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The Tragedy of King Richard the Second

ACT I

SCENE I. London. KING RICHARD II's palace.

KING RICHARD IIOld John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster,
Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son,
Here to make good the boisterous late appeal,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 5Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
JOHN OF GAUNTI have, my liege.
KING RICHARD IITell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him,
If he appeal the duke on ancient malice;
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 10Or worthily, as a good subject should,
On some known ground of treachery in him?
JOHN OF GAUNTAs near as I could sift him on that argument,
On some apparent danger seen in him
Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 15Then call them to our presence; face to face,
And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
The accuser and the accused freely speak:
High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 20Many years of happy days befal
My gracious sovereign, my most loving liege!
THOMAS MOWBRAYEach day still better other's happiness;
Until the heavens, envying earth's good hap,
Add an immortal title to your crown!
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 25We thank you both: yet one but flatters us,
As well appeareth by the cause you come;
Namely to appeal each other of high treason.
Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 30First, heaven be the record to my speech!
In the devotion of a subject's love,
Tendering the precious safety of my prince,
And free from other misbegotten hate,
Come I appellant to this princely presence.
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 35Now, Thomas Mowbray, do I turn to thee,
And mark my greeting well; for what I speak
My body shall make good upon this earth,
Or my divine soul answer it in heaven.
Thou art a traitor and a miscreant,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 40Too good to be so and too bad to live,
Since the more fair and crystal is the sky,
The uglier seem the clouds that in it fly.
Once more, the more to aggravate the note,
With a foul traitor's name stuff I thy throat;
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 45And wish, so please my sovereign, ere I move,
What my tongue speaks my right drawn sword may prove.
THOMAS MOWBRAYLet not my cold words here accuse my zeal:
'Tis not the trial of a woman's war,
The bitter clamour of two eager tongues,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 50Can 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 nought at all to say:
First, the fair reverence of your highness curbs me
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 55From giving reins and spurs to my free speech;
Which else would post until it had return'd
These terms of treason doubled down his throat.
Setting aside his high blood's royalty,
And let him be no kinsman to my liege,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 60I do defy him, and I spit at him;
Call him a slanderous coward and a villain:
Which to maintain I would allow him odds,
And meet him, were I tied to run afoot
Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 65Or any other ground inhabitable,
Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.
Mean time let this defend my loyalty,
By all my hopes, most falsely doth he lie.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEPale trembling coward, there I throw my gage,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 70Disclaiming here the kindred of the king,
And lay aside my high blood's royalty,
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except.
If guilty dread have left thee so much strength
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop:
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 75By that and all the rites of knighthood else,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,
What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise.
THOMAS MOWBRAYI take it up; and by that sword I swear
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 80I'll answer thee in any fair degree,
Or chivalrous design of knightly trial:
And when I mount, alive may I not light,
If I be traitor or unjustly fight!
KING RICHARD IIWhat doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 85It must be great that can inherit us
So much as of a thought of ill in him.
HENRY BOLINGBROKELook, what I speak, my life shall prove it true;
That Mowbray hath received eight thousand nobles
In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 90The which he hath detain'd for lewd employments,
Like a false traitor and injurious villain.
Besides I say and will in battle prove,
Or here or elsewhere to the furthest verge
That ever was survey'd by English eye,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 95That all the treasons for these eighteen years
Complotted and contrived in this land
Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring.
Further I say and further will maintain
Upon his bad life to make all this good,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 100That he did plot the Duke of Gloucester's death,
Suggest his soon-believing adversaries,
And consequently, like a traitor coward,
Sluiced out his innocent soul through streams of blood:
Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 105Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth,
To me for justice and rough chastisement;
And, by the glorious worth of my descent,
This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.
KING RICHARD IIHow high a pitch his resolution soars!
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 110Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?
THOMAS MOWBRAYO, let my sovereign turn away his face
And bid his ears a little while be deaf,
Till I have told this slander of his blood,
How God and good men hate so foul a liar.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 115Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears:
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,
As he is but my father's brother's son,
Now, by my sceptre's awe, I make a vow,
Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 120Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize
The unstooping firmness of my upright soul:
He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou:
Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.
THOMAS MOWBRAYThen, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 125Through the false passage of thy throat, thou liest.
Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais
Disbursed I duly to his highness' soldiers;
The other part reserved I by consent,
For that my sovereign liege was in my debt
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 130Upon remainder of a dear account,
Since last I went to France to fetch his queen:
Now swallow down that lie. For Gloucester's death,
I slew him not; but to my own disgrace
Neglected my sworn duty in that case.
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 135For you, my noble Lord of Lancaster,
The honourable father to my foe
Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul
But ere I last received the sacrament
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 140I did confess it, and exactly begg'd
Your grace's pardon, and I hope I had it.
This is my fault: as for the rest appeall'd,
It issues from the rancour of a villain,
A recreant and most degenerate traitor
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 145Which in myself I boldly will defend;
And interchangeably hurl down my gage
Upon this overweening traitor's foot,
To prove myself a loyal gentleman
Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom.
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 150In haste whereof, most heartily I pray
Your highness to assign our trial day.
KING RICHARD IIWrath-kindled gentlemen, be ruled by me;
Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
This we prescribe, though no physician;
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 155Deep malice makes too deep incision;
Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed;
Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
Good uncle, let this end where it begun;
We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.
JOHN OF GAUNTAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 160To be a make-peace shall become my age:
Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
KING RICHARD IIAnd, Norfolk, throw down his.
JOHN OF GAUNTWhen, Harry, when?
Obedience bids I should not bid again.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 165Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot.
THOMAS MOWBRAYMyself 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,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 170To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have.
I am disgraced, impeach'd and baffled here,
Pierced to the soul with slander's venom'd spear,
The which no balm can cure but his heart-blood
Which breathed this poison.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 1 Ln 175Rage must be withstood:
Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame.
THOMAS MOWBRAYYea, but not change his spots: take but my shame.
And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord,
The purest treasure mortal times afford
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 180Is spotless reputation: that away,
Men are but gilded loam or painted clay.
A jewel in a ten-times-barr'd-up chest
Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
Mine honour is my life; both grow in one:
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 185Take honour from me, and my life is done:
Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try;
In that I live and for that will I die.
KING RICHARD IICousin, throw up your gage; do you begin.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEO, God defend my soul from such deep sin!
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 190Shall I seem crest-fall'n in my father's sight?
Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height
Before this out-dared dastard? Ere my tongue
Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong,
Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 195The slavish motive of recanting fear,
And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace,
Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face.
KING RICHARD IIWe were not born to sue, but to command;
Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 200Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day:
There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
The swelling difference of your settled hate:
Since we can not atone you, we shall see
Act 1 Sc 1 Ln 205Justice design the victor's chivalry.
Lord marshal, command our officers at arms
Be ready to direct these home alarms.

ACT I

SCENE II. The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace.

JOHN OF GAUNTAlas, the part I had in Woodstock's blood
Doth more solicit me than your exclaims,
To stir against the butchers of his life!
But since correction lieth in those hands
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 5Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
DUCHESSFinds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur?
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 10Hath love in thy old blood no living fire?
Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,
Were as seven vials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches springing from one root:
Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 15Some of those branches by the Destinies cut;
But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloucester,
One vial full of Edward's sacred blood,
One flourishing branch of his most royal root,
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt,
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 20Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded,
By envy's hand and murder's bloody axe.
Ah, Gaunt, his blood was thine! that bed, that womb,
That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee
Made him a man; and though thou livest and breathest,
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 25Yet art thou slain in him: thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt; it is despair:
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 30In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,
Thou showest the naked pathway to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:
That which in mean men we intitle patience
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 35What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.
JOHN OF GAUNTGod's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
His deputy anointed in His sight,
Hath caused his death: the which if wrongfully,
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 40Let heaven revenge; for I may never lift
An angry arm against His minister.
DUCHESSWhere then, alas, may I complain myself?
JOHN OF GAUNTTo God, the widow's champion and defence.
DUCHESSWhy, then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 45Thou goest to Coventry, there to behold
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,
That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast!
Or, if misfortune miss the first career,
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 50Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,
They may break his foaming courser's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!
Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 55With her companion grief must end her life.
JOHN OF GAUNTSister, farewell; I must to Coventry:
As much good stay with thee as go with me!
DUCHESSYet one word more: grief boundeth where it falls,
Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 60I take my leave before I have begun,
For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
Commend me to thy brother, Edmund York.
Lo, this is all: — nay, yet depart not so;
Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 65I shall remember more. Bid him — ah, what? —
With all good speed at Plashy visit me.
Alack, and what shall good old York there see
But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls,
Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones?
Act 1 Sc 2 Ln 70And what hear 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.

ACT I

SCENE III. The lists at Coventry.

