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CAPTAIN. My 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. SALISBURY. Stay 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; The pale-fac'd 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. These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. Farewell. Our countrymen are gone and fled, As well assur'd Richard their King is dead. Exit SALISBURY. Ah, Richard, with the eyes of heavy mind, I see thy glory like a shooting star Fall to the base earth from the firmament! The 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. Exit

Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, ROSS, WILLOUGHBY, BUSHY and GREEN, prisoners

SCENE 2. The coast of Wales. A castle in view

Drums. Flourish and colours. Enter the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, and soldiers

KING RICHARD. Barkloughly Castle can they this at hand? AUMERLE. Yea, my lord. How brooks your Grace the air After your late tossing on the breaking seas? KING RICHARD. Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy To stand upon my kingdom once again. Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs. As a long-parted mother with her child Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting, So 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, And 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, Guard 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 Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms. CARLISLE. Fear 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 embrac'd And not neglected; else, if heaven would, And we will not, heaven's offer we refuse, The proffered means of succour and redress. AUMERLE. He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security, Grows strong and great in substance and in power. KING RICHARD. Discomfortable 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 In 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, The 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 wand'ring with the Antipodes, Shall 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 Can 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, God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight, Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.

Enter SALISBURY

Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power? SALISBURY. Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, Than 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, And 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, dispers'd, and fled. AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege, why looks your Grace so pale? KING RICHARD. But 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? All souls that will be safe, fly from my side; For time hath set a blot upon my pride. AUMERLE. Comfort, my liege; remember who you are. KING RICHARD. I had forgot myself; am I not King? Awake, thou coward majesty! thou sleepest. Is 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 Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?

Enter SCROOP

SCENE 3. Wales. Before Flint Castle

Enter, with drum and colours, BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, and forces

BOLINGBROKE. So that by this intelligence we learn The Welshmen are dispers'd; and Salisbury Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed With some few private friends upon this coast. NORTHUMBERLAND. The news is very fair and good, my lord. Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. YORK. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland To say 'King Richard.' Alack the heavy day When such a sacred king should hide his head! NORTHUMBERLAND. Your Grace mistakes; only to be brief, Left I his title out. YORK. The time hath been, Would you have been so brief with him, he would Have been so brief with you to shorten you, For taking so the head, your whole head's length. BOLINGBROKE. Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. YORK. Take not, good cousin, further than you should, Lest you mistake. The heavens are over our heads. BOLINGBROKE. I know it, uncle; and oppose not myself Against their will. But who comes here?

Enter PERCY

Welcome, Harry. What, will not this castle yield? PIERCY. The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, Against thy entrance. BOLINGBROKE. Royally! Why, it contains no king? PERCY. Yes, 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, Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn. NORTHUMBERLAND. O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. BOLINGBROKE. Noble lord, Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle; Through 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 To his most royal person; hither come Even at his feet to lay my arms and power, Provided that my banishment repeal'd And lands restor'd again be freely granted; If not, I'll use the advantage of my power And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood Rain'd from the wounds of slaughtered 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, My 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 threat'ning drum, That from this castle's tottered battlements Our fair appointments may be well perus'd. Methinks King Richard and myself should meet With no less terror than the elements Of fire and water, when their thund'ring shock At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven. Be 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.

Parle without, and answer within; then a flourish. Enter on the walls, the KING, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, AUMERLE, SCROOP, and SALISBURY

