<SPEECH 1><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<YORK>	<24%>
	Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;
	For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<YORK>	<24%>
	No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,
	As praises of his state: then there are fond
	Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound
	The open ear of youth doth always listen:
	Report of fashions in proud Italy,
	Whose manners still our tardy apish nation
	Limps after in base imitation.
	Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity,—
	So it be new there's no respect how vile,—
	That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears?
	Then all too late comes counsel to be heard,
	Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
	Direct not him whose way himself will choose:
	'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<YORK>	<26%>
	The king is come: deal mildly with his youth;
	For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the more.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<YORK>	<28%>
	I do beseech your majesty, impute his words
	To wayward sickliness and age in him:
	He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
	As Harry, Duke of Hereford, were he here.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<YORK>	<29%>
	Be York the next that must be bankrupt so!
	Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<YORK>	<29%>
	How long shall I be patient? Ah! how long
	Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
	Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment,
	Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
	Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
	About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
	Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
	Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
	I am the last of noble Edward's sons,
	Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first;
	In war was never lion rag'd more fierce,
	In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
	Than was that young and princely gentleman.
	His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
	Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
	But when he frown'd, it was against the French,
	And not against his friends; his noble hand
	Did win what he did spend, and spent not that
	Which his triumphant father's hand had won:
	His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood,
	But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
	O, Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
	Or else he never would compare between.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 2><SCENE 1><29%>
<YORK>	<30%>
	O! my liege.
	Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd
	Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.
	Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands
	The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford?
	Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live?
	Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true?
	Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
	Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
	Take Hereford's rights away, and take from Time
	His charters and his customary rights;
	Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;
	Be not thyself; for how art thou a king
	But by fair sequence and succession?
	Now, afore God,—God forbid I say true!—
	If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
	Call in the letters-patent that he hath
	By his attorneys-general to sue
	His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,
	You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
	You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,
	And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
	Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 2><SCENE 1><30%>
<YORK>	<31%>
	I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell:
	What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell;
	But by bad courses may be understood
	That their events can never fall out good.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 2><SCENE 2><36%>
<YORK>	<37%>
	Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts:
	Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
	Where nothing lives but crosses, cares, and grief.
	Your husband, he is gone to save far off,
	Whilst others come to make him lose at home:
	Here am I left to underprop his land,
	Who, weak with age, cannot support myself.
	Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
	Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

</YORK>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 2><SCENE 2><36%>
<YORK>	<37%>
	He was? Why, so! go all which way it will!
	The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
	And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
	Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester;
	Bid her send me presently a thousand pound.
	Hold, take my ring.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 2><SCENE 2><37%>
<YORK>	<37%>
	What is't, knave?
</YORK>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 2><SCENE 2><37%>
<YORK>	<38%>
	God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
	Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
	I know not what to do: I would to God,—
	So my untruth had not provok'd him to it,—
	The king had cut off my head with my brother's.
	What! are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland?
	How shall we do for money for these wars?
	Come, sister,—cousin, I would say,—pray, pardon me.—
	Go, fellow, get thee home; provide some carts
	And bring away the armour that is there.
<STAGE DIR>
<Exit Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know
	How or which way to order these affairs
	Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
	Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen:
	The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath
	And duty bids defend; the other again
	Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd,
	Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
	Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin,
	I'll dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster up your men,
	And meet me presently at Berkeley Castle.
	I should to Plashy too:
	But time will not permit. All is uneven,
	And every thing is left at six and seven.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 2><SCENE 3><42%>
<YORK>	<42%>
	Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
	Whose duty is deceivable and false.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 2><SCENE 3><42%>
<YORK>	<43%>
	Tut, tut!
	Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle:
	I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace'
	In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
	Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
	Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
	But then, more 'why?' why have they dar'd to march
	So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
	Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war
	And ostentation of despised arms?
	Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
	Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
	And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
	Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
	As when brave Gaunt thy father, and myself,
	Rescu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
	From forth the ranks of many thousand French,
	O! then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
	Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee
	And minister correction to thy fault!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 2><SCENE 3><43%>
<YORK>	<43%>
	Even in condition of the worst degree,
	In gross rebellion and detested treason:
	Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come
	Before the expiration of thy time,
	In braving arms against thy sovereign.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 2><SCENE 3><44%>
<YORK>	<44%>
	My lords of England, let me tell you this:
	I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs,
	And labour'd all I could to do him right;
	But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
	Be his own carver and cut out his way,
	To find out right with wrong, it may not be;
	And you that do abet him in this kind
	Cherish rebellion and are rebels all.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 2><SCENE 3><44%>
<YORK>	<45%>
	Well, well, I see the issue of these arms:
	I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
	Because my power is weak and all ill left;
	But if I could, by him that gave me life,
	I would attach you all and make you stoop
	Unto the sovereign mercy of the king;
	But since I cannot, be it known to you
	I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;
	Unless you please to enter in the castle
	And there repose you for this night.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 2><SCENE 3><45%>
<YORK>	<45%>
	It may be I will go with you; but yet I'll pause;
	For I am loath to break our country's laws.
	Nor friends nor foes, to me welcome you are:
	Things past redress are now with me past care.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 3><SCENE 1><47%>
<YORK>	<48%>
	A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
	With letters of your love to her at large.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 3><SCENE 3><55%>
<YORK>	<56%>
	It would beseem the Lord Northumberland
	To say, 'King Richard:' alack the heavy day
	When such a sacred king should hide his head!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 3><SCENE 3><55%>
<YORK>	<56%>
	The time hath been,
	Would you have been so brief with him, he would
	Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
	For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 3><SCENE 3><56%>
<YORK>	<56%>
	Take not, good cousin, further than you should,
	Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 3><SCENE 3><57%>
<YORK>	<58%>
	Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye,
	As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
	Controlling majesty: alack, alack, for woe,
	That any harm should stain so fair a show!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 4><SCENE 1><70%>
<YORK>	<71%>
	Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
	From plume-pluck'd Richard; who with willing soul
	Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
	To the possession of thy royal hand.
	Ascend his throne, descending now from him;
	And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<YORK>	<73%>
	I will be his conduct.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<YORK>	<74%>
	To do that office of thine own good will
	Which tired majesty did make thee offer,
	The resignation of thy state and crown
	To Henry Bolingbroke.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 5><SCENE 2><82%>
<YORK>	<83%>
	Where did I leave?
</YORK>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 5><SCENE 2><82%>
<YORK>	<83%>
	Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,
	Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,
	Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
	With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
	While all tongues cried, 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!'
	You would have thought the very windows spake,
	So many greedy looks of young and old
	Through casements darted their desiring eyes
	Upon his visage, and that all the walls
	With painted imagery had said at once
	'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!'
	Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
	Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
	Bespake them thus, 'I thank you, countrymen:'
	And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<YORK>	<84%>
	As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
	After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage,
	Are idly bent on him that enters next,
	Thinking his prattle to be tedious;
	Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
	Did scowl on Richard: no man cried, 'God save him;'
	No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home;
	But dust was thrown upon his sacred head,
	Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
	His face still combating with tears and smiles,
	The badges of his grief and patience,
	That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
	The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
	And barbarism itself have pitied him.
	But heaven hath a hand in these events,
	To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
	To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
	Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 5><SCENE 2><83%>
<YORK>	<84%>
	Aumerle that was;
	But that is lost for being Richard's friend,
	And, madam, you must call him Rutland now.
	I am in parliament pledge for his truth
	And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

