No Fear Act 3 Scene 3
No Fear Act 3 Scene 3 Page 5

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To DUKE OF AUMERLE
130To look so poorly and to speak so fair?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the traitor, and so die?

DUKE OF AUMERLE

No, good my lord; let’s fight with gentle words
Till time lend friends and friends their helpful swords.

DUKE OF AUMERLE

No, my good lord. Let’s do battle with gentle words until we’ve had time to gather our friends and their weapons.

KING RICHARD II

135O God, O God! that e’er this tongue of mine,
That laid the sentence of dread banishment
On yon proud man, should take it off again
With words of sooth! O that I were as great
As is my grief, or lesser than my name!
140Or that I could forget what I have been,
Or not remember what I must be now!
Swell’st thou, proud heart? I’ll give thee scope to beat,
Since foes have scope to beat both thee and me.

KING RICHARD II

Oh, God! It’s unbelievable that after sentencing that proud man to banishment, I would now lift his punishment with soothing words! I wish that I were as great as I am a sad, or that I weren’t a king. I wish I could forget that I’ve been a king, and that I must act like a king now. Is my heart beating faster? I’ll let it beat faster, since my enemies have the ability to beat both my heart and me.

DUKE OF AUMERLE

Northumberland comes back from Bolingbroke.

DUKE OF AUMERLE

Northumberland is coming back from speaking to Bolingbroke.

KING RICHARD II

145What must the king do now? must he submit?
The king shall do it: must he be deposed?
The king shall be contented: must he lose
The name of king? o’ God’s name, let it go:
I’ll give my jewels for a set of beads,
150My gorgeous palace for a hermitage,
My gay apparel for an almsman’s gown,
My figured goblets for a dish of wood,
My sceptre for a palmer’s walking staff,
My subjects for a pair of carved saints
155And my large kingdom for a little grave,
A little little grave, an obscure grave;
Or I’ll be buried in the king’s highway,
Some way of common trade, where subjects’ feet
May hourly trample on their sovereign’s head;
160For on my heart they tread now whilst I live;
And buried once, why not upon my head?
Aumerle, thou weep’st, my tender-hearted cousin!
We’ll make foul weather with despised tears;
Our sighs and they shall lodge the summer corn,
165And make a dearth in this revolting land.
Or shall we play the wantons with our woes,
And make some pretty match with shedding tears?
As thus, to drop them still upon one place,
Till they have fretted us a pair of graves
170Within 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
I talk but idly, and you laugh at me.
Most mighty prince, my Lord Northumberland,
175What says King Bolingbroke? will his majesty
Give Richard leave to live till Richard die?
You make a leg, and Bolingbroke says ay.

KING RICHARD II

What must the king do now? Must the king surrender? He will do it. Must the king be overthrown? He will be happy. Must the king no longer be called king? In God’s name, he’ll renounce it. I’ll trade my jewels for a rosary, my gorgeous palace for a hermit’s dwelling, my nice clothes for a beggar’s shirt, my ornamented cups for a wooden dish, my scepter for a pilgrim’s cane, my subjects for a pair of carved saints, and trade my kingdom for a small and unmarked grave. Or bury me in a busy highway, where my subjects can trample my head constantly, since they are trampling my heart now while I’m still alive. Once I’m buried, why not trample on my head? Aumerle, my softhearted cousin, you are crying. We’ll use our tears to create violent storms, and with our sighs they will beat down the crops and cause famine in this rebellious land. Or shall we play with our woes and devise some clever game with our tears? We could keep them falling continually in one spot until they’ve carved us a pair of graves in the earth. We’d lie in the graves, and the tombstone would say “There lie two relatives who dug their graves with tears.” Wouldn’t that be a good game to play? Well, well, I speak foolishly, and you are laughing at me. My lord Northumberland, mighty prince, what does King Bolingbroke say? Will his majesty allow me to live until I die? You bow, and Bolingbroke decides.

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