prompt:
Chapter: Scaena Tertia.

Enter with Drum and Colours, Bullingbrooke, Yorke,
Northumberland,
Attendants.

  Bull. So that by this intelligence we learne
The Welchmen are dispers'd, and Salisbury
Is gone to meet the King, who lately landed
With some few priuate friends, vpon this Coast

   North. The newes is very faire and good, my Lord,
Richard, not farre from hence, hath hid his head

   York. It would beseeme the Lord Northumberland,
To say King Richard: alack the heauie day,
When such a sacred King should hide his head

   North. Your Grace mistakes: onely to be briefe,
Left I his Title out

   York. The time hath beene,
Would you haue beene so briefe with him, he would
Haue beene so briefe with you, to shorten you,
For taking so the Head, your whole heads length

   Bull. Mistake not (Vnckle) farther then you should

   York. Take not (good Cousin) farther then you should.
Least you mistake the Heauens are ore your head

   Bull. I know it (Vnckle) and oppose not my selfe
Against their will. But who comes here?
Enter Percie.

Welcome Harry: what, will not this Castle yeeld?
  Per. The Castle royally is mann'd, my Lord,
Against thy entrance

   Bull. Royally? Why, it containes no King?
  Per. Yes (my good Lord)
It doth containe a King: King Richard lyes
Within the limits of yond Lime and Stone,
And with him, the Lord Aumerle, Lord Salisbury,
Sir Stephen Scroope, besides a Clergie man
Of holy reuerence; who, I cannot learne

   North. Oh, belike it is the Bishop of Carlile

   Bull. Noble Lord,
Goe to the rude Ribs of that ancient Castle,
Through Brazen Trumpet send the breath of Parle
Into his ruin'd Eares, and thus deliuer:
Henry Bullingbrooke vpon his knees doth kisse
King Richards hand, and sends allegeance
And true faith of heart to his Royall Person: hither come
Euen at his feet, to lay my Armes and Power,
Prouided, that my Banishment repeal'd,
And Lands restor'd againe, be freely graunted:
If not, Ile vse th 'aduantage of my Power,
And lay the Summers dust with showers of blood,
Rayn'd from the wounds of slaughter'd Englishmen;
The which, how farre off from the mind of Bullingbrooke
It is, such Crimson Tempest should bedrench
The fresh greene Lap of faire King Richards Land,
My stooping dutie tenderly shall shew.
Goe signifie as much, while here we march
Vpon the Grassie Carpet of this Plaine:
Let's march without the noyse of threatning Drum,
That from this Castles tatter'd Battlements
Our faire Appointments may be well perus'd.
Me thinkes King Richard and my selfe should meet
With no lesse terror then the Elements
Of Fire and Water, when their thundring smoake
At meeting teares the cloudie Cheekes of Heauen:
Be he the fire, Ile be the yeelding Water;
The Rage be his, while on the Earth I raine
My Waters on the Earth, and not on him.
March on, and marke King Richard how he lookes.

Parle without, and answere within: then a Flourish. Enter on the
Walls,
Richard, Carlile, Aumerle, Scroop, Salisbury.

See, see, King Richard doth himselfe appeare
As doth the blushing discontented Sunne,
From out the fierie Portall of the East,
When he perceiues the enuious Clouds are bent
To dimme his glory, and to staine the tract
Of his bright passage to the Occident

   York. Yet lookes he like a King: behold his Eye
(As bright as is the Eagles) lightens forth
Controlling Maiestie: alack, alack, for woe,
That any harme should staine so faire a shew

