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The coast of Wales. A castle in view.
[Drums; flourish and colors. Enter KING RICHARD II, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE,
DUKE OF AUMERLE, and Soldiers]
KING RICHARD II
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Barklough|ly Cast|le call | they this | at hand?
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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Yea, my | lord: how brooks | your grace | the
air,
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After your | late tos/sing on | the break|ing
seas?
KING RICHARD II
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Needs^must | I like | it well:| I weep | for joy
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To stand | upon | my king|dom once | again.
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Dear^earth,| I do | salute | thee with | my hand,
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Though reb|els wound | thee with | their hors|es' hoofs:
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As a / long-part|ed moth|er with | her child,
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Plays fond/ly with her | tears and | smiles in |
meeting;
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So weep|ing, smil|ing, greet | I thee | my earth,
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And do | thee fav|or with | my roy|al hands.
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Feed^not | thy sove|reign's foe,| my gent|le
earth,
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Nor with | thy sweets,| comfort | his rav|enous
sense:
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But let | thy spiders,| that suck | up thy |
venom,
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And hea|vy-gait|ed toads | lie in | their way,
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Doing | annoy|ance to | the treach|erous feet,
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Which^with | usurp|ing steps | do tramp|le thee.
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Yield stinging net|tles to | mine en|emies;
??
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And when | they from | thy bos|om pluck | a
flower,
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Guard it | I prith/ee with a | lurking | adder,
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Whose^doub|le tongue | may with | a mort|al touch
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Throw death upon | thy sove|reign's en|emies.
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Mock^not | my sense|less con|jura|tion, lords;
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This earth | shall have | a feel|ing, and | these
stones
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Prove armed sol|diers, ere | her nat|ive king
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Shall falt|er und|er foul | rebel|lion's arms.
BISHOP OF CARLISLE
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Fear^not | my lord,| that power | that made | you
king
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Hath power | to keep | you king,| in spite | of
all.
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The means | that heav|en yields | must be |
embraced,
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And not | neglect|ed; else | if heav|en would,
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And we | will not,| heaven's of/fer we | refuse,
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The prof|fered means | of suc|cor, and | redress.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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He means,| my lord,| that we | are too | remiss,
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Whilst^Bol|ingbroke | through our | secur|ity,
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Grows strong and great,| in sub|stance and | in
friends.
KING RICHARD II
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Discom|fortab|le cous|in, knowst | thou not,
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That when | the search|ing eye | of heaven | is
hid
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Behind | the globe,| that lights | the low|er
world,
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Then thieves | and rob|bers range | abroad |
unseen,
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In murd|ers and in // outrage, bold|ly here:
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But when | from und|er this | terrest|rial ball
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He fires | the proud | tops of | the east|ern
pines,
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And darts | his light|ning through ev|ery guil|ty
hole,
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Then murd|ers, treas|ons, and | detest|ed sins
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(The cloak | of night | being plucked | from off
| their backs)
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Stand bare and nak|ed, trem|bling at |
themselves.
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So when | this thief,| this trait|or
Bol|ingbroke,
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Who all | this while | hath rev|elled in | the
night,
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Shall see | us ris|ing in | our throne,| the east,
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His treas|ons will / sit blush|ing in | his face,
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Not ab|le to | endure | the sight | of day;
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But self-|affright|ed, trem|ble at | his sin.
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Not all | the wat|er in the // rough rude sea
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Can wash | the balm | from an | anoint|ed king;
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The breath | of world|ly men | cannot | depose
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The dep|uty | elect|ed by | the Lord:
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For ev|ery man | that Bol|ingbroke | hath
pressed,
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To lift shrewd steel | against | our gold|en
crown,
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Heaven for | his Rich|ard hath | in heaven|ly pay
, 2
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A glor|ious ang|el: then | if ang|els fight,
,
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Weak men*| must fall,| for heaven | still guards
| the right. ??
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Welcome | my lord,| how far | off^lies | your
power?
[Enter EARL OF SALISBURY]
EARL OF SALISBURY
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Nor near,| nor farth|er off,| my gra|cious lord,
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Than this | weak^arm:| discom|fort guides | my
tongue,
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And bids | me speak | of noth|ing but | despair.
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One^day | too late,| I fear |(my nob|le lord)
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Hath cloud|ed all | thy hap|py days | on earth:
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Oh call | back yest|erday,| bid^time | return,
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And thou | shalt have | twelve thousand^fight|ing
men: ??
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Today,| today,| unhap|py day,| too* late,
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Orethrows | thy joys,| friends, fort/une, and |
thy state;
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For all | the Welsh|men hear|ing thou | wert
dead,
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Are gone | to Bol|ingbroke,| dispersed,| and
fled.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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Comfort | my liege,| why looks | your grace | so
pale?
