Page 2914 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

Revolt our subjects? That we cannot mend. [100]
They break their faith to God as well as us.
Cry woe, destruction, ruin, and decay,
The worst is death, and death will have his day.

SCROPE

Glad am I that your Highness is so arm’d
To bear the tidings of calamity. [105]
Like an unseasonable stormy day
Which makes the silver rivers drown their shores
As if the world were all dissolv’d to tears,
So high above his limits swells the rage
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful land [110]
With hard bright steel, and hearts harder than steel.
White beards have armed their thin and hairless scalps
Against thy majesty; boys with women’s voices
Strive to speak big and clap their female joints
In stiff unwieldy arms against thy crown. [115]
Thy very beadsmen learn to bend their bows
Of double-fatal yew against thy state.
Yea, distaff-women manage rusty bills
Against thy seat. Both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell. [120]

RICHARD

Too well, too well thou tell’st a tale so ill.
Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? Where is Bagot?
What is become of Bushy, where is Green,
That they have let the dangerous enemy
Measure our confines with such peaceful steps? [125]
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.

SCROPE

Peace have they made with him indeed, my lord.

RICHARD

O, villains, vipers, damn’d without redemption!
Dogs easily won to fawn on any man! [130]
Snakes in my heart-blood warmed, that sting my heart!