Lord MarshalMy Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?
DUKE OF AUMERLEYea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
Lord MarshalThe Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,
Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 5Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stay
For nothing but his majesty's approach.
KING RICHARD IIMarshal, demand of yonder champion
The cause of his arrival here in arms:
Ask him his name and orderly proceed
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 10To swear him in the justice of his cause.
Lord MarshalIn God's name and the king's, say who thou art
And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms,
Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel:
Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 15As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!
THOMAS MOWBRAYMy name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk;
Who hither come engaged by my oath —
Which God defend a knight should violate! —
Both to defend my loyalty and truth
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 20To God, my king and my succeeding issue,
Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me
And, by the grace of God and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 25And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
KING RICHARD IIMarshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
Both who he is and why he cometh hither
Thus plated in habiliments of war,
And formally, according to our law,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 30Depose him in the justice of his cause.
Lord MarshalWhat is thy name? and wherefore comest 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!
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 35Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby
Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,
To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour,
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 40To God of heaven, King Richard and to me;
And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
Lord MarshalOn pain of death, no person be so bold
Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists,
Except the marshal and such officers
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 45Appointed to direct these fair designs.
HENRY BOLINGBROKELord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand,
And bow my knee before his majesty:
For Mowbray and myself are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 50Then let us take a ceremonious leave
And loving farewell of our several friends.
Lord MarshalThe appellant in all duty greets your highness,
And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.
KING RICHARD IIWe will descend and fold him in our arms.
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 55Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEO let no noble eye profane a tear
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 60For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear:
As confident as is the falcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 65Not sick, although I have to do with death,
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:
O thou, the earthly author of my blood,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 70Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a twofold 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,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 75That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,
And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt,
Even in the lusty havior of his son.
JOHN OF GAUNTGod in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
Be swift like lightning in the execution;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 80And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMine innocency and Saint George to thrive!
THOMAS MOWBRAYAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 85However God or fortune cast my lot,
There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,
A loyal, just and upright gentleman:
Never did captive with a freer heart
Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 90His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,
More than my dancing soul doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine adversary.
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years:
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 95As gentle and as jocund as to jest
Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.
KING RICHARD IIFarewell, my lord: securely I espy
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
Lord MarshalAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 100Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
HENRY BOLINGBROKEStrong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
Lord MarshalGo bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.
First HeraldHarry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 105Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself,
On pain to be found false and recreant,
To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king and him;
And dares him to set forward to the fight.
Second HeraldAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 110Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,
On pain to be found false and recreant,
Both to defend himself and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 115Courageously and with a free desire
Attending but the signal to begin.
Lord MarshalSound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants.
Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down.
KING RICHARD IILet them lay by their helmets and their spears,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 120And both return back to their chairs again:
Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound
While we return these dukes what we decree.
Draw near,
And list what with our council we have done.
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 125For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd
With that dear blood which it hath fostered;
And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword;
And for we think the eagle-winged pride
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 130Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-hating envy, set on you
To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;
Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 135With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
And make us wade even in our kindred's blood,
Therefore, we banish you our territories:
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 140You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEYour will be done: this must my comfort be,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 145Sun that warms you here shall shine on me;
And those his golden beams to you here lent
Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
KING RICHARD IINorfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,
Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 150The sly slow hours shall not determinate
The dateless limit of thy dear exile;
The hopeless word of 'never to return'
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
THOMAS MOWBRAYA heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 155And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth:
A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your highness' hands.
The language I have learn'd these forty years,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 160My native English, now I must forego:
And now my tongue's use is to me no more
Than an unstringed viol or a harp,
Or like a cunning instrument cased up,
Or, being open, put into his hands
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 165That knows no touch to tune the harmony:
Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips;
And dull unfeeling barren ignorance
Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 170I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Too far in years to be a pupil now:
What is thy sentence then but speechless death,
Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
KING RICHARD IIIt boots thee not to be compassionate:
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 175After our sentence plaining comes too late.
THOMAS MOWBRAYThen thus I turn me from my country's light,
To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
KING RICHARD IIReturn again, and take an oath with thee.
Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 180Swear by the duty that you owe to God —
Our part therein we banish with yourselves —
To keep the oath that we administer:
You never shall, so help you truth and God!
Embrace each other's love in banishment;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 185Nor never look upon each other's face;
Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
This louring tempest of your home-bred hate;
Nor never by advised purpose meet
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 190'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI swear.
THOMAS MOWBRAYAnd I, to keep all this.
HENRY BOLINGBROKENorfolk, so far as to mine enemy: —
By this time, had the king permitted us,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 195One of our souls had wander'd in the air.
Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banish'd from this land:
Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 200The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.
THOMAS MOWBRAYNo, Bolingbroke: if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd as from hence!
But what thou art, God, thou, and I do know;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 205And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.
Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray;
Save back to England, all the world's my way.
KING RICHARD IIUncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 210Hath from the number of his banish'd years
Pluck'd four away.
Six frozen winter spent,
Return with welcome home from banishment.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEHow long a time lies in one little word!
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 215Four lagging winters and four wanton springs
End in a word: such is the breath of kings.
JOHN OF GAUNTI thank my liege, that in regard of me
He shortens four years of my son's exile:
But little vantage shall I reap thereby;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 220For, ere the six years that he hath to spend
Can change their moons and bring their times about
My oil-dried lamp and time-bewasted light
Shall be extinct with age and endless night;
My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 225And blindfold death not let me see my son.
KING RICHARD IIWhy uncle, thou hast many years to live.
JOHN OF GAUNTBut not a minute, king, that thou canst give:
Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 230Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
Thy word is current with him for my death,
But dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.
KING RICHARD IIThy son is banish'd upon good advice,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 235Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave:
Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?
JOHN OF GAUNTThings sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
You urged me as a judge; but I had rather
You would have bid me argue like a father.
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 240O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
To smooth his fault I should have been more mild:
A partial slander sought I to avoid,
And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 245I was too strict to make mine own away;
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue
Against my will to do myself this wrong.
KING RICHARD IICousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so:
Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 250Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know,
From where you do remain let paper show.
Lord MarshalMy lord, no leave take I; for I will ride,
As far as land will let me, by your side.
JOHN OF GAUNTO, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 255That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue's office should be prodigal
To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
JOHN OF GAUNTThy grief is but thy absence for a time.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 260Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
JOHN OF GAUNTWhat is six winters? they are quickly gone.
HENRY BOLINGBROKETo men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
JOHN OF GAUNTCall it a travel that thou takest for pleasure.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMy heart will sigh when I miscall it so,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 265Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.
JOHN OF GAUNTThe sullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home return.
HENRY BOLINGBROKENay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 270Will but remember me what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign passages, and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 275But that I was a journeyman to grief?
JOHN OF GAUNTAll places that the eye of heaven visits
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
There is no virtue like necessity.
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 280Think not the king did banish thee,
But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour
And not the king exiled thee; or suppose
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 285Devouring pestilence hangs in our air
And thou art flying to a fresher clime:
Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou comest:
Suppose the singing birds musicians,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 290The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd,
The flowers fair ladies, and thy steps no more
Than a delightful measure or a dance;
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it and sets it light.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 295O, who can hold a fire in his hand
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 300By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.
JOHN OF GAUNTAct 1 Sc 3 Ln 305Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way:
Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThen, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,
Act 1 Sc 3 Ln 310Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.

ACT I

SCENE IV. The court.

KING RICHARD IIWe did observe. Cousin Aumerle,
How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
DUKE OF AUMERLEI brought high Hereford, if you call him so,
But to the next highway, and there I left him.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 4 Ln 5And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
DUKE OF AUMERLEFaith, none for me; except the north-east wind,
Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 4 Ln 10What said our cousin when you parted with him?
DUKE OF AUMERLE'Farewell:'
And, for my heart disdained that my tongue
Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such grief
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 15That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.
Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours
And added years to his short banishment,
He should have had a volume of farewells;
But since it would not, he had none of me.
KING RICHARD IIAct 1 Sc 4 Ln 20He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green
Observed his courtship to the common people;
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 25How he did seem to dive into their hearts
With humble and familiar courtesy,
What reverence he did throw away on slaves,
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles
And patient underbearing of his fortune,
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 30As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
A brace of draymen bid God speed him well
And had the tribute of his supple knee,
With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;'
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 35As were our England in reversion his,
And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
GREENWell, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts.
Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,
Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 40Ere further leisure yield them further means
For their advantage and your highness' loss.
KING RICHARD IIWe will ourself in person to this war:
And, for our coffers, with too great a court
And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 45We are inforced to farm our royal realm;
The revenue whereof shall furnish us
For our affairs in hand: if that come short,
Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters;
Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 50They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold
And send them after to supply our wants;
For we will make for Ireland presently.
Bushy, what news?
BUSHYOld John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 55Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste
To entreat your majesty to visit him.
KING RICHARD IIWhere lies he?
BUSHYAt Ely House.
KING RICHARD IINow put it, God, in the physician's mind
Act 1 Sc 4 Ln 60To help him to his grave immediately!
The lining of his coffers shall make coats
To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him:
Pray God we may make haste, and come too late!
AllAct 1 Sc 4 Ln 65Amen.

ACT II

SCENE I. Ely House.

