Page 2944 - Shakespeare - Vol. 1

QUEEN

What, is my Richard both in shape and mind
Transform’d and weaken’d? Hath Bolingbroke
Depos’d thine intellect? Hath he been in thy heart?
The lion dying thrusteth forth his paw
And wounds the earth, if nothing else, with rage [30]
To be o’erpower’d. And wilt thou pupil-like
Take the correction mildly, kiss the rod,
And fawn on rage with base humility,
Which art a lion and the king of beasts?

RICHARD

A king of beasts indeed! If aught but beasts [35]
I had been still a happy king of men.
Good sometimes queen, prepare thee hence for France.
Think I am dead, and that even here thou takest
As from my deathbed thy last living leave.
In winter’s tedious nights sit by the fire [40]
With good old folks, and let them tell thee tales
Of woeful ages long ago betid;
And ere thou bid goodnight, to quite their griefs
Tell thou the lamentable tale of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their beds; [45]
For why the senseless brands will sympathize
The heavy accent of thy moving tongue,
And in compassion weep the fire out;
And some will mourn in ashes, some coal-black,
For the deposing of a rightful king. [50]

Enter Northumberland.

NORT HUMBERLAND

My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is chang’d.
You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
And, madam, there is order ta’en for you:
With all swift speed you must away to France.

RICHARD

Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal [55]
The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
The time shall not be many hours of age