Gard. Go, bind thou up yon' dangling apri cocks, Which, like unruly children, make their sire Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight; Give some supportance to the bending twigs.Go thou, and like an executioner, Cut of the heads of too fast-growing sprays, 1 Serv, Why should we, in the compass of a pale, Keep law, and form, and due proportion, Showing, as in a model, our firm estate? When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up, Her fruit-trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd, Her knots disorder'd, and her wholesome herbs Swarming with caterpillars? Gard. Hold thy peace: He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring, That seem'd in cating him, to hold him up, Gard. They are; aud Bolingbroke Hath seiz'd the wasteful King.-Oh! What pity is it, That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land, As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit-trees; Gard. Depress'd he is already; and depos'd, 'Tis doubt, he will be: Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's, That tell black tidings. Queen. O, I am press'd to death, Through want of speaking!-Thou, old Adam's likeness, [Coming from her concealment. Set to dress this garden, how dares Thy harsh-rude tongue sound this unpleasing news? What Eve, what serpent hath suggested thee Why dost thou say, King Richard is depos'd? Gard. Pardon me, Madam: little joy have I, To breathe this news; yet what I say, is true. King Richard, he is in the mighty hold Of Bolingbroke; their fortunes both are weigh'd: In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, And some few vanities that make him light; But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, Doth not thy embassage belong to me, [Exeunt Queen and Ladies. Gard. Poor Queen! so that thy state might be no worse, I would my skill were subject to thy curse.Here did she drop a tear; here, in this place, I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace: Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping Queen. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I, London. Westminster Hall. The Lords spiritual on the right side of the throne; the Lords temporal on the left; the Commons below. Enter BOLINGBROKE. AUMERLE, SURREY, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, another Lord, Bishop of Carlisle, Abbot of Westminster, and Attendants, Officers behind, with BAGOT. Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind; What thou dost know of noble Gloster's death; Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd The bloody office of his timeless end. Bagot. Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle. Boling. Cousin, stand forth, and look that man. upon Bagot. My Lord Aumerle, I know, your daring tongue Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd In that dead time when Gloster's death was 1 plotted. I heard you say.-Is not my arm of length, Than Bolingbroke's return to England; Aum. Princes, and noble Lords, What answer shall make to this base man? up. Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best In all this presence, that hath mov'd me so. Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathies, There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine : By that fairsun that shows me where thou stand'st, I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak'st it, That thou wert cause of noble Gloster's death. If thou deny'st it, twenty times thou liest; And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart, Where it was forged, with my rapier's point. Aum. Thou dar'st not, coward, live to see that day. Fitz. Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour. Aum. Fitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this. Percy. Aumerle, thou licst; his honour is as true In this appeal, as thou art all unjust: And, that thou art so, there I throw my gage, |