2254What euer I shall happen to deuise.

2255I see your Browes are full of Discontent,

2256Your Heart of Sorrow, and your Eyes of Teares.

2257Come home with me to Supper, Ile lay a Plot

2258Shall shew vs all a merry day. Exeunt.

2261Qu. This way the King will come: this is the way

2262To Iulius Caesars ill-erected Tower:

2263To whose flint Bosome, my condemned Lord

2264Is doom'd a Prisoner, by prowd Bullingbrooke.

2265Here let vs rest, if this rebellious Earth

2266Haue any resting for her true Kings Queene.

2268But soft, but see, or rather doe not see,

2269My faire Rose wither: yet looke vp; behold,

2270That you in pittie may dissolue to dew,

2271And wash him fresh againe with true-loue Teares.

2272Ah thou, the Modell where old Troy did stand,

2273Thou Mappe of Honor, thou King Richards Tombe,

2274And not King Richard: thou most beauteous Inne,

2275Why should hard-fauor'd Griefe be lodg'd in thee,

2276When Triumph is become an Ale-house Guest.

2277Rich. Ioyne not with griefe, faire Woman, do not so,

2278To make my end too sudden: learne good Soule,

2279To thinke our former State a happie Dreame,

2280From which awak'd, the truth of what we are,

2281Shewes vs but this. I am sworne Brother (Sweet)

2282To grim Necessitie; and hee and I

2283Will keepe a League till Death. High thee to France,

2284And Cloyster thee in some Religious House:

2285Our holy liues must winne a new Worlds Crowne,

2286Which our prophane houres here haue stricken downe.

2287Qu. What, is my Richard both in shape and minde

2288Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bullingbrooke

2289Depos'd thine Intellect? hath he beene in thy Heart?

2290The Lyon dying, thrusteth forth his Paw,

2291And wounds the Earth, if nothing else, with rage

2292To be o're-powr'd: and wilt thou, Pupill-like,

2293Take thy Correction mildly, kisse the Rodde,

2294And fawne on Rage with base Humilitie,

2295Which art a Lyon, and a King of Beasts?

2296Rich. A King of Beasts indeed: if aught but Beasts,

2297I had beene still a happy King of Men.

2298Good (sometime Queene) prepare thee hence for France:

2299Thinke I am dead, and that euen here thou tak'st,

2300As from my Death-bed, my last liuing leaue.

2301In Winters tedious Nights sit by the fire

2302With good old folkes, and let them tell thee Tales

2303Of wofull Ages, long agoe betide:

2304And ere thou bid good-night, to quit their griefe,

2305Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,

2306And send the hearers weeping to their Beds:

2307For why? the sencelesse Brands will sympathize

2308The heauie accent of thy mouing Tongue,

2309And in compassion, weepe the fire out:

2310And some will mourne in ashes, some coale-black,

2311For the deposing of a rightfulll King.

2313North. My Lord, the mind of Bullingbrooke is chang'd.

2314You must to Pomfret, not vnto the Tower.

2315And Madame, there is order ta'ne for you:

2316With all swift speed, you must away to France.

2317Rich. Northumberland, thou Ladder wherewithall

2318The mounting Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne,

2319The time shall not be many houres of age,

2320More then it is, ere foule sinne, gathering head,

2321Shall breake into corruption: thou shalt thinke,

2322Though he diuide the Realme, and giue thee halfe,

2323It is too little, helping him to all:

2324He shall thinke, that thou which know'st the way

2325To plant vnrightfull Kings, wilt know againe,

2326Being ne're so little vrg'd another way,

2327To pluck him headlong from the vsurped Throne.

2328The Loue of wicked friends conuerts to Feare;

2329That Feare, to Hate; and Hate turnes one, or both,

2330To worthie Danger, and deserued Death.

2331North. My guilt be on my Head, and there an end:

2332Take leaue, and part, for you must part forthwith.

2333Rich. Doubly diuorc'd? (bad men) ye violate

2334A two-fold Marriage; 'twixt my Crowne, and me,

2335And then betwixt me, and my marryed Wife.

2336Let me vn-kisse the Oath 'twixt thee, and me;

2337And yet not so, for with a Kisse 'twas made.

2338Part vs, Northumberland: I, towards the North,

2339Where shiuering Cold and Sicknesse pines the Clyme:

2340My Queene to France: from whence, set forth in pompe,

2341She came adorned hither like sweet May;

2342Sent back like Hollowmas, or short'st of day.

2343Qu. And must we be diuided? must we part?

2344Rich. I, hand from hand (my Loue) and heart frō heart.

2345Qu. Banish vs both, and send the King with me.

2346North. That were some Loue, but little Pollicy.

2347Qu. Then whither he goes, thither let me goe.

2348Rich. So two together weeping, make one Woe.

2349Weepe thou for me in France; I, for thee heere:

2350Better farre off, then neere, be ne're the neere.

2351Goe, count thy Way with Sighes; I, mine with Groanes.

2352Qu. So longest Way shall haue the longest Moanes.

2353Rich. Twice for one step Ile groane, y^e Way being short,

2354And peece the Way out with a heauie heart.

2355Come, come, in wooing Sorrow let's be briefe,

2356Since wedding it, there is such length in Griefe:

2357One Kisse shall stop our mouthes, and dumbely part;

2358Thus giue I mine, and thus take I thy heart.

2359Qu. Giue me mine owne againe: 'twere no good part,

2360To take on me to keepe, and kill thy heart.

2361So, now I haue mine owne againe, be gone,

2362That I may striue to kill it with a groane.

2363Rich. We make Woe wanton with this fond delay:

2364Once more adieu; the rest, let Sorrow say. Exeunt.

2367Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,

2368When weeping made you breake the story off,

2369Of our two Cousins comming into London.

2370Yorke. Where did I leaue?

2371Duch. At that sad stoppe, my Lord,

2372Where rude mis-gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,

2373Threw dust and rubbish on King Richards head.

d ₃ Yorke. Then