   Rich. Wee are amaz'd, and thus long haue we stood
To watch the fearefull bending of thy knee,
Because we thought our selfe thy lawfull King:
And if we be, how dare thy ioynts forget
To pay their awfull dutie to our presence?
If we be not, shew vs the Hand of God,
That hath dismiss'd vs from our Stewardship,
For well wee know, no Hand of Blood and Bone
Can gripe the sacred Handle of our Scepter,
Vnlesse he doe prophane, steale, or vsurpe.
And though you thinke, that all, as you haue done,
Haue torne their Soules, by turning them from vs,
And we are barren, and bereft of Friends:
Yet know, my Master, God Omnipotent,
Is mustring in his Clouds, on our behalfe,
Armies of Pestilence, and they shall strike
Your Children yet vnborne, and vnbegot,
That lift your Vassall Hands against my Head,
And threat the Glory of my precious Crowne.
Tell Bullingbrooke, for yond me thinkes he is,
That euery stride he makes vpon my Land,
Is dangerous Treason: He is come to ope
The purple Testament of bleeding Warre;
But ere the Crowne he lookes for, liue in peace,
Ten thousand bloody crownes of Mothers Sonnes
Shall ill become the flower of Englands face,
Change the complexion of her Maid-pale Peace
To Scarlet Indignation, and bedew
Her Pastors Grasse with faithfull English Blood

   North. The King of Heauen forbid our Lord the King
Should so with ciuill and vnciuill Armes
Be rush'd vpon: Thy thrice-noble Cousin,
Harry Bullingbrooke, doth humbly kisse thy hand,
And by the Honorable Tombe he sweares,
That stands vpon your Royall Grandsires Bones,
And by the Royalties of both your Bloods,
(Currents that spring from one most gracious Head)
And by the buried Hand of Warlike Gaunt,
And by the Worth and Honor of himselfe,
Comprising all that may be sworne, or said,
His comming hither hath no further scope,
Then for his Lineall Royalties, and to begge
Infranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy Royall partie graunted once,
His glittering Armes he will commend to Rust,
His barbed Steedes to Stables, and his heart
To faithfull seruice of your Maiestie:
This sweares he, as he is a Prince, is iust,
And as I am a Gentleman, I credit him

   Rich. Northumberland, say thus: The King returnes,
His Noble Cousin is right welcome hither,
And all the number of his faire demands
Shall be accomplish'd without contradiction:
With all the gracious vtterance thou hast,
Speake to his gentle hearing kind commends.
We doe debase our selfe (Cousin) doe we not,
To looke so poorely, and to speake so faire?
Shall we call back Northumberland, and send
Defiance to the Traytor, and so die?
  Aum. No, good my Lord, let's fight with gentle words,
Till time lend friends, and friends their helpeful Swords

   Rich. Oh God, oh God, that ere this tongue of mine,
That layd the Sentence of dread Banishment
On yond prowd man, should take it off againe
With words of sooth: Oh that I were as great
As is my Griefe, or lesser then my Name,
Or that I could forget what I haue beene,
Or not remember what I must be now:
Swell'st thou prowd heart? Ile giue thee scope to beat,
Since Foes haue scope to beat both thee and me

   Aum. Northumberland comes backe from Bullingbrooke

   Rich. What must the King doe now? must he submit?
The King shall doe it: Must he be depos'd?
The King shall be contented: Must he loose
The Name of King? o' Gods Name let it goe.
Ile giue my Iewels for a sett of Beades,
My gorgeous Pallace, for a Hermitage,
My gay Apparrell, for an Almes-mans Gowne,
My figur'd Goblets, for a Dish of Wood,
My Scepter, for a Palmers walking Staffe,
My Subiects, for a payre of carued Saints,
And my large Kingdome, for a little Graue,
A little little Graue, an obscure Graue.
Or Ile be buryed in the Kings high-way,
Some way of common Trade, where Subiects feet
May howrely trample on their Soueraignes Head:
For on my heart they tread now, whilest I liue;
And buryed once, why not vpon my Head?
Aumerle, thou weep'st (my tender-hearted Cousin)
Wee'le make foule Weather with despised Teares:
Our sighes, and they, shall lodge the Summer Corne,
And make a Dearth in this reuolting Land.
Or shall we play the Wantons with our Woes,
And make some prettie Match, with shedding Teares?
As thus: to drop them still vpon one place,
Till they haue fretted vs a payre of Graues,
Within the Earth: and therein lay'd, there lyes
Two Kinsmen, digg'd their Graues with weeping Eyes?
Would not this ill, doe well? Well, well, I see
I talke but idly, and you mock at mee.
Most mightie Prince, my Lord Northumberland,
What sayes King Bullingbrooke? Will his Maiestie
Giue Richard leaue to liue, till Richard die?
You make a Legge, and Bullingbrooke sayes I

