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: naught shall make us rue,
If England to itself do rest but true.

[Exeunt.

THE LIFE AND DEATH OF

KING RICHARD II.

FOR the incidents in the life of Richard II., the "most admirable of all Shakspeare's purely Historical Plays," the Poet was chiefly indebted to Holinshed. It is a vivid and faithful picture of the reign of that unfortunate monarch, whose character is drawn with a fidelity and beauty of execution which renders it invaluable as a mere historical portrait. The other characters are also faithful embodiments, while the real incidents of Richard's eventful life are portrayed with such perfect truth, that the whole Play forms a glowing picture of the most romantic and picturesque period of English History. The Play is the introductory one to the series of dramatic histories of the wars of York and Lancaster, while together they form a faithful narrative of the whole prolonged civil contest.

The history of Richard II., as comprised in this Play, embraces only the last two years of his life, commencing in the year 1398, and ending with the murder of Richard at Pomfret Castle toward the end of the year 1400.

PERSONS REPRESENTED.

KING RICHARD THE SECOND.

EDMUND OF LANGLEY, Duke of York, Uncles to the King.

JOHN OF GAUNT, Duke

HENRY BOLINGBROKE, Duke of Hereford, son to John of Gaunt; afterwards

King Henry IV.

DUKE OF AUMERLE, son to the Duke of York.

THOMAS MOWBRAY, Duke of Norfolk.

DUKE OF SURREY.

EARL OF SALISBURY.

EARL BERKLEY.

LORD ROSS.

LORD WILLoughby.
LORD FITZWATER.

BISHOP OF Carlisle.

ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER.
The Lord Marshal.

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.

Lords, Heralds, Officers, Soldiers, Gardeners, Keeper, Messenger, Groom, and other Attendants.

SCENE,-Dispersedly in ENGLAND and WALES.

ACT I.

SCENE I.-London. A Room in the Palace.

Enter KING RICHARD, attended; JOHN OF GAUNT, and other
Nobles.

K. Rich. Old John of Gaunt, time-honor'd Lancaster,
Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son,
Here to make good the boisterous late appeal,
Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
Gaunt. I have, my liege.

K. Rich. Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him,
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

Th' accuser, and th' 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. Many years of happy days befall

-My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!

Nor. 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, to appeal each other of high treason.

Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object

Against the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ?
Boling. First, (heaven be the record to my speech!)
In the devotion of a subject's love,

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 bad to live,—
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 may prove. Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal:

'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,

The bitter clamor of two eager tongues,

Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain;

The blood is hot that must be cool'd for this:
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.
Meantime, let this defend my loyalty,-
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.

Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, Disclaiming here the kindred of the king;

And lay aside my high blood's royalty,

Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except:
If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
As to take up mine honor'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 laid my knighthood on my shoulder, I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

Or chivalrous design of knightly trial:

And when I mount, alive may I not light,

If I be traitor, or unjustly fight!

K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay 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 speak, my life shall prove it true;—
That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles
In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,
The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,
Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
Besides, I say, and will in battle prove,—
Or here, or elsewhere, to the farthest verge
That ever was survey'd by English eye,-
That all the treasons, for these eighteen years
Complotted and contrived in this land,

Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
Farther, I say,-and farther will maintain
Upon his bad life to make all this good,-
That he did plot the duke of Gloster's death;
Whose blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,
Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
To me for justice and rough chastisement;
And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.

K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars!—
Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
Nor. O, let my sovereign turn away his face,

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 neighbor 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,
Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest !
I interchangeably hurl down my gage

Upon this overweening traitor's foot,
To prove myself a loyal gentleman