</YORK>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
	Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
	What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs?
</YORK>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	You will be there, I know.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom?
	Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	No matter then, who sees it:
	I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 5><SCENE 2><84%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
	I fear, I fear,—
</YORK>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	Bound to himself! what doth he with a bond
	That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
	Boy, let me see the writing.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<85%>
	I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
<STAGE DIR>
<Snatches it, and reads.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Treason! foul treason! villain! traitor! slave!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Ho! who is within there?

<STAGE DIR>
<Enter a Servant.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Saddle my horse.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse.
	Now, by mine honour, by my life, my troth,
	I will appeach the villain.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Peace, foolish woman.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 5><SCENE 2><85%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Bring me my boots: I will unto the king.

</YORK>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Give me my boots, I say.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<YORK>	<86%>
	Thou fond, mad woman,
	Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
	A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
	And interchangeably set down their hands,
	To kill the king at Oxford.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<YORK>	<87%>
	Away, fond woman! were he twenty times
	My son, I would appeach him.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 5><SCENE 2><86%>
<YORK>	<87%>
	Make way, unruly woman!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 5><SCENE 3><88%>
<YORK>	<89%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Within.>
</STAGE DIR> My liege, beware! look to thyself;
	Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 5><SCENE 3><88%>
<YORK>	<89%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Within.>
</STAGE DIR> Open the door, secure, foolhardy king:
	Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
	Open the door, or I will break it open.
<STAGE DIR>
<Bolingbroke unlocks the door; and afterwards relocks it.>
</STAGE DIR>

</YORK>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 5><SCENE 3><89%>
<YORK>	<89%>
	Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
	The treason that my haste forbids me show.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 5><SCENE 3><89%>
<YORK>	<89%>
	'Twas, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
	I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
	Fear, and not love, begets his penitence.
	Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove
	A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 5><SCENE 3><89%>
<YORK>	<90%>
	So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd,
	And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
	As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
	Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
	Or my sham'd life in his dishonour lies:
	Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath,
	The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
</YORK>

<SPEECH 51><ACT 5><SCENE 3><90%>
<YORK>	<91%>
	If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
	More sins, for this forgiveness, prosper may.
	This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rests sound;
	This, let alone, will all the rest confound.

</YORK>

<SPEECH 52><ACT 5><SCENE 3><90%>
<YORK>	<91%>
	Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
	Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
</YORK>

<SPEECH 53><ACT 5><SCENE 3><91%>
<YORK>	<91%>
	Against them both my true joints bended be.
<STAGE DIR>
<Kneels.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Ill mayst thou thrive if thou grant any grace!
</YORK>

<SPEECH 54><ACT 5><SCENE 3><91%>
<YORK>	<92%>
	Speak it in French, king; say, 'pardonnez moy.'
</YORK>