KING RICHARD II
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But now | the blood | of twen|ty thous|and men
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Did tri|umph in | my face,| and they | are fled,
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And till | so much | blood thith/er come^|again,
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Have I | not reas|on to / look pale,| and dead?
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All* souls | that will | be safe,| fly from | my
side,
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For time | hath set | a blot | upon | my pride.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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Comfort | my liege,| remem|ber who | you are.
KING RICHARD II
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I had | forgot | myself.| Am I | not king?
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Awake | thou slug|gard maj|esty,| thou sleepst:
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Is not the | king's name twen|ty thous|and names?
??
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Arm, arm my name:| a pu|ny sub|ject* strikes
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At thy / great glo|ry. Look | not to | the
ground,
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Ye fav|orites of | a king:| are we | not high?
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High be | our thoughts:| I know | my unc|le York
x
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Hath power | enough | to serve | our turn.|
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But who | comes^here? \\
[Enter SIR STEPHEN SCROOP]
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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More* health | and hap|piness | betide | my liege,
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Than can | my care-|tuned tongue deliv|er him.
KING RICHARD II
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Mine^ear | is op|en, and | my heart | prepared:
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The worst | is world|ly loss,| thou canst |
unfold:
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Say, is | my king|dom lost?| Why 'twas | my care:
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And what | loss is / it to | be rid | of care?
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Strives *Bolingbroke | to be | as great | as we?
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Greater | he shall | not be:| if he / serve God,
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We'll serve | him too,/ and be | his fel|low so.
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Revolt | our sub|jects*? That | we can|not mend,
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They break | their faith | to God,| as well | as
us:
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Cry woe, destruc|tion, ru|in, loss,| decay,
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The worst | is death,| and death | will have |
his day.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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Glad am | I, that | your high|ness is / so armed
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To bear | the tid|ings of | calam|ity.
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Like an | unseas|ona|ble stor|my day,
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Which makes | the silv|er riv|ers drown | their
shores,
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As if | the world | were all | dissolved | to
tears:
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So high,| above | his lim|its, swells | the rage
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Of Bol|ingbroke,| covering | your fear|ful land
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With^hard bright steel,| and hearts | harder |
than steel:
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White-beards have^armed | their thin | and
hair|less scalps
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Against thy majesty, and boys with women's
voices, ????
T . T
T , ,
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Strive to speak big,| and clap | their fe|male
joints
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In stiff | unwiel|dy arms:| against | thy crown
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The ve|ry beads|men learn | to bend | their bows
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Of doub|le-fat|al yew:| against | thy state
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Yea* dis|taff^wom|en man|age rus|ty bills:
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Against | thy seat | both young | and old |
rebel,
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And all | goes worse | than I | have power | to
tell.
KING RICHARD II
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Too well,| too well | thou tellst | a tale | so
ill.
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Where is the | Earl of | Wiltshire?| Where is |
Bagot?
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What is | become | of Bush|y? Where | is Green?
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That they | have let | the dang|erous en|emy
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Measure | our con|fines with | such^peace|ful
steps?
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If we | prevail,| their heads | shall pay | for
it.
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I war|rant they have / made peace | with
Bol|ingbroke.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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Peace have | they made | with him | indeed |(my
lord).
KING RICHARD II
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->
O vil|lains, vip|ers, damned | without |
redemp||tion,
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Dogs,| easi|ly won | to fawn | on any man,
??
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T T T
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Snakes in my | heart-blood warmed,| that sting |
my heart,
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Three* Jud|ases,| each^one | thrice^worse | than
Judas,
,
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Would they | make peace? Ter|rible hell | make^war
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Upon | their spot|ted souls | for this | offense.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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Sweet^love |(I see)| changing | his prop|erty,
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Turns to | the sour|est, and / most dead|ly hate:
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Again | uncurse | their souls;| their peace | is
made
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With heads,| and not | with hands:| those whom |
you curse
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Have felt | the worst | of death's | destro|ying
hand,
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And lie | full^low,| graved in | the hol|low
ground.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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2 ,
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Is Bush|y, Green,| and the Earl | of Wilt|shire
dead?
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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Yea all / of them | at Brist|ol lost | their
heads.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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Where is | the duke | my fath|er with | his
power?
KING RICHARD II
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No mat|ter where;| of com|fort no | man^speak:
T T
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Let's talk of graves,| of worms,| and
ep|itaphs;
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Make^dust | our pap|er, and | with rai|ny eyes
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Write sor/row on | the bos|om of | the earth.