JOHN OF GAUNTWill the king come, that I may breathe my last
In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
DUKE OF YORKVex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;
For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
JOHN OF GAUNTAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 5O, but they say the tongues of dying men
Enforce attention like deep harmony:
Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain,
For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
He that no more must say is listen'd more
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 10Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose;
More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before:
The setting sun, and music at the close,
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
Writ in remembrance more than things long past:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 15Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,
My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.
DUKE OF YORKNo; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,
As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond,
Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 20The 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 —
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 25So it be new, there's no respect how vile —
That is not quickly buzzed 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:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 30'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.
JOHN OF GAUNTMethinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus expiring do foretell of him:
His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 35Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;
He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder:
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 40This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise,
This fortress built by Nature for herself
Against infection and the hand of war,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 45This happy breed of men, this little world,
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 50This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
For Christian service and true chivalry,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 55As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son,
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 60Like to a tenement or pelting farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 65That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death!
DUKE OF YORKThe king is come: deal mildly with his youth;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 70For young hot colts being raged do rage the more.
QUEENHow fares our noble uncle, Lancaster?
KING RICHARD IIWhat comfort, man? how is't with aged Gaunt?
JOHN OF GAUNTO how that name befits my composition!
Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 75Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;
And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt?
For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;
Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt:
The pleasure that some fathers feed upon,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 80Is my strict fast; I mean, my children's looks;
And therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
KING RICHARD IICan sick men play so nicely with their names?
JOHN OF GAUNTAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 85No, misery makes sport to mock itself:
Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
KING RICHARD IIShould dying men flatter with those that live?
JOHN OF GAUNTNo, no, men living flatter those that die.
KING RICHARD IIAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 90Thou, now a-dying, say'st thou flatterest me.
JOHN OF GAUNTO, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be.
KING RICHARD III am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
JOHN OF GAUNTNow He that made me knows I see thee ill;
Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 95Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
Wherein thou liest in reputation sick;
And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 100A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
Whose compass is no bigger than thy head;
And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
O, had thy grandsire with a prophet's eye
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 105Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.
Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 110It were a shame to let this land by lease;
But for thy world enjoying but this land,
Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou now, not king:
Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; And thou —
KING RICHARD IIAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 115A lunatic lean-witted fool,
Presuming on an ague's privilege,
Darest with thy frozen admonition
Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
With fury from his native residence.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 120Now, by my seat's right royal majesty,
Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
JOHN OF GAUNTO, spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 125For that I was his father Edward's son;
That blood already, like the pelican,
Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly caroused:
My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul,
Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls!
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 130May be a precedent and witness good
That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood:
Join with the present sickness that I have;
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too long wither'd flower.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 135Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:
Love they to live that love and honour have.
KING RICHARD IIAnd let them die that age and sullens have;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 140For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
DUKE OF YORKI 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.
KING RICHARD IIAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 145Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his;
As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty.
KING RICHARD IIWhat says he?
NORTHUMBERLANDNay, nothing; all is said
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 150His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
DUKE OF YORKBe York the next that must be bankrupt so!
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
KING RICHARD IIThe ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 155His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be.
So much for that. Now for our Irish wars:
We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
Which live like venom where no venom else
But only they have privilege to live.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 160And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
Towards our assistance we do seize to us
The plate, corn, revenues and moveables,
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
DUKE OF YORKHow long shall I be patient? ah, how long
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 165Shall 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,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 170Have 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 raged more fierce,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 175In 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
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 180And not against his friends; his noble hand
Did will what he did spend and spent not that
Which his triumphant father's hand had won;
His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 185O Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Or else he never would compare between.
KING RICHARD IIWhy, uncle, what's the matter?
DUKE OF YORKO my liege,
Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleased
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 190Not 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?
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 195Did 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;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 200Be 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
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 205By 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
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 210Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
KING RICHARD IIThink what you will, we seize into our hands
His plate, his goods, his money and his lands.
DUKE OF YORKI'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell:
What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 215But by bad courses may be understood
That their events can never fall out good.
KING RICHARD IIGo, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight:
Bid him repair to us to Ely House
To see this business. To-morrow next
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 220We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow:
And we create, in absence of ourself,
Our uncle York lord governor of England;
For he is just and always loved us well.
Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 225Be merry, for our time of stay is short
NORTHUMBERLANDWell, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
LORD ROSSAnd living too; for now his son is duke.
LORD WILLOUGHBYBarely in title, not in revenue.
NORTHUMBERLANDRichly in both, if justice had her right.
LORD ROSSAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 230My heart is great; but it must break with silence,
Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue.
NORTHUMBERLANDNay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more
That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
LORD WILLOUGHBYTends that thou wouldst speak to the Duke of Hereford?
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 235If it be so, out with it boldly, man;
Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
LORD ROSSNo good at all that I can do for him;
Unless you call it good to pity him,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
NORTHUMBERLANDAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 240Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne
In him, a royal prince, and many moe
Of noble blood in this declining land.
The king is not himself, but basely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 245Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
That will the king severely prosecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
LORD ROSSThe commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes,
And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 250For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.
LORD WILLOUGHBYAnd daily new exactions are devised,
As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what:
But what, o' God's name, doth become of this?
NORTHUMBERLANDWars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 255But basely yielded upon compromise
That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows:
More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
LORD ROSSThe Earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
LORD WILLOUGHBYThe king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.
NORTHUMBERLANDAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 260Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
LORD ROSSHe hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,
But by the robbing of the banish'd duke.
NORTHUMBERLANDHis noble kinsman: most degenerate king!
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 265But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm;
We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
LORD ROSSWe see the very wreck that we must suffer;
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 270And unavoided is the danger now,
For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
NORTHUMBERLANDNot so; even through the hollow eyes of death
I spy life peering; but I dare not say
How near the tidings of our comfort is.
LORD WILLOUGHBYAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 275Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours.
LORD ROSSBe confident to speak, Northumberland:
We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold.
NORTHUMBERLANDThen thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 280In Brittany, received intelligence
That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham,
That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 285Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint,
All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 290Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Act 2 Sc 1 Ln 295Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt
And make high majesty look like itself,
Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay and be secret, and myself will go.
LORD ROSSAct 2 Sc 1 Ln 300To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear.
LORD WILLOUGHBYHold out my horse, and I will first be there.

ACT II

SCENE II. The palace.

BUSHYMadam, your majesty is too much sad:
You promised, when you parted with the king,
To lay aside life-harming heaviness
And entertain a cheerful disposition.
QUEENAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 5To please the king I did; to please myself
I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 10Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king.
BUSHYEach substance of a grief hath twenty shadows,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 15Which shows like grief itself, but is not so;
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon
Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 20Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail;
Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 25More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen;
Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
Which for things true weeps things imaginary.
QUEENIt may be so; but yet my inward soul
Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 30I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad
As, though on thinking on no thought I think,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
BUSHY'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.
QUEEN'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 35From some forefather grief; mine is not so,
For nothing had begot my something grief;
Or something hath the nothing that I grieve:
'Tis in reversion that I do possess;
But what it is, that is not yet known; what
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 40I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.
GREENGod save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen:
I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.
QUEENWhy hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is;
For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope:
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 45Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd?
GREENThat he, our hope, might have retired his power,
And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
Who strongly hath set footing in this land:
The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 50And with uplifted arms is safe arrived
At Ravenspurgh.
QUEENNow God in heaven forbid!
GREENAh, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,
The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 55The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
BUSHYWhy have you not proclaim'd Northumberland
And all the rest revolted faction traitors?
GREENWe have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 60Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
And all the household servants fled with him
To Bolingbroke.
QUEENSo, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir:
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 65Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
BUSHYDespair not, madam.
QUEENWho shall hinder me?
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 70I will despair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope: he is a flatterer,
A parasite, a keeper back of death,
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
Which false hope lingers in extremity.
GREENAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 75Here comes the Duke of York.
QUEENWith signs of war about his aged neck:
O, full of careful business are his looks!
Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words.
DUKE OF YORKShould I do so, I should belie my thoughts:
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 80Comfort'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,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 85Who, 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.
ServantMy lord, your son was gone before I came.
DUKE OF YORKHe was? Why, so! go all which way it will!
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 90The 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.
ServantAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 95My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship,
To-day, as I came by, I called there;
But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
DUKE OF YORKWhat is't, knave?
ServantAn hour before I came, the duchess died.
DUKE OF YORKAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 100God 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 provoked him to it,
The king had cut off my head with my brother's.
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 105What, 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.
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 110Gentlemen, 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
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 115And 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.
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 120Gentlemen, go, muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkeley.
I should to Plashy too;
But time will not permit: all is uneven,
And every thing is left at six and seven.
BUSHYAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 125The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,
But none returns. For us to levy power
Proportionable to the enemy
Is all unpossible.
GREENBesides, our nearness to the king in love
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 130Is near the hate of those love not the king.
BAGOTAnd that's the wavering commons: for their love
Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them
By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
BUSHYWherein the king stands generally condemn'd.
BAGOTAct 2 Sc 2 Ln 135If judgement lie in them, then so do we,
Because we ever have been near the king.
GREENWell, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle:
The Earl of Wiltshire is already there.
BUSHYThither will I with you; for little office
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 140The hateful commons will perform for us,
Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.
Will you go along with us?
BAGOTNo; I will to Ireland to his majesty.
Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain,
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 145We three here art that ne'er shall meet again.
BUSHYThat's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.
GREENAlas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry:
Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
Act 2 Sc 2 Ln 150Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever.
BUSHYWell, we may meet again.
BAGOTI fear me, never.

