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Reputation, reputation, reputation! Oh, I have lost my reputation! I have lost the immortal part of myself, and what remains is bestial.

      — Othello, Act II Scene 3


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History of Richard II

Act V

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Scene 1. London. A street leading to the Tower.

Scene 2. The DUKE OF YORK’s palace.

Scene 3. A royal palace.

Scene 4. The same.

Scene 5. Pomfret castle.

Scene 6. Windsor castle.


Act V, Scene 1

London. A street leading to the Tower.

      next scene .

[Enter QUEEN and Ladies]

  • Queen. This way the king will come; this is the way
    To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower, 2335
    To whose flint bosom my condemned lord
    Is doom'd a prisoner by proud Bolingbroke:
    Here let us rest, if this rebellious earth
    Have any resting for her true king's queen.
    [Enter KING RICHARD II and Guard] 2340
    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.
    Ah, thou, the model where old Troy did stand, 2345
    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?
  • King Richard II. Join not with grief, fair woman, do not so, 2350
    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,
    To grim Necessity, and he and I 2355
    Will keep a league till death. Hie thee to France
    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.
  • Queen. What, is my Richard both in shape and mind 2360
    Transform'd and weaken'd? hath Bolingbroke deposed
    Thine intellect? hath he been in thy heart?
    The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw,
    And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage
    To be o'erpower'd; and wilt thou, pupil-like, 2365
    Take thy correction mildly, kiss the rod,
    And fawn on rage with base humility,
    Which art a lion and a king of beasts?
  • King Richard II. A king of beasts, indeed; if aught but beasts,
    I had been still a happy king of men. 2370
    Good sometime queen, prepare thee hence for France:
    Think I am dead and that even here thou takest,
    As from my death-bed, thy last living leave.
    In winter's tedious nights sit by the fire
    With good old folks and let them tell thee tales 2375
    Of woeful ages long ago betid;
    And ere thou bid good night, to quit their griefs,
    Tell thou the lamentable tale of me
    And send the hearers weeping to their beds:
    For why, the senseless brands will sympathize 2380
    The heavy accent of thy moving tongue
    And in compassion weep the fire out;
    And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
    For the deposing of a rightful king.

[Enter NORTHUMBERLAND and others]

  • Earl of Northumberland. My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed:
    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.
  • King Richard II. Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal 2390
    The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
    The time shall not be many hours of age
    More than it is ere foul sin gathering head
    Shalt break into corruption: thou shalt think,
    Though he divide the realm and give thee half, 2395
    It is too little, helping him to all;
    And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way
    To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
    Being ne'er so little urged, another way
    To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. 2400
    The love of wicked men converts to fear;
    That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both
    To worthy danger and deserved death.
  • Earl of Northumberland. My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
    Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith. 2405
  • King Richard II. Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate
    A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me,
    And then betwixt me and my married wife.
    Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
    And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. 2410
    Part us, Northumberland; I toward the north,
    Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
    My wife to France: from whence, set forth in pomp,
    She came adorned hither like sweet May,
    Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. 2415
  • Queen. And must we be divided? must we part?
  • Queen. Banish us both and send the king with me.
  • Queen. Then whither he goes, thither let me go. 2420
  • King Richard II. So two, together weeping, make one woe.
    Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
    Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.
    Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
  • Queen. So longest way shall have the longest moans. 2425
  • King Richard II. Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
    And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
    Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
    Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief;
    One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; 2430
    Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
  • Queen. Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part
    To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
    So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
    That I might strive to kill it with a groan. 2435
  • King Richard II. We make woe wanton with this fond delay:
    Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.


. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 2

The DUKE OF YORK’s palace.

      next scene .


  • Duchess of York. My lord, you told me you would tell the rest, 2440
    When weeping made you break the story off,
    of our two cousins coming into London.
  • Duchess of York. At that sad stop, my lord,
    Where rude misgovern'd hands from windows' tops 2445
    Threw dust and rubbish on King Richard's head.
  • Edmund of Langley. Then, as I said, the duke, great Bolingbroke,
    Mounted upon a hot and fiery steed
    Which his aspiring rider seem'd to know,
    With slow but stately pace kept on his course, 2450
    Whilst all tongues cried 'God save thee,
    You would have thought the very windows spake,
    So many greedy looks of young and old
    Through casements darted their desiring eyes 2455
    Upon his visage, and that all the walls
    With painted imagery had said at once
    'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!'
    Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
    Bareheaded, lower than his proud steed's neck, 2460
    Bespake them thus: 'I thank you, countrymen:'
    And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
  • Edmund of Langley. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
    After a well-graced actor leaves the stage, 2465
    Are idly bent on him that enters next,
    Thinking his prattle to be tedious;
    Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
    Did scowl on gentle Richard; no man cried 'God save him!'
    No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home: 2470
    But dust was thrown upon his sacred head:
    Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
    His face still combating with tears and smiles,
    The badges of his grief and patience,
    That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd 2475
    The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted
    And barbarism itself have pitied him.
    But heaven hath a hand in these events,
    To whose high will we bound our calm contents.
    To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now, 2480
    Whose state and honour I for aye allow.
  • Edmund of Langley. Aumerle that was;
    But that is lost for being Richard's friend,
    And, madam, you must call him Rutland now: 2485
    I am in parliament pledge for his truth
    And lasting fealty to the new-made king.


