Scene I. London. A street leading to the Tower.
Enter Queen and Ladies.[1705]
Queen. This way the king will come; this is the way
To Julius Cæsar'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 earth5
Have any resting for her true king's queen.
Enter Richard and Guard.[1706]
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.10
Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand,[1707]
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,
When triumph is become an alehouse guest?15
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,[1708]20
To grim Necessity, and he and I
Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France[1709]
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.[1710]25
Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind[1711]
Transform'd and weaken'd? hath Bolingbroke deposed[1712]
Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw,
And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage30
To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like,
Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod,[1713]
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion and a king of beasts?[1714]
K. Rich. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts.[1715]35
I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:[1716]
Think I am dead, and that even here thou takest,
As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.[1717]
In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire40
With good old folks and let them tell thee tales[1718]
Of woeful ages long ago betid;[1719]
And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs,[1720]
Tell thou the lamentable tale of me[1721]
And send the hearers weeping to their beds:45
For why, the senseless brands will sympathize[1722][1723]
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue[1722][1724]
And in compassion weep the fire out;[1722]
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,[1722]
For the deposing of a rightful king.[1722]50
Enter Northumberland and others.[1725]
North. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed;[1726]
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.