Richard II by William Shakespeare

Act 3 - Scene 2

The coast of Wales. A castle in view.

King Richard II : Barkloughly castle call they this at hand?

Duke of Aumerle : Yea, my lord. How brooks your grace the air, [p]After your late
tossing on the breaking seas?

King Richard II : Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy [p]To stand upon my kingdom
once again. [p]Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, [p]Though
rebels wound thee with their horses' hoofs: [p]As a long-parted mother
with her child [p]Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in
meeting, [p]So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth, [p]And do
thee favours with my royal hands. [p]Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my
gentle earth, [p]Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous
sense; [p]But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, [p]And
heavy-gaited toads lie in their way, [p]Doing annoyance to the
treacherous feet [p]Which with usurping steps do trample
thee: [p]Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies; [p]And when they from
thy bosom pluck a flower, [p]Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking
adder [p]Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch [p]Throw death
upon thy sovereign's enemies. [p]Mock not my senseless conjuration,
lords: [p]This earth shall have a feeling and these stones [p]Prove
armed soldiers, ere her native king [p]Shall falter under foul
rebellion's arms.

Bishop of Carlisle : Fear not, my lord: that Power that made you king [p]Hath power to keep
you king in spite of all. [p]The means that heaven yields must be
embraced, [p]And not neglected; else, if heaven would, [p]And we will
not, heaven's offer we refuse, [p]The proffer'd means of succor and
redress.

Duke of Aumerle : He means, my lord, that we are too remiss; [p]Whilst Bolingbroke,
through our security, [p]Grows strong and great in substance and in
power.

King Richard II : Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not [p]That when the searching eye
of heaven is hid, [p]Behind the globe, that lights the lower
world, [p]Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen [p]In murders
and in outrage, boldly here; [p]But when from under this terrestrial
ball [p]He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines [p]And darts his
light through every guilty hole, [p]Then murders, treasons and
detested sins, [p]The cloak of night being pluck'd from off their
backs, [p]Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves? [p]So when
this thief, this traitor, Bolingbroke, [p]Who all this while hath
revell'd in the night [p]Whilst we were wandering with the
antipodes, [p]Shall see us rising in our throne, the east, [p]His
treasons will sit blushing in his face, [p]Not able to endure the
sight of day, [p]But self-affrighted tremble at his sin. [p]Not all
the water in the rough rude sea [p]Can wash the balm off from an
anointed king; [p]The breath of worldly men cannot depose [p]The
deputy elected by the Lord: [p]For every man that Bolingbroke hath
press'd [p]To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown, [p]God for
his Richard hath in heavenly pay [p]A glorious angel: then, if angels
fight, [p]Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the
right. [p][Enter EARL OF SALISBURY] [p]Welcome, my lord. how far off
lies your power?

Earl of Salisbury : Nor near nor farther off, my gracious lord, [p]Than this weak arm:
discomfort guides my tongue [p]And bids me speak of nothing but
despair. [p]One day too late, I fear me, noble lord, [p]Hath clouded
all thy happy days on earth: [p]O, call back yesterday, bid time
return, [p]And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting
men! [p]To-day, to-day, unhappy day, too late, [p]O'erthrows thy joys,
friends, fortune and thy state: [p]For all the Welshmen, hearing thou
wert dead. [p]Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed and fled.

Duke of Aumerle : Comfort, my liege; why looks your grace so pale?

King Richard II : But now the blood of twenty thousand men [p]Did triumph in my face,
and they are fled; [p]And, till so much blood thither come
again, [p]Have I not reason to look pale and dead? [p]All souls that
will be safe fly from my side, [p]For time hath set a blot upon my
pride.

Duke of Aumerle : Comfort, my liege; remember who you are.

King Richard II : I had forgot myself; am I not king? [p]Awake, thou coward majesty!
thou sleepest. [p]Is not the king's name twenty thousand
names? [p]Arm, arm, my name! a puny subject strikes [p]At thy great
glory. Look not to the ground, [p]Ye favourites of a king: are we not
high? [p]High be our thoughts: I know my uncle York [p]Hath power
enough to serve our turn. But who comes here?

Sir Stephen Scroop : More health and happiness betide my liege [p]Than can my care-tuned
tongue deliver him!

King Richard II : Mine ear is open and my heart prepared; [p]The worst is worldly loss
thou canst unfold. [p]Say, is my kingdom lost? why, 'twas my
care [p]And what loss is it to be rid of care? [p]Strives Bolingbroke
to be as great as we? [p]Greater he shall not be; if he serve
God, [p]We'll serve Him too and be his fellow so: [p]Revolt our
subjects? that we cannot mend; [p]They break their faith to God as
well as us: [p]Cry woe, destruction, ruin and decay: [p]The worst is
death, and death will have his day.

