SCENE, difperfedly, in feveral parts of England.

Meffenger, Groom, and other

Attendants.

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

K. Rich.

LD John of Gaunt, time-honour'd

Lancaster, Crating time both und Haft thou, according to tlíy 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, If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice,

Or worthily, as a good fubject fhould,

On fome known ground of treachery in him?

Gaunt. As near as I could fift him on that argument, 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, ourfelves will hear Th' accufer and th' accufed freely speak : High-ftomach'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!
Mob. Each day ftill 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 caufe you come ;
Namely, t'appeal each other of high treafon.

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 fubject's love,

Tend'ring the precious fafety of my prince,
And free from other mifbegotten hate,
Come I appellant to this princely prefence.
Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee;
And mark my greeting well; for what I fpeak,
My body fhall make good upon this earth,
Or
my divine foul anfwer it in heav'n.
Thou art a traitor and a mifcreant †.

* i. e. call, demand, challenge, from appello. Mr Pope. a mifcreant;

+

Too good to be fo, and too bad to live;

Since the more fair and crystal is the sky

The uglier feem the clouds that in it fly.

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

my

zeal;

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 hush'd, and nought at all to say.
First, the fair rev'rence of your Highness curbs me,
From giving reins and fpurs to my free fpeech;
Which elfe would poft, 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 Liege,
I do defy 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 unhabitable,
Where never Englishman durft fet his foot.
Mean time, let this defend my loyalty;
By all my hopes, most falfely doth he lye.

Boling. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my Difclaiming here the kindred of a King,

And lay afide my high blood's royalty;

[gage,

(Which fear, not rev'rence, makes thee to except):
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength,
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then floop.
By that, and all the rights of knighthood elfe,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have fpoken, or thou canst devise.

Mowb. I take it up, and by that fword I swear,
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

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

Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name ftuff I thy throat;
And wish, fo please my Sov'reign, ere I move,

What my tongue fpeaks, my right-drawn fword may prove.
Mowb. Let not, &c.