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Test3

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KING RICHARD II:
'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 my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE:
Yet ask.
KING RICHARD II:
And shall I have?
HENRY BOLINGBROKE:
You shall.
KING RICHARD II:
Then give me leave to go.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE:
Whither?
KING RICHARD II:
Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE:
Go, some of you convey him to the Tower.
KING RICHARD II:
O, good! convey? conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king's fall.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE:
On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation: lords, prepare yourselves.
Abbot:
A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
BISHOP OF CARLISLE:
The woe's to come; the children yet unborn.
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
DUKE OF AUMERLE:
You holy clergymen, is there no plot
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
Abbot:
My lord,
Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament
To bury mine intents, but also to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise.
I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow and your eyes of tears:
Come home with me to supper; and I'll lay
A plot shall show us all a merry day.
QUEEN:
This way the king will come; this is the way
To Julius Caesar's ill-erected tower,
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.
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,
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,
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
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
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,
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: