Gary Taylor, John Jowett, Terri Bourus, and Gabriel Egan (eds), The New Oxford Shakespeare: Modern Critical Edition
Editor’s Note[Flourish.] Enter [with drums and colours] the King, Aumerle, Carlisle, and [soldiers]1
king richard Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand?Editor’s Note2
aumerle Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air
Editor’s Note3After late tossing on the breaking seas?4
king richard Needs must I like it well. I weep for joy
5To stand upon my kingdom once again.
Editor’s Note6Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand.
7Though rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs.
Editor’s Note8As a long-parted mother with her child
Editor’s Note9Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting,
10So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee my earth,
Editor’s Note11And do thee favours with my royal hands.
12Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Editor’s Note13Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense;
Editor’s Note14But let thy spiders that suck up thy venom
Editor’s Note15And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way,
Editor’s Note16Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet
17Which with usurping steps do trample thee.
Editor’s Note18Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies,
Editor’s Note19And, when they from thy bosom pluck a flower,
20Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder,
Editor’s Note21Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Link 22Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.
Editor’s Note23Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords.
Editor’s Note24This earth shall have a feeling, and these stones
Editor’s Note25Prove armèd soldiers ere her native king
26Shall falter under foul rebellion's arms.27
bishop of carlisle Fear not, my lord. That power that made you king
28Hath power to keep you king in spite of all.
Editor’s NoteD2And not neglected; else heaven would,
D3And we will not heaven's offer we refuse—
D4The proffered means of succour and redress.29
aumerle He means, my lord, that we are too remiss,
Editor’s Note30Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
31Grows strong and great in substance and in power.Editor’s Note32
king richard Discomfortable cousin, know'st thou not
Editor’s Note33That, when the searching eye of heaven is hid
Editor’s Note34Behind the globe that lights the lower world,
35Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen
Editor’s Note36In murders and in outrage bloody here;
Editor’s Note37But when from under this terrestrial ball
38He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
39And darts his light through every guilty hole,
40Then murders, treasons and detested sins,
41The cloak of night being plucked from off their backs,
Editor’s Note42Stand bare and naked trembling at themselves?
43So when this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke,
44Who all this while hath revelled in the night
Editor’s Note45Whilst we were wand'ring with the Antipodes,
Editor’s Note46Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
47His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
48Not able to endure the sight of day,
49But, self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
Editor’s Note50Not all the water in the rough rude sea
Editor’s Note51Can wash the balm off from a 'nointed king.
52The breath of worldly men cannot depose
Editor’s Note53The deputy elected by the Lord.
Editor’s Note54For every man that Bolingbroke hath pressed
56God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
57A glorious angel. Then, if angels fight,
Editor’s Note58Weak men must fall; for heaven still guards the right.Enter Salisbury
Editor’s Note59Welcome, my lord. How far off lies your power?Editor’s Note60
salisbury Nor nea'er nor farther off, my gracious lord,
61Than this weak arm. Discomfort guides my tongue,
62And bids me speak of nothing but despair.
Editor’s Note63One day too late, I fear me, noble lord,
65O, call back yesterday, bid time return,
66And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men.
67Today, today, unhappy day too late,
Editor’s Note68Overthrows thy joys, friends, fortune, and thy state;
69For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
70Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled.71
aumerle Comfort, my liege. Why looks your grace so pale?Editor’s Note72
king richard But now the blood of twenty thousand men
73 Did triumph in my face, and they are fled;
74And till so much blood thither come again,
75 Have I not reason to look pale and dead?
Editor’s Note76All souls that will be safe fly from my side,
77 For time hath set a blot upon my pride.78
aumerle Comfort, my liege. Remember who you are.79
king richard I had forgot myself. Am I not King?
80Awake, thou coward majesty, thou sleep'st!
81Is not the King's name twenty thousand names?
82Arm, arm, my name! A puny subject strikes
83At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
84Ye favourites of a king. Are we not high?
85High be our thoughts. I know my uncle York
Editor’s Note86Hath power enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?Enter Scrope87
scrope More health and happiness betide my liege
Editor’s Note88Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him.89
king richard Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared.
Link 90The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold.
91Say, is my kingdom lost? Why, 'twas my care,
92And what loss is it to be rid of care?
93Strives Bolingbroke to be as great as we?
94Greater he shall not be. If he serve God,
Editor’s Note95We'll serve him too, and be his fellow so.
96Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend.
97They break their faith to God as well as us.
Editor’s Note98Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay!
99The worst is death, and death will have his day.100
scrope Glad am I that your highness is so armed
101To bear the tidings of calamity,
102Like an unseasonable stormy day,
103Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores
104As if the world were all dissolved to tears;
Editor’s Note105So high above his limits swells the rage
Editor’s Note106Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land
107With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel.