  • Duchess of York. Welcome, my son: who are the violets now
    That strew the green lap of the new come spring? 2490
  • Duke of Aumerle. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not:
    God knows I had as lief be none as one.
  • Edmund of Langley. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time,
    Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime.
    What news from Oxford? hold those justs and triumphs? 2495
  • Edmund of Langley. What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom?
    Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing. 2500
  • Edmund of Langley. No matter, then, who see it;
    I will be satisfied; let me see the writing.
  • Duke of Aumerle. I do beseech your grace to pardon me:
    It is a matter of small consequence, 2505
    Which for some reasons I would not have seen.
  • Duchess of York. What should you fear?
    'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into 2510
    For gay apparel 'gainst the triumph day.
  • Edmund of Langley. Bound to himself! what doth he with a bond
    That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool.
    Boy, let me see the writing.
  • Edmund of Langley. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say.
    [He plucks it out of his bosom and reads it]
    Treason! foul treason! Villain! traitor! slave!
  • Edmund of Langley. Ho! who is within there? 2520
    [Enter a Servant]
    Saddle my horse.
    God for his mercy, what treachery is here!
  • Edmund of Langley. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse. 2525
    Now, by mine honour, by my life, by my troth,
    I will appeach the villain.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Good mother, be content; it is no more
    Than my poor life must answer.

[Re-enter Servant with boots]

  • Duchess of York. Strike him, Aumerle. Poor boy, thou art amazed.
    Hence, villain! never more come in my sight.
  • Duchess of York. Why, York, what wilt thou do?
    Wilt thou not hide the trespass of thine own? 2540
    Have we more sons? or are we like to have?
    Is not my teeming date drunk up with time?
    And wilt thou pluck my fair son from mine age,
    And rob me of a happy mother's name?
    Is he not like thee? is he not thine own? 2545
  • Edmund of Langley. Thou fond mad woman,
    Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy?
    A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament,
    And interchangeably set down their hands,
    To kill the king at Oxford. 2550
  • Duchess of York. He shall be none;
    We'll keep him here: then what is that to him?
  • Edmund of Langley. Away, fond woman! were he twenty times my son,
    I would appeach him.
  • Duchess of York. Hadst thou groan'd for him 2555
    As I have done, thou wouldst be more pitiful.
    But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect
    That I have been disloyal to thy bed,
    And that he is a bastard, not thy son:
    Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: 2560
    He is as like thee as a man may be,
    Not like to me, or any of my kin,
    And yet I love him.


  • Duchess of York. After, Aumerle! mount thee upon his horse;
    Spur post, and get before him to the king,
    And beg thy pardon ere he do accuse thee.
    I'll not be long behind; though I be old,
    I doubt not but to ride as fast as York: 2570
    And never will I rise up from the ground
    Till Bolingbroke have pardon'd thee. Away, be gone!


. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 3

A royal palace.

      next scene .


  • Henry IV. Can no man tell me of my unthrifty son? 2575
    'Tis full three months since I did see him last;
    If any plague hang over us, 'tis he.
    I would to God, my lords, he might be found:
    Inquire at London, 'mongst the taverns there,
    For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, 2580
    With unrestrained loose companions,
    Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes,
    And beat our watch, and rob our passengers;
    Which he, young wanton and effeminate boy,
    Takes on the point of honour to support 2585
    So dissolute a crew.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). My lord, some two days since I saw the prince,
    And told him of those triumphs held at Oxford.
  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). His answer was, he would unto the stews, 2590
    And from the common'st creature pluck a glove,
    And wear it as a favour; and with that
    He would unhorse the lustiest challenger.
  • Henry IV. As dissolute as desperate; yet through both
    I see some sparks of better hope, which elder years 2595
    May happily bring forth. But who comes here?