ACT II

SCENE III. Wilds in Gloucestershire.

HENRY BOLINGBROKEHow far is it, my lord, to Berkeley now?
NORTHUMBERLANDBelieve me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire:
These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 5Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome,
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
But I bethink me what a weary way
From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 10In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess;
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 15And hope to joy is little less in joy
Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
By sight of what I have, your noble company.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEOf much less value is my company
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 20Than your good words. But who comes here?
NORTHUMBERLANDIt is my son, young Harry Percy,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
Harry, how fares your uncle?
HENRY PERCYI had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.
NORTHUMBERLANDAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 25Why, is he not with the queen?
HENRY PERCYNo, my good Lord; he hath forsook the court,
Broken his staff of office and dispersed
The household of the king.
NORTHUMBERLANDWhat was his reason?
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 30He was not so resolved when last we spake together.
HENRY PERCYBecause your lordship was proclaimed traitor.
But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurgh,
To offer service to the Duke of Hereford,
And sent me over by Berkeley, to discover
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 35What power the Duke of York had levied there;
Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurgh.
NORTHUMBERLANDHave you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
HENRY PERCYNo, my good lord, for that is not forgot
Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 40I never in my life did look on him.
NORTHUMBERLANDThen learn to know him now; this is the duke.
HENRY PERCYMy gracious lord, I tender you my service,
Such as it is, being tender, raw and young:
Which elder days shall ripen and confirm
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 45To more approved service and desert.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure
I count myself in nothing else so happy
As in a soul remembering my good friends;
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 50It shall be still thy true love's recompense:
My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
NORTHUMBERLANDHow far is it to Berkeley? and what stir
Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
HENRY PERCYThere stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 55Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard;
And in it are the Lords of York, Berkeley, and Seymour;
None else of name and noble estimate.
NORTHUMBERLANDHere come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 60Welcome, my lords. I wot your love pursues
A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
Is yet but unfelt thanks, which more enrich'd
Shall be your love and labour's recompense.
LORD ROSSYour presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
LORD WILLOUGHBYAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 65And far surmounts our labour to attain it.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEEvermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor;
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
NORTHUMBERLANDIt is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
LORD BERKELEYAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 70My Lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMy lord, my answer is — to Lancaster;
And I am come to seek that name in England;
And I must find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you say.
LORD BERKELEYAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 75Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning
To raze one title of your honour out:
To you, my lord, I come, what lord you will,
From the most gracious regent of this land,
The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 80To take advantage of the absent time
And fright our native peace with self-born arms.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle!
DUKE OF YORKShow me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 85Whose duty is deceiveable and false.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMy gracious uncle —
DUKE OF YORKTut, tut!
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle:
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word 'grace.'
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 90In an ungracious mouth is but profane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dared once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But then more 'why?' why have they dared to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 95Frighting her pale-faced villages with war
And ostentation of despised arms?
Comest thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 100Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself
Rescued 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.
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 105Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee
And minister correction to thy fault!
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMy gracious uncle, let me know my fault:
On what condition stands it and wherein?
DUKE OF YORKEven in condition of the worst degree,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 110In 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.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAs I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford;
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 115But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
You are my father, for methinks in you
I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 120Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wandering vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce and given away
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my cousin king be King of England,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 125It must be granted I am Duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble cousin;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs and chase them to the bay.
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 130I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patents give me leave:
My father's goods are all distrain'd and sold,
And these and all are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 135And I challenge law: attorneys are denied me;
And therefore, personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.
NORTHUMBERLANDThe noble duke hath been too much abused.
LORD ROSSIt stands your grace upon to do him right.
LORD WILLOUGHBYAct 2 Sc 3 Ln 140Base men by his endowments are made great.
DUKE OF YORKMy lords of England, let me tell you this:
I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs
And laboured all I could to do him right;
But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 145Be 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.
NORTHUMBERLANDThe noble duke hath sworn his coming is
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 150But for his own; and for the right of that
We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;
And let him ne'er see joy that breaks that oath!
DUKE OF YORKWell, well, I see the issue of these arms:
I cannot mend it, I must needs confess,
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 155Because 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
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 160I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well;
Unless you please to enter in the castle
And there repose you for this night.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAn offer, uncle, that we will accept:
But we must win your grace to go with us
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 165To Bristol castle, which they say is held
By Bushy, Bagot and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
Which I have sworn to weed and pluck away.
DUKE OF YORKIt may be I will go with you: but yet I'll pause;
Act 2 Sc 3 Ln 170For 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.

ACT II

SCENE IV. A camp in Wales.

CaptainMy lord of Salisbury, we have stay'd ten days,
And hardly kept our countrymen together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
Therefore we will disperse ourselves: farewell.
EARL OF SALISBURYAct 2 Sc 4 Ln 5Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman:
The king reposeth all his confidence in thee.
Captain'Tis thought the king is dead; we will not stay.
The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven;
Act 2 Sc 4 Ln 10The pale-faced moon looks bloody on the earth
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
Rich men look sad and ruffians dance and leap,
The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
The other to enjoy by rage and war:
Act 2 Sc 4 Ln 15These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.
Farewell: our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well assured Richard their king is dead.
EARL OF SALISBURYAh, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind
I see thy glory like a shooting star
Act 2 Sc 4 Ln 20Fall to the base earth from the firmament.
Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
Witnessing storms to come, woe and unrest:
Thy friends are fled to wait upon thy foes,
And crossly to thy good all fortune goes.

ACT III

SCENE I. Bristol. Before the castle.

HENRY BOLINGBROKEBring forth these men.
Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls —
Since presently your souls must part your bodies —
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 5For 'twere no charity; yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here in the view of men
I will unfold some causes of your deaths.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 10By you unhappied and disfigured clean:
You have in manner with your sinful hours
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
Broke the possession of a royal bed
And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 15With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
Near to the king in blood, and near in love
Till you did make him misinterpret me,
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 20And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
From my own windows torn my household coat,
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 25Razed out my imprese, leaving me no sign,
Save men's opinions and my living blood,
To show the world I am a gentleman.
This and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death. See them deliver'd over
Act 3 Sc 1 Ln 30To execution and the hand of death.
BUSHYMore welcome is the stroke of death to me
Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.
GREENMy comfort is that heaven will take our souls
And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 3 Sc 1 Ln 35My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatch'd.
Uncle, you say the queen is at your house;
For God's sake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver'd.
DUKE OF YORKAct 3 Sc 1 Ln 40A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
With letters of your love to her at large.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThank, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away.
To fight with Glendower and his complices:
Awhile to work, and after holiday.

ACT III

SCENE II. The coast of Wales. A castle in view.