   North. My Lord, in the base Court he doth attend
To speake with you, may it please you to come downe

   Rich. Downe, downe I come, like glist'ring Phaeton,
Wanting the manage of vnruly Iades.
In the base Court? base Court, where Kings grow base,
To come at Traytors Calls, and doe them Grace.
In the base Court come down: down Court, down King,
For night-Owls shrike, where mou[n]ting Larks should sing

   Bull. What sayes his Maiestie?
  North. Sorrow, and griefe of heart
Makes him speake fondly, like a frantick man:
Yet he is come

   Bull. Stand all apart,
And shew faire dutie to his Maiestie.
My gracious Lord

   Rich. Faire Cousin,
You debase your Princely Knee,
To make the base Earth prowd with kissing it.
Me rather had, my Heart might feele your Loue,
Then my vnpleas'd Eye see your Courtesie.
Vp Cousin, vp, your Heart is vp, I know,
Thus high at least, although your Knee be low

   Bull. My gracious Lord, I come but for mine
owne

   Rich. Your owne is yours, and I am yours, and
all

   Bull. So farre be mine, my most redoubted Lord,
As my true seruice shall deserue your loue

   Rich. Well you deseru'd:
They well deserue to haue,
That know the strong'st, and surest way to get.
Vnckle giue me your Hand: nay, drie your Eyes,
Teares shew their Loue, but want their Remedies.
Cousin, I am too young to be your Father,
Though you are old enough to be my Heire.
What you will haue, Ile giue, and willing to,
For doe we must, what force will haue vs doe.
Set on towards London:
Cousin, is it so?
  Bull. Yea, my good Lord

   Rich. Then I must not say, no.

Flourish.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Bolingbroke, Northumberland, and York are outside Flint Castle talking about the news that King Richard has returned to England. Northumberland refers to King Richard as "Richard," omitting his title . York tells him it would be more respectful to refer to him as King Richard. Northumberland says "my bad" and explains that he was just trying to save time. York says there was a time when that kind of time-saving would have cost him his life. Bolingbroke tells York not to worry; it was an innocent mistake and doesn't mean anything. York warns Bolingbroke not to push his luck. Henry Percy comes in to announce that the castle won't yield. It turns out King Richard is inside, with Aumerle, Salisbury, Scrope and a religious man. Bolingbroke tells Northumberland to go to the castle and give the king a message. It sounds like this: "Hey Richard, I'm back in England and hope we can get together for coffee. I'd like to talk to you about revoking my banishment and giving me back all the land you stole from me when my dad died. I'll even get on my knees and kiss your ring, so long as you come out of the castle peacefully. If not, I've got this giant army here with me and I'm not afraid to use it. Your Friend, Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster.) Northumberland doesn't mind doing Henry's dirty work. He goes off to deliver the message. King Richard comes out and stands on the castle's walls with Carlisle, Scrope, and Salisbury. Bolingbroke looks up and says Richard looks the same way the "sun" does when it's about to get smothered up by a bunch of clouds. Richard yells at Northumberland for not kneeling in his presence. Unless he can show that the hand of God has dismissed him from the throne, he's still king, and no other man can hold the scepter without being a thief or a usurper . Gaining steam, Richard tells Northumberland that God is gathering "armies of pestilence" on his behalf that will punish his children's children for this insult to the crown. He says to tell Bolingbroke that every step he takes is an act of treason, and that his coming is an act of war. Northumberland kneels and says that Bolingbroke swears on his dad's and grandfather's graves that he's only come to get his land back and to end his exile - he's definitely not trying to steal Richard's crown. King Richard agrees immediately to these terms but makes it clear that he's not happy about it. Northumberland goes back to Henry with the king's message. Meanwhile, Richard says, "O God, O God" and that he wishes he never banished Bolingbroke to begin with. Then Richard starts talking about himself in the third person and says he should just give up his "large kingdom for a little grave." Richard imagines being buried on the "King's highway," where suicides were buried, and which common people walk on every day. Northumberland comes back to Richard and Richard sarcastically asks, "What says King Bolingbroke?" Apparently Bolingbroke wants to chat with Richard face to face. Richard goes down to meet him and reflects on how he's going down in the world as well: a king obeying a traitor's orders. They meet. Bolingbroke gets on his knees, and Richard says he should get up and stop pretending he's not here to take the throne. Bolingbroke repeats that he's only come for what is his. Richard says Bolingbroke can have anything he wants. After all, Bolingbroke's got a giant army and enough power to take whatever he wants. Bolingbroke pretends that he won't take anything Richard doesn't willingly give him. Richard reaches out to his uncle, York, who is weeping, and asks him to dry his eyes, since tears will do no good. He tells Bolingbroke that although he is not his father, Bolingbroke is nevertheless his heir, and he'll willingly give him whatever he wants. They head to London.