  • Henry IV. What means our cousin, that he stares and looks
    So wildly? 2600
  • Duke of Aumerle. God save your grace! I do beseech your majesty,
    To have some conference with your grace alone.
  • Henry IV. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here alone.
    [Exeunt HENRY PERCY and Lords]
    What is the matter with our cousin now? 2605
  • Duke of Aumerle. For ever may my knees grow to the earth,
    My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth
    Unless a pardon ere I rise or speak.
  • Henry IV. Intended or committed was this fault?
    If on the first, how heinous e'er it be, 2610
    To win thy after-love I pardon thee.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Then give me leave that I may turn the key,
    That no man enter till my tale be done.
  • Edmund of Langley. [Within] My liege, beware; look to thyself; 2615
    Thou hast a traitor in thy presence there.
  • Henry IV. Villain, I'll make thee safe.


  • Edmund of Langley. [Within] Open the door, secure, foolhardy king: 2620
    Shall I for love speak treason to thy face?
    Open the door, or I will break it open.


  • Henry IV. What is the matter, uncle? speak;
    Recover breath; tell us how near is danger, 2625
    That we may arm us to encounter it.
  • Edmund of Langley. Peruse this writing here, and thou shalt know
    The treason that my haste forbids me show.
  • Duke of Aumerle. Remember, as thou read'st, thy promise pass'd:
    I do repent me; read not my name there 2630
    My heart is not confederate with my hand.
  • Edmund of Langley. It was, villain, ere thy hand did set it down.
    I tore it from the traitor's bosom, king;
    Fear, and not love, begets his penitence:
    Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove 2635
    A serpent that will sting thee to the heart.
  • Henry IV. O heinous, strong and bold conspiracy!
    O loyal father of a treacherous son!
    Thou sheer, immaculate and silver fountain,
    From when this stream through muddy passages 2640
    Hath held his current and defiled himself!
    Thy overflow of good converts to bad,
    And thy abundant goodness shall excuse
    This deadly blot in thy digressing son.
  • Edmund of Langley. So shall my virtue be his vice's bawd; 2645
    And he shall spend mine honour with his shame,
    As thriftless sons their scraping fathers' gold.
    Mine honour lives when his dishonour dies,
    Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies:
    Thou kill'st me in his life; giving him breath, 2650
    The traitor lives, the true man's put to death.
  • Henry IV. What shrill-voiced suppliant makes this eager cry?
  • Duchess of York. A woman, and thy aunt, great king; 'tis I. 2655
    Speak with me, pity me, open the door.
    A beggar begs that never begg'd before.
  • Henry IV. Our scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
    And now changed to 'The Beggar and the King.'
    My dangerous cousin, let your mother in: 2660
    I know she is come to pray for your foul sin.
  • Edmund of Langley. If thou do pardon, whosoever pray,
    More sins for this forgiveness prosper may.
    This fester'd joint cut off, the rest rest sound;
    This let alone will all the rest confound. 2665


  • Duchess of York. O king, believe not this hard-hearted man!
    Love loving not itself none other can.
  • Edmund of Langley. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here?
    Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? 2670


  • Duchess of York. Not yet, I thee beseech:
    For ever will I walk upon my knees, 2675
    And never see day that the happy sees,
    Till thou give joy; until thou bid me joy,
    By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing boy.
  • Edmund of Langley. Against them both my true joints bended be. 2680
    Ill mayst thou thrive, if thou grant any grace!
  • Duchess of York. Pleads he in earnest? look upon his face;
    His eyes do drop no tears, his prayers are in jest;
    His words come from his mouth, ours from our breast:
    He prays but faintly and would be denied; 2685
    We pray with heart and soul and all beside:
    His weary joints would gladly rise, I know;
    Our knees shall kneel till to the ground they grow:
    His prayers are full of false hypocrisy;
    Ours of true zeal and deep integrity. 2690
    Our prayers do out-pray his; then let them have
    That mercy which true prayer ought to have.
  • Duchess of York. Nay, do not say, 'stand up;'
    Say, 'pardon' first, and afterwards 'stand up.' 2695
    And if I were thy nurse, thy tongue to teach,
    'Pardon' should be the first word of thy speech.
    I never long'd to hear a word till now;
    Say 'pardon,' king; let pity teach thee how:
    The word is short, but not so short as sweet; 2700
    No word like 'pardon' for kings' mouths so meet.
  • Duchess of York. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy?
    Ah, my sour husband, my hard-hearted lord,
    That set'st the word itself against the word! 2705
    Speak 'pardon' as 'tis current in our land;
    The chopping French we do not understand.
    Thine eye begins to speak; set thy tongue there;
    Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine ear;
    That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce, 2710
    Pity may move thee 'pardon' to rehearse.
  • Duchess of York. I do not sue to stand;
    Pardon is all the suit I have in hand.
  • Henry IV. I pardon him, as God shall pardon me. 2715
  • Duchess of York. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee!
    Yet am I sick for fear: speak it again;
    Twice saying 'pardon' doth not pardon twain,
    But makes one pardon strong.
  • Henry IV. With all my heart 2720
    I pardon him.
  • Henry IV. But for our trusty brother-in-law and the abbot,
    With all the rest of that consorted crew,
    Destruction straight shall dog them at the heels. 2725
    Good uncle, help to order several powers
    To Oxford, or where'er these traitors are:
    They shall not live within this world, I swear,
    But I will have them, if I once know where.
    Uncle, farewell: and, cousin too, adieu: 2730
    Your mother well hath pray'd, and prove you true.


. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 4

The same.

      next scene .

[Enter EXTON and Servant]

  • Sir Pierce of Exton. Didst thou not mark the king, what words he spake, 2735
    'Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?'
    Was it not so?
  • Servant. These were his very words.
  • Sir Pierce of Exton. 'Have I no friend?' quoth he: he spake it twice,
    And urged it twice together, did he not? 2740
  • Sir Pierce of Exton. And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me,
    And who should say, 'I would thou wert the man'
    That would divorce this terror from my heart;'
    Meaning the king at Pomfret. Come, let's go: 2745
    I am the king's friend, and will rid his foe.


. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 5

Pomfret castle.

      next scene .


  • King Richard II. I have been studying how I may compare
    This prison where I live unto the world: 2750
    And for because the world is populous
    And here is not a creature but myself,
    I cannot do it; yet I'll hammer it out.
    My brain I'll prove the female to my soul,
    My soul the father; and these two beget 2755
    A generation of still-breeding thoughts,
    And these same thoughts people this little world,
    In humours like the people of this world,
    For no thought is contented. The better sort,
    As thoughts of things divine, are intermix'd 2760
    With scruples and do set the word itself
    Against the word:
    As thus, 'Come, little ones,' and then again,
    'It is as hard to come as for a camel
    To thread the postern of a small needle's eye.' 2765
    Thoughts tending to ambition, they do plot
    Unlikely wonders; how these vain weak nails
    May tear a passage through the flinty ribs
    Of this hard world, my ragged prison walls,
    And, for they cannot, die in their own pride. 2770
    Thoughts tending to content flatter themselves
    That they are not the first of fortune's slaves,
    Nor shall not be the last; like silly beggars
    Who sitting in the stocks refuge their shame,
    That many have and others must sit there; 2775
    And in this thought they find a kind of ease,
    Bearing their own misfortunes on the back
    Of such as have before endured the like.
    Thus play I in one person many people,
    And none contented: sometimes am I king; 2780
    Then treasons make me wish myself a beggar,
    And so I am: then crushing penury
    Persuades me I was better when a king;
    Then am I king'd again: and by and by
    Think that I am unking'd by Bolingbroke, 2785
    And straight am nothing: but whate'er I be,
    Nor I nor any man that but man is
    With nothing shall be pleased, till he be eased
    With being nothing. Music do I hear?
    [Music] 2790
    Ha, ha! keep time: how sour sweet music is,
    When time is broke and no proportion kept!
    So is it in the music of men's lives.
    And here have I the daintiness of ear
    To cheque time broke in a disorder'd string; 2795
    But for the concord of my state and time
    Had not an ear to hear my true time broke.
    I wasted time, and now doth time waste me;
    For now hath time made me his numbering clock:
    My thoughts are minutes; and with sighs they jar 2800
    Their watches on unto mine eyes, the outward watch,
    Whereto my finger, like a dial's point,
    Is pointing still, in cleansing them from tears.
    Now sir, the sound that tells what hour it is
    Are clamorous groans, which strike upon my heart, 2805
    Which is the bell: so sighs and tears and groans
    Show minutes, times, and hours: but my time
    Runs posting on in Bolingbroke's proud joy,
    While I stand fooling here, his Jack o' the clock.
    This music mads me; let it sound no more; 2810
    For though it have holp madmen to their wits,
    In me it seems it will make wise men mad.
    Yet blessing on his heart that gives it me!
    For 'tis a sign of love; and love to Richard
    Is a strange brooch in this all-hating world. 2815

[Enter a Groom of the Stable]

