THE action of this drama comprises little more than the two last years of King Richard's reign. It com with Bolinbroke's accusation of treason against Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, in 1398, and terminates w murder of Richard at Pomfret Castle, about the year 1400. Shakspeare wrote the play in 1597, deriving terials chiefly from Hollinshed's Chronicle, many passages of which, he has almost literally embodied own. The speech of the Bishop of Carlisle, in defence of King Richard's unalienable right, and immun human jurisdiction, is particularly copied from that old writer. The historical points of the tra consequently accurate; for notwithstanding the Lancasterian prejudices of those who have reco reign, Richard was a weak prince, and unfit for government. He had capacity enough, but no solid ju nor good education: he was violent in temper, profuse in expence, fond of idle show, devoted to fay and addicted to low society. Yet his punishment ontbalanced his offence. Dr. Johnson has remarked play, that it cannot be said " much to affect the passions, or enlarge the understanding ;" but it is im to contemplate the abject degradation of the unfortunate monarch, as drawn by the poet, without que the truth and judgment of this critical rescript. In dignity of thought and fertility of expression, tainly superior to many of Shakspeare's productions, however it may yield to them in attractive in highly-wrought catastrophe. Yet where can we find a combination of circumstances more truly pathe those with which Shakspeare has surrounded the short career of Richard, from his landing in Wal murder at Pomfret. If the bitterness of his sorrow when deserted by his friends, and bearded by his if the lowliness and patience of his carriage, whilst exposed to the insults of the rabble, and greeted mockery of homage by his aspiring rival---if the majesty of his sentiments, soaring above couscious ness or constitutional imbecility--and if his heroic resistance when despatched by his savage ass are not calculated to "affect the passions, or enlarge the understanding," there is no dramatic portra is capable of doing so. Gaunt. I have, my liege. K. Rich. Tell me moreover, hast thou sounded If he appeal the Duke on ancient malice; On some apparent danger seen in him, And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear Re-enter Attendants, with BOLINGBROKE Boling. May many years of happy days be My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege! K. Rich. We thank you both: yet one but As well appeareth by the cause you come ; Namely, to appeal each other of high trea Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray ? Boling. First, (heaven be the record of my In the devotion of a subject's love, Nor. Let not my cold words here accuse my zeal; 'Tis not the trial of a woman's war (The bitter clamour of two eager tongues) Can arbitrate this cause betwixt us twain: The blood is hot, that must be cool'd for this, Yet can I not of such tame patience boast, As to be hush'd, and naught at all to say: First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me From giving reins and spurs to my free speech; I do defy him, and I spit at him; Call him-a slanderous coward, and a villain; Disclaiming here the kindred of a king; • Charge. I'll answer thee in any fair degree, my K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mow- It must be great, that can inherit us 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. Further I say,-and further will maintain Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars ! Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? Nor. Oh! let my sovereign turn away his face, And bid his ears a little while be deaf, ears: Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Through the false passage of thy throat, thot liest ! The parts of that receipt I had for Calais, For that my sovereign liege was in my debt, Since last I went to France to fetch his queen : death,- I slew him not; but to my own disgrace, Neglected my sworn duty in that case,For you, my noble lord of Lancaster, The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay in ambush for your life, A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul: But, ere I last receiv'd the sacrament, ex-I did confess it; and exactly begg'd Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it. + Wicked. ↑ Prompt. • Possess. This is my fault: As for the rest appeal'd,* SCENE 11.-The same.-A Room in the Duke of LANCASTER's Palace. Enter GAUNT, and Duchess of Gloster. Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims, Even in the best blood chainber'd in his bo-To stir against the butchers of his life. som: In haste whereof, most heartily I pray K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by me; Let's purge this choler without letting blood: Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's gage. K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid; there is no boot. Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot; My life thou shalt command, but not my shame; The one my duty owes: but my fair name, (Despite of death, that lives upon my grave,) To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here; Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear; But since correction lieth in those hands, Hath love in thy old blood no living fire? Yet art thou slain in him: Thou dost consent The which no balm can cure, but his heart-Who was the model of thy father's life. blood Which breath'd this poison. K. Rich. Rage must be withstood: Give me his gage: Lions make leopards tame. Nor. Yea, but not change their spots: take but my shame, And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, Mine honour is my life; both grow in one ; K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do you begin. Boling. O God, defend my soul from such foul sin! Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair: death. Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's substitute, His deputy anointed in his sight, fully, Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain, myself? Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and defence. Duck. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast! K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to command: Which since we cannot do to make you friends, Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, • Charged against me. [Exeunt. Commend me to my brother, Edmund York. And what cheer there for welcome, but my groans ? Therefore commend me; let him not come there, To seek out sorrow that dwells every where : Desolate, desolate, will I hence, and die; The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-Gosford Green, near Coventry. Låsts set cut, and a Throne. HERALDS, &c. attending. Enter the Lord MARSHAL, and AUMERLE. Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd ? Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, Stays but the summons of the appellant's trum pet. Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and stay, For nothing but his majesty's approach. Flourish of Trumpets.-Enter King RICHARD, who takes his seat on his throne; GAUNT, and several Noblemen, who take their places. A Trumpet is sounded, and answered by another Trumpet within. Then enter NORFOLK in armour preceded by a Herald. K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder pion Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Am 1; who ready here do stand in arms, In lists, on Thomas Mowbray duke of Norfolk, And bow my knee before his majesty : And craves to kiss your band, and take his leave, our arms. K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in Boling. O let no noble eye profane a tear Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.-- [TO GAUNT. of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle :Not, sick, although I have to do with death; But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.-Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet The dainties last, to make the end most sweet: O thou, the earthly author of my blood,cham- Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head,Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, And furbish new the name of John of Gauut, Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son. The canse of his arrival here in arms: And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms : Against what man thou com'st, and what thy quarrel; Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath; Who bither come engaged by my oath, To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Both who he is, and why he cometh hither, And formally, according to our law, Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st thou hither, Before King Richard in his royal lists? Against whom comest thou; and what's thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! • Her house in Essex. Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee prosperous ! Be swift like lightning in the execution ; Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George to thrive ! [He takes his seat. Nor. [Rising.] However heaven, or fortune, cast my lot, There lives or dies, true to king Richard's throne, A loyal, just, and upright gentleman: Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast. K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy Virtue with valour couched in thine eye,Order the trial, marshal, and begin. [The KING and the lords return to their seats. Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! Boling. [Rising.] Strong as a tower in hope. I cry-Amen. Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.] to 1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, 2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke On pain to be found false and recreant, And both return back to their chairs again :- While we return these dukes what we decree.- With that dear blood which it hath fostered [And for we think the eagle-winged pride To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep ;] With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, Therefore, we banish you our territories :-- Boling. Your will be done: This must my That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on And those his golden beams, to you here lent, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce : Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compas- After our sentence plaining comes too late. To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Nor. And I, to keep all this. Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy ;- Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.— › |