Bullingbrooke.
say.
Pierceof Exton,
Henrieof Lancaster, and thee;
Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Exton, thy fierce hand,
other Lords & attendants.
Salsbury, Spencer, Blunt, and
Kent:
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Left Column
Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Right Column
Helpe, helpe, helpe.
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="5" rend="notPresent">
<head rend="italic center">Scæna Quarta.</head>
<head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 4]</head>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Richard.</stage>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2566">I haue bin studying, how to compare</l>
<l n="2567">This Prison where I liue, vnto the World:</l>
<l n="2568">And for because the world is populous,</l>
<l n="2569">And heere is not a Creature, but my selfe,</l>
<l n="2570">I cannot do it: yet Ile hammer't out.</l>
<l n="2571">My Braine, Ile proue the Female to my Soule,</l>
<l n="2572">My Soule, the Father: and these two beget</l>
<l n="2573">A generation of still breeding Thoughts;</l>
<l n="2574">And these same Thoughts, people this Little World</l>
<l n="2575">In humors, like the people of this world,</l>
<l n="2576">For no thought is contented. The better sort,</l>
<l n="2577">As thoughts of things Diuine, are intermixt</l>
<l n="2578">With scruples, and do set the Faith it selfe</l>
<l n="2579">Against the Faith: as thus: Come litle ones: & then again,</l>
<l n="2580">It is as hard to come, as for a Camell</l>
<l n="2581">To thred the posterne of a Needles eye.</l>
<l n="2582">Thoughts tending to Ambition, they do plot</l>
<l n="2583">Vnlikely wonders; how these vaine weake nailes</l>
<l n="2584">May teare a passage through the Flinty ribbes</l>
<l n="2585">Of this hard world, my ragged prison walles:</l>
<l n="2586">And for they cannot, dye in their owne pride.</l>
<l n="2587">Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themselues,</l>
<l n="2588">That they are not the first of Fortunes slaues,</l>
<l n="2589">Nor shall not be the last. Like silly Beggars,</l>
<l n="2590">Who sitting in the Stockes, refuge their shame</l>
<l n="2591">That many haue, and others must sit there;</l>
<l n="2592">And in this Thought, they finde a kind of ease,</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="2593">Bearing their owne misfortune on the backe</l>
<l n="2594">Of such as haue before indur'd the like.</l>
<l n="2595">Thus play I in one Prison, many people,</l>
<l n="2596">And none contented. Sometimes am I King;</l>
<l n="2597">Then Treason makes me wish my selfe a Beggar,</l>
<l n="2598">And so I am. Then crushing penurie,</l>
<l n="2599">Perswades me, I was better when a King:</l>
<l n="2600">Then am I king'd againe: and by and by,</l>
<l n="2601">Thinke that I am vn‑king'd by<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>,</l>
<l n="2602">And straight am nothing. But what ere I am,</l>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Musick</stage>
<l n="2603">Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,</l>
<l n="2604">With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd</l>
<l n="2605">With being nothing. Musicke do I heare?</l>
<l n="2606">Ha, ha? keepe time: How sowre sweet Musicke is,</l>
<l n="2607">When Time is broke, and no Proportion kept?</l>
<l n="2608">So is it in the Musicke of mens liues:</l>
<l n="2609">And heere haue I the daintinesse of eare,</l>
<l n="2610">To heare time broke in a disorder'd string:</l>
<l n="2611">But for the Concord of my State and Time,</l>
<l n="2612">Had not an eare to heare my true Time broke.</l>
<l n="2613">I wasted Time, and now doth Time waste me:</l>
<l n="2614">For now hath Time made me his numbring clocke;</l>
<l n="2615">My Thoughts, are minutes; and with Sighes they iarre,</l>
<l n="2616">Their watches on vnto mine eyes, the outward Watch,</l>
<l n="2617">Whereto my finger, like a Dialls point,</l>
<l n="2618">Is pointing still, in cleansing them from teares.</l>
<l n="2619">Now sir, the sound that tels what houre it is,</l>
<l n="2620">Are clamorous groanes, that strike vpon my heart,</l>
<l n="2621">Which is the bell: so Sighes, and Teares, and Grones,</l>
<l n="2622">Shew Minutes, Houres, and Times: but my Time</l>
<l n="2623">Runs poasting on, in<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrookes</hi>proud ioy,</l>
<l n="2624">While I stand fooling heere, his iacke o'th'Clocke.</l>
<l n="2625">This Musicke mads me, let it sound no more,</l>
<l n="2626">For though it haue holpe madmen to their wits,</l>
<l n="2627">In me it seemes, it will make wise‑men mad:</l>
<l n="2628">Yet blessing on his heart that giues it me;</l>
<l n="2629">For 'tis a signe of loue, and loue to<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>,</l>
<l n="2630">Is a strange Brooch, in this all‑hating world.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Groome.</stage>