  • Groom. Hail, royal prince!
  • King Richard II. Thanks, noble peer;
    The cheapest of us is ten groats too dear.
    What art thou? and how comest thou hither, 2820
    Where no man never comes but that sad dog
    That brings me food to make misfortune live?
  • Groom. I was a poor groom of thy stable, king,
    When thou wert king; who, travelling towards York,
    With much ado at length have gotten leave 2825
    To look upon my sometimes royal master's face.
    O, how it yearn'd my heart when I beheld
    In London streets, that coronation-day,
    When Bolingbroke rode on roan Barbary,
    That horse that thou so often hast bestrid, 2830
    That horse that I so carefully have dress'd!
  • King Richard II. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me, gentle friend,
    How went he under him?
  • Groom. So proudly as if he disdain'd the ground.
  • King Richard II. So proud that Bolingbroke was on his back! 2835
    That jade hath eat bread from my royal hand;
    This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
    Would he not stumble? would he not fall down,
    Since pride must have a fall, and break the neck
    Of that proud man that did usurp his back? 2840
    Forgiveness, horse! why do I rail on thee,
    Since thou, created to be awed by man,
    Wast born to bear? I was not made a horse;
    And yet I bear a burthen like an ass,
    Spurr'd, gall'd and tired by jouncing Bolingbroke. 2845

[Enter Keeper, with a dish]

  • Keeper. Fellow, give place; here is no longer stay.
  • Groom. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall say.


  • Keeper. My lord, will't please you to fall to?
  • Keeper. My lord, I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton, who
    lately came from the king, commands the contrary.
  • King Richard II. The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee! 2855
    Patience is stale, and I am weary of it.

[Beats the keeper]

[Enter EXTON and Servants, armed]

  • King Richard II. How now! what means death in this rude assault? 2860
    Villain, thy own hand yields thy death's instrument.
    [Snatching an axe from a Servant and killing him]
    Go thou, and fill another room in hell.
    [He kills another. Then Exton strikes him down]
    That hand shall burn in never-quenching fire 2865
    That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand
    Hath with the king's blood stain'd the king's own land.
    Mount, mount, my soul! thy seat is up on high;
    Whilst my gross flesh sinks downward, here to die.


  • Sir Pierce of Exton. As full of valour as of royal blood:
    Both have I spill'd; O would the deed were good!
    For now the devil, that told me I did well,
    Says that this deed is chronicled in hell.
    This dead king to the living king I'll bear 2875
    Take hence the rest, and give them burial here.


. previous scene      

Act V, Scene 6

Windsor castle.


[Flourish. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, DUKE OF YORK,] [p]with other Lords, and Attendants]

  • Henry IV. Kind uncle York, the latest news we hear 2880
    Is that the rebels have consumed with fire
    Our town of Cicester in Gloucestershire;
    But whether they be ta'en or slain we hear not.
    Welcome, my lord. what is the news? 2885
  • Earl of Northumberland. First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
    The next news is, I have to London sent
    The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
    The manner of their taking may appear
    At large discoursed in this paper here. 2890
  • Henry IV. We thank thee, gentle Percy, for thy pains;
    And to thy worth will add right worthy gains.


  • Lord Fitzwater. My lord, I have from Oxford sent to London
    The heads of Brocas and Sir Bennet Seely, 2895
    Two of the dangerous consorted traitors
    That sought at Oxford thy dire overthrow.
  • Henry IV. Thy pains, Fitzwater, shall not be forgot;
    Right noble is thy merit, well I wot.


  • Hotspur (Henry Percy). The grand conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
    With clog of conscience and sour melancholy
    Hath yielded up his body to the grave;
    But here is Carlisle living, to abide
    Thy kingly doom and sentence of his pride. 2905
  • Henry IV. Carlisle, this is your doom:
    Choose out some secret place, some reverend room,
    More than thou hast, and with it joy thy life;
    So as thou livest in peace, die free from strife:
    For though mine enemy thou hast ever been, 2910
    High sparks of honour in thee have I seen.

[Enter EXTON, with persons bearing a coffin]

  • Sir Pierce of Exton. Great king, within this coffin I present
    Thy buried fear: herein all breathless lies
    The mightiest of thy greatest enemies, 2915
    Richard of Bordeaux, by me hither brought.
  • Henry IV. Exton, I thank thee not; for thou hast wrought
    A deed of slander with thy fatal hand
    Upon my head and all this famous land.
  • Henry IV. They love not poison that do poison need,
    Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
    I hate the murderer, love him murdered.
    The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
    But neither my good word nor princely favour: 2925
    With Cain go wander through shades of night,
    And never show thy head by day nor light.
    Lords, I protest, my soul is full of woe,
    That blood should sprinkle me to make me grow:
    Come, mourn with me for that I do lament, 2930
    And put on sullen black incontinent:
    I'll make a voyage to the Holy Land,
    To wash this blood off from my guilty hand:
    March sadly after; grace my mournings here;
    In weeping after this untimely bier. 2935