<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<K. RICHARD>	<0%>
	Old John of Gaunt, time-honour'd Lancaster,
	Hast thou, according to thy oath and band,
	Brought hither Henry Hereford thy bold son,
	Here to make good the boisterous late appeal,
	Which then our leisure would not let us hear,
	Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<K. RICHARD>	<1%>
	Tell me, moreover, hast thou sounded him,
	If he appeal the duke on ancient malice,
	Or worthily, as a good subject should,
	On some known ground of treachery in him?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<K. RICHARD>	<1%>
	Then call them to our presence: face to face,
	And frowning brow to brow, ourselves will hear
	The accuser and the accused freely speak:
<STAGE DIR>
<Exeunt some Attendants.>
</STAGE DIR>
	High-stomach'd are they both, and full of ire,
	In rage deaf as the sea, hasty as fire.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 1><1%>
<K. RICHARD>	<1%>
	We thank you both: yet one but flatters us,
	As well appeareth by the cause you come;
	Namely, to appeal each other of high treason.
	Cousin of Hereford, what dost thou object
	Against the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<K. RICHARD>	<3%>
	What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's charge?
	It must be great that can inherit us
	So much as of a thought of ill in him.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 1><3%>
<K. RICHARD>	<4%>
	How high a pitch his resolution soars!
	Thomas of Norfolk, what sayst thou to this?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 1><4%>
<K. RICHARD>	<4%>
	Mowbray, impartial are our eyes and ears:
	Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir,—
	As he is but my father's brother's son,—
	Now, by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,
	Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood
	Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize
	The unstooping firmness of my upright soul.
	He is our subject, Mowbray; so art thou:
	Free speech and fearless I to thee allow.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<K. RICHARD>	<5%>
	Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd by me;
	Let's purge this choler without letting blood:
	This we prescribe, though no physician;
	Deep malice makes too deep incision:
	Forget, forgive; conclude and be agreed,
	Our doctors say this is no month to bleed.
	Good uncle, let this end where it begun;
	We'll calm the Duke of Norfolk, you your son.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<K. RICHARD>	<6%>
	And, Norfolk, throw down his.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<K. RICHARD>	<6%>
	Norfolk, throw down, we bid; there is no boot.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<K. RICHARD>	<6%>
	Rage must be withstood:
	Give me his gage: lions make leopards tame.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<K. RICHARD>	<7%>
	Cousin, throw down your gage: do you begin.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 1><SCENE 1><6%>
<K. RICHARD>	<7%>
	We were not born to sue, but to command:
	Which since we cannot do to make you friends,
	Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,
	At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day:
	There shall your swords and lances arbitrate
	The swelling difference of your settled hate:
	Since we cannot atone you, we shall see
	Justice design the victor's chivalry.
	Marshal, command our officers-at-arms
	Be ready to direct these home alarms.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 1><SCENE 3><10%>
<K. RICHARD>	<11%>
	Marshal, demand of yonder champion
	The cause of his arrival here in arms:
	Ask him his name, and orderly proceed
	To swear him in the justice of his cause.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 1><SCENE 3><10%>
<K. RICHARD>	<11%>
	Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,
	Both who he is and why he cometh hither
	Thus plated in habiliments of war;
	And formally, according to our law,
	Depose him in the justice of his cause.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 1><SCENE 3><11%>
<K. RICHARD>	<12%>
<STAGE DIR>
<Descends from his throne.>
</STAGE DIR> We will descend and fold him in our arms.
	Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,
	So be thy fortune in this royal fight!
	Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed,
	Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 1><SCENE 3><13%>
<K. RICHARD>	<14%>
	Farewell, my lord: securely I espy
	Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
	Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 1><SCENE 3><14%>
<K. RICHARD>	<15%>
	Let them lay by their helmets and their spears,
	And both return back to their chairs again:
	Withdraw with us; and let the trumpets sound
	While we return these dukes what we decree.
<STAGE DIR>
<A long flourish.>
</STAGE DIR>
<STAGE DIR>
<To the Combatants.>
</STAGE DIR> Draw near,
	And list what with our council we have done.
