London. A street leading to the Tower.
London. A street leading to the Tower of London.
Enter QUEEN and Ladies.
The QUEEN and ladies enter.
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.
The king will come this way as he is taken to the tower, where proud Bolingbroke condemned him to be held a prisoner. Let’s rest here, if there is anywhere on this rebellious earth where I can rest.
Enter KING RICHARD II and Guard
KING RICHARD II and guards enter.
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?
But wait, but look, or rather don’t look or you will wither. No, but look up, and let pity wash over you and your tears of love bathe him. Ah, you, fallen in greatness like
The city besieged and destroyed by the Greeks in the Trojan War.Troy, the epitome of honor. You look like a shell of King Richard and not King Richard himself. Oh, why should grief live in you, who are so honorable and royal, while triumph lives within Bolingbroke, a commoner?
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.
KING RICHARD II
Fair lady, don’t grieve as if I were already dead. Think of our past as a happy dream and that we have simply awoken to reality. I’ve had to bow to necessity, and I’ll stay that way until I die. Go quickly to France and join a convent. Our only hope is to become holy and be crowned in heaven, since our lives here have ended in such ruin.
Take a Study Break!