See, see, King Richard doth himself appear, As 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. YORK. Yet he looks 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. We are amaz'd; and thus long have we stood To 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 That hath dismiss'd 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, Have 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 Your children yet unborn and unbegot, That lift your vassal hands against my head And threat the glory of my precious crown. Tell Bolingbroke, for yon methinks he stands, That every stride he makes upon my land Is 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, Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace To scarlet indignation, and bedew Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood. NORTHUMBERLAND. The King of Heaven forbid our lord the King Should so with civil and uncivil arms Be 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, Currents 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 Than 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 To 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. Northumberland, say thus the King returns: His noble cousin is right welcome hither; And 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, To look so poorly and to speak so fair? Shall we call back Northumberland, and send Defiance to the traitor, and so die? AUMERLE. No, good my lord; let's fight with gentle words Till time lend friends, and friends their helpful swords. KING RICHARD. O 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! Or 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. AUMERLE. Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke. KING RICHARD. What must the King do now? Must he submit? The King shall do it. Must he be depos'd? The King shall be contented. Must he lose The name of king? A God's name, let it go. I'll give my jewels for a set of beads, My gorgeous palace for a hermitage, My gay apparel for an almsman's gown, My figur'd goblets for a dish of wood, My sceptre for a palmer's walking staff, My subjects for a pair of carved saints, And my large kingdom for a little grave, A little little grave, an obscure grave- Or I'll be buried in the king's high way, Some way of common trade, where subjects' feet May hourly trample on their sovereign's head; For 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 And 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 Within 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, What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty Give Richard leave to live till Richard die? You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay. NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, in the base court he doth attend To speak with you; may it please you to come down? KING RICHARD. Down, down I come, like glist'ring 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! down, king! For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing. Exeunt from above BOLINGBROKE. What says his Majesty? NORTHUMBERLAND. Sorrow and grief of heart Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man; Yet he is come.

Enter the KING, and his attendants, below

BOLINGBROKE. Stand all apart, And show fair duty to his Majesty. My gracious lord- KING RICHARD. Fair 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 unpleas'd eye see your courtesy. Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know, Thus high at least, although your knee be low. BOLINGBROKE. My gracious lord, I come but for mine own. KING RICHARD. Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all. BOLINGBROKE. So far be mine, my most redoubted lord, As my true service shall deserve your love. KING RICHARD. Well 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, Though 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? BOLINGBROKE. Yea, my good lord. KING RICHARD. Then I must not say no. Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE 4. The DUKE OF YORK's garden

Enter the QUEEN and two LADIES

QUEEN. What sport shall we devise here in this garden To drive away the heavy thought of care? LADY. Madam, we'll play at bowls. QUEEN. 'Twill make me think the world is full of rubs And that my fortune runs against the bias. LADY. Madam, we'll dance. QUEEN. My legs can keep no measure in delight, When my poor heart no measure keeps in grief; Therefore no dancing, girl; some other sport. LADY. Madam, we'll tell tales. QUEEN. Of sorrow or of joy? LADY. Of either, madam. QUEEN. Of neither, girl; For if of joy, being altogether wanting, It 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. LADY. Madam, I'll sing. QUEEN. 'Tis well' that thou hast cause; But thou shouldst please me better wouldst thou weep. LADY. I could weep, madam, would it do you good. QUEEN. And I could sing, would weeping do me good, And never borrow any tear of thee.

