TPTT The Tragedy of King Richard the Second: ACT II
Introduction
ACT I
ACT II
SCENE I. Ely House.
SCENE II. The palace.
SCENE III. Wilds in Gloucestershire.
SCENE IV. A camp in Wales.
ACT III
ACT IV
ACT V
About the Play
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SCENE II. The palace.
Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and BAGOT
BUSHY
      Madam, your majesty is too much sad:
      You promised, when you parted with the king,
      To lay aside life-harming heaviness
      And entertain a cheerful disposition.
QUEEN
5     To please the king I did; to please myself
      I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
      Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
      Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
      As my sweet Richard: yet again, methinks,
10    Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
      Is coming towards me, and my inward soul
      With nothing trembles: at some thing it grieves,
      More than with parting from my lord the king.
BUSHY
      Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows,
15    Which shows like grief itself, but is not so;
      For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
      Divides one thing entire to many objects;
      Like perspectives, which rightly gazed upon
      Show nothing but confusion, eyed awry
20    Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
      Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
      Find shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail;
      Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
      Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
25    More than your lord's departure weep not: more's not seen;
      Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
      Which for things true weeps things imaginary.
QUEEN
      It may be so; but yet my inward soul
      Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be,
30    I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad
      As, though on thinking on no thought I think,
      Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
BUSHY
      'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.
QUEEN
      'Tis nothing less: conceit is still derived
35    From some forefather grief; mine is not so,
      For nothing had begot my something grief;
      Or something hath the nothing that I grieve:
      'Tis in reversion that I do possess;
      But what it is, that is not yet known; what
40    I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.
Enter GREEN
GREEN
      God save your majesty! and well met, gentlemen:
      I hope the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.
QUEEN
      Why hopest thou so? 'tis better hope he is;
      For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope:
45    Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipp'd?
GREEN
      That he, our hope, might have retired his power,
      And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
      Who strongly hath set footing in this land:
      The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
50    And with uplifted arms is safe arrived
      At Ravenspurgh.
QUEEN
      Now God in heaven forbid!
GREEN
      Ah, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,
      The Lord Northumberland, his son young Henry Percy,
55    The Lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
      With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
BUSHY
      Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland
      And all the rest revolted faction traitors?
GREEN
      We have: whereupon the Earl of Worcester
60    Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
      And all the household servants fled with him
      To Bolingbroke.
QUEEN
      So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe,
      And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir:
65    Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
      And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
      Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
BUSHY
      Despair not, madam.
QUEEN
      Who shall hinder me?
70    I will despair, and be at enmity
      With cozening hope: he is a flatterer,
      A parasite, a keeper back of death,
      Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
      Which false hope lingers in extremity.
Enter DUKE OF YORK
GREEN
75    Here comes the Duke of York.
QUEEN
      With signs of war about his aged neck:
      O, full of careful business are his looks!
      Uncle, for God's sake, speak comfortable words.
DUKE OF YORK
      Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts:
80    Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
      Where nothing lives but crosses, cares and grief.
      Your husband, he is gone to save far off,
      Whilst others come to make him lose at home:
      Here am I left to underprop his land,
85    Who, weak with age, cannot support myself:
      Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
      Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
Enter a Servant
Servant
      My lord, your son was gone before I came.
DUKE OF YORK
      He was? Why, so! go all which way it will!
90    The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
      And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
      Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloucester;
      Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:
      Hold, take my ring.
Servant
95    My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship,
      To-day, as I came by, I called there;
      But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
DUKE OF YORK
      What is't, knave?
Servant
      An hour before I came, the duchess died.
DUKE OF YORK
100   God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
      Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
      I know not what to do: I would to God,
      So my untruth had not provoked him to it,
      The king had cut off my head with my brother's.
105   What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland?
      How shall we do for money for these wars?
      Come, sister,--cousin, I would say--pray, pardon me.
      Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts
      And bring away the armour that is there.

Exit Servant

110   Gentlemen, will you go muster men?
      If I know how or which way to order these affairs
      Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
      Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen:
      The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath
115   And duty bids defend; the other again
      Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd,
      Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
      Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll
      Dispose of you.
120   Gentlemen, go, muster up your men,
      And meet me presently at Berkeley.
      I should to Plashy too;
      But time will not permit: all is uneven,
      And every thing is left at six and seven.
Exeunt DUKE OF YORK and QUEEN
BUSHY
125   The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,
      But none returns. For us to levy power
      Proportionable to the enemy
      Is all unpossible.
GREEN
      Besides, our nearness to the king in love
130   Is near the hate of those love not the king.
BAGOT
      And that's the wavering commons: for their love
      Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them
      By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
BUSHY
      Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd.
BAGOT
135   If judgement lie in them, then so do we,
      Because we ever have been near the king.
GREEN
      Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle:
      The Earl of Wiltshire is already there.
BUSHY
      Thither will I with you; for little office
140   The hateful commons will perform for us,
      Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.
      Will you go along with us?
BAGOT
      No; I will to Ireland to his majesty.
      Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain,
145   We three here art that ne'er shall meet again.
BUSHY
      That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.
GREEN
      Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
      Is numbering sands and drinking oceans dry:
      Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
150   Farewell at once, for once, for all, and ever.
BUSHY
      Well, we may meet again.
BAGOT
      I fear me, never.
Exeunt
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