University of Virginia Library

Enter Dutchess and Aumarle.
Dutch.
At that sad passage Tears broke off your Story,
Where rude misgovern'd Hands from Windows threw
Rank weeds and rubbish on King Richard's Head.

Aum.
Then as I said, the haughty Bullingbrook
Mounted upon an hot and fiery Steed,
Which his aspiring Rider seem'd to know,
With slow but stately pace kept on his Course;
Whilst all Tongues cry'd, God save King Bullingbrook!
You wou'd have thought the very Windows spoke,
So many greedy looks of young and old,
Through Casements darted their desiring Eyes:
You wou'd have thought the very Walls themselves,
With all their painted Imag'ry, had cry'd,
Hail to the King, all Hail to Bullingbrook!
Whilst bending lower than his Coursers neck,
The Rabble he saluted on each side;
Thus praising and thus prais'd he past along.

Dutch.
Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the while?

Aum.
As in the Theatre the Eyes of Men,
After a well-grac't Actor leaves the Stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
With such contempt they turn'd their Eyes from Richard,
No joyful Tongue gave him his welcome home;
But Dust was thrown upon his sacred Head,
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His Face still combating with Smiles and Fears,
(The Badges of his Grief and Patience)
That had not Heav'n for some strange purpose steel'd
The Hearts of Men, they must of force relented,
And Cruelty it self have pity'd him.

Enter York.
York.

What, in Tears still? Well, Heav'ns will must be—
mark me Boy, I cannot blame thy grieving for Richard, because
I do it my self; neither can I blame thee for not loving Bullingbrook,
because I cannot do it my self: But to be true to him (or
rather to our Oath, being now his sworn Subjects) I conjure
thee. This I speak, because the King suspects thee, and made
me even now pledge for thy truth and fealty: Bear you well
therefore in this new Spring of Government, lest you be cropt
before your time—Well, what News from Oxford Boy? Hold
th'intended Triumphs there? 'Tis said our new King will grace
them with his Presence.

Aum.
They hold, my Lord, for certain—and as certain
This upstart King shall die if he comes there.

York.

Ha! come nearer, what Seal is that which hangs out
from thy Bosom? Ha! lookst thou pale? Let me see the writing.

Aum.
I do beseech your Grace to pardon me;
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I wou'd not have seen.

York.
Which for some reasons! Sir, I mean to see,
[Snatches it.
Just as I fear'd, Treason, foul Treason, Villain Traytor.

Dutch.
What's the matter my Lord, good York inform me.

York.
Away fond Woman, give me my Boots, saddle my Horse.

Dutch.
The matter, Son.

Aum.
Good Madam, be content.
It is no more than my poor Life must Answer.

Dutch.
Thy Life!
[Servant enters.
Hence Villain, strike him Aumarle.

York.
My Boots I say, I will away to th' King.

Dutch.
Why York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the Trespass of thine own?

York.
Peace Woman, or I will impeach thee too;
Wou'dst thou conceal this dark Conspiracy?
A dozen of 'em here have tane the Sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their Hands
To kill the King at Oxford.

Dutch.
He shall be none;
We'll keep him here, then what's that to him?

York.

Tho' I love not Bullingbrook, yet I hate Treason, and will
impeach the Villa

Dutch.
Our Son, our only Son, our Ages comfort;
Is he not thine own?

York.

Wife, I believe it, therefore I impeach him; were
he none of mine, let his own Father look to him; but since
he is my Villain, I'll see the Villain orderd: My Horse, I say.

Dutch.
Hadst thou groan'd for him, York, as I have done—

York.
And art e'en like to groan for him again. Away.

[Exit.
Dutch.
Haste thee Aumarle, mount thee upon his Horse;
Spur post, and get before him to the King,
And beg thy pardon e're he come t' accuse thee:
Born on the wings of Mother's love I'll fly,
And doubt not to prevent thy Father's speed;
On thy behalf i'll with the King prevail,
Or root into the ground whereon I kneel.

[Exeunt.