For I have given here my soul's consent
T'undeck245 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 haught249 insulting man,
No, nor no man's lord.-- I have no name, no title;
No, not that name was given me at the font251,
But 'tis usurped. 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 mockery255 king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bullingbrook,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king -- and yet not greatly good --
An if259 my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what261 a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his262 majesty.
BULLINGBROOK Go some263 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!
BULLINGBROOK 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.
Enter one, with a glass
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
Takes the mirror
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 beguile276 me! Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep278 ten thousand men? Was this the face
That like the sun did make beholders wink279?
Is this the face which faced280 so many follies,
That was at last out-faced281 by Bullingbrook?
A brittle glory shineth in this face,
As brittle as the glory is the face.
Throws the mirror down against the ground
For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers284.
Mark, silent king, the moral285 of this sport,
How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face.
BULLINGBROOK The shadow287 of your sorrow hath destroyed
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 manner292 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,
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 boon298,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
BULLINGBROOK 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 to305 my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg.
BULLINGBROOK Yet ask.
KING RICHARD And shall I have?
BULLINGBROOK You shall.
KING RICHARD Then give me leave to go.
BULLINGBROOK Whither?
KING RICHARD Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
BULLINGBROOK Go, some of you convey313 him to the Tower.
KING RICHARD O, good! 'Convey'? Conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
[Exeunt Richard, some Lords and a Guard]
BULLINGBROOK On Wednesday next we solemnly set down316
Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.
Exeunt [all except Carlisle, the Abbot 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 pernicious322 blot?
ABBOT Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament324
To bury325 mine intents, but also to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise.
I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your heart of sorrow and your eyes of tears.
Come home with me to supper. I'll lay
A plot shall show us all a merry day.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 1
running scene 14
Location: London, near the Tower
Enter Queen and Ladies
QUEEN This way the king will come. This is the way
To Julius Caesar's2 ill-erected tower,
To whose flint3 bosom my condemned lord
Is doomed4 a prisoner by proud Bullingbrook.
Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
Have any resting for her true king's queen.
Enter 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 model11 where old Troy did stand,
Thou map12 of honour, thou King Richard's tomb,
And not King Richard. Thou most beauteous inn13,
Why should hard-favoured14 grief be lodged in thee,
When triumph is become an ale-house15 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 state18 a happy dream;
From which awaked, the truth of what we are
Shows us but this. I am sworn brother20, sweet,
To grim Necessity, and he and I
Will keep a league22 till death. Hie thee to France
And cloister23 thee in some religious house.
Our holy lives must win a new world's24 crown,
Which our profane hours here have stricken down.
QUEEN What, is my Richard both in shape26 and mind
Transformed and weakened? Hath Bullingbrook deposed
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 be31 o'erpowered. And wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod32,
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion and a king of beasts?
KING RICHARD A king of beasts35, indeed. If aught but beasts,
I had been still36 a happy king of men.
Good sometime37 queen, prepare thee hence for France:
Think I am dead and that even here thou tak'st,
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 betid42.
And ere thou bid good night, to quit43 their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me
And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why46 the senseless brands will sympathize
The heavy accent47 of thy moving tongue
And
in compassion weep48 the fire out,
And some49 will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.
Enter Northumberland [and others]
NORTHUMBERLAND My lord, the mind of Bullingbrook is changed.
You must to Pomfret52, not unto the Tower.--
And, madam, there is order ta'en53 for you:
To the Queen
With all swift speed you must away to France.
KING RICHARD Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal55
The mounting Bullingbrook ascends my throne,
The time shall not be many hours of age57
More than it is ere foul sin, gathering head58,
Shall break into corruption59. Thou shalt think,
Though he60 divide the realm and give thee half,
It is too little, helping61 him to all.
He shall think that thou, which62 know'st the way
To plant unrightful63 kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urged, another way
To pluck him headlong from th'usurped throne.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear;
That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both67
To worthy68 danger and deserved death.
NORTHUMBERLAND My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
Take leave and part70, for you must part forthwith.
KING RICHARD Doubly divorced? Bad men, ye violate
A twofold marriage, 'twixt72 my crown and me
And then betwixt me and my married wife.--
Let me unkiss74 the oath 'twixt thee and me;
To Queen
And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made.--
Part us, Northumberland. I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines77 the clime.
My queen to France, from whence78, set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas80 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 were84 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, near88, 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 out92 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 stop95 our mouths, and dumbly part;
They kiss
Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
QUEEN Give me mine own again. 'Twere no good part
To take on me97 to keep and kill98 thy heart.
