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  • Title: Richard II (Quarto 1, 1597)
  • Editor: Catherine Lisak
  • ISBN: 978-1-55058-436-3

    Copyright Internet Shakespeare Editions. This text may be freely used for educational, non-proift purposes; for all other uses contact the Coordinating Editor.
    Author: William Shakespeare
    Editor: Catherine Lisak
    Peer Reviewed

    Richard II (Quarto 1, 1597)

    The Tragedie of
    After our sentence playning comes too late.
    Mow. Then thus I turne me from my countries light,
    470To dwel in solemne shades of endlesse night.
    King. Returne againe, and take an othe with thee,
    Lay on our royall sword your banisht hands,
    Sweare by the duty that y'owe to God,
    (Our part therein we banish with your selues,)
    475To keepe the oath that we administer:
    You neuer shall, so helpe you truth and God,
    Embrace each others loue in banishment,
    Nor neuer looke vpon each others face,
    Nor neuer write, regreete, nor reconcile
    480This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate,
    Nor neuer by aduised purpose meete,
    To plot, contriue, or complot any ill,
    Gainst vs, our state, our subiects, or our land.
    Bul. I sweare.
    485Mow. And I, to keepe al this.
    Bul. Norffolke, so fare as to mine enemy:
    By this time, had the King permitted vs,
    One of our soules had wandred in the aire,
    Banisht this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,
    490As now our flesh is banisht from this land,
    Confesse thy treasons ere thou flie the realme,
    Since thou hast far to go, beare not along
    The clogging burthen of a guiltie soule.
    Mow. No Bullingbrooke, if euer I were traitour,
    495My name be blotted from the booke of life,
    And I from heauen banisht as from hence:
    But what thou art, God, thou, and I, do know,
    And al too soone (I feare) the King shall rew:
    Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,
    500Saue backe to England al the worlds my way. Exit.
    King. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes,
    I see thy grieued heart: thy sad aspect
    Hath from the number of his banisht yeeres
    Pluckt foure away, sixe frozen winters spent,