<sp who="#F-r2-gro">
<speaker rend="italic">Groo.</speaker>
<l n="2631">Haile Royall Prince.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2632">Thankes Noble Peere,</l>
<l n="2633">The cheapest of vs, is ten groates too deere.</l>
<l n="2634">What are thou? And how com'st thou hither?</l>
<l n="2635">Where no man euer comes, but that sad dogge</l>
<l n="2636">That brings me food, to make misfortune liue?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-gro">
<speaker rend="italic">Groo.</speaker>
<l n="2637">I was poore Groome of thy Stable (King)</l>
<l n="2638">When thou wer't King: who trauelling towards Yorke,</l>
<l n="2639">With much adoo, at length haue gotten leaue</l>
<l n="2640">To looke vpon my (sometimes Royall) masters face.</l>
<l n="2641">O how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld</l>
<l n="2642">In London streets, that Coronation day,</l>
<l n="2643">When<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>rode on Roane Barbary,</l>
<l n="2644">that horse, that thou so often hast bestrid,</l>
<l n="2645">That horse, that I so carefully haue drest.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2646">Rode he on Barbary? Tell me gentle Friend,</l>
<l n="2647">How went he vnder him?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-gro">
<speaker rend="italic">Groo.</speaker>
<l n="2648">So proudly, as if he had disdain'd the ground.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2649">So proud, that<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>was on his backe;</l>
<l n="2650">That Iade hath eate bread from my Royall hand.</l>
<l n="2651">This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.</l>
<l n="2652">Would he not stumble? Would he not fall downe</l>
<l n="2653">(Since Pride must haue a fall) and breake the necke</l>
<l n="2654">Of that proud man, that did vsurpe his backe?</l>
<l n="2655">Forgiuenesse horse: Why do I raile on thee,</l>
<l n="2656">Since thou created to be aw'd by man</l>
<l n="2657">Was't borne to beare? I was not made a horse,</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0369-0.jpg" n="45"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="2658">And yet I beare a burthen like an Asse,</l>
<l n="2659">Spur‑gall'd, and tyrd by iauncing<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Keeper with a Dish.</stage>
<sp who="#F-r2-kee">
<speaker rend="italic">Keep.</speaker>
<l n="2660">Fellow, giue place, heere is no longer stay.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2661">If thou loue me, 'tis time thou wer't away.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-gro">
<speaker rend="italic">Groo.</speaker>
<l n="2662">What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall
<lb/>say.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
<sp who="#F-r2-kee">
<speaker rend="italic">Keep.</speaker>
<l n="2663">My Lord, wilt please you to fall too?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2664">Taste of it first, as thou wer't wont to doo.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-kee">
<speaker rend="italic">Keep.</speaker>
<l n="2665">My Lord I dare not: Sir<hi rend="italic">Pierce</hi>of Exton,</l>
<l n="2666">Who lately came from th'King, commands the contrary.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Rich.</speaker>
<l n="2667">The diuell take<hi rend="italic">Henrie</hi>of Lancaster, and thee;</l>
<l n="2668">Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-kee">
<speaker rend="italic">Keep.</speaker>
<p n="2669">Helpe, helpe, helpe.</p>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Exton and Seruants.</stage>
<sp who="#F-r2-ric">
<speaker rend="italic">Ri.</speaker>
<l n="2670">How now? what meanes Death in this rude assalt?</l>
<l n="2671">Villaine, thine owne hand yeelds thy deaths instrument,</l>
<l n="2672">Go thou and fill another roome in hell.</l>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exton strikes him downe.</stage>
<l n="2673">That hand shall burne in neuer‑quenching fire,</l>
<l n="2674">That staggers thus my person.<hi rend="italic">Exton</hi>, thy fierce hand,</l>
<l n="2675">Hath with the Kings blood, stain'd the Kings own land.</l>
<l n="2676">Mount, mount my soule, thy seate is vp on high,</l>
<l n="2677">Whil'st my grosse flesh sinkes downward, heere to dye.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-r2-ext">
<speaker rend="italic">Exton.</speaker>
<l n="2678">As full of Valor, as of Royall blood,</l>
<l n="2679">Both haue I spilt: Oh would the deed were good.</l>
<l n="2680">For now the diuell, that told me I did well,</l>
<l n="2681">Sayes, that this deede is chronicled in hell.</l>
<l n="2682">This dead King to the liuing King Ile beare,</l>
<l n="2683">Take hence the rest, and giue them buriall heere.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
</div>