Enter a GARDENER and two SERVANTS

But stay, here come the gardeners. Let's step into the shadow of these trees. My wretchedness unto a row of pins, They will talk of state, for every one doth so Against a change: woe is forerun with woe. GARDENER. Go, 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. Go thou, and Eke 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 The noisome weeds which without profit suck The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers. SERVANT. Why should we, in the compass of a pale, Keep law and form and due proportion, Showing, as in a model, our firm estate, When our sea-walled garden, the whole land, Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers chok'd up, Her fruit trees all unprun'd, her hedges ruin'd, Her knots disordered, and her wholesome herbs Swarming with caterpillars? GARDENER. Hold 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, Are pluck'd up root and all by Bolingbroke- I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green. SERVANT. What, are they dead? GARDENER. They are; and Bolingbroke Hath seiz'd the wasteful King. O, what pity is it That he had not so trimm'd and dress'd his land As we this garden! We at time of year Do wound the bark, the skin of our fruit trees, Lest, being over-proud in sap and blood, With too much riches it confound itself; Had he done so to great and growing men, They might have Ev'd 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 home the crown, Which waste of idle hours hath quite thrown down. SERVANT. What, think you the King shall be deposed? GARDENER. Depress'd he is already, and depos'd 'Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night To a dear friend of the good Duke of York's That tell black tidings. QUEEN. O, I am press'd to death through want of speaking! Thou, old Adam's likeness, set to dress this garden, How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this unpleasing news? What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested the To make a second fall of cursed man? Why dost thou say King Richard is depos'd? Dar'st thou, thou little better thing than earth, Divine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how, Cam'st thou by this ill tidings? Speak, thou wretch. GARDENER. Pardon me, madam; little joy have To breathe this news; yet what I say is true. King Richard, he is in the mighty hold Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weigh'd. In your lord's scale is nothing but himself, And some few vanities that make him light; But in the balance of great Bolingbroke, 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; I speak no more than every one doth know. QUEEN. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foot, Doth not thy embassage belong to me, And am I last that knows it? O, thou thinkest To serve me last, that I may longest keep Thy 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? Gard'ner, for telling me these news of woe, Pray God the plants thou graft'st may never grow! Exeunt QUEEN and LADIES GARDENER. Poor 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. Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen, In the remembrance of a weeping queen. Exeunt

Enter, as to the Parliament, BOLINGBROKE, AUMERLE, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, FITZWATER, SURREY, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, and others; HERALD, OFFICERS, and BAGOT

Enter YORK, attended

YORK. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to the From plume-pluck'd Richard, who with willing soul Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields To the possession of thy royal hand. Ascend his throne, descending now from him- And long live Henry, fourth of that name! BOLINGBROKE. In God's name, I'll ascend the regal throne. CARLISLE. Marry, 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 Were 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? Thieves are not judg'd 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, Be judg'd by subject and inferior breath, And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God, That in a Christian climate souls refin'd Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed! I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks, Stirr'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, And 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, Shall 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. Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so, Lest child, child's children, cry against you woe. NORTHUMBERLAND. Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains, Of capital treason we arrest you here. My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge To keep him safely till his day of trial. May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit? BOLINGBROKE. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view He may surrender; so we shall proceed Without suspicion. YORK. I will be his conduct. Exit BOLINGBROKE. Lords, 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.

Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and OFFICERS bearing the regalia

KING RICHARD. Alack, 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 knee. Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me To 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. God 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? YORK. To do that office of thine own good will Which tired majesty did make thee offer- The resignation of thy state and crown To Henry Bolingbroke. KING RICHARD. Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown. Here, cousin, On this side my hand, and on that side thine. Now is this golden crown like a deep well That owes two buckets, filling one another; The emptier ever dancing in the air, The other down, unseen, and full of water. That bucket down and fun of tears am I, Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high. BOLINGBROKE. I thought you had been willing to resign. KING RICHARD. My crown I am; but still my griefs are mine. You may my glories and my state depose, But not my griefs; still am I king of those. BOLINGBROKE. Part of your cares you give me with your crown. KING RICHARD. Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down. My care is loss of care, by old care done; Your 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. BOLINGBROKE. Are you contented to resign the crown? KING RICHARD. Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be; Therefore 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; With 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 duteous oaths; All pomp and majesty I do forswear; My manors, rents, revenues, I forgo; My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny. God pardon all oaths that are broke to me! God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee! Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd, And thou with all pleas'd, that hast an achiev'd. Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit, And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit. God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says, And send him many years of sunshine days! What more remains? NORTHUMBERLAND. No 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; That, by confessing them, the souls of men May deem that you are worthily depos'd. KING RICHARD. Must I do so? And must I ravel out My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland, If thy offences were upon record, Would 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, Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven. Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself, Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands, Showing an outward pity-yet you Pilates Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross, And water cannot wash away your sin. NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles. KING RICHARD. Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see. And yet salt water blinds them not so much But 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 T'undeck the pompous body of a king; Made glory base, and sovereignty a slave, Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant. NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord- KING RICHARD. No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man, Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no tide- No, 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, Standing 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, That it may show me what a face I have Since it is bankrupt of his majesty. BOLINGBROKE. Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass. Exit an attendant NORTHUMBERLAND. Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. KING RICHARD. Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell. BOLINGBROKE. Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. NORTHUMBERLAND. The Commons will not, then, be satisfied. KING RICHARD. They 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.