	For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd
	With that dear blood which it hath fostered;
	And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
	Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' swords;
	And for we think the eagle-winged pride
	Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
	With rival-hating envy, set on you
	To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle
	Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep;
	Which so rous'd up with boist'rous untun'd drums,
	With harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
	And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
	Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace
	And make us wade even in our kindred's blood:
	Therefore, we banish you our territories:
	You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life,
	Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
	Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
	But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 1><SCENE 3><15%>
<K. RICHARD>	<16%>
	Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom,
	Which I with some unwillingness pronounce:
	The sly slow hours shall not determinate
	The dateless limit of thy dear exile;
	The hopeless word of 'never to return'
	Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 1><SCENE 3><16%>
<K. RICHARD>	<16%>
	It boots thee not to be compassionate:
	After our sentence plaining comes too late.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 1><SCENE 3><16%>
<K. RICHARD>	<17%>
	Return again, and take an oath with thee.
	Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands;
	Swear by the duty that you owe to God—
	Our part therein we banish with yourselves—
	To keep the oath that we administer.
	You never shall,—so help you truth and God!—
	Embrace each other's love in banishment;
	Nor never look upon each other's face;
	Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile
	This low'ring tempest of your home-bred hate;
	Nor never by advised purpose meet
	To plot, contrive, or complot any ill
	'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 1><SCENE 3><17%>
<K. RICHARD>	<18%>
	Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes
	I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect
	Hath from the number of his banish'd years
	Pluck'd four away.—<STAGE DIR>
<To Bolingbroke.>
</STAGE DIR> Six frozen winters spent,
	Return with welcome home from banishment.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 1><SCENE 3><17%>
<K. RICHARD>	<18%>
	Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 1><SCENE 3><18%>
<K. RICHARD>	<18%>
	Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,
	Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave:
	Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lower?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 1><SCENE 3><18%>
<K. RICHARD>	<19%>
	Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so:
	Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 1><SCENE 4><20%>
<K. RICHARD>	<21%>
	We did observe. Cousin Aumerle,
	How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 1><SCENE 4><21%>
<K. RICHARD>	<21%>
	And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 1><SCENE 4><21%>
<K. RICHARD>	<22%>
	What said our cousin when you parted with him?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 29><ACT 1><SCENE 4><21%>
<K. RICHARD>	<22%>
	He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
	When time shall call him home from banishment,
	Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
	Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green
	Observ'd his courtship to the common people,
	How he did seem to dive into their hearts
	With humble and familiar courtesy,
	What reverence he did throw away on slaves,
	Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles
	And patient underbearing of his fortune,
	As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
	Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
	A brace of draymen bid God speed him well,
	And had the tribute of his supple knee,
	With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;'
	As were our England in reversion his,
	And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 30><ACT 1><SCENE 4><22%>
<K. RICHARD>	<23%>
	We will ourself in person to this war.
	And, for our coffers with too great a court
	And liberal largess are grown somewhat light,
	We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm;
	The revenue whereof shall furnish us
	For our affairs in hand. If that come short,
	Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters;
	Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
	They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold,
	And send them after to supply our wants;
	For we will make for Ireland presently.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 31><ACT 1><SCENE 4><22%>
<K. RICHARD>	<23%>
	Where lies he?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 32><ACT 1><SCENE 4><22%>
<K. RICHARD>	<23%>
	Now, put it, God. in his physician's mind
	To help him to his grave immediately!
	The lining of his coffers shall make coats
	To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
	Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him:
	Pray God we may make haste, and come too late.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 33><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<K. RICHARD>	<26%>
	What comfort, man? How is't with aged Gaunt?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 34><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<K. RICHARD>	<26%>
	Can sick men play so nicely with their names?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 35><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<K. RICHARD>	<27%>
	Should dying men flatter with those that live?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 36><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<K. RICHARD>	<27%>
	Thou, now a-dying, sayst thou flatter'st me.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 37><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<K. RICHARD>	<27%>
	I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 38><ACT 2><SCENE 1><27%>
<K. RICHARD>	<27%>
	And thou a lunatic lean-witted fool,
	Presuming on an ague's privilege,
	Dar'st with thy frozen admonition
	Make pale our cheek, chasing the royal blood
	With fury from his native residence.
	Now, by my seat's right royal majesty,
	Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,—
	This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head
	Should run thy head from thy unreverent shoulders.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 39><ACT 2><SCENE 1><27%>
<K. RICHARD>	<28%>
	And let them die that age and sullens have;
	For both hast thou, and both become the grave.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 40><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<K. RICHARD>	<29%>
	Right, you say true: as Hereford's love, so his;
	As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 41><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<K. RICHARD>	<29%>
	What says he?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 42><ACT 2><SCENE 1><28%>
<K. RICHARD>	<29%>
	The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he:
	His time is spent; our pilgrimage must be.
	So much for that. Now for our Irish wars.
	We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns,
	Which live like venom where no venom else
	But only they have privilege to live.
	And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
	Towards our assistance we do seize to us
	The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
	Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 43><ACT 2><SCENE 1><29%>
<K. RICHARD>	<30%>
	Why, uncle, what's the matter?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 44><ACT 2><SCENE 1><30%>
<K. RICHARD>	<31%>
	Think what you will: we seize into our hands
	His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 45><ACT 2><SCENE 1><30%>
<K. RICHARD>	<31%>
	Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wiltshire straight:
	Bid him repair to us to Ely House
	To see this business. To-morrow next
	We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow:
	And we create, in absence of ourself,
	Our uncle York lord governor of England;
	For he is just, and always lov'd us well.
	Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part;
	Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 46><ACT 3><SCENE 2><47%>
<K. RICHARD>	<48%>
	Barkloughly Castle call they this at hand?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 47><ACT 3><SCENE 2><48%>
<K. RICHARD>	<48%>
	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 her child
	Plays fondly with her tears and smiles in meeting,
	So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
	And do thee favour with my royal hands.
	Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
	Nor with thy sweets comfort his revenous 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 bosom pluck a flower,
	Guard it, I pray thee, 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 arms.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 48><ACT 3><SCENE 2><49%>
<K. RICHARD>	<49%>
	Discomfortable cousin! know'st thou not
	That when the searching eye of heaven is hid
	Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
	Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
	In murders and in outrage bloody here;
	But when, from under this terrestrial ball
	He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines
	And darts his light through every 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,
	Shall see us rising in our throne, the east,
	His treasons will sit blushing in his face,
	Not able to endure the sight of day,
	But self-affrighted tremble at his sin.
	Not all the water in the rough rude sea
	Can wash the balm from an anointed king;
	The breath of worldly men cannot depose
	The deputy elected by the Lord.
	For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
	To lift shrewd steel against our golden crown,
	God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
	A glorious angel: then, if angels fight,
	Weak men must fall, for heaven still guards the right.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 49><ACT 3><SCENE 2><50%>
<K. RICHARD>	<51%>
	But now, the blood of twenty thousand 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?
	All souls that will be safe, fly from my side;
	For time hath set a blot upon my pride.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 50><ACT 3><SCENE 2><50%>
<K. RICHARD>	<51%>
	I had forgot myself. Am I not king?
	Awake, thou sluggard majesty! thou sleepest.
	Is not the king's name twenty 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 to serve our turn. But who comes here?

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 51><ACT 3><SCENE 2><51%>
<K. RICHARD>	<51%>
	Mine ear is open and my heart prepar'd:
	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, loss, decay;
	The worst is death, and death will have his day.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 52><ACT 3><SCENE 2><51%>
<K. RICHARD>	<52%>
	Too well, too well thou tell'st a tale so ill.
	Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
	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 shall pay for it.
	I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 53><ACT 3><SCENE 2><52%>
<K. RICHARD>	<53%>
	O villains, vipers, damn'd without redemption!
	Dogs, easily won 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!
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 54><ACT 3><SCENE 2><52%>
<K. RICHARD>	<53%>
	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 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 of the barren earth
	Which serves as paste and cover to our bones.
	For God's sake, let us sit upon the ground
	And tell sad stories of the death of kings:
	How some have been depos'd, some slain in war,
	Some haunted by the ghosts they have depos'd,
	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 antick 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 pin
	Bores through his castle wall, and farewell king!
	Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
	With solemn reverence: throw away respect,
	Tradition, 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: subjected thus,
	How can you say to me I am a king?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 55><ACT 3><SCENE 2><54%>
<K. RICHARD>	<55%>
	Thou chid'st me well. Proud Boling broke, 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.—
	Say, Scroop, where lies our uncle with his power?
	Speak sweetly, man, although thy looks be sour.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 56><ACT 3><SCENE 2><54%>
<K. RICHARD>	<55%>
	Thou hast said enough.