KING RICHARD IIBarkloughly castle call they this at hand?
DUKE OF AUMERLEYea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air,
After your late tossing on the breaking seas?
KING RICHARD IINeeds must I like it well: I weep for joy
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 5To 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
Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 10So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favours with my royal hands.
Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 15And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way,
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
Which with usurping steps do trample thee:
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies;
And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 20Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder
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
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 25Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king
Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.
BISHOP OF CARLISLEFear not, my lord: that Power that made you king
Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
The means that heaven yields must be embraced,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 30And not neglected; else, if heaven would,
And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse,
The proffer'd means of succor and redress.
DUKE OF AUMERLEHe means, my lord, that we are too remiss;
Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 35Grows strong and great in substance and in power.
KING RICHARD IIDiscomfortable cousin! know'st thou not
That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,
Behind the globe, that lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 40In murders and in outrage, boldly here;
But when from under this terrestrial ball
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
And darts his light through every guilty hole,
Then murders, treasons and detested sins,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 45The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their backs,
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves?
So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
Who all this while hath revell'd in the night
Whilst we were wandering with the antipodes,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 50Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
Not able to endure the sight of day,
But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.
Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 55Can wash the balm off from an anointed king;
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The deputy elected by the Lord:
For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 60God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.
Welcome, my lord how far off lies your power?
EARL OF SALISBURYNor near nor farther off, my gracious lord,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 65Than this weak arm: discomfort guides my tongue
And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
Hath clouded all thy happy days on earth:
O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 70And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men!
To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
O'erthrows thy joys, friends, fortune and thy state:
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead.
Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and fled.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 3 Sc 2 Ln 75Comfort, my liege; why looks your grace so pale?
KING RICHARD IIBut now the blood of twenty thousand men
Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
And, till so much blood thither come again,
Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 80All souls that will be safe fly from my side,
For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
DUKE OF AUMERLEComfort, my liege; remember who you are.
KING RICHARD III had forgot myself; am I not king?
Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 85Is not the king's name twenty thousand names?
Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes
At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
Ye favourites of a king: are we not high?
High be our thoughts: I know my uncle York
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 90Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPMore health and happiness betide my liege
Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him!
KING RICHARD IIMine ear is open and my heart prepared;
The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 95Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my care
And what loss is it to be rid of care?
Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
Greater he shall not be; if he serve God,
We'll serve Him too and be his fellow so:
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 100Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend;
They break their faith to God as well as us:
Cry woe, destruction, ruin and decay:
The worst is death, and death will have his day.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPGlad am I that your highness is so arm'd
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 105To bear the tidings of calamity.
Like an unseasonable stormy day,
Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores,
As if the world were all dissolved to tears,
So high above his limits swells the rage
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 110Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
With hard bright steel and hearts harder than steel.
White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps
Against thy majesty; boys, with women's voices,
Strive to speak big and clap their female joints
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 115In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown:
The very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
Of double-fatal yew against thy state;
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat: both young and old rebel,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 120And all goes worse than I have power to tell.
KING RICHARD IIToo well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 125Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it:
I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPPeace have they made with him indeed, my lord.
KING RICHARD IIO villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 130Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man!
Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my heart!
Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
Would they make peace? terrible hell make war
Upon their spotted souls for this offence!
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPAct 3 Sc 2 Ln 135Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate:
Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse
Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 140And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground.
DUKE OF AUMERLEIs Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPAy, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.
DUKE OF AUMERLEWhere is the duke my father with his power?
KING RICHARD IINo matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 145Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth,
Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 150Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our lands, our lives and all are Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own but death
And that small model of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 155For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
And tell sad stories of the death of kings;
How some have been deposed; some slain in war,
Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed;
Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping kill'd;
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 160All murder'd: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the antic sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 165To monarchize, be fear'd and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this flesh which walls about our life,
Were brass impregnable, and humour'd thus
Comes at the last and with a little pin
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 170Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence: throw away respect,
Tradition, form and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while:
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 175I live with bread like you, feel want,
Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus,
How can you say to me, I am a king?
BISHOP OF CARLISLEMy lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
But presently prevent the ways to wail.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 180To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe,
And so your follies fight against yourself.
Fear and be slain; no worse can come to fight:
And fight and die is death destroying death;
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 185Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
DUKE OF AUMERLEMy father hath a power; inquire of him
And learn to make a body of a limb.
KING RICHARD IIThou chidest me well: proud Bolingbroke, I come
To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 190This ague fit of fear is over-blown;
An easy task it is to win our own.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOPMen judge by the complexion of the sky
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 195The state and inclination of the day:
So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
I play the torturer, by small and small
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 200Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your northern castles yielded up,
And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Upon his party.
KING RICHARD IIThou hast said enough.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 205Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
Of that sweet way I was in to despair!
What say you now? what comfort have we now?
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
That bids me be of comfort any more.
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 210Go to Flint castle: there I'll pine away;
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
That power I have, discharge; and let them go
To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
For I have none: let no man speak again
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 215To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
DUKE OF AUMERLEMy liege, one word.
KING RICHARD IIHe does me double wrong
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Discharge my followers: let them hence away,
Act 3 Sc 2 Ln 220From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.

ACT III

SCENE III. Wales. Before Flint castle.

HENRY BOLINGBROKESo that by this intelligence we learn
The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed
With some few private friends upon this coast.
NORTHUMBERLANDAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 5The news is very fair and good, my lord:
Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
DUKE OF YORKIt would beseem the Lord Northumberland
To say 'King Richard:' alack the heavy day
When such a sacred king should hide his head.
NORTHUMBERLANDAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 10Your grace mistakes; only to be brief
Left I his title out.
DUKE OF YORKThe time hath been,
Would you have been so brief with him, he would
Have been so brief with you, to shorten you,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 15For taking so the head, your whole head's length.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMistake not, uncle, further than you should.
DUKE OF YORKTake not, good cousin, further than you should.
Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI know it, uncle, and oppose not myself
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 20Against their will. But who comes here?
Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield?
HENRY PERCYThe castle royally is mann'd, my lord,
Against thy entrance.
HENRY BOLINGBROKERoyally!
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 25Why, it contains no king?
HENRY PERCYYes, my good lord,
It doth contain a king; King Richard lies
Within the limits of yon lime and stone:
And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 30Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman
Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.
NORTHUMBERLANDO, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
HENRY BOLINGBROKENoble lords,
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 35Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry Bolingbroke
On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand
And sends allegiance and true faith of heart
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 40To his most royal person, hither come
Even at his feet to lay my arms and power,
Provided that my banishment repeal'd
And lands restored again be freely granted:
If not, I'll use the advantage of my power
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 45And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen:
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench
The fresh green lap of fair King Richard's land,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 50My stooping duty tenderly shall show.
Go, signify as much, while here we march
Upon the grassy carpet of this plain.
Let's march without the noise of threatening drum,
That from this castle's tatter'd battlements
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 55Our fair appointments may be well perused.
Methinks King Richard and myself should meet
With no less terror than the elements
Of fire and water, when their thundering shock
At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 60Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
The rage be his, whilst on the earth I rain
My waters; on the earth, and not on him.
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.
See, see, King Richard doth himself appear,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 65As doth the blushing discontented sun
From out the fiery portal of the east,
When he perceives the envious clouds are bent
To dim his glory and to stain the track
Of his bright passage to the occident.
DUKE OF YORKAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 70Yet 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!
KING RICHARD IIWe are amazed; and thus long have we stood
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 75To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
To pay their awful duty to our presence?
If we be not, show us the hand of God
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 80That hath dismissed us from our stewardship;
For well we know, no hand of blood and bone
Can gripe the sacred handle of our sceptre,
Unless he do profane, steal, or usurp.
And though you think that all, as you have done,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 85Have torn their souls by turning them from us,
And we are barren and bereft of friends;
Yet know, my master, God omnipotent,
Is mustering in his clouds on our behalf
Armies of pestilence; and they shall strike
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 90Your children yet unborn and unbegot,
That lift your vassal hands against my head
And threat the glory of my precious crown.
Tell Bolingbroke — for yond methinks he stands —
That every stride he makes upon my land
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 95Is dangerous treason: he is come to open
The purple testament of bleeding war;
But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 100Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
To scarlet indignation and bedew
Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
NORTHUMBERLANDThe king of heaven forbid our lord the king
Should so with civil and uncivil arms
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 105Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin
Harry Bolingbroke doth humbly kiss thy hand;
And by the honourable tomb he swears,
That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
And by the royalties of both your bloods,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 110Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
His coming hither hath no further scope
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 115Than for his lineal royalties and to beg
Enfranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 120To faithful service of your majesty.
This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
KING RICHARD IINorthumberland, say thus the king returns:
His noble cousin is right welcome hither;
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 125And all the number of his fair demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction:
With all the gracious utterance thou hast
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
We do debase ourselves, cousin, do we not,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 130To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
DUKE OF AUMERLENo, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words
Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords.
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 135O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment
On yon proud man, should take it off again
With words of sooth! O that I were as great
As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 140Or that I could forget what I have been,
Or not remember what I must be now!
Swell'st thou, proud heart? I'll give thee scope to beat,
Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.
DUKE OF AUMERLENorthumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 145What must the king do now? must he submit?
The king shall do it: must he be deposed?
The king shall be contented: must he lose
The name of king? o' God's name, let it go:
I'll give my jewels for a set of beads,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 150My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
My gay apparel for an almsman's gown,
My figured goblets for a dish of wood,
My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff,
My subjects for a pair of carved saints
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 155And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave;
Or I'll be buried in the king's highway,
Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign's head;
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 160For on my heart they tread now whilst I live;
And buried once, why not upon my head?
Aumerle, thou weep'st, my tender-hearted cousin!
We'll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 165And make a dearth in this revolting land.
Or shall we play the wantons with our woes,
And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
As thus, to drop them still upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 170Within the earth; and, therein laid, — there lies
Two kinsmen digg'd their graves with weeping eyes.
Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see
I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 175What says King Bolingbroke? will his majesty
Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy lord, in the base court he doth attend
To speak with you; may it please you to come down.
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 180Down, down I come; like glistering Phaethon,
Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
To come at traitors' calls and do them grace.
In the base court? Come down? Down, court!
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 185down, king!
For night-owls shriek where mounting larks
should sing.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWhat says his majesty?
NORTHUMBERLANDSorrow and grief of heart
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 190Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man
Yet he is come.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEStand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty.
My gracious lord, —
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 195Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
To make the base earth proud with kissing it:
Me rather had my heart might feel your love
Than my unpleased eye see your courtesy.
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 200Thus high at least, although your knee be low.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEMy gracious lord, I come but for mine own.
KING RICHARD IIYour own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
HENRY BOLINGBROKESo far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
As my true service shall deserve your love.
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 205Well you deserve: they well deserve to have,
That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
Uncle, give me your hands: nay, dry your eyes;
Tears show their love, but want their remedies.
Cousin, I am too young to be your father,
Act 3 Sc 3 Ln 210Though you are old enough to be my heir.
What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
For do we must what force will have us do.
Set on towards London, cousin, is it so?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEYea, my good lord.
KING RICHARD IIAct 3 Sc 3 Ln 215Then I must not say no.