prompt:
Chapter: Scena Quarta.

Enter the Queene, and two Ladies

   Qu. What sport shall we deuise here in this Garden,
To driue away the heauie thought of Care?
  La. Madame, wee'le play at Bowles

   Qu. 'Twill make me thinke the World is full of Rubs,
And that my fortune runnes against the Byas

   La. Madame, wee'le Dance

   Qu. My Legges can keepe no measure in Delight,
When my poore Heart no measure keepes in Griefe.
Therefore no Dancing (Girle) some other sport

   La. Madame, wee'le tell Tales

   Qu. Of Sorrow, or of Griefe?
  La. Of eyther, Madame

   Qu. Of neyther, Girle.
For if of Ioy, being altogether wanting,
It doth remember me the more of Sorrow:
Or if of Griefe, being altogether had,
It addes more Sorrow to my want of Ioy:
For what I haue, I need not to repeat;
And what I want, it bootes not to complaine

   La. Madame, Ile sing

   Qu. 'Tis well that thou hast cause:
But thou should'st please me better, would'st thou weepe

   La. I could weepe, Madame, would it doe you good

   Qu. And I could sing, would weeping doe me good,
And neuer borrow any Teare of thee.
Enter a Gardiner, and two Seruants.

But stay, here comes the Gardiners,
Let's step into the shadow of these Trees.
My wretchednesse, vnto a Rowe of Pinnes,
They'le talke of State: for euery one doth so,
Against a Change; Woe is fore-runne with Woe

   Gard. Goe binde thou vp yond dangling Apricocks,
Which like vnruly Children, make their Syre
Stoupe with oppression of their prodigall weight:
Giue some supportance to the bending twigges.
Goe thou, and like an Executioner
Cut off the heads of too fast growing sprayes,
That looke too loftie in our Common-wealth:
All must be euen, in our Gouernment.
You thus imploy'd, I will goe root away
The noysome Weedes, that without profit sucke
The Soyles fertilitie from wholesome flowers

   Ser. Why should we, in the compasse of a Pale,
Keepe Law and Forme, and due Proportion,
Shewing as in a Modell our firme Estate?
When our Sea-walled Garden, the whole Land,
Is full of Weedes, her fairest Flowers choakt vp,
Her Fruit-trees all vnpruin'd, her Hedges ruin'd,
Her Knots disorder'd, and her wholesome Hearbes
Swarming with Caterpillers

   Gard. Hold thy peace.
He that hath suffer'd this disorder'd Spring,
Hath now himselfe met with the Fall of Leafe.
The Weeds that his broad-spreading Leaues did shelter,
That seem'd, in eating him, to hold him vp,
Are pull'd vp, Root and all, by Bullingbrooke:
I meane, the Earle of Wiltshire, Bushie, Greene

   Ser. What are they dead?
  Gard. They are,
And Bullingbrooke hath seiz'd the wastefull King.
Oh, what pitty is it, that he had not so trim'd
And drest his Land, as we this Garden, at time of yeare,
And wound the Barke, the skin of our Fruit-trees,
Least being ouer-proud with Sap and Blood,
With too much riches it confound it selfe?
Had he done so, to great and growing men,
They might haue liu'd to beare, and he to taste
Their fruites of dutie. Superfluous branches
We lop away, that bearing boughes may liue:
Had he done so, himselfe had borne the Crowne,
Which waste and idle houres, hath quite thrown downe

