Page 2923 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little, little grave, an obscure grave;
Or I’ll be buried in the King’s highway, [155]
Some way of common trade where subjects’ feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign’s head,
For on my heart they tread now whilst I live,
And buried once, why not upon my head?
Aumerle, thou weepest, my tender-hearted cousin. [160]
We’ll make foul weather with despisèd tears,
Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn
And make a dearth in this revolting land.
Or shall we play the wantons with our woes,
And make some pretty match with shedding tears, [165]
As thus to drop them still upon one place
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
Within the earth, and therein laid there lies
Two kinsmen digg’d their graves with weeping eyes.
Would not this ill do well? Well, well, I see [170]
I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
What says King Bolingbroke? Will his Majesty
Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says “Ay”. [175]

NORT HUMBERLAND

My lord, in the base-court he doth attend
To speak with you, may it please you to come down.

RICHARD

Down, down I come like glist’ring Phaethon,
Wanting the manage of unruly jades.
In the base-court? Base-court, where kings grow base [180]
To come at traitors’ calls, and do them grace.
In the base-court? Come down: down court, down King,
For night-owls shriek where mounting larks should sing.

BOLINGBROKE

What says his Majesty?

NORT HUMBERLAND