They kiss
So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
That I may strive to kill it with a groan.
KING RICHARD We make woe wanton101 with this fond delay.
Once more, adieu102; the rest let sorrow say.
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 2
running scene 15
Location: the Duke of York's house
Enter York and his Duchess
DUCHESS OF YORK My lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
When weeping made you break the story off,
Of our two cousins3 coming into London.
YORK Where did I leave4?
DUCHESS OF YORK At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude6 misgoverned hands from windows' tops
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
YORK Then, as I said, the duke, great Bullingbrook,
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed
Which10 his aspiring rider seemed to know,
With slow but stately pace kept on his course,
While all tongues cried 'God save thee, Bullingbrook!'
You would have thought the very windows spake,
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements15 darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage, and that all the walls
With painted imagery17 had said at once
'Jesu preserve thee! Welcome, Bullingbrook!'
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bareheaded20, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake21 them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen',
And thus still22 doing, thus he passed along.
DUCHESS OF YORK Alas, poor Richard! Where rides he the whilst23?
YORK As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-graced25 actor leaves the stage,
Are idly26 bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious,
Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard. No man cried 'God save him',
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home,
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head,
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His face still combating with33 tears and smiles,
The badges34 of his grief and patience,
That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled
The hearts of men, they must perforce36 have melted
And barbarism itself have pitied him.
But heaven hath a hand in these events,
To whose high will we bound39 our calm contents.
To Bullingbrook are we sworn subjects now,
Whose state41 and honour I for aye allow.
Enter Aumerle
DUCHESS OF YORK Here comes my son Aumerle.
YORK Aumerle that was,
But that is lost for being Richard's friend.
And, madam, you must call him Rutland45 now.
I am in parliament pledge for his truth46
And lasting fealty47 to the new-made king.
DUCHESS OF YORK Welcome, my son. Who are the violets48 now
That strew the green lap of the new come spring49?
AUMERLE Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not.
God knows I had as lief51 be none as one.
YORK Well, bear you52 well in this new spring of time,
Lest you be cropped53 before you come to prime.
What news from Oxford? Hold54 those jousts and triumphs?
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 seal58 is that, that hangs without thy bosom?
Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the writing.
AUMERLE My lord, 'tis nothing.
YORK No matter, then, who sees 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 OF YORK What should you fear?
'Tis nothing but some bond69 that he is entered into
For gay apparel against70 the triumph.
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.
Snatches it
Treason, foul treason! Villain, traitor, slave!
DUCHESS OF YORK What's the matter, my lord?
YORK Ho!
Who's within there?
[Enter a Servant]
Saddle my horse.
Heaven for his mercy, what treachery is here!
DUCHESS OF YORK Why, what is't, my lord?
YORK Give me my boots, I say. Saddle my horse.--
[Exit Servant]
Now, by my honour, my life, my troth,
I will appeach84 the villain.
DUCHESS OF YORK What is the matter?
YORK Peace, foolish woman.
DUCHESS OF YORK I will not peace. What is the matter, son?
AUMERLE Good mother, be content. It is no more
Than my poor life must answer89.
DUCHESS OF YORK Thy life answer?
Enter Servant with boots
YORK Bring me my boots. I will unto the king.
DUCHESS OF YORK Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amazed92.--
Hence, villain93! Never more come in my sight.
To Servant
YORK Give me my boots, I say.
DUCHESS OF YORK Why, York, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own96?
Have we more sons? Or are we like to have?
Is not my teeming date98 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 fond102 mad woman,
Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
And interchangeably105 set down their hands,
To kill the king at Oxford.
DUCHESS OF YORK He shall be none107.
We'll keep him here. Then what is that108 to him?
YORK Away, fond woman! Were he twenty times my son,
I would appeach him.
DUCHESS OF YORK Hadst thou groaned111 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, nor any of my kin,
And yet I love him.
YORK Make way, unruly woman!
Exit
DUCHESS OF YORK After, Aumerle! Mount thee upon his horse121.
Spur post122, 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 ground126
Till Bullingbrook have pardoned thee. Away, begone!
Exeunt
Act 5 Scene 3
running scene 16
Location: the royal court
Enter Bullingbrook, Percy and other Lords
BULLINGBROOK Can no man tell of my unthrifty1 son?
'Tis full three months since I did see him last.
If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
I would to heaven, my lords, he might be found.
Enquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
For there, they say, he daily doth frequent,
With unrestrained loose7 companions,
Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
And rob our watch9, and beat our passengers,
Which he, young wanton and effeminate10 boy,
Takes on the11 point of honour to support