<STAGE DIR>
<To Aumerle.>
</STAGE DIR> Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth
	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 go
	To ear the land that hath some hope to grow,
	For I have none: let no man speak again
	To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 57><ACT 3><SCENE 2><55%>
<K. RICHARD>	<56%>
	He does me double wrong,
	That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
	Discharge my followers: let them hence away,
	From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 58><ACT 3><SCENE 3><58%>
<K. RICHARD>	<58%>
<STAGE DIR>
<To Northumberland.>
</STAGE DIR> We are amaz'd; and thus long have we stood
	To watch the fearful bending of thy knee,
	Because we thought ourself thy lawful king:
	And if we be, how dare thy joints forget
	To pay their awful duty to our 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, 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 methinks he is,—
	That every stride he makes upon my land
	Is dangerous treason: he is come to open
	The purple testament of bleeding war;
	But ere the crown he looks for live in peace,
	Ten thousand bloody crowns of mothers' sons
	Shall ill become the flower of England's face,
	Change the complexion of her maid-pale peace
	To scarlet indignation, and bedew
	Her pastures' grass with faithful English blood.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 59><ACT 3><SCENE 3><59%>
<K. RICHARD>	<60%>
	Northumberland, say, thus 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 hast
	Speak to his gentle hearing kind commends.
<STAGE DIR>
<Northumberland retires to Bolingbroke.>
</STAGE DIR>
<STAGE DIR>
<To Aumerle.>
</STAGE DIR> We do debase ourself, cousin, do we not,
	To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
	Shall we call back Northumberland and send
	Defiance to the traitor, and so die?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 60><ACT 3><SCENE 3><60%>
<K. RICHARD>	<60%>
	O God! O God! that e'er this tongue of mine,
	That laid the sentence of dread banishment
	On yond 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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 61><ACT 3><SCENE 3><60%>
<K. RICHARD>	<61%>
	What must the king do now? Must he submit?
	The king shall do it: must he be depos'd?
	The king shall be contented: must he lose
	The name of king? o' 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 gown,
	My figur'd 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, 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?
	Aumerle, thou weep'st, 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 tears?
	As thus; to drop them still upon one place,
	Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
	Within the earth; and, there inlaid: 'There lies
	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 at me.
	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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 62><ACT 3><SCENE 3><61%>
<K. RICHARD>	<62%>
	Down, down, I come; like glistering Phaethon,
	Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
	In the base court? Base court, where kings grow base,
	To come at traitors' calls and do them grace.
	In the base court? Come down? Down, court! down, king!
	For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 63><ACT 3><SCENE 3><62%>
<K. RICHARD>	<62%>
	Fair cousin, you debase your princely knee
	To make the base earth proud with kissing it:
	Me rather had my heart might feel your love
	Than my unpleas'd eye see your courtesy.
	Up, cousin, up; your heart is up, I know,
	Thus high at least, although your knee be low.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 64><ACT 3><SCENE 3><62%>
<K. RICHARD>	<63%>
	Your own is yours, and I am yours, and all.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 65><ACT 3><SCENE 3><62%>
<K. RICHARD>	<63%>
	Well you deserve: they well deserve to have
	That know the strong'st and surest way to get.
	Uncle, give me your hand: 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 heir.
	What you will have I'll give, and willing too;
	For do we must what force will have us do.
	Set on towards London. Cousin, is it so?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 66><ACT 3><SCENE 3><62%>
<K. RICHARD>	<63%>
	Then I must not say no.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 67><ACT 4><SCENE 1><72%>
<K. RICHARD>	<73%>
	Alack! why am I sent for to a king
	Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
	Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
	To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my limbs:
	Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
	To this submission. Yet I well remember
	The favours of these men: were they not mine?
	Did they not sometime cry, 'All haill' to me?
	So Judas did to Christ: but he, in twelve,
	Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
	God save the king! Will no man say, amen?
	Am I both priest and clerk? well then, amen.
	God save the king! although I be not he;
	And yet, amen, if heaven do think him me.
	To do what service am I sent for hither?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 68><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<K. RICHARD>	<74%>
	Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown;
	Here cousin,
	On this side my hand and on that side thine.
	Now is this golden crown like a deep well
	That owes two buckets filling one another;
	The emptier ever dancing in the air,
	The other down, unseen and full of water:
	That bucket down and full of tears am I,
	Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 69><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<K. RICHARD>	<74%>
	My crown, I am; but still my griefs are mine.
	You may my glories and my state depose,
	But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 70><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<K. RICHARD>	<74%>
	Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
	My care is loss of care, by old care done;
	Your care is gain of care, by new care won.
