And these external manners of lament Are merely shadows to the unseen grief, Boling. Name it, fair cousin. K. Rich. Fair cousin? Why, I am greater than a king: For, when I was a king, my flatterers Were then but subjects; being now a subject, Being so great, I have no need to beg. K. Rich. And shall I have? Boling. You shall. K. Rich. Then give me leave to go. K. Rich. Whither you will, so I were from sights. your Boling. Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower. K. Rich. O, good! Convey? - Conveyers' are you all, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall. [Exeunt K. RICHARD, some Lords, and a Guard. Boling. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves. [Exeunt all but the Abbot, Bishop of CARLISLE, and AUMERLE. Abbot. A woeful pageant have we here beheld. Car. The woe's to come; the children yet unborn Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. VOL. V. 8 Jugglers, also robbers. H Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot I see your brows are full of discontent, f [Exeunt. - ACT THE FIFTH. SCENE I. London. A Street leading to the Tower. Enter QUEEN, and Ladies. Queen. This way the king will come; this is the way To Julius Cæsar's ill-erected tower, To whose flint bosom my condemned lord Enter King RICHARD, and Guards. But soft, but see, or rather do not see, And wash him fresh again with true-love tears. 9 Tower of London. 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 ale-house guest? K. Rich. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden: learn, good soul, 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 stricken down. Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind Transform'd, and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage, K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but I had been still a happy king of men. Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for Think, I am dead; and that even here thou tak'st With good old folks; and let them tell thee tales And, ere thou bid good night, to quit' their grief, Tell thou the lamentable fall of me, Requite, repay. And send the hearers weeping to their beds. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, attended. North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd; You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower. The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne, And he shall think, that thou, which know'st the way To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. North. My guilt be on my head, and there an end. Take leave, and part; for you must part forthwith. My wife to France; from whence, set forth in pomp, She came adorned hither like sweet May, Sent back like Hallowmas2, or short'st of day. Queen. And must we be divided? must we part? K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. Queen. Banish us bóth, and send the king with me. North. That were some love, but little policy. Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me go? K. Rich. So two, together weeping, make one woe. Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here; moans. K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, being short, the way And piece the way out with a heavy heart. [They kiss. Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part, To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. [Kiss again. So, now I have mine own again, begone, K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond delay: Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. 2 Allhallows, i.e. All-saints, Nov. 1. [Exeunt. |