ACT III

SCENE IV. LANGLEY. The DUKE OF YORK's garden.

QUEENWhat sport shall we devise here in this garden,
To drive away the heavy thought of care?
LadyMadam, we'll play at bowls.
QUEEN'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 5And that my fortune rubs against the bias.
LadyMadam, we'll dance.
QUEENMy legs can keep no measure in delight,
When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief:
Therefore, no dancing, girl; some other sport.
LadyAct 3 Sc 4 Ln 10Madam, we'll tell tales.
QUEENOf sorrow or of joy?
LadyOf either, madam.
QUEENOf neither, girl:
For of joy, being altogether wanting,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 15It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
Or if of grief, being altogether had,
It adds more sorrow to my want of joy:
For what I have I need not to repeat;
And what I want it boots not to complain.
LadyAct 3 Sc 4 Ln 20Madam, I'll sing.
QUEEN'Tis well that thou hast cause
But thou shouldst please me better, wouldst thou weep.
LadyI could weep, madam, would it do you good.
QUEENAnd I could sing, would weeping do me good,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 25And never borrow any tear of thee.
But stay, here come the gardeners:
Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins,
They'll talk of state; for every one doth so
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 30Against a change; woe is forerun with woe.
GardenerGo, bind thou up yon dangling apricocks,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 35Go thou, and like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprays,
That look too lofty in our commonwealth:
All must be even in our government.
You thus employ'd, I will go root away
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 40The noisome weeds, which without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.
ServantWhy should we in the compass of a pale
Keep law and form and due proportion,
Showing, as in a model, our firm estate,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 45When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds, her fairest flowers choked up,
Her fruit-trees all upturned, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?
GardenerAct 3 Sc 4 Ln 50Hold thy peace:
He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd spring
Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf:
The weeds which his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
That seem'd in eating him to hold him up,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 55Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke,
I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.
ServantWhat, are they dead?
GardenerThey are; and Bolingbroke
Hath seized the wasteful king. O, what pity is it
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 60That 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,
Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood,
With too much riches it confound itself:
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 65Had he done so to great and growing men,
They might have lived to bear and he to taste
Their fruits of duty: superfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughs may live:
Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 70Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down.
ServantWhat, think you then the king shall be deposed?
GardenerDepress'd he is already, and deposed
'Tis doubt he will be: letters came last night
To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 75That tell black tidings.
QUEENO, I am press'd to death through want of speaking!
Thou, old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden,
How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news?
What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 80To make a second fall of cursed man?
Why dost thou say King Richard is deposed?
Darest thou, thou little better thing than earth,
Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how,
Camest thou by this ill tidings? speak, thou wretch.
GardenerAct 3 Sc 4 Ln 85Pardon 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,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 90And some few vanities that make him light;
But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,
Besides himself, are all the English peers,
And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.
Post you to London, and you will find it so;
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 95I speak no more than every one doth know.
QUEENNimble mischance, that art so light of foot,
Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
And am I last that knows it? O, thou think'st
To serve me last, that I may longest keep
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 100Thy sorrow in my breast. Come, ladies, go,
To meet at London London's king in woe.
What, was I born to this, that my sad look
Should grace the triumph of great Bolingbroke?
Gardener, for telling me these news of woe,
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 105Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow.
GARDENERPoor queen! so that thy state might be no worse,
I would my skill were subject to thy curse.
Here did she fall a tear; here in this place
I'll set a bank of rue, sour herb of grace:
Act 3 Sc 4 Ln 110Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the remembrance of a weeping queen.

ACT IV

SCENE I. Westminster Hall.

HENRY BOLINGBROKECall forth Bagot.
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind;
What thou dost know of noble Gloucester's death,
Who wrought it with the king, and who perform'd
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 5The bloody office of his timeless end.
BAGOTThen set before my face the Lord Aumerle.
HENRY BOLINGBROKECousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
BAGOTMy Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scorns to unsay what once it hath deliver'd.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 10In that dead time when Gloucester's death was plotted,
I heard you say, 'Is not my arm of length,
That reacheth from the restful English court
As far as Calais, to mine uncle's head?'
Amongst much other talk, that very time,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 15I heard you say that you had rather refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand crowns
Than Bolingbroke's return to England;
Adding withal how blest this land would be
In this your cousin's death.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 20Princes and noble lords,
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars,
On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honour soil'd
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 25With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
There is my gage, the manual seal of death,
That marks thee out for hell: I say, thou liest,
And will maintain what thou hast said is false
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 30To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEBagot, forbear; thou shalt not take it up.
DUKE OF AUMERLEExcepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence that hath moved me so.
LORD FITZWATERIf that thy valour stand on sympathy,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 35There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine:
By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand'st,
I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spakest it
That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester's death.
If thou deny'st it twenty times, thou liest;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 40And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier's point.
DUKE OF AUMERLEThou darest not, coward, live to see that day.
LORD FITZWATERNow by my soul, I would it were this hour.
DUKE OF AUMERLEFitzwater, thou art damn'd to hell for this.
HENRY PERCYAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 45Aumerle, thou liest; his honour is as true
In this appeal as thou art all unjust;
And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
To prove it on thee to the extremest point
Of mortal breathing: seize it, if thou darest.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 50An if I do not, may my hands rot off
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
LordI task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle;
And spur thee on with full as many lies
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 55As may be holloa'd in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun: there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
DUKE OF AUMERLEWho sets me else? by heaven, I'll throw at all:
I have a thousand spirits in one breast,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 60To answer twenty thousand such as you.
DUKE OF SURREYMy Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
LORD FITZWATER'Tis very true: you were in presence then;
And you can witness with me this is true.
DUKE OF SURREYAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 65As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
LORD FITZWATERSurrey, thou liest.
DUKE OF SURREYDishonourable boy!
That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword,
That it shall render vengeance and revenge
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 70Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie
In earth as quiet as thy father's skull:
In proof whereof, there is my honour's pawn;
Engage it to the trial, if thou darest.
LORD FITZWATERHow fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 75If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness,
And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies,
And lies, and lies: there is my bond of faith,
To tie thee to my strong correction.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 80As I intend to thrive in this new world,
Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal:
Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolk say
That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
To execute the noble duke at Calais.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 85Some honest Christian trust me with a gage
That Norfolk lies: here do I throw down this,
If he may be repeal'd, to try his honour.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThese differences shall all rest under gage
Till Norfolk be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 90And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his lands and signories: when he's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
BISHOP OF CARLISLEThat honourable day shall ne'er be seen.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolk fought
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 95For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens:
And toil'd with works of war, retired himself
To Italy; and there at Venice gave
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 100His body to that pleasant country's earth,
And his pure soul unto his captain Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWhy, bishop, is Norfolk dead?
BISHOP OF CARLISLEAs surely as I live, my lord.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 105Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,
Your differences shall all rest under gage
Till we assign you to your days of trial.
DUKE OF YORKGreat Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 110From 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, fourth of that name!
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 115In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne.
BISHOP OF CARLISLEMarry. God forbid!
Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
Would God that any in this noble presence
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 120Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard! then true noblesse would
Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
What subject can give sentence on his king?
And who sits here that is not Richard's subject?
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 125Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear,
Although apparent guilt be seen in them;
And shall the figure of God's majesty,
His captain, steward, deputy-elect,
Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 130Be judged by subject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God,
That in a Christian climate souls refined
Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 135Stirr'd up by God, thus boldly for his king:
My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford's king:
And if you crown him, let me prophesy:
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 140And future ages groan for this foul act;
Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound;
Disorder, horror, fear and mutiny
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 145Shall here inhabit, and this land be call'd
The field of Golgotha and dead men's skulls.
O, if you raise this house against this house,
It will the woefullest division prove
That ever fell upon this cursed earth.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 150Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so,
Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe!
NORTHUMBERLANDWell have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 155To keep him safely till his day of trial.
May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEFetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender; so we shall proceed
Without suspicion.
DUKE OF YORKAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 160I will be his conduct.
HENRY BOLINGBROKELords, you that here are under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
Little are we beholding to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.
KING RICHARD IIAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 165Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 170To this submission. Yet I well remember
The favours of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, 'all hail!' to me?
So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,
Found truth in all but one: I, in twelve thousand, none.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 175God save the king! Will no man say amen?
Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen.
God save the king! although I be not he;
And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.
To do what service am I sent for hither?
DUKE OF YORKAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 180To 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.
KING RICHARD IIGive me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 185Here cousin:
On this side my hand, and on that side yours.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well
That owes two buckets, filling one another,
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 190The other down, unseen and full of water:
That bucket down and full of tears am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEI thought you had been willing to resign.
KING RICHARD IIMy crown I am; but still my griefs are mine:
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 195You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEPart of your cares you give me with your crown.
KING RICHARD IIYour cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
My care is loss of care, by old care done;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 200Your care is gain of care, by new care won:
The cares I give I have, though given away;
They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAre you contented to resign the crown?
KING RICHARD IIAy, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 205Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
Now mark me, how I will undo myself;
I give this heavy weight from off my head
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 210With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duty's rites:
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 215My manors, rents, revenues I forego;
My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny:
God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!
God keep all vows unbroke that swear to thee!
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 220And thou with all pleased, that hast all achieved!
Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit!
God save King Harry, unking'd Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine days!
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 225What more remains?
NORTHUMBERLANDNo more, but that you read
These accusations and these grievous crimes
Committed by your person and your followers
Against the state and profit of this land;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 230That, by confessing them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily deposed.
KING RICHARD IIMust I do so? and must I ravel out
My weaved-up folly? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy offences were upon record,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 235Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
There shouldst thou find one heinous article,
Containing the deposing of a king
And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 240Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven:
Nay, all of you that stand and look upon,
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands
Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 245Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles.
KING RICHARD IIMine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:
And yet salt water blinds them not so much
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 250But they can see a sort of traitors here.
Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
I find myself a traitor with the rest;
For I have given here my soul's consent
To undeck the pompous body of a king;
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 255Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy lord, —
KING RICHARD IINo lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 260No, not that name was given me at the font,
But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself!
O that I were a mockery king of snow,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 265Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good,
An if my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 270That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEGo some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
NORTHUMBERLANDRead o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
KING RICHARD IIFiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell!
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 275Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
NORTHUMBERLANDThe commons will not then be satisfied.
KING RICHARD IIThey shall be satisfied: I'll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 280Give me the glass, and therein will I read.
No deeper wrinkles yet? hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds? O flattering glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 285Thou dost beguile me! Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? was this the face
That, like the sun, did make beholders wink?
Was this the face that faced so many follies,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 290And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face;
For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 295How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThe shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd
The shadow or your face.
KING RICHARD IISay that again.
The shadow of my sorrow! ha! let's see:
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 300'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
And these external manners of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul;
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 305For thy great bounty, that not only givest
Me cause to wail but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 310Name it, fair cousin.
KING RICHARD II'Fair cousin'? I am greater than a king:
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer.
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 315Being so great, I have no need to beg.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEYet ask.
KING RICHARD IIAnd shall I have?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEYou shall.
KING RICHARD IIThen give me leave to go.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 320Whither?
KING RICHARD IIWhither you will, so I were from your sights.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEGo, some of you convey him to the Tower.
KING RICHARD IIO, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 325On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
AbbotA woeful pageant have we here beheld.
BISHOP OF CARLISLEThe woe's to come; the children yet unborn.
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 4 Sc 1 Ln 330You holy clergymen, is there no plot
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
AbbotMy lord,
Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 335To bury mine intents, but also to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise.
I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow and your eyes of tears:
Come home with me to supper; and I'll lay
Act 4 Sc 1 Ln 340A plot shall show us all a merry day.

