Boling.
Bring forth these men.
Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls—

Since presently your souls must part your bodies—
With too ^note much urging your pernicious lives,
For '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 ^note.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigured clean:
You have in manner with your sinful hours
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
Broke the possession ^note of a royal bed
And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by ^note your foul wrongs.
Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
Near to the king in blood, and near in love
Till you ^note did make him misinterpret me,
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd ^note my English breath in foreign clouds ^note,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment;
Whilst ^note you have fed upon my signories,
Dispark'd my parks and fell'd my forest woods,
From my ^note own windows torn my household coat,
Razed out my imprese ^note, 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 ^note
To execution and the hand of death.

Bushy.
More welcome is the stroke of death to me
Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell ^note.

Green.
My comfort is that heaven will take our souls

And plague injustice with the pains of hell.

Boling.
My Lord Northumberland, see ^note them dispatch'd. [Exeunt ^note Northumberland and others, with the prisoners.
Uncle, you say the queen is at your house;
For God's ^note sake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver'd ^note.

York.
A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
With letters of your love to her at large.

Boling.
Thanks, gentle uncle. Come, lords ^note, away,
To fight with Glendower ^note and his complices ^note:
Awhile to work, and after holiday. [Exeunt. Scene II. The coast of Wales. A castle in view. ^note Drums: flourish and colours. ^note Enter ^note King Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, and Soldiers.

K. Rich.
Barkloughly ^note castle call they ^note this at hand?

Aum.
Yea ^note, my lord ^note. How brooks your grace the air,
After your late ^note tossing on the breaking seas?

K. Rich.
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 ^note her child
Plays fondly with her tears and smiles ^note in meeting ^note,
So, weeping, smiling ^note, greet I thee, my ^note earth,
And do thee favours ^note 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 ^note bosom pluck a flower,
Guard it, I pray thee ^note, 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 ^note arms.

Car.
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 ^note must be embraced,
And not neglected; else, if ^note heaven would,
And we will not ^note, heaven's offer we refuse, ^note
The proffer'd ^note means of succour ^note and redress ^note.

Aum.
He means, my lord, that we are too remiss;
Whilst Bolingbroke, through our ^note security,
Grows strong and great in substance and in power ^note.

K. Rich.
Discomfortable cousin! know'st ^note thou not
That when the searching eye of heaven is hid,
Behind the globe, that ^note lights the lower world ^note,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
In murders and in outrage, boldly ^note here;
But when from under this ^note terrestrial ball
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
And darts his light ^note through every ^note 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 wandering with the antipodes ^note,
Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
His treasons will sit ^note blushing in his face,
Not able to endure the sight of day,
But self-affrighted tremble at his sin ^note.
Not all the water in the rough rude ^{note note} sea
Can wash the balm off from ^note an anointed ^note king;
The breath of worldly ^note men cannot ^note depose
The deputy elected by the Lord:
For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd ^note
To lift shrewd ^note steel against our golden crown,

God ^note for his Richard ^note hath in heavenly pay
A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right. ^note Enter Salisbury.
Welcome, my lord ^note: how far off lies your power?

Sal.
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 ^note, noble lord ^{note note},
Hath clouded all thy ^note happy days on earth:
O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
And thou shalt have twelve thousand ^note fighting men!
To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late,
O'erthrows ^note thy joys, friends ^note, fortune and thy state ^note:
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and ^note fled.

Aum.
Comfort, my liege: why looks your grace so pale?

K. Rich.
But now the blood of twenty thousand ^note 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 ^note?
All souls that will be safe fly from my side,
For time hath set a blot upon my pride.

Aum.
Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.

K. Rich.
I had forgot myself: am I not king?
Awake, thou coward ^note majesty! ^note thou sleepest.
Is not the king's name twenty ^note 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 ^note to serve our turn. But who comes here? ^{note note}Enter Scroop.

Scroop.
More health and happiness betide my liege
Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him!

K. Rich.
Mine ear is open and my heart prepared:
The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
Say, 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:
Revolt our subjects? that we cannot mend;
They break their faith to God as well as us:
Cry woe, destruction, ruin and decay ^note;
The worst is death, and death will have his day.

