| 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: | 5 |
| | Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth | |
| | Have any resting for her true king's queen. | |
| | Enter KING RICHARD II and Guard | |
| | 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, | 10 |
| | 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 lodged in thee, | 15 |
| | When triumph is become an alehouse guest? | |
| KING RICHARD II | 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 awaked, the truth of what we are | 20 |
| | 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, | 25 |
| | Which our profane hours here have stricken down. | |
| QUEEN | What, is my Richard both in shape and mind | |
| | Transform'd and weaken'd? hath Bolingbroke deposed | |
| | Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart? | |
| | The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw, | 30 |
| | And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage | |
| | To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, | |
| | Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod, | |
| | And fawn on rage with base humility, | |
| | Which art a lion and a king of beasts? | 35 |
| KING RICHARD II | 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 takest, | |
| | As from my death-bed, thy last living leave. | 40 |
| | 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 griefs, | |
| | Tell thou the lamentable tale of me | 45 |
| | 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, | 50 |
| | For the deposing of a rightful king. | |
| | Enter NORTHUMBERLAND and others | |
| NORTHUMBERLAND | My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed: | |
| | 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. | 55 |
| KING RICHARD II | 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 | |
| | Shalt break into corruption: thou shalt think, | 60 |
| | 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 urged, another way | 65 |
| | To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. | |
| | The love of wicked men converts to fear; | |
| | That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both | |
| | To worthy danger and deserved death. | |
| NORTHUMBERLAND | My guilt be on my head, and there an end. | 70 |
| | Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith. | |
| KING RICHARD II | Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate | |
| | A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me, | |
| | And then betwixt me and my married wife. | |
| | Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me; | 75 |
| | And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. | |
| | Part us, Northumberland; I toward 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, | 80 |
| | Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. | |
| QUEEN | And must we be divided? must we part? | |
| KING RICHARD II | Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart. | |
| QUEEN | Banish us both and send the king with me. | |
| NORTHUMBERLAND | That were some love but little policy. | 85 |
| QUEEN | Then whither he goes, thither let me go. | |
| KING RICHARD II | 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. | 90 |
| QUEEN | So longest way shall have the longest moans. | |
| KING RICHARD II | 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; | 95 |
| | One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; | |
| | Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart. | |
| QUEEN | Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part | |
| | To take on me to keep and kill thy heart. | |
| | So, now I have mine own again, be gone, | 100 |
| | That I might strive to kill it with a groan. | |
| KING RICHARD II | We make woe wanton with this fond delay: | |
| | Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. | |
| | Exeunt | |