Re-enter attendant with glass

Give me that 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 flatt'ring glass, Like to my followers in prosperity, Thou 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? Is this the face which fac'd so many follies That was at last out-fac'd 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- How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. BOLINGBROKE. The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow of your face. KING RICHARD. Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow? Ha! let's see. 'Tis very true: my grief lies all within; And these external manner of laments Are merely shadows to the unseen grief That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul. There lies the substance; and I thank thee, king, For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st 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? BOLINGBROKE. Name it, fair cousin. KING RICHARD. 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. Being so great, I have no need to beg. BOLINGBROKE. Yet ask. KING RICHARD. And shall I have? BOLINGBROKE. You shall. KING RICHARD. Then give me leave to go. BOLINGBROKE. Whither? KING RICHARD. Whither you will, so I were from your sights. BOLINGBROKE. Go, some of you convey him to the Tower. KING RICHARD. O, good! Convey! Conveyers are you all, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. Exeunt KING RICHARD, some Lords and a Guard BOLINGBROKE. On Wednesday next we solemnly set down Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves. Exeunt all but the ABBOT OF WESTMINSTER, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, and AUMERLE ABBOT. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. CARLISLE. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. AUMERLE. You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? ABBOT. My lord, Before I freely speak my mind herein, You shall not only take the sacrament To 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; I will lay A plot shall show us all a merry day. Exeunt

Enter the QUEEN, with her attendants

QUEEN. This 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. Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth Have any resting for her true King's queen.

Enter KING RICHARD and Guard

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, And 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 lodg'd in thee, When triumph is become an alehouse guest? KING RICHARD. Join 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 awak'd, the truth of what we are Shows us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet, To grim Necessity; and he and 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, Which our profane hours here have thrown down. QUEEN. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd and weak'ned? Hath Bolingbroke depos'd Thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart? The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o'erpow'r'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, Take the correction mildly, kiss the rod, And fawn on rage with base humility, Which art a lion and the king of beasts? KING RICHARD. A king of beasts, indeed! If aught but beasts, I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometimes 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. In 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, And 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, For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND attended

NORTHUMBERLAND. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd; 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. Northumberland, 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 Shall break into corruption. Thou shalt think Though he divide the realm and give thee half It is too little, helping him to all; And he shall think that thou, which knowest the way To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again, Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way To 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. NORTHUMBERLAND. My guilt be on my head, and there an end. Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith. KING RICHARD. Doubly divorc'd! 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; And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. Part us, Northumberland; I towards 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, Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. QUEEN. And must we be divided? Must we part? KING RICHARD. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. QUEEN. Banish us both, and send the King with me. NORTHUMBERLAND. That were some love, but little policy. QUEEN. Then whither he goes thither let me go. KING RICHARD. So 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. QUEEN. So longest way shall have the longest moans. KING RICHARD. Twice 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. One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart. QUEEN. Give 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. That I may strive to kill it with a groan. KING RICHARD. We make woe wanton with this fond delay. Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. Exeunt

SCENE 2. The DUKE OF YORK's palace

Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUCHESS

DUCHESS. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest, When weeping made you break the story off, Of our two cousins' coming into London. YORK. Where did I leave? DUCHESS. At that sad stop, my lord, Where rude misgoverned hands from windows' tops Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head. YORK. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bolingbroke, Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know, With slow but stately pace kept on his course, Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bolingbroke!' You would have thought the very windows spake, So many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage; and that all the walls With painted imagery had said at once 'Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bolingbroke!' Whilst he, from 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. Alack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst? YORK. As in a theatre the eyes of men After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage Are idly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be tedious; Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes Did scowl on 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, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, And barbarism itself have pitied him. But heaven hath a hand in these events, To whose high will we bound our calm contents. To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, Whose state and honour I for aye allow. DUCHESS. Here comes my son Aumerle. YORK. Aumerle that was But that is lost for being Richard's friend, And madam, you must call him Rudand now. I am in Parliament pledge for his truth And lasting fealty to the new-made king.