ACT V

SCENE I. London. A street leading to the Tower.

QUEENThis way the king will come; this is the way
To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,
To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke:
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 5Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
Have any resting for her true king's queen.
But soft, but see, or rather do not see,
My fair rose wither: yet look up, behold,
That you in pity may dissolve to dew,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 10And wash him fresh again with true-love tears.
Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand,
Thou map of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
And not King Richard; thou most beauteous inn,
Why should hard-favour'd grief be lodged in thee,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 15When triumph is become an alehouse guest?
KING RICHARD IIJoin not with grief, fair woman, do not so,
To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul,
To think our former state a happy dream;
From which awaked, the truth of what we are
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 20Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim Necessity, and he and I
Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France
And cloister thee in some religious house:
Our holy lives must win a new world's crown,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 25Which our profane hours here have stricken down.
QUEENWhat, is my Richard both in shape and mind
Transform'd and weaken'd? hath Bolingbroke deposed
Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 30And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod,
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion and a king of beasts?
KING RICHARD IIAct 5 Sc 1 Ln 35A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts,
I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:
Think I am dead and that even here thou takest,
As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 40In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire
With good old folks and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages long ago betid;
And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs,
Tell thou the lamentable tale of me
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 45And send the hearers weeping to their beds:
For why, the senseless brands will sympathize
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue
And in compassion weep the fire out;
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 50For the deposing of a rightful king.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed:
You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.
KING RICHARD IIAct 5 Sc 1 Ln 55Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal
The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is ere foul sin gathering head
Shalt break into corruption: thou shalt think,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 60Though he divide the realm and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all;
And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urged, another way
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 65To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
The love of wicked men converts to fear;
That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both
To worthy danger and deserved death.
NORTHUMBERLANDMy guilt be on my head, and there an end.
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 70Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith.
KING RICHARD IIDoubly divorced! Bad men, you violate
A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me,
And then betwixt me and my married wife.
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 75And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.
Part us, Northumberland; I toward the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
My wife to France: from whence, set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 80Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day.
QUEENAnd must we be divided? must we part?
KING RICHARD IIAy, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
QUEENBanish us both and send the king with me.
NORTHUMBERLANDThat were some love but little policy.
QUEENAct 5 Sc 1 Ln 85Then whither he goes, thither let me go.
KING RICHARD IISo two, together weeping, make one woe.
Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.
Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
QUEENAct 5 Sc 1 Ln 90So longest way shall have the longest moans.
KING RICHARD IITwice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief;
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 95One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;
Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
QUEENGive me mine own again; 'twere no good part
To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
Act 5 Sc 1 Ln 100That I might strive to kill it with a groan.
KING RICHARD IIWe make woe wanton with this fond delay:
Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.

ACT V

SCENE II. The DUKE OF YORK's palace.

DUCHESS OF YORKMy lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
When weeping made you break the story off,
of our two cousins coming into London.
DUKE OF YORKWhere did I leave?
DUCHESS OF YORKAct 5 Sc 2 Ln 5At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude misgovern'd hands from windows' tops
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
DUKE OF YORKThen, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 10Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee,
Bolingbroke!'
You would have thought the very windows spake,
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 15So 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!'
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 20Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen:'
And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
DUCHESS OF YORKAlack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst?
DUKE OF YORKAct 5 Sc 2 Ln 25As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced 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
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 30Did scowl on gentle 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,
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 35The 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,
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 40To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now,
Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
DUCHESS OF YORKHere comes my son Aumerle.
DUKE OF YORKAumerle that was;
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 45But 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.
DUCHESS OF YORKWelcome, my son: who are the violets now
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 50That strew the green lap of the new come spring?
DUKE OF AUMERLEMadam, I know not, nor I greatly care not:
God knows I had as lief be none as one.
DUKE OF YORKWell, bear you well in this new spring of time,
Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 55What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs?
DUKE OF AUMERLEFor aught I know, my lord, they do.
DUKE OF YORKYou will be there, I know.
DUKE OF AUMERLEIf God prevent not, I purpose so.
DUKE OF YORKWhat seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom?
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 60Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing.
DUKE OF AUMERLEMy lord, 'tis nothing.
DUKE OF YORKNo matter, then, who see it;
I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.
DUKE OF AUMERLEI do beseech your grace to pardon me:
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 65It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
DUKE OF YORKWhich for some reasons, sir, I mean to see.
I fear, I fear, —
DUCHESS OF YORKWhat should you fear?
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 70'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day.
DUKE OF YORKBound to himself! what doth he with a bond
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
Boy, let me see the writing.
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 5 Sc 2 Ln 75I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it.
DUKE OF YORKI will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
Treason! foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave!
DUCHESS OF YORKWhat is the matter, my lord?
DUKE OF YORKHo! who is within there?
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 80Saddle my horse.
God for his mercy, what treachery is here!
DUCHESS OF YORKWhy, what is it, my lord?
DUKE OF YORKGive me my boots, I say; saddle my horse.
Now, by mine honour, by my life, by my troth,
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 85I will appeach the villain.
DUCHESS OF YORKWhat is the matter?
DUKE OF YORKPeace, foolish woman.
DUCHESS OF YORKI will not peace. What is the matter, Aumerle.
DUKE OF AUMERLEGood mother, be content; it is no more
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 90Than my poor life must answer.
DUCHESS OF YORKThy life answer!
DUKE OF YORKBring me my boots: I will unto the king.
DUCHESS OF YORKStrike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amazed.
Hence, villain! never more come in my sight.
DUKE OF YORKAct 5 Sc 2 Ln 95Give me my boots, I say.
DUCHESS OF YORKWhy, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own?
Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 100And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
And rob me of a happy mother's name?
Is he not like thee? is he not thine own?
DUKE OF YORKThou fond mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 105A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
And interchangeably set down their hands,
To kill the king at Oxford.
DUCHESS OF YORKHe shall be none;
We'll keep him here: then what is that to him?
DUKE OF YORKAct 5 Sc 2 Ln 110Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son,
I would appeach him.
DUCHESS OF YORKHadst thou groan'd for him
As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful.
But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 115That I have been disloyal to thy bed,
And that he is a bastard, not thy son:
Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind:
He is as like thee as a man may be,
Not like to me, or any of my kin,
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 120And yet I love him.
DUKE OF YORKMake way, unruly woman!
DUCHESS OF YORKAfter, Aumerle! mount thee upon his horse;
Spur post, and get before him to the king,
And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
Act 5 Sc 2 Ln 125I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as York:
And never will I rise up from the ground
Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee. Away, be gone!

