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SIR STEPHEN SCROOP: |
Men judge by the complexion of the sky |
The state and inclination of the day: |
So may you by my dull and heavy eye, |
My tongue hath but a heavier tale to say. |
I play the torturer, by small and small |
To lengthen out the worst that must be spoken: |
Your uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke, |
And all your northern castles yielded up, |
And all your southern gentlemen in arms |
Upon his party. |
KING RICHARD II: |
Thou hast said enough. |
Beshrew thee, cousin, which didst lead me forth |
Of that sweet way I was in to despair! |
What say you now? what comfort have we now? |
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly |
That bids me be of comfort any more. |
Go to Flint castle: there I'll pine away; |
A king, woe's slave, shall kingly woe obey. |
That power I have, discharge; and let them go |
To ear the land that hath some hope to grow, |
For I have none: let no man speak again |
To alter this, for counsel is but vain. |
DUKE OF AUMERLE: |
My liege, one word. |
KING RICHARD II: |
He does me double wrong |
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue. |
Discharge my followers: let them hence away, |
From Richard's night to Bolingbroke's fair day. |
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: |
So that by this intelligence we learn |
The Welshmen are dispersed, and Salisbury |
Is gone to meet the king, who lately landed |
With some few private friends upon this coast. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: |
The news is very fair and good, my lord: |
Richard not far from hence hath hid his head. |
DUKE OF YORK: |
It would beseem the Lord Northumberland |
To say 'King Richard:' alack the heavy day |
When such a sacred king should hide his head. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: |
Your grace mistakes; only to be brief |
Left I his title out. |
DUKE OF YORK: |
The time hath been, |
Would you have been so brief with him, he would |
Have been so brief with you, to shorten you, |
For taking so the head, your whole head's length. |
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: |
Mistake not, uncle, further than you should. |
DUKE OF YORK: |
Take not, good cousin, further than you should. |
Lest you mistake the heavens are o'er our heads. |
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: |
I know it, uncle, and oppose not myself |
Against their will. But who comes here? |
Welcome, Harry: what, will not this castle yield? |
HENRY PERCY: |
The castle royally is mann'd, my lord, |
Against thy entrance. |
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: |
Royally! |
Why, it contains no king? |
HENRY PERCY: |
Yes, my good lord, |
It doth contain a king; King Richard lies |
Within the limits of yon lime and stone: |
And with him are the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury, |
Sir Stephen Scroop, besides a clergyman |
Of holy reverence; who, I cannot learn. |
NORTHUMBERLAND: |
O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle. |
HENRY BOLINGBROKE: |
Noble lords, |
Go to the rude ribs of that ancient castle; |
Through brazen trumpet send the breath of parley |
Into his ruin'd ears, and thus deliver: |
Henry Bolingbroke |
On both his knees doth kiss King Richard's hand |
And sends allegiance and true faith of heart |
To his most royal person, hither come |
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