KING Richard the Second.

Duke of York,

John of Gaunt, Duke of Lancaster,

}

Uncles to the

King.

Bolingbroke, Son to John of Gaunt, afterwards King

Henry the Fourth.

Aumerle, Son to the Duke of York.

Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk.

Earl of Salisbury.

Lord Berkley.

Bushy,

Bagot,}

Green,

Servants to King Richard.

Earl of Northumberland.

Percy, Son to Northumberland.
Rofs.

Willoughby.

Bishop of Carlifle.

Sir Stephen Scroop.
Fitzwater.

Surry.

Abbot of Westminster.
Sir Pierce of Exton.

Queen to King Richard:

Dutchefs of Gloucester.
Dutchess of York.

Ladies, attending on the Queen.

Heralds, two Gardiners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants.

SCENE, difperfedly, in feveral Parts of England.

Of this the Editions, earlier I have a collation by Mr. Theothan the first Folio, are, bald

I. 4to, by Valentine Simmes, for Andrew Wife, 1598, of which

II. 4to, for Mathew Law, 1615, from which the firft Folio was printed.

The LIFE and DEATH of

KING RICHARD II.

A C T I. SCENE 1.

The COURT.

Enter King Richard, John of Gaunt, with other Nobles and Attendants.

Ο

King RICHAR D.

LD John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster, Haft thou, according to thy oath and bond, Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold fon, Here to make good the boift'rous late Appeal, Which then our leifure would not let us hear, Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray? Gaunt. I have, my liege.

K. Rich. Tell me moreover, haft thou founded him,

The Life and Death of King Richard II.] But this Hiftory comprizes little more than the Two laft Years of this Prince. The Action of the Drama begins with Bolingbroke's appeal ing the Duke of Norfolk, on an

Accufation of high Treafon, which fell out in the Year 1398; and it clofes with the Murder of King Richard at Pomfret-Caftle towards the End of the Year 1400, or the Beginning of the enfuing Year. THEOBALD.

If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice,
Or worthily, as a good Subject should,
On fome known ground of treachery in him?
Gaunt. As near as I could fift him on that argu-

ment,

On fome apparent Danger feen in him

Aim'd at your Highnefs; no invet'rate malice.

K. Rich. Then call them to our prefence; face to face,

And frowning brow to brow. Our felves will hear
Th' accufer, and th' accufed freely speak.-
High-stomach'd are they Both, and full of ire;
In rage, deaf as the fea; hafty as fire.

Enter Bolingbroke and Mowbray.

Boling. May many years of happy days befal
My gracious Sovereign, my moft loving Liege!
Mowb. Each day still better other's happiness;
Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
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, t'appeal each other of high Treason.
Coufin of Hereford, what doft thou object
Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
Boling. Firft (Heaven be the record to my speech!)
In the devotion of a Subject's love,

Tend'ring the precious fafety of my Prince,
And free from other mif- begotten hate,
Come I Appellant to this princely prefence.
-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 foul answer it in heav'n.
Thou art a traitor and a mifcreant;

Too

Too good to be fo, and too bad 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 Traytor's Name ftuff I thy throat;
And wish, so please my Sov'reign, ere I move,
What my Tongue fpeaks, my Right-drawn Sword

may prove.

Mowb. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal; 'Tis not the tryal of a woman's war,

The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,

Can arbitrate this caufe betwixt us twain;

The blood is hot, that must be cool'd for this.
Yet can I not of fuch tame patience boast,
As to be hufht, and nought at all to fay.

First, the fair Rev'rence of your Highness curbs me,
From giving reins and fpurs to my free speech;
Which elfe would post, until it had return'd
Thefe terms of Treafon doubled down his throat.
Setting afide his high blood's Royalty,
And let him be no kinfman to my Leige,
I do defie him, and I spit at him;

Call him a fland'rous coward, and a villain;
Which to maintain, I would allow him odds,
And meet him, were I ty'd to run a-foot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Or any other ground inhabitable,

*

Where never Englishman durft fet his foot.
Mean time, let this defend my Loyalty;
By all my hopes, most falsly doth he lie.

Boling. Pale trembling Coward, there I throw my
Gage,

Disclaiming here the kindred of a King,
And lay afide my high blood's Royalty,

Which fear, not rev rence, makes thee to except.
If guilty Dread hath left thee so much strength,

2 Right-drawn.] Drawn in right or just Caufe.

*Inhabitable.] That is, not habitable, uninhabitable.

As to take up mine Honour's pawn, then stoop;
By that, and all the rights of Knighthood elfe,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have spoken, or thou canst devise.
Mowb. I take it up, and by that Sword I fwear,
Which gently laid my Knighthood on my shoulder,
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

Or chivalrous defign of knightly tryal;
And when I mount, alive may I not light,
If I be traitor, or unjustly fight!

K. Rich. What doth our Coufin fay to Mowbray's charge?

It must be great, that can inherit us

So much as of a thought of Ill in him.

Boling. Look, what I faid, my life shall prove it

true;

That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thoufand nobles,
In name of lendings for your Highness' foldiers,
The which he hath detain'd for lewd imployments;
Like a falfe traitor and injurious villain.
Befides, I fay, and will in battle prove,
Or here, or elsewhere, to the furthest verge,
That ever was furvey'd by English eye,
That all the treafons for thefe eighteen years,
Complotted and contrived in this Land,

Fetch from falfe Mowbray their firft head and fpring.
Further, I fay, and further will maintain

Upon his bad Life to make all This good,

That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death;
Suggeft his foon-believing adverfaries;

And confequently, like a traitor-coward,

Sluic'd out his inn'cent foul through streams of blood;
Which blood, like facrificing Abel's, cries
Even from the tonguelefs caverns of the earth,
To me, for juftice, and rough chastisement.
And by the glorious Worth of my Defcent,
This arm fhall do it, or this life be spent.

K. Rich. How high a pitch his refolution foars!