Sir Stephen Scroop : Glad am I that your highness is so arm'd [p]To bear the tidings of
calamity. [p]Like an unseasonable stormy day, [p]Which makes the
silver rivers drown their shores, [p]As if the world were all
dissolved to tears, [p]So high above his limits swells the rage [p]Of
Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land [p]With hard bright steel and
hearts harder than steel. [p]White-beards have arm'd their thin and
hairless scalps [p]Against thy majesty; boys, with women's
voices, [p]Strive to speak big and clap their female joints [p]In
stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown: [p]The very beadsmen learn to
bend their bows [p]Of double-fatal yew against thy state; [p]Yea,
distaff-women manage rusty bills [p]Against thy seat: both young and
old rebel, [p]And all goes worse than I have power to tell.

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

Sir Stephen Scroop : Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.

King Richard II : O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption! [p]Dogs, easily won to
fawn on any man! [p]Snakes, in my heart-blood warm'd, that sting my
heart! [p]Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas! [p]Would
they make peace? terrible hell make war [p]Upon their spotted souls
for this offence!

Sir Stephen Scroop : Sweet love, I see, changing his property, [p]Turns to the sourest and
most deadly hate: [p]Again uncurse their souls; their peace is
made [p]With heads, and not with hands; those whom you curse [p]Have
felt the worst of death's destroying wound [p]And lie full low, graved
in the hollow ground.

Duke of Aumerle : Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?

Sir Stephen Scroop : Ay, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.

Duke of Aumerle : Where is the duke my father with his power?

King Richard II : No matter where; of comfort no man speak: [p]Let's talk of graves, of
worms, and epitaphs; [p]Make dust our paper and with rainy
eyes [p]Write sorrow on the bosom of the earth, [p]Let's choose
executors and talk of wills: [p]And yet not so, for what can we
bequeath [p]Save our deposed bodies to the ground? [p]Our lands, our
lives and all are Bolingbroke's, [p]And nothing can we call our own
but death [p]And that small model of the barren earth [p]Which serves
as paste and cover to our bones. [p]For God's sake, let us sit upon
the ground [p]And tell sad stories of the death of kings; [p]How some
have been deposed; some slain in war, [p]Some haunted by the ghosts
they have deposed; [p]Some poison'd by their wives: some sleeping
kill'd; [p]All murder'd: for within the hollow crown [p]That rounds
the mortal temples of a king [p]Keeps Death his court and there the
antic sits, [p]Scoffing his state and grinning at his
pomp, [p]Allowing him a breath, a little scene, [p]To monarchize, be
fear'd and kill with looks, [p]Infusing him with self and vain
conceit, [p]As if this flesh which walls about our life, [p]Were brass
impregnable, and humour'd thus [p]Comes at the last and with a little
pin [p]Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king! [p]Cover your
heads and mock not flesh and blood [p]With solemn reverence: throw
away respect, [p]Tradition, form and ceremonious duty, [p]For you have
but mistook me all this while: [p]I live with bread like you, feel
want, [p]Taste grief, need friends: subjected thus, [p]How can you say
to me, I am a king?

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

Duke of Aumerle : My father hath a power; inquire of him [p]And learn to make a body of
a limb.

King Richard II : Thou chidest me well: proud Bolingbroke, I come [p]To change blows
with thee for our day of doom. [p]This ague fit of fear is
over-blown; [p]An easy task it is to win our own. [p]Say, Scroop,
where lies our uncle with his power? [p]Speak sweetly, man, although
thy looks be sour.

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

King Richard II : Thou hast said enough. [p]Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me
forth [p][To DUKE OF AUMERLE] [p]Of that sweet way I was in to
despair! [p]What say you now? what comfort have we now? [p]By heaven,
I'll hate him everlastingly [p]That bids me be of comfort any
more. [p]Go to Flint castle: there I'll pine away; [p]A king, woe's
slave, shall kingly woe obey. [p]That power I have, discharge; and let
them go [p]To ear the land that hath some hope to grow, [p]For I have
none: let no man speak again [p]To alter this, for counsel is but
vain.

Duke of Aumerle : My liege, one word.

King Richard II : He does me double wrong [p]That wounds me with the flatteries of his
tongue. [p]Discharge my followers: let them hence away, [p]From
Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.

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