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 show 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 Cæsar's ill-erected tower,1

To whose flint-bosom my condemned lord
Is doomed 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 honor; thou king Richard's tomb,
And not king Richard; thou most beauteous inn,3

1 By ill-erected is probably meant erected for evil purposes.

2 Map is used for picture. In the Rape of Lucrece, Shakspeare calls sleep "the map of death."

3 Inn does not, probably, here mean a house of public entertainment, but a dwelling or lodging generally; in which sense the word was anciently used.

Why should hard-favored grief be lodged 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 awaked, 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 there 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
Transformed and weakened? Hath Bolingbroke
Deposed 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'erpowered; 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?

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 woful ages, long ago betid;

And, ere thou bid good night, to quit their grief,
Tell thou the lamentable fall3 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;

1 Sworn brother alludes to the fratres jurati, who, in the age of adventure, bound themselves by mutual oaths to share fortunes together.

2 To requite their mournful stories.

3 The quarto of 1597 reads tale.

And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND, attended.

North. 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.

K. Rich. 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 urged, 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 forthwith.
K. Rich. Doubly divorced?-Bad men, ye 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;
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.

Queen. And must we be divided? must we part? K. Rich. Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.

1 All Hallows, i. e. All Saints, Nov. 1. Mason suggests the propriety of reading" or shortest day."

Queen. Banish us both, and send the king with me. North. That were some love, but little policy.

1

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'.2
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 kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part;
Thus give I mine, and thus I take thy heart.

[They kiss. Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good

part,

To take on me to keep, and kill thy heart.3

So now I have mine own again, begone,
That I may strive to kill it with a groan.

[Kiss again.

K. Rich. We make woe wanton with this fond delay. Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say. [Exeunt.

SCENE II. The same.

A Room in the Duke of York's Palace.

Enter YORK and his Duchess.*

Duch. 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.

1 The quartos give this speech to the king.

2 Never the nigher, i. e. "it is better to be at a great distance, than, being near each other, to find that we are yet not likely to be peaceably and happily united."

3 So in King Henry V. Act ii. Sc. 2:

66

the king hath killed his heart."

4 The first wife of Edward duke of York was Isabella, daughter of Peter the Cruel, king of Castile and Leon. He married her in 1372, and

York. Where did I leave?

Duch.
At that sad stop, my lord,
Where rude, misgoverned hands, from windows' tops,
Threw dust and rubbish on king Richard's head.
York. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,-
Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed,

Which his aspiring rider seemed to know,—
With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course,
While all tongues cried-God save thee, Bolingbroke!
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,
With painted imagery, had said at once,-
Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!
Whilst he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus,—I thank you, countrymen;
And thus still doing, thus he passed along.

Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the while?
York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,'

After a well-graced actor leaves the stage,
Are idly bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious;

Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard; no man cried, God save him;
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home:
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head;
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,—
His face still combating with tears and smiles,
The badges of his grief and patience,-

That had not God, for some strong purpose, steeled
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
And barbarism itself have pitied him.

had by her the duke of Aumerle, and all his other children. In introducing her, the Poet has departed widely from history; for she died in 1394, four or five years before the events related in the present play. After her death, York married Joan, daughter of John Holland, earl of Kent, who survived him about thirty-four years, and had three other husbands.

1 "The painting of this description is so lively, and the words so moving, that I have scarce read any thing comparable to it in any other language." -Dryden; Pref. to Troilus and Cressida.