Editor’s Note108White-beards have armed their thin and hairless scalps
Editor’s Note110Strive to speak big and clap their female joints
Editor’s Note111In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown.
112Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
Editor’s Note113Of double-fatal yew against thy state.
Editor’s Note114Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
Editor’s Note115Against thy seat. Both young and old rebel,
116And all goes worse than I have power to tell.117
king richard Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
Editor’s Note118Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?
119What is become of Bushy? Where is Green?
120That they have let the dangerous enemy
Editor’s Note121Measure our confines with such peaceful steps,
122If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it:
123I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.124
scrope Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.Editor’s Note125
king richard O villains, vipers, damned without redemption!
126Dogs easily won to fawn on any man!
128Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
129Would they make peace? Terrible hell,
Editor’s Note130Make war upon their spotted souls for this.Editor’s Note131
scrope Sweet love, I see, changing his property,
132Turns to the sourest and most deadly hate.
133Again uncurse their souls. Their peace is made
134With heads and not with hands. Those whom you curse
135Have felt the worst of death's destroying wound,
Editor’s Note136And lie full low, graved in the hollow ground.137
aumerle Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?138
scrope Ay, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.139
aumerle Where is the Duke my father with his power?140
king richard No matter where. Of comfort no man speak.
141Let's talk of graves, of worms, and epitaphs,
Editor’s Note142Make dust our paper, and with rainy eyes
143Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth.
144Let's choose executors and talk of wills.—
145And yet, not so, for what can we bequeath
Editor’s Note146Save our deposèd bodies to the ground?
147Our lands, our lives, and all are Bolingbroke's;
148And nothing can we call our own but death,
Editor’s Note149And that small model of the barren earth
pg 890Editor’s Note150Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
Editor’s Note151For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground,
152And tell sad stories of the death of kings—
153How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
154Some haunted by the ghosts they have deposed,
155Some poisoned by their wives, some sleeping killed—
156All murdered; for within the hollow crown
Editor’s Note157That rounds the mortal temples of a king
Editor’s Note158Keeps Death his court; and there the antic sits,
Editor’s Note159Scoffing his state and grinning at his pomp,
160Allowing him a breath, a little scene,
161To monarchize, be feared, and kill with looks,
162Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
163As if this flesh which walls about our life
Editor’s Note164Were brass impregnable; and, humoured thus,
Link 165Comes at the last, and with a little pin
Editor’s Note166Bores through his castle wall; and farewell, king.
Editor’s Note167Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
168With solemn reverence. Throw away respect,
Editor’s Note169Tradition, form, and ceremonious duty,
170For you have but mistook me all this while.
Editor’s Note171I live with bread, like you feel want,
Editor’s Note172Taste grief, need friends. Subjected thus,
173How can you say to me I am a king?174
bishop of carlisle My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their woes,
Editor’s Note175But presently prevent the ways to wail.
Editor’s Note176To fear the foe, since fear oppresseth strength,
177Gives in your weakness strength unto your foe;
178And so your follies fight against yourself.
Editor’s Note179Fear and be slain, no worse can come to fight;
Editor’s Note180And fight and die is death destroying death,
Editor’s Note181Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.Editor’s Note182
aumerle My father hath a power. Enquire of him,
183And learn to make a body of a limb.184
king richard Thou chid'st me well. Proud Bolingbroke, I come
Editor’s Note185To change blows with thee for our day of doom.
186This ague-fit of fear is overblown.
187An easy task it is to win our own.
188Say, Scrope, where lies our uncle with his power?
189Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.pg 891190
scroope Men judge by the complexion of the sky
191 The state and inclination of the day;
Editor’s Note192So may you by my dull and heavy eye.
193 My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say.
Editor’s Note194I play the torturer by small and small
195To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken.
196Your uncle York is joined with Bolingbroke,
197And all your northern castles yielded up,
Editor’s Note198And all your southern gentlemen in arms
Editor’s Note199Upon his party.
king richard Thou hast said enough.[To Aumerle]
Editor’s Note200Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
Link 201Of that sweet way I was in to despair.
202What say you now? What comfort have we now?
203By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
204That bids me be of comfort any more.
205Go to Flint Castle; there I'll pine away.
Editor’s Note206A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey.
207That power I have, discharge, and let them go
Editor’s Note208To ear the land that hath some hope to grow;
209For I have none. Let no man speak again
210To alter this, for counsel is but vain.211
aumerle My liege, one word.
king richard He does me double wrong
212That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
213Discharge my followers. Let them hence away,
214From Richard's night, to Bolingbroke's fair day.[Exeunt]