	The cares I give I have, though given away;
	They tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 71><ACT 4><SCENE 1><73%>
<K. RICHARD>	<74%>
	Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be;
	Therefore no no, for I resign to thee.
	Now mark me how I will undo myself:
	I give this heavy weight from off my head,
	And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
	The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
	With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
	With mine own hands I give away my crown,
	With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
	With mine own breath release all duteous rites:
	All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
	My manors, rents, revenues, I forego;
	My acts, decrees, and statutes I deny:
	God pardon all oaths that are broke to me!
	God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee!
	Make me, that nothing have, with nothing griev'd,
	And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all achiev'd!
	Long mayst thou live in Richard's seat to sit,
	And soon lie Richard in an earthy pit!
	God save King Henry, unking'd Richard says,
	And send him many years of sunshine days!
	What more remains?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 72><ACT 4><SCENE 1><74%>
<K. RICHARD>	<75%>
	Must I do so? and must I ravel out
	My weav'd-up follies? Gentle Northumberland,
	If thy offences were upon record,
	Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
	To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
	There shouldst thou find one heinous article,
	Containing the deposing of a king,
	And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
	Mark'd with a blot, damn'd in the book of heaven.
	Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me,
	Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
	Though some of you with Pilate wash your hands,
	Showing an outward pity; yet you Pilates
	Have here deliver'd me to my sour cross,
	And water cannot wash away your sin.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 73><ACT 4><SCENE 1><75%>
<K. RICHARD>	<76%>
	Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see:
	And yet salt water blinds them not so much
	But they can see a sort of traitors here.
	Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
	I find myself a traitor with the rest;
	For I have given here my soul's consent
	To undeck the pompous body of a king;
	Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
	Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant,
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 74><ACT 4><SCENE 1><75%>
<K. RICHARD>	<76%>
	No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
	Nor no man's lord; I have no name, no title,
	No, not that name was given me at the font,
	But 'tis usurp'd: alack the heavy day!
	That I have worn so many winters out,
	And know not now what name to call myself.
	O! that I were a mockery king of snow,
	Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
	To melt myself away in water-drops.
	Good king, great king,—and yet not greatly good,
	An if my word be sterling yet in England,
	Let it command a mirror hither straight,
	That it may show me what a face I have,
	Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 75><ACT 4><SCENE 1><76%>
<K. RICHARD>	<77%>
	Fiend! thou torment'st me ere I come to hell.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 76><ACT 4><SCENE 1><76%>
<K. RICHARD>	<77%>
	They shall be satisfied: I'll read enough
	When I do see the very book indeed
	Where all my sins are writ, and that's myself.

<STAGE DIR>
<Re-enter Attendant, with a glass.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Give me the glass, and therein will I read.
	No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
	So many blows upon this face of mine
	And made no deeper wounds? O, flattering glass!
	Like to my followers in prosperity,
	Thou dost beguile me. Was this face the face
	That every day under his household roof
	Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face
	That like the sun did make beholders wink?
	Was this the face that fac'd so many follies,
	And was at last out-fac'd by Bolingbroke?
	A brittle glory shineth in this face:
	As brittle as the glory is the face;
<STAGE DIR>
<Dashes the glass against the ground.>
</STAGE DIR>
	For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
	Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 77><ACT 4><SCENE 1><77%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	Say that again.
	The shadow of my sorrow! Ha! let's see:
	'Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
	And these external manners of laments
	Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
	That swells with silence in the tortur'd soul;
	There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
	For thy great bounty, that not only giv'st
	Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
	How to lament the cause. I'll beg one boon,
	And then be gone and trouble you no more.
	Shall I obtain it?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 78><ACT 4><SCENE 1><77%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	'Fair cousin!' I am greater than a king;
	For when I was a king, my flatterers
	Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
	I have a king here to my flatterer.
	Being so great, I have no need to beg.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 79><ACT 4><SCENE 1><77%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	And shall I have?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 80><ACT 4><SCENE 1><77%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	Then give me leave to go.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 81><ACT 4><SCENE 1><77%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 82><ACT 4><SCENE 1><78%>
<K. RICHARD>	<78%>
	O, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
	That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 83><ACT 5><SCENE 1><79%>
<K. RICHARD>	<80%>
	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
	Shows 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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 84><ACT 5><SCENE 1><79%>
<K. RICHARD>	<80%>
	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 tale of me,
	And send the hearers weeping to their beds:
	For why the senseless 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.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 85><ACT 5><SCENE 1><80%>
<K. RICHARD>	<81%>
	Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal
	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;
	And he shall think that thou, which know'st 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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 86><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<K. RICHARD>	<82%>
	Doubly divorc'd! Bad men, ye violate
	A two-fold marriage; 'twixt my crown and me,
	And then, betwixt me and my married wife.
	Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
	And yet not so, for with a kiss '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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 87><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<K. RICHARD>	<82%>
	Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 88><ACT 5><SCENE 1><81%>
<K. RICHARD>	<82%>
	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.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 89><ACT 5><SCENE 1><82%>
<K. RICHARD>	<82%>
	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, thero is such length in grief.
	One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;
	Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 90><ACT 5><SCENE 1><82%>
<K. RICHARD>	<83%>
	We make woe wanton with this fond delay:
	Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 91><ACT 5><SCENE 5><93%>
<K. RICHARD>	<94%>
	I have been studying how I may compare
	This prison where I live unto the world:
	And for because the world is populous,
	And here is not a creature but myself,
	I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out.
	My brain I'll prove the female to my soul;
	My soul the father: and these two beget
	A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
	And these same thoughts people this little world
	In humours like the people of this world,
	For no thought is contented. The better sort,
	As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd
	With scruples, and do set the word itself
	Against the word:
	As thus, 'Come, little ones;' and then again,
	'It is as hard to come as for a camel
	To thread the postern of a needle's eye.'
	Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
	Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails
	May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
	Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls;
	And, for they cannot, die in their own pride.
	Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
	That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
	Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
	Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame,
	That many have and others must sit there:
	And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
	Bearing their own misfortune on the back
	Of such as have before endur'd the like.
	Thus play I in one person many people,
	And none contented: sometimes am I king;
	Then treason makes me wish myself a beggar,
	And so I am: then crushing penury
	Persuades me I was better when a king;
	Then am I king'd again; and by and by
	Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke,
	And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be,
	Nor I nor any man that but man is
	With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
	With being nothing. Music do I hear?
<STAGE DIR>
<Music.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Ha, ha! keep time. How sour sweet music is
	When time is broke and no proportion kept!
	So is it in the music of men's lives.
	And here have I the daintiness of ear
	To check time broke in a disorder'd string;
	But for the concord of my state and time
	Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
	I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
	For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
	My thoughts are minutes, and with sighs they jar
	Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
	Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
	Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
	Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
	Are clamorous groans, that strike upon my heart
	Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
	Show minutes, times, and hours; but my time
	Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
	While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
	This music mads me: let it sound no more;
	For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
	In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
	Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
	For 'tis a sign of love, and love to Richard
	Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 92><ACT 5><SCENE 5><95%>
<K. RICHARD>	<96%>
	Thanks, noble peer;
	The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
	What art thou? and how comest thou hither, man,
	Where no man never comes but that sad dog
	That brings me food to make misfortune live?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 93><ACT 5><SCENE 5><96%>
<K. RICHARD>	<96%>
	Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
	How went he under him?
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 94><ACT 5><SCENE 5><96%>
<K. RICHARD>	<96%>
	So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back!
	That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
	This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
	Would he not stumble? Would he not fall down,—
	Since pride must have a fall,—and break the neck
	Of that proud man that did usurp his back?
	Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
	Since thou, created to be aw'd by man,
	Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
	And yet I bear a burden like an ass,
	Spur-gall'd and tir'd by jauncing Bolingbroke.

</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 95><ACT 5><SCENE 5><96%>
<K. RICHARD>	<97%>
	If thou love me, 'tis time thou wert away.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 96><ACT 5><SCENE 5><96%>
<K. RICHARD>	<97%>
	Taste of it first, as thou art wont to do.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 97><ACT 5><SCENE 5><97%>
<K. RICHARD>	<97%>
	The devil take Henry of Lancaster, and thee!
	Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.
</K. RICHARD>

<SPEECH 98><ACT 5><SCENE 5><97%>
<K. RICHARD>	<97%>
	How now! what means death in this rude assault?
	Villain, thine own hand yields thy death's instrument.
<STAGE DIR>
<Snatching a weapon and killing one.>
</STAGE DIR>
	Go thou and fill another room in hell.
<STAGE DIR>
<He kills another: then Exton strikes him down.>
</STAGE DIR>
	That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire
	That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
	Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
	Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high,
	Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.
</K. RICHARD>