   Ser. What thinke you the King shall be depos'd?
  Gar. Deprest he is already, and depos'd
'Tis doubted he will be. Letters came last night
To a deere Friend of the Duke of Yorkes,
That tell blacke tydings

   Qu. Oh I am prest to death through want of speaking:
Thou old Adams likenesse, set to dresse this Garden:
How dares thy harsh rude tongue sound this vnpleasing newes
What Eue? what Serpent hath suggested thee,
To make a second fall of cursed man?
Why do'st thou say, King Richard is depos'd,
Dar'st thou, thou little better thing then earth,
Diuine his downfall? Say, where, when, and how
Cam'st thou by this ill-tydings? Speake thou wretch

   Gard. Pardon me Madam. Little ioy haue I
To breath these newes; yet what I say, is true;
King Richard, he is in the mighty hold
Of Bullingbrooke, their Fortunes both are weigh'd:
In your Lords Scale, is nothing but himselfe,
And some few Vanities, that make him light:
But in the Ballance of great Bullingbrooke,
Besides himselfe, are all the English Peeres,
And with that oddes he weighes King Richard downe.
Poste you to London, and you'l finde it so,
I speake no more, then euery one doth know

   Qu. Nimble mischance, that art so light of foote,
Doth not thy Embassage belong to me?
And am I last that knowes it? Oh thou think'st
To serue me last, that I may longest keepe
Thy sorrow in my breast. Come Ladies goe,
To meet at London, Londons King in woe.
What was I borne to this: that my sad looke,
Should grace the Triumph of great Bullingbrooke.
Gard'ner, for telling me this newes of woe,
I would the Plants thou graft'st, may neuer grow.
Enter.

  G. Poore Queen, so that thy State might be no worse,
I would my skill were subiect to thy curse:
Heere did she drop a teare, heere in this place
Ile set a Banke of Rew, sowre Herbe of Grace:
Rue, eu'n for ruth, heere shortly shall be seene,
In the remembrance of a Weeping Queene.
Enter.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In her private garden, the queen chills out with her two ladies in waiting. They suggest lawn bowling and dancing and storytelling. She rejects them all. One lady offers to sing, and the queen answers that she'd rather hear her cry. The second lady offers to weep, and the queen says she'd sing if hearing her weep would help. A Gardener comes in with two men and starts ordering his workers around. He tells one of them to bind the apricot trees to give them more support. He tells the second one to prune some plants that are growing too fast. Then the landscapers start to talk politics. The first man asks why they should bother keeping the garden in such good order when the kingdom - a metaphorical garden - is in such a shambles. The Gardener says Bolingbroke has pulled up the "weeds" that were keeping the king weak. The second man is surprised to hear that Bushy and Green are dead. The Gardener explains that Bolingbroke has also taken the king prisoner. The Gardener says he wishes King Richard had been a better "gardener" of the kingdom. If he had "grown" loyal men and enjoyed the "fruits" of their duty, he would have kept the crown. The first man is surprised, and asks whether the king will be deposed . The Gardener answers yep, Richard's going to be tossed off the throne all right. Meanwhile, the queen has been eavesdropping on her gardeners, and she's not happy about what she hears. She jumps out of the bushes and yells at the Gardener, accusing him of being just like "Old Adam." When she asks him where he heard this news, the Gardener apologizes but insists that what he said was true and is actually pretty common knowledge: Bolingbroke has all the English peers on his side. The queen is ticked off that she's the last person to find out about this. She curses the Gardener's plants, hoping they won't grow. The Gardener feels sorry for the queen and decides to plant some rue, an herb associated with compassion and repentance. He plants the stuff where one of the queen's tears fell.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Quartus. Scoena Prima.

Enter as to the Parliament, Bullingbrooke, Aumerle,
Northumberland,
Percie, FitzWater, Surrey, Carlile, Abbot of Westminster. Herauld,
Officers, and Bagot.

