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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
    They might haue liude to beare, and he to taste
    1875Their fruits of duety: superfluous branches
    We loppe away, that bearing boughes may liue:
    Had he done so, himselfe had borne the crowne,
    Which waste of idle houres hath quite throwne downe.
    Man. What, thinke you the King shall be deposed?
    1880Gard. Deprest he is already, and deposde
    Tis doubt he will be. Letters came last night
    To a deare friend of the good Duke of Yorkes,
    That tell blacke tidings.
    Queene Oh I am prest to death through want of speaking
    1885Thou old Adams likenesse set to dresse this garden,
    How dares thy harsh rude tong sound this vnpleasing news?
    What Eue? what serpent hath suggested thee
    To make a second fall of cursed man?
    Why dost thou say king Richard is deposde?
    1890Darst thou thou little better thing than earth
    Diuine his downefall? say, where, when, and how,
    Canst thou by this ill tidings speake thou wretch?
    Gard. Pardon me Madam, little ioy haue I
    To breathe this newes, yet what I say is true:
    1895King Richard he is in the mightie hold
    Of Bullingbrooke: their fortunes both are weyde
    In your Lo. scale is nothing but himselfe,
    And some few vanities that make him light:
    But in the ballance of great Bullingbrooke,
    1900Besides himselfe are all the English peeres,
    And with that oddes he weighs King Richard downe;
    Post you to London and you will find it so,
    I speake no more than euery one doth know.
    Queene Nimble Mischance that arte so light of foote,
    1905Doth not thy embassage belong to me,
    And am I last that knowes it? Oh thou thinkest
    To serue me last that I may longest keepe
    Thy sorrow in my breast: come Ladies go
    To meete at London Londons king in wo.
    1910What, was I borne to this that my sad looke