Read Richard II for Free Online Page B
Authors: William Shakespeare
myself,
Though some of you with Pilate 234 wash your hands
Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates
Have here delivered me to my sour 236 cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
NORTHUMBERLAND My lord, dispatch 238 . Read o’er these articles.
KING RICHARD Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see.
And yet salt water blinds them not so much
But they can see a sort 241 of traitors here.
Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
I find myself a traitor with the rest,
For I have given here my soul’s consent
T’undeck 245 the pompous body of a king;
Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
NORTHUMBERLAND My lord—
KING RICHARD No lord of thine, thou haught 249 insulting man,
No, nor no man’s lord.— I have no name, no title;
No, not that name was given me at the font 251 ,
But ’tis usurped. Alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself.
O, that I were a mockery 255 king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bullingbrook,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king — and yet not greatly good —
An if 259 my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what 261 a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his 262 majesty.
BULLINGBROOK Go some 263 of you and fetch a looking-glass.
[
Exit an Attendant
]
NORTHUMBERLAND Read o’er this paper while the glass doth come.
KING RICHARD Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell!
BULLINGBROOK Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.
NORTHUMBERLAND The commons will not then be satisfied.
KING RICHARD They shall be satisfied. I’ll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that’s myself.
Enter one, with a glass
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
Takes the mirror
No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds? O flatt’ring glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
Thou dost beguile 276 me! Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep 278 ten thousand men? Was this the face
That like the sun did make beholders wink 279 ?
Is this the face which faced 280 so many follies,
That was at last out-faced 281 by Bullingbrook?
A brittle glory shineth in this face,
As brittle as the glory is the face.
Throws the mirror down against the ground
For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers 284 .
Mark, silent king, the moral 285 of this sport,
How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face.
BULLINGBROOK The shadow 287 of your sorrow hath destroyed
The shadow of your face.
KING RICHARD Say that again.
The shadow of my sorrow? Ha? Let’s see,
’Tis very true, my grief lies all within,
And these external manner 292 of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv’st
Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I’ll beg one boon 298 ,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
BULLINGBROOK Name it, fair cousin.
KING RICHARD ‘Fair cousin’? I am greater than a king,
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to 305 my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to
Though some of you with Pilate 234 wash your hands
Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates
Have here delivered me to my sour 236 cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
NORTHUMBERLAND My lord, dispatch 238 . Read o’er these articles.
KING RICHARD Mine eyes are full of tears, I cannot see.
And yet salt water blinds them not so much
But they can see a sort 241 of traitors here.
Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
I find myself a traitor with the rest,
For I have given here my soul’s consent
T’undeck 245 the pompous body of a king;
Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
NORTHUMBERLAND My lord—
KING RICHARD No lord of thine, thou haught 249 insulting man,
No, nor no man’s lord.— I have no name, no title;
No, not that name was given me at the font 251 ,
But ’tis usurped. Alack the heavy day,
That I have worn so many winters out,
And know not now what name to call myself.
O, that I were a mockery 255 king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bullingbrook,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king — and yet not greatly good —
An if 259 my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what 261 a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his 262 majesty.
BULLINGBROOK Go some 263 of you and fetch a looking-glass.
[
Exit an Attendant
]
NORTHUMBERLAND Read o’er this paper while the glass doth come.
KING RICHARD Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell!
BULLINGBROOK Urge it no more, my lord Northumberland.
NORTHUMBERLAND The commons will not then be satisfied.
KING RICHARD They shall be satisfied. I’ll read enough,
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that’s myself.
Enter one, with a glass
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
Takes the mirror
No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine,
And made no deeper wounds? O flatt’ring glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
Thou dost beguile 276 me! Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep 278 ten thousand men? Was this the face
That like the sun did make beholders wink 279 ?
Is this the face which faced 280 so many follies,
That was at last out-faced 281 by Bullingbrook?
A brittle glory shineth in this face,
As brittle as the glory is the face.
Throws the mirror down against the ground
For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers 284 .
Mark, silent king, the moral 285 of this sport,
How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face.
BULLINGBROOK The shadow 287 of your sorrow hath destroyed
The shadow of your face.
KING RICHARD Say that again.
The shadow of my sorrow? Ha? Let’s see,
’Tis very true, my grief lies all within,
And these external manner 292 of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
There lies the substance: and I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv’st
Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I’ll beg one boon 298 ,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
BULLINGBROOK Name it, fair cousin.
KING RICHARD ‘Fair cousin’? I am greater than a king,
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects; being now a subject,
I have a king here to 305 my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to