Scroop.
Glad am I that your highness is so arm'd
To bear the tidings of calamity.
Like an unseasonable stormy day,
Which makes ^note the silver rivers drown their shores ^note,
As if the world were all dissolved to tears,
So high above his limits swells ^note the rage
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
With hard bright steel and hearts harder ^note than steel.
White-beards ^note have arm'd their thin and hairless scalps
Against thy majesty; boys ^note, with women's voices,
Strive to speak big and clap ^note their female ^note joints

In stiff unwieldy arms against ^note thy crown: ^note
Thy ^note very beadsmen learn to bend their bows ^note
Of double-fatal ^note yew ^note against thy state; ^note
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat: ^note both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell.

K. Rich.
Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot ^{note note}?
What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps?
If we prevail, their heads ^note shall pay for it:
I warrant they have ^note made peace with Bolingbroke ^note.

Scroop.
Peace have they ^note made with him indeed, my lord.

K. Rich.
O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
Dogs, easily won ^note 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 ^note!

Scroop.
Sweet love, I see, changing ^note his property,
Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate:
Again uncurse their souls; their peace is made
With heads ^note, and not with hands: those whom you curse

Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound ^note
And lie full low, graved in the hollow ^note ground.

Aum.
Is Bushy, Green and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?

Scroop.
Ay ^note, all of them at Bristol ^note lost their heads.

Aum.
Where is the duke my father with his power?

K. Rich.
No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of graves, of worms and epitaphs;
Make dust our paper and with rainy eyes
Write sorrow on ^note the bosom of the earth.
Let's choose executors and talk of wills:
And yet not so, for what can we bequeath
Save 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 ^note of the barren earth
Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
For God's ^note 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 ^note they have deposed ^note;
Some poison'd by their wives; some sleeping kill'd;
All murder'd: for within the hollow crown
That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Keeps Death his court and there the antique sits,
Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
To 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 ^note pin

Bores through ^note his castle wall ^note, and farewell king!
Cover your heads and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn reverence: ^note throw away respect,
Tradition ^note, form and ceremonious duty,
For you have but mistook me all this while:
I live with bread like you, feel want,
Taste grief, need friends: ^note subjected ^note thus,
How can you say ^note to me, I am a king ^note? ^note

Car.
My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes ^note,
But presently prevent the ways to wail.
To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe,
And so your follies fight against yourself ^note.
Fear, and be slain; no worse can come to fight ^note:
And fight and die is death destroying ^note death;
Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.

Aum.
My father hath a power; inquire of him,
And learn to make a body of a limb ^note.

K. Rich.
Thou chidest me well: proud Bolingbroke, I come
To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
This ague fit of fear is over-blown;
An easy task it is to win our own ^note.
Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?

Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.

Scroop.
Men judge by the complexion of the sky
  The state and inclination of the day:
So may you by my dull and heavy eye,
  My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say ^note.
I play the torturer, by small and small
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken:
Your uncle York is ^note join'd with ^note Bolingbroke,
And all your northern castles yielded up
And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Upon his party ^note.

K. Rich.
Thou hast said enough.
Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth [To Aumerle ^note.
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.
Go 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 ^note go
To ear the land that hath ^note some hope to grow,
For I have none: let no man speak again
To alter this, for counsel is but vain.

Aum.
My liege, one word.

K. Rich.
He does me double wrong
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Discharge my followers: let them hence away ^note,
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's ^note fair day. [Exeunt.

^note Scene III. [Footnote: Wales ^note. Before Flint castle. Enter ^note, with drum and colours, Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Attendants, and forces.

Boling.
So 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.

North.
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 ^note the heavy day
When such a sacred king should hide his head.

North.
Your grace mistakes ^note; only to be brief,
Left I his ^note title out.

York.
The time hath been,
Would you ^note have been so brief with him ^note, he would
Have been so brief with you ^note, to shorten you,
For taking so ^note the head, your ^note whole head's length. ^note

Boling.
Mistake not, uncle, further ^note than you should.

York.
Take not, good cousin, further ^note than you should,
Lest you mistake the ^note heavens are o'er our heads ^note.

Boling.
I know it, uncle, and oppose not ^note myself ^note
Against ^note their will ^note. But who comes here? ^note Enter Percy.
Welcome, ^note Harry: what, will not this castle yield?

