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His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest ;
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
Nay, do not say-stand up;
Boling. Good aunt, stand up.
I do not sue to stand, Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
Boling. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
Duch. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
With all my heart
A god on earth thou art.
the abbot, With all the rest of that consorted crew, Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. Good uncle, help to order several powers * To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are : They shall not live within this world, I swear, But I will bave them, if I once know where. Uncle, farewell,—and cousin too, adieu : Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true. Duch. Come, my old son ;- pray God make thee new.
Enter Exton, and a Servant.
Erton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words
he spake? Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear? Was it not so? Serv.
Those were his very words. Exton. Hade I no friend? quoth' he: he spake it
Sero. He did.
(Exeunt. • Forces.
Pomfret. The dungeon of the castle.
Enter King Richard. K. Rich. I have been studying how I may com.
pare This prison, where I live, unto the world: And, for because the world is populous, And here is not a creature but myself, I canvot do it ;-Yet I'll hammer it out. My brain I'll prove the female to my soul; My soul, the father: and these two beget A generation of still-breeding thoughts, And these same thoughts people this little world* ; In humours, like the people of this world, For no thought is contented. The better sort, As thoughts of things divine,—are intermix'd With scruples, and do set the word itself Against the wordt : As thus -Come little ones; and then again, It is as hard to come, as for a camel To thread the postern I of a needle's eye. Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot Uulikely wonders : how these vain weak pails May tear a passage through the flinty ribs Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls; And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. Thoughts tending to content, flatter themselves,That they are not the first of fortune's slaves, Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars, Who, sitting in the stocks, refuge their shame,
* His own body.
+ Holy scripture.
That many have, and others must sit there:
man on a bell,
In me, it seems it will make wise men mad.
Groom. Hail, royal prince!
Thanks, noble peer;
Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king, When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York, With much ado, at length have gotten leave To look upon my sometimest master's face. , 0, how it yero'd my heart, when I beheld, In London streets, that coronation day, When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary! That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid; That horse, that I so carefully bave dress'd ! K. Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle
friend, How went he under him?
Groor So proudly, as if he disdain'd the ground. K. Rich. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his
back! That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand; This hand hath made him proud with clapping himn. Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down (Since pride must have a fall), and break the neck Of that proud mau that did usurp his back? Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee, Since thou, created to be aw'd by man, Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse ;
• An ornamented buckle, and also a jewel in ge: neral.