ACT V

SCENE III. A royal palace.

HENRY BOLINGBROKECan no man tell me of my unthrifty son?
'Tis full three months since I did see him last;
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to God, my lords, he might be found:
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 5Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose companions,
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 10Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
Takes on the point of honour to support
So dissolute a crew.
HENRY PERCYMy lord, some two days since I saw the prince,
And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 15And what said the gallant?
HENRY PERCYHis answer was, he would unto the stews,
And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
And wear it as a favour; and with that
He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 20As dissolute as desperate; yet through both
I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years
May happily bring forth. But who comes here?
DUKE OF AUMERLEWhere is the king?
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWhat means our cousin, that he stares and looks
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 25So wildly?
DUKE OF AUMERLEGod save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,
To have some conference with your grace alone.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWithdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
What is the matter with our cousin now?
DUKE OF AUMERLEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 30For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth
Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEIntended or committed was this fault?
If on the first, how heinous e'er it be,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 35To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
DUKE OF AUMERLEThen give me leave that I may turn the key,
That no man enter till my tale be done.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEHave thy desire.
DUKE OF YORK My liege, beware; look to thyself;
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 40Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEVillain, I'll make thee safe.
DUKE OF AUMERLEStay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear.
DUKE OF YORK Open the door, secure, foolhardy king:
Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 45Open the door, or I will break it open.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWhat is the matter, uncle? speak;
Recover breath; tell us how near is danger,
That we may arm us to encounter it.
DUKE OF YORKPeruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 50The treason that my haste forbids me show.
DUKE OF AUMERLERemember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd:
I do repent me; read not my name there
My heart is not confederate with my hand.
DUKE OF YORKIt was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 55I 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.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEO heinous, strong and bold conspiracy!
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 60O loyal father of a treacherous son!
Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain,
From when this stream through muddy passages
Hath held his current and defiled himself!
Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 65And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
DUKE OF YORKSo shall my virtue be his vice's bawd;
And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 70Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
Or my shamed 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.
DUCHESS OF YORK What ho, my liege! for God's sake,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 75let me in.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWhat shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
DUCHESS OF YORKA woman, and thy aunt, great king; 'tis I.
Speak with me, pity me, open the door.
A beggar begs that never begg'd before.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 80Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King.'
My dangerous cousin, let your mother in:
I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
DUKE OF YORKIf thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 85More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound;
This let alone will all the rest confound.
DUCHESS OF YORKO king, believe not this hard-hearted man!
Love loving not itself none other can.
DUKE OF YORKAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 90Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear?
DUCHESS OF YORKSweet York, be patient. Hear me, gentle liege.
HENRY BOLINGBROKERise up, good aunt.
DUCHESS OF YORKNot yet, I thee beseech:
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 95For ever will I walk upon my knees,
And never see day that the happy sees,
Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
DUKE OF AUMERLEUnto my mother's prayers I bend my knee.
DUKE OF YORKAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 100Against them both my true joints bended be.
Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
DUCHESS OF YORKPleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast:
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 105He prays but faintly and would be denied;
We pray with heart and soul and all beside:
His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow:
His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 110Ours of true zeal and deep integrity.
Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEGood aunt, stand up.
DUCHESS OF YORKNay, do not say, 'stand up;'
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 115Say, 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.'
And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.
I never long'd to hear a word till now;
Say 'pardon,' king; let pity teach thee how:
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 120The word is short, but not so short as sweet;
No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.
DUKE OF YORKSpeak it in French, king; say, 'pardonne moi.'
DUCHESS OF YORKDost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 125That set'st the word itself against the word!
Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
The chopping French we do not understand.
Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there;
Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 130That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce,
Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEGood aunt, stand up.
DUCHESS OF YORKI do not sue to stand;
Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 135I pardon him, as God shall pardon me.
DUCHESS OF YORKO happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;
Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,
But makes one pardon strong.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEAct 5 Sc 3 Ln 140With all my heart
I pardon him.
DUCHESS OF YORKA god on earth thou art.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEBut for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot,
With all the rest of that consorted crew,
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 145Destruction 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 have them, if I once know where.
Act 5 Sc 3 Ln 150Uncle, farewell: and, cousin too, adieu:
Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.
DUCHESS OF YORKCome, my old son: I pray God make thee new.

ACT V

SCENE IV. The same.

EXTONDidst thou not mark the king, what words he spake,
'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'
Was it not so?
ServantThese were his very words.
EXTONAct 5 Sc 4 Ln 5'Have I no friend?' quoth he: he spake it twice,
And urged it twice together, did he not?
ServantHe did.
EXTONAnd speaking it, he wistly look'd on me,
And who should say, 'I would thou wert the man'
Act 5 Sc 4 Ln 10That would divorce this terror from my heart;'
Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go:
I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.

ACT V

SCENE V. Pomfret castle.

KING RICHARD III have been studying how I may compare
This prison where I live unto the world:
And for because the world is populous
And here is not a creature but myself,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 5I cannot 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,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 10In 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 word:
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 15As thus, 'Come, little ones,' and then again,
'It is as hard to come as for a camel
To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.'
Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 20May 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,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 25Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame,
That many have and others must sit there;
And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 30Of such as have before endured the like.
Thus play I in one person many people,
And none contented: sometimes am I king;
Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
And so I am: then crushing penury
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 35Persuades me I was better when a king;
Then am I king'd again: and by and by
Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be,
Nor I nor any man that but man is
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 40With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
With being nothing. Music do I hear?
Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is,
When time is broke and no proportion kept!
So is it in the music of men's lives.
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 45And here have I the daintiness of ear
To cheque time broke in a disorder'd string;
But for the concord of my state and time
Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 50For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar
Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 55Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart,
Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
Show minutes, times, and hours: but my time
Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 60While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
This music mads me; let it sound no more;
For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 65For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.
GroomHail, royal prince!
KING RICHARD IIThanks, noble peer;
The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 70What art thou? and how comest thou hither,
Where no man never comes but that sad dog
That brings me food to make misfortune live?
GroomI was a poor groom of thy stable, king,
When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 75With much ado at length have gotten leave
To look upon my sometimes royal master's face.
O, how it yearn'd my heart when I beheld
In London streets, that coronation-day,
When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 80That horse that thou so often hast bestrid,
That horse that I so carefully have dress'd!
KING RICHARD IIRode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
How went he under him?
GroomSo proudly as if he disdain'd the ground.
KING RICHARD IIAct 5 Sc 5 Ln 85So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not stumble? would he not fall down,
Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 90Of that proud man that did usurp his back?
Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
Since thou, created to be awed by man,
Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
And yet I bear a burthen like an ass,
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 95Spurr'd, gall'd and tired by jouncing Bolingbroke.
KeeperFellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
KING RICHARD IIIf thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
GroomWhat my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.
KeeperMy lord, will't please you to fall to?
KING RICHARD IIAct 5 Sc 5 Ln 100Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.
KeeperMy lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, who
lately came from the king, commands the contrary.
KING RICHARD IIThe devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee!
Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
KeeperAct 5 Sc 5 Ln 105Help, help, help!
KING RICHARD IIHow now! what means death in this rude assault?
Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 110That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
EXTONAs full of valour as of royal blood:
Act 5 Sc 5 Ln 115Both have I spill'd; O would the deed were good!
For now the devil, that told me I did well,
Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.
This dead king to the living king I'll bear
Take hence the rest, and give them burial here.

ACT V

SCENE VI. Windsor castle.

HENRY BOLINGBROKEKind uncle York, the latest news we hear
Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 5Welcome, my lord what is the news?
NORTHUMBERLANDFirst, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
The next news is, I have to London sent
The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 10At large discoursed in this paper here.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEWe thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.
LORD FITZWATERMy lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely,
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 15Two of the dangerous consorted traitors
That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.
HENRY PERCYThe grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 20With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
But here is Carlisle living, to abide
Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride.
HENRY BOLINGBROKECarlisle, this is your doom:
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 25Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
For though mine enemy thou hast ever been,
High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.
EXTONAct 5 Sc 6 Ln 30Great king, within this coffin I present
Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies,
Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEExton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 35A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
Upon my head and all this famous land.
EXTONFrom your own mouth, my lord, did I this deed.
HENRY BOLINGBROKEThey love not poison that do poison need,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 40I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word nor princely favour:
With Cain go wander through shades of night,
And never show thy head by day nor light.
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 45Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
Come, mourn with me for that I do lament,
And put on sullen black incontinent:
I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
Act 5 Sc 6 Ln 50To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
In weeping after this untimely bier.