Percy.
The castle royally is ^note mann'd, my lord,
Against thy ^note entrance.

Boling.
Royally!
Why, it contains no king? ^note

Percy.
Yes, my good lord,
It doth contain a king; King ^note Richard lies
Within the limits of yon ^note lime and stone:
And with him are the ^note Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman
Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn.

North.
O ^note, belike it is the ^note Bishop of Carlisle.

Boling.
Noble lords ^{note note},
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle;
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley ^note
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver:
Henry Bolingbroke ^{note note}

On both ^note his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand ^note
And sends allegiance and true ^note faith of heart
To his most ^note royal person; hither come ^note
Even at his feet to lay ^note 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
And lay the summer's dust with showers of blood
Rain'd from the wounds of slaughter'd ^note Englishmen:
The which, how far off from the mind of Bolingbroke ^note
It is, such crimson tempest should bedrench ^note
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. ^note
Let's march without the noise of threatening drum,
That from this ^note castle's tatter'd ^note battlements
Our 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 ^note
At meeting tears the cloudy cheeks of heaven.
Be he the fire, I'll be the yielding water:
The rage be his, whilst ^note on the earth I rain ^note
My waters; on ^note the earth, and not on him. ^note
March on, and mark King Richard how he looks.

Parle ^note without, and answer within. Then a flourish. Enter on the walls, King Richard, the Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, Scroop, and Salisbury. ^note
See ^note, 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 ^note
Of his bright passage to the occident.

York.
Yet looks he like a king: behold, his eye,
As bright as is the eagle's, lightens forth
Controlling majesty: alack, alack ^note, for woe,
That any harm ^note should stain so fair a show!

K. Rich.
We are amazed; and thus long have we stood
To watch the fearful ^note bending of thy knee, [To North. ^note
Because we thought ourself thy ^note lawful king:
And if ^note we be, how dare thy joints forget
To pay their ^note awful duty to our ^note 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 ^note, 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 yond ^note methinks he stands ^note—
That every stride he makes upon my ^note land
Is dangerous treason: he is come to open ^note
The purple testament of bleeding war;
But ere the crown he looks for live in ^note peace, ^note
Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
Shall ill become the flower of ^note England's face ^note,
Change the complexion of her ^note maid-pale peace ^note
To scarlet indignation and bedew
Her pastures' ^note grass with faithful English blood.

North.
The king of heaven forbid our lord the king
Should so with civil and uncivil arms
Be rush'd upon! Thy ^note thrice noble cousin
Harry Bolingbroke ^note doth humbly ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note;
And, as I am ^note a gentleman ^note, I credit him.

K. Rich.
Northumberland, say thus ^note 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 ^note hast ^{note note}
Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
We do ^note debase ourselves ^note, cousin ^note, do we not, [To Aumerle. ^note
To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die?

Aum.
No, good my lord; ^note let's fight with gentle words
Till time lend friends and friends their helpful ^note swords.

K. Rich.
O God, O God! that e'er this tongue of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment
On yon ^note 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.

Aum.
Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.

K. Rich.
What 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 ^note? o' ^note 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 ^note 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
And 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 ^note, 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? ^note
Aumerle, thou weep'st ^note, 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 ^note tears?
As ^note thus, ^note to drop them still upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Within the earth; and, therein laid,—there ^note lies ^note
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 ^note at me ^note.

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.

North.
My lord, in the base court he doth attend
To speak with you; may it ^note please you to come down.

K. Rich.
Down, down I come; like glistering Phaeton, ^note
Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
In the base court? ^note Base court, where kings grow base,
To come at traitors' calls and do them grace.
In the base court? Come down? ^note Down, court! down, king!
For night-owls shriek ^note where mounting larks should sing. ^note [Exeunt ^note from above.

Boling.
What says his majesty ^note?

North.
Sorrow and grief ^note of heart
Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man:
Yet he is come ^note. Enter ^note King Richard and his attendants below.

Boling.
Stand all apart,
And show fair duty to his majesty. [He kneels down. ^note
My gracious lord ^note,—

K. Rich.
Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee ^note
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. ^note
Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,

^note
Thus high at least, although your knee be low ^note.

Boling.
My gracious lord, I come but for mine own.

