Car. The woe's to come; the children yet

unborn

Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
Aum. You holy clergymen, is there no plot
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
Abbot. Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament
To bury mine intents, but also to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise: -
I see, your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears;
Come home with me to supper; I will lay
A plot, shall shew us all a merry day.

[Exeunt.]

ACT V...

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 Caesar's ill-erected tower,

To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke:
Here let us rest, if this rebellious, earth
Have any resting for her true king's queen.

Enter King RICHARD, and guards.

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 model where old Troy did stand;
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,
To think our former state a happy dream;
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are
Shews us but this: I am sworn brother, sweet,
To grim necessity; and he and I

Will keep a league till death. 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 Depos'd 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 be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly? kifs the rod;
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion, and a king of beasts?

K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught
but beasts,

I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for
France:

Think, I am dead; and that even here thou

tak'st,

As from my death bed, my 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 betid:

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their

grief,

Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,

And send the hearers weeping to their beds.
For why, the senselefs brands will sympathize
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And, in compassion, weep the fire out:
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, and others,

North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang'd;

You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.
K. Rich. Northumberland, thou ladder where-

withal

The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,-
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is, ere foul sin, gathering head,
Shall break into corruption: thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm, and give thee half,
It is too little, helping him to all;

He shall think, that thou, which knowest the way

To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urg'd, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne.
The love of wicked friends converts to fear;
That fear to hate; and hate turns one, or both,
To worthy danger, and deserved death.

North. My guilt be on my head, and there

an end.

Take leave, and part; for you must part forth

A two-fold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me;
And then, betwixt me and my married wife.
Let me unkifs the oath 'twixt thee and me;
And, yet not so, for with a kifs 'twas made.
Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and, sickness pines the
clime;

My wife to France; from whence set forth in pomp,

She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas, 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 both, 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; Better far off, than near, be ne'er the near'. Go, count thy way with sighs: I mine with groans.

Queen. So longest way shall have the longest

moans..

K. Rich. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,

And piece the way out with a heavy heart. Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief, Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief. One kifs shall stop our mouths, and dumbly

part;

Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart. [They kifs.]

Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.

[Kifs again.] So, now I have mine own again, begone, That I may strive to kill it with a groan. K. Kich. We make woe wanton with this fond

delay:

Once more, adieu: the rest let sorrow say.

SCENE

II.

[Exeunt.]

The same.

A Room in the Duke of York's Palace.

Enter YORK and his Dutchefs.

Dutch. My lord, you told me, you would tell the rest,

When weeping made you break the story off Of our two cousins coming into London. York. Where did I leave?

Dutch. At that sad stop, my lord,

Where rude misgovern'd hands, from windows'

tops,

Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head. York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bo

Mounted

lingbroke,

upon a hot and fiery steed, Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,

With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course, While all tongues cry'd God save thee, Bo

lingbroke!

-

You would have thought the very windows spake,

So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage; and that all the walls,