That, by confessing them, the souls of men May deem that you are worthily deposed. KING RICHARD II Must I do so? and must I ravel out My weaved-up folly? 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, 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. NORTHUMBERLAND My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles. KING RICHARD II 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. NORTHUMBERLAND My lord,-- KING RICHARD II 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. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Go some of you and fetch a looking-glass.
Exit an attendant NORTHUMBERLAND Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come. KING RICHARD II Fiend, thou torment'st me ere I come to hell! HENRY BOLINGBROKE Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland. NORTHUMBERLAND The commons will not then be satisfied. KING RICHARD II 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.
Re-enter Attendant, with a glass 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 faced so many follies, And was at last out-faced by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face:
As brittle as the glory is the face;
Dashes the glass against the ground For there it is, crack'd in a hundred shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport, How soon my sorrow hath destroy'd my face. HENRY BOLINGBROKE The shadow of your sorrow hath destroy'd The shadow or your face. KING RICHARD II 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 tortured soul;
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king, For thy great bounty, that not only givest 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? HENRY BOLINGBROKE Name it, fair cousin. KING RICHARD II '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. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Yet ask. KING RICHARD II And shall I have? HENRY BOLINGBROKE You shall. KING RICHARD II Then give me leave to go. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Whither? KING RICHARD II Whither you will, so I were from your sights. HENRY BOLINGBROKE Go, some of you convey him to the Tower. KING RICHARD II O, good! convey? conveyers are you all, That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
Exeunt KING RICHARD II, some Lords, and a Guard HENRY BOLINGBROKE On Wednesday next we solemnly set down Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
Exeunt all except the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, the Abbot of Westminster, and DUKE OF AUMERLE Abbot A woeful pageant have we here beheld. BISHOP OF CARLISLE The woe's to come; the children yet unborn.
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn. DUKE OF AUMERLE You holy clergymen, is there no plot To rid the realm of this pernicious blot? Abbot My lord, 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; and I'll lay A plot shall show us all a merry day.