd ¶, It must be great, that can inherit + us It issues from the rancour of a villain, So much as of a though.t of ill in him. A recreant and most degenerate traitor: Boling. Look, what I speak my life shall Which in myself I boldly will defend; prove it true;[nobles, And interchangeably hurl down my gage That Mowbray hath received eight thousand Upon this overweening** traitor's foot, In name of lendings for your highness sol-To prove myself a loyal gentleman Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom: The which he hath detain'd for lewd employ-In haste whereof, most heartily I pray Like a false traitor, and injurious villain. Besides I say, and will in battle prove,Or here, or elsewhere, to the furthest verge That ever was survey'd by English eye,That all the treasons, for these eighteen years Complotted and contrived in this land, [spring. Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and Further I say, and further will maintain Upon his bad life, to make all this good,That he did plot the duke of Gloster's death; Suggest his soon believing adversaries; And, consequently, like a traitor coward, Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams

diers;

of blood:

[ments,

Your highness to assign our trial day. [by me;

K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled
Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
This we prescribe though no physician;
Deep malice makes too deep incision:
Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed;
Our doctors say, this is no time to bleed.-
Good uncle, let this end where it begun; [son.
We'll calm the duke of Norfolk, you your
Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become

my age:
[gage.
Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's
K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his.
Gaunt.
When, Harry? when?
Obedience bids, I should not bid again.
K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid;
there is no boot tt.
[foot:
Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign,at thy
My life thou shalt command,but not my shame:
The one my duty owes; but my fair name,
(Despite of death, that lives upon my grave,)
To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
I am disgraced, impeach'd, and baffled here;

Wicked. ** Arrogant.

Prompt. Reproach to
No advantage in delay.

And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,
The purest treasure mortal times afford,
Is-spotless reputation; that away,
Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay.
A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest
Is-a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one;
Take honour from me, and my life is done:
Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
In that I live, and for that will I die.

K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do you begin. [foul sin! Boling. O, God defend my soul from such Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Before this out-dar'd dastard! Ere my tongue Shall wound mine honour with such feeble wrong,

Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
The slavish motive of recanting fear;
And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
Where shame doth harbour even in Mowbray's

face. [Exit GAUNT. [command:
K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to
Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
At Coventry, upon St. Lambert's day;
There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
The swelling difference of your settled hate;
Since we cannot atone* you, we shall see
Justice design + the victor's chivalry.-
Marshal, command our officers at arms
Be ready to direct these home-alarms.[Exeunt.
SCENE II. The same. A Room in the

Duke of Lancaster's Palace.

Enter GAUNT, and Duchess of Gloster. Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood

Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,
To stir against the butchers of his life,
But since correction lieth in those hands,
Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrrel to the will of heaven;
Who when he sees the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper
Hath love iu thy old blood no living fire? [spur
Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches springing from one
[course,
Some of those seven are dried by nature's
Some of those branches by the destinies cut:
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Glos-
One phiai full of Edward's sacred blood, [ter,-
One flourishing branch of his most royal root-

root:

Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt ;
Is hacked down, and his summer leaves all fad-
By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe. [ed,
Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed,
that womb,

That metal, that self-mould, that fashioned
thee,
[breath'st,
Made him a man; and though thou livest and
Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair:
In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:
That which in mean men we entitle-patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
The best way is-to 'venge my Gloster's death.
Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for hea-

ven's substitute,

His deputy anointed in his sight,
Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully,
Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minister.
Duch. Where, then, alas! may I complain
myself?
[and defence.
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion
Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old
Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold [Gaunt,
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's
spear,

That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
Or, if misfortune miss the first career,

Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's
wife,

With her companion grief must end her life.
Gaunt. Sister,farewell; I must to Coventry:
As much good stay with thee, as go with me!
Duch. Yetone word more ;-Griefboundeth

where it falls,

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:
I take my leave before I have begun :
For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York.
Lo, this is all:-Nay, yet depart not so;
Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
I shall remember more. Bid him-O, what?
With all good speed at Plashy ** visit me.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see,
But empty lodgings and unfurnish❜d walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
And what cheer there for welcome, but my
groans?
[there,
Therefore commend me; let him not come
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where:
Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die;
The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.
[Exeunt.

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