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Let's^choose | exec|utors,| and talk | of wills:
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And yet | not so;| for what | can we | bequeath,
,
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Save our | depos|ed bod|ies to | the ground?
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Our lands,| our lives,| and all | are
Bol|ingbroke's,
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And noth|ing can | we call | our own,| but death,
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And that / small mod|el of | the bar|ren earth,
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Which serves | as paste,| and cov|er to | our
bones:
x
T T . T
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For heaven's | sake let us sit | upon | the
ground,
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And tell | sad stor/ies of | the death | of
kings:
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How some | have been | deposed,| some* slain | in
war,
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Some haunt|ed by | the ghosts | they have |
deposed,
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Some^pois|oned by | their wives,| some sleep|ing
killed,
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All murd/ered. For | within | the hol|low crown
,
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That rounds | the mort|al temp|les of | a king,
T T
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Keeps Death his^court,| and there | the ant|ic
sits
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Scoffing | his state,| and grin|ning at | his
pomp,
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Allow|ing him | a breath,| a lit|tle scene,
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To mon|archize,| be feared | and kill | with
looks,
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Infus|ing him | with self | and vain | conceit,
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As if | this flesh,| which walls | about | our
life,
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Were brass | impreg|nable:| and hum|ored thus,
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Comes at | the last,| and with | a lit|tle pin
,
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Bores through his | castle | walls, and |
farewell king.
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, T T . T
Cover | your heads,| and mock | not flesh and
blood
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With sol|emn reve|rence: throw | away | respect,
,
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2 , ->
Tradi|tion, form,| and cer|emon|ious du||ty,
, 2
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For | you have but | mistook | me all | this while:
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I live | with bread | like^you,| feel | want,
T T
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Taste grief, need | friends:| subject|ed thus,
, 2
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How can you | say to me,| I am | a king?
BISHOP OF CARLISLE
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My lord,
,
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Wise men*| nere* sit | and wail | their pres|ent
woes,
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But pres|ently | prevent | the ways | to wail:
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To fear | the foe,| since^fear | oppres|seth
strength,
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T T , ,
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Gives in your weak|ness, strength | unto | your
foe;
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And so | your fol|lies fight | against |
yourself.
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Fear, and | be slain,| no worse | can come | to
fight.
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And fight | and die,| is death | destroy|ing
death,
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Where fear|ing, dy|ing, pays | death^serv|ile*
breath. ??
DUKE OF AUMERLE
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x ,
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My fath|er hath | a power,| inquire | of him,
, ,
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And learn | to make | a bo|dy of | a limb.
KING RICHARD II
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. T T T
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Thou chidst | me well: proud Bol|ingbroke | I
come ??
,
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To change | blows with | thee, for | our day | of
doom:
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This ag|ue fit | of fear | is ov|erblown,
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An ea|sy task | it is | to win | our own.
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x
Say* Scroop,| where lies | our unc|le with | his
power?
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Speak* sweet|ly man,| although | thy looks | be
sour.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
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, ,
Men judge / by the | complex|ion of | the sky
,
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The state | and in|clina|tion of | the day:
,
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So may | you by | my dull | and hea|vy eye:
, ,
, 2 , ,
My tongue | hath but | a heav|ier tale | to say:
,
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,
I play | the tor|turer,| by small | and small
,
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x
To length|en out | the worst,| that must | be
spoken.
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Your unc|le York | is joined | with Bol|ingbroke,
, ,
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And all | your north|ern cast|les yield|ed up,
, , , , ,
And all | your south|ern gent|lemen | in arms
,
,
Upon | his fac|tion.
KING RICHARD II
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,
Thou | hast said | enough.
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Beshrew | thee cous|in, which | didst lead | me
forth
, ,
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Of that / sweet way | I was | in, to | despair:
,
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, ,
What say | you now?| What com|fort have | we now?
x ,
, , ,
By heaven | I'll hate | him ev|erlast|ingly,
, ,
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That bids | me be | of com|fort an|y more.
,
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Go to | Flint Cast/le, there^|I'll pine | away,
. T T T
, , ,
A king, woe's slave,| shall^king|ly woe | obey:
x
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,
That power | I have,| discharge,| and let | them
go
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To ear | the land,| that hath | some hope | to
grow,
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For I | have none.| Let no | man speak | again
,
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To alt|er this,| for couns|el is | but vain.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
, ,
My liege,| one^word.
KING RICHARD II
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,
He does | me doub|le wrong,
, ,
, 2 , ,
That wounds | me with | the flat|teries of | his
tongue.
,
, 2 , ,
,
Discharge | my fol|lowers: let | them hence |
away,
, , ,
, ,
From Rich|ard's night,| to Bol|ingbroke's
| fair*
day.
[Exeunt]