Internet Shakespeare Editions

Author: William Shakespeare
Editor: Catherine Lisak
Not Peer Reviewed

Richard II (Modern)

Enter King [Richard] with [Bagot, Green,] etc. at one door, and the
575Lord Aumerle at another.
King Richard We did observe. -- Cousin Aumerle,
How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
Aumerle I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,
But to the next highway, and there I left him.
580King Richard And say, what store of parting tears were shed?
Aumerle Faith, none for me, except the northeast wind,
Which then blew bitterly against our faces,
Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
585King Richard What said our cousin when you parted with him?
"Farewell." -- And, for my heart disdainèd that my tongue
Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such grief
That words seemed buried in my sorrow's grave.
590Marry, would the word "farewell" have lengthened hours
And added years to his short banishment,
He should have had a volume of farewells;
But since it would not, he had none of me.
King Richard He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
595When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green
Observed his courtship to the common people.
How he did seem to dive into their hearts
600With 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.
605Off 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,
610And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
Green Well, he is gone, and with him go these thoughts.
Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland,
Expedient manage must be made, my liege,
Ere further leisure yield them further means
615For their advantage and your highness' loss.
King Richard 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 enforced to farm our royal realm,
620The 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
625And send them after to supply our wants;
For we will make for Ireland presently. Enter Bushy. Bushy, what news?
Bushy Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,
630Suddenly taken, and hath sent post-haste
To entreat your majesty to visit him.
King Richard Where lies he?
Bushy At Ely house.
King Richard Now put it, God, in the physician's mind
635To 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!
[All] Amen!