  Bullingbrooke. Call forth Bagot.
Now Bagot, freely speake thy minde,
What thou do'st know of Noble Glousters death:
Who wrought it with the King, and who perform'd
The bloody Office of his Timelesse end

   Bag. Then set before my face, the Lord Aumerle

   Bul. Cosin, stand forth, and looke vpon that man

   Bag. My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scornes to vnsay, what it hath once deliuer'd.
In that dead time, when Glousters death was plotted,
I heard you say, Is not my arme of length,
That reacheth from the restfull English Court
As farre as Callis, to my Vnkles head.
Amongst much other talke, that very time,
I heard you say, that you had rather refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand Crownes,
Then Bullingbrookes returne to England; adding withall,
How blest this Land would be, in this your Cosins death

   Aum. Princes, and Noble Lords:
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonor my faire Starres,
On equall termes to giue him chasticement?
Either I must, or haue mine honor soyl'd
With th' Attaindor of his sland'rous Lippes.
There is my Gage, the manuall Seale of death
That markes thee out for Hell. Thou lyest,
And will maintaine what thou hast said, is false,
In thy heart blood, though being all too base
To staine the temper of my Knightly sword

   Bul. Bagot forbeare, thou shalt not take it vp

   Aum. Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence, that hath mou'd me so

   Fitz. If that thy valour stand on sympathize:
There is my Gage, Aumerle, in Gage to thine:
By that faire Sunne, that shewes me where thou stand'st,
I heard thee say (and vauntingly thou spak'st it)
That thou wer't cause of Noble Glousters death.
If thou deniest it, twenty times thou lyest,
And I will turne thy falshood to thy hart,
Where it was forged with my Rapiers point

   Aum. Thou dar'st not (Coward) liue to see the day

   Fitz. Now by my Soule, I would it were this houre

   Aum. Fitzwater thou art damn'd to hell for this

   Per. Aumerle, thou lye'st: his Honor is as true
In this Appeale, as thou art all vniust:
And that thou art so, there I throw my Gage
To proue it on thee, to th' extreamest point
Of mortall breathing. Seize it, if thou dar'st

   Aum. And if I do not, may my hands rot off,
And neuer brandish more reuengefull Steele,
Ouer the glittering Helmet of my Foe

   Surrey. My Lord Fitzwater:
I do remember well, the very time
Aumerle, and you did talke

   Fitz. My Lord,
'Tis very true: You were in presence then,
And you can witnesse with me, this is true

   Surrey. As false, by heauen,
As Heauen it selfe is true

   Fitz. Surrey, thou Lyest

   Surrey. Dishonourable Boy;
That Lye, shall lie so heauy on my Sword,
That it shall render Vengeance, and Reuenge,
Till thou the Lye-giuer, and that Lye, doe lye
In earth as quiet, as thy Fathers Scull.
In proofe whereof, there is mine Honors pawne,
Engage it to the Triall, if thou dar'st

   Fitzw. How fondly do'st thou spurre a forward Horse?
If I dare eate, or drinke, or breathe, or liue,
I dare meete Surrey in a Wildernesse,
And spit vpon him, whilest I say he Lyes,
And Lyes, and Lyes: there is my Bond of Faith,
To tye thee to my strong Correction.
As I intend to thriue in this new World,
Aumerle is guiltie of my true Appeale.
Besides, I heard the banish'd Norfolke say,
That thou Aumerle didst send two of thy men,
To execute the Noble Duke at Callis

   Aum. Some honest Christian trust me with a Gage,
That Norfolke lyes: here doe I throw downe this,
If he may be repeal'd, to trie his Honor

   Bull. These differences shall all rest vnder Gage,
Till Norfolke be repeal'd: repeal'd he shall be;
And (though mine Enemie) restor'd againe
To all his Lands and Seignories: when hee's return'd,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his Tryall

   Carl. That honorable day shall ne're be seene.
Many a time hath banish'd Norfolke fought
For Iesu Christ, in glorious Christian field
Streaming the Ensigne of the Christian Crosse,
Against black Pagans, Turkes, and Saracens:
And toyl'd with workes of Warre, retyr'd himselfe
To Italy, and there at Venice gaue
His Body to that pleasant Countries Earth,
And his pure Soule vnto his Captaine Christ,
Vnder whose Colours he had fought so long

   Bull. Why Bishop, is Norfolke dead?
  Carl. As sure as I liue, my Lord

   Bull. Sweet peace conduct his sweet Soule
To the Bosome of good old Abraham.
Lords Appealants, your differe[n]ces shal all rest vnder gage,
Till we assigne you to your dayes of Tryall.
Enter Yorke.

