Scene Two
[The Coast of Wales. A Castle in view]
Drums, Flourish, and Colours.
Enter Richard, Aumerle, [the Bishop of] Carlisle,
and Soldiers.
K. Rich. Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand?
Aum. Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air,
After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
K. Rich. Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy 4
To stand upon my kingdom once again.
Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs:
As a long-parted mother with her child 8
Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favour with my royal hands.
Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, 12
Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way,
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet 16
Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;
And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder 20
Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords:
This earth shall have a feeling and these stones 24
1 Barkloughly; cf. n.
2 brooks: endures
23 conjuration: adjuration, prayer