K. Rich.
Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.

Boling.
So far be mine, my most redoubted lord,
As my true service shall deserve your love.

K. Rich.
Well you deserve ^note: they well deserve to have,
That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
Uncle, give me your hands ^note: 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 ^note heir.
What you will have, I'll give, and willing too;
For do we must what force will have us do.
Set on ^note towards London, cousin, is it so ^note?

Boling.
Yea, my good lord.

K. Rich.
Then I must not say no. [Flourish. Exeunt. ^{note note} Scene IV. [Footnote: Langley. The Duke of York's garden. ^note Enter ^note the Queen and two Ladies.

Queen.
What sport shall we devise here in this garden,
To drive away the heavy thought of care?

Lady. ^note
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 ^{note note}?

Lady.
Of either, madam.

Queen.
Of neither ^note, girl:
For if of joy, being altogether wanting,
It doth remember me the more of sorrow;
Or if of grief, being altogether had ^note,
It adds more sorrow to my want of joy:
For what I have I need not to repeat;
And what ^note 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 ^note do me good,
And never borrow any tear of thee. ^note Enter ^note a Gardener, and two Servants.
But stay ^note, here come ^note the gardeners ^{note note}:
Let's step into the shadow of these trees.
My wretchedness unto a row of pins ^note, ^note
They'll talk of state; for every one doth so

Against a change; woe is forerun with woe ^{note note}. [Queen ^note and Ladies retire.

Gard.
Go, bind thou up yon ^note dangling apricocks ^note,
Which, like unruly children, make their sire
Stoop with oppression of their prodigal weight:
Give some supportance to the bending twigs.
Go thou, and like an executioner,
Cut off the heads of too ^note 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 ^note without profit suck
The soil's fertility from wholesome flowers.

Serv. ^note
Why should we in the compass of a pale
Keep law and form and due proportion,
Showing, as ^note in a model, our firm estate ^{note note},
When our sea-walled garden, the whole land,
Is full of weeds; her fairest flowers choked up,
Her fruit-trees all unpruned, her hedges ruin'd,
Her knots disorder'd ^note and her wholesome herbs
Swarming with caterpillars?

Gard.
Hold thy peace:
He that hath suffer'd ^note this disorder'd ^note spring
Hath now himself met with the fall of leaf:
The weeds which ^note his broad-spreading leaves did shelter,
That seem'd in eating him to hold him up,
Are pluck'd ^note up root and all by Bolingbroke,
I mean the Earl of Wiltshire, Bushy, Green.

Serv.
What, are they dead?

Gard.
They are; and Bolingbroke
Hath seized ^note the wasteful king. O, ^note what pity is it ^note
That he had ^note not so ^note trimm'd and dress'd his land
As we this garden! We at time of year ^note
Do wound ^note 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 lived to bear and he to taste
Their fruits of duty ^note: superfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughs may live ^note:
Had he done so, himself had borne the crown,
Which waste of idle hours hath ^note quite thrown down.

Serv.
What, think you then ^note the king shall be deposed?

Gard.
Depress'd he is already, and deposed
'Tis doubt ^note he will be: letters came last night
To a dear friend of the good ^note Duke of York's ^{note note},
That tell black tidings.

Queen.
O, I am press'd to death through want of speaking! [Coming forward. ^note
Thou, old ^note Adam's likeness, set ^note to dress this garden ^note,
How dares thy harsh rude ^note tongue sound this ^note unpleasing news? ^note
What Eve, what serpent, hath suggested thee
To 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 downfal? Say, where, when, and how,
Camest thou by this ^note ill tidings? speak, thou wretch.

Gard.
Pardon me, madam: little joy have I
To breathe this ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note 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 ^note it? O, thou think'st ^note
To serve me last, that I may longest keep
Thy ^note 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 ^note news of woe,
Pray God ^note the plants thou graft'st may never grow. [Exeunt ^note Queen and Ladies.

Gard.
Poor queen! so that thy state might be no worse,
I would my skill were subject to thy curse.
Here did she fall ^note a tear; here in this place
I'll set a bank of rue, sour ^note herb of grace:
Rue, even for ruth, here shortly shall be seen,
In the ^note remembrance of a weeping queen. [Exeunt. ^note

Previous section

Next section