Enter AUMERLE

DUCHESS. Welcome, my son. Who are the violets now That strew the green lap of the new come spring? AUMERLE. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not. God knows I had as lief be none as one. YORK. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? Do these justs and triumphs hold? AUMERLE. For aught I know, my lord, they do. YORK. You will be there, I know. AUMERLE. If God prevent not, I purpose so. YORK. What seal is that that without thy bosom? Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the writing. AUMERLE. My lord, 'tis nothing. YORK. No matter, then, who see it. I will be satisfied; let me see the writing. AUMERLE. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me; It is a matter of small consequence Which for some reasons I would not have seen. YORK. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. I fear, I fear- DUCHESS. What should you fear? 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is ent'red into For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph-day. YORK. Bound to himself! What doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Boy, let me see the writing. AUMERLE. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it. YORK. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say. Treason, foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave! DUCHESS. What is the matter, my lord? YORK. Ho! who is within there?

Enter a servant

Saddle my horse. God for his mercy, what treachery is here! DUCHESS. Why, York, what is it, my lord? YORK. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse. Exit servant Now, by mine honour, by my life, my troth, I will appeach the villain. DUCHESS. What is the matter? YORK. Peace, foolish woman. DUCHESS. I will not peace. What is the matter, Aumerle? AUMERLE. Good mother, be content; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. DUCHESS. Thy life answer! YORK. Bring me my boots. I will unto the King.

His man enters with his boots

DUCHESS. Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amaz'd. Hence, villain! never more come in my sight. YORK. Give me my boots, I say. DUCHESS. Why, 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? And 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? YORK. Thou fond mad woman, Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, And interchangeably set down their hands To kill the King at Oxford. DUCHESS. He shall be none; We'll keep him here. Then what is that to him? YORK. Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son I would appeach him. DUCHESS. Hadst thou groan'd for him As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind: thou dost suspect That 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, And yet I love him. YORK. Make way, unruly woman! Exit DUCHESS. After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse; Spur post, and get before him to the King, And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee. I'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. Exeunt

SCENE 3. Windsor Castle

Enter BOLINGBROKE as King, PERCY, and other LORDS

BOLINGBROKE. Can 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. Inquire 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, Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy, Takes on the point of honour to support So dissolute a crew. PERCY. My lord, some two days since I saw the Prince, And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford. BOLINGBROKE. And what said the gallant? PERCY. His 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. BOLINGBROKE. As dissolute as desperate; yet through both I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years May happily bring forth. But who comes here?

Enter AUMERLE amazed

AUMERLE. Where is the King? BOLINGBROKE. What means our cousin that he stares and looks So wildly? AUMERLE. God save your Grace! I do beseech your Majesty, To have some conference with your Grace alone. BOLINGBROKE. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone. Exeunt PERCY and LORDS What is the matter with our cousin now? AUMERLE. For 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. BOLINGBROKE. Intended or committed was this fault? If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, To win thy after-love I pardon thee. AUMERLE. Then give me leave that I may turn the key, That no man enter till my tale be done. BOLINGBROKE. Have thy desire. YORK. My liege, beware; look to thyself; Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there. BOLINGBROKE. Villain, I'll make thee safe. AUMERLE. Stay thy revengeful hand; thou hast no cause to fear. YORK. Open the door, secure, foolhardy King. Shall I, for love, speak treason to thy face? Open the door, or I will break it open.

Enter YORK

Enter DUCHESS

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