  Yorke. Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume-pluckt Richard, who with willing Soule
Adopts thee Heire, and his high Scepter yeelds
To the possession of thy Royall Hand.
Ascend his Throne, descending now from him,
And long liue Henry, of that Name the Fourth

   Bull. In Gods Name, Ile ascend the Regall Throne

   Carl. Mary, Heauen forbid.
Worst in this Royall Presence may I speake,
Yet best beseeming me to speake the truth.
Would God, that any in this Noble Presence
Were enough Noble, to be vpright Iudge
Of Noble Richard: then true Noblenesse would
Learne him forbearance from so foule a Wrong.
What Subiect can giue Sentence on his King?
And who sits here, that is not Richards Subiect?
Theeues are not iudg'd, but they are by to heare,
Although apparant guilt be seene in them:
And shall the figure of Gods Maiestie,
His Captaine, Steward, Deputie elect,
Anoynted, Crown'd, planted many yeeres,
Be iudg'd by subiect, and inferior breathe,
And he himselfe not present? Oh, forbid it, God,
That in a Christian Climate, Soules refin'de
Should shew so heynous, black, obscene a deed.
I speake to Subiects, and a Subiect speakes,
Stirr'd vp by Heauen, thus boldly for his King
My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call King,
Is a foule Traytor to prowd Herefords King.
And if you Crowne him, let me prophecie,
The blood of English shall manure the ground,
And future Ages groane for his foule Act.
Peace shall goe sleepe with Turkes and Infidels,
And in this Seat of Peace, tumultuous Warres
Shall Kinne with Kinne, and Kinde with Kinde confound.
Disorder, Horror, Feare, and Mutinie
Shall here inhabite, and this Land be call'd
The field of Golgotha, and dead mens Sculls.
Oh, if you reare this House, against this House
It will the wofullest Diuision proue,
That euer fell vpon this cursed Earth.
Preuent it, resist it, and let it not be so,
Least Child, Childs Children cry against you, Woe

   North. Well haue you argu'd Sir: and for your paines,
Of Capitall Treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge,
To keepe him safely, till his day of Tryall.
May it please you, Lords, to grant the Commons Suit?
  Bull. Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender: so we shall proceede
Without suspition

   Yorke. I will be his Conduct.
Enter.

  Bull. Lords, you that here are vnder our Arrest,
Procure your Sureties for your Dayes of Answer:
Little are we beholding to your Loue,
And little look'd for at your helping Hands.
Enter Richard and Yorke.

  Rich. Alack, why am I sent for to a King,
Before I haue shooke off the Regall thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet haue learn'd
To insinuate, flatter, bowe, and bend my Knee.
Giue Sorrow leaue a while, to tuture me
To this submission. Yet I well remember
The fauors of these men: were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry, All hayle to me?
So Iudas did to Christ: but he in twelue,
Found truth in all, but one; I, in twelue thousand, none.
God saue the King: will no man say, Amen?
Am I both Priest, and Clarke? well then, Amen.
God saue the King, although I be not hee:
And yet Amen, if Heauen doe thinke him mee.
To doe what seruice, am I sent for hither?
  Yorke. To doe that office of thine owne good will,
Which tyred Maiestie did make thee offer:
The Resignation of thy State and Crowne
To Henry Bullingbrooke

   Rich. Giue me the Crown. Here Cousin, seize y Crown:
Here Cousin, on this side my Hand, on that side thine.
Now is this Golden Crowne like a deepe Well,
That owes two Buckets, filling one another,
The emptier euer dancing in the ayre,
The other downe, vnseene, and full of Water:
That Bucket downe, and full of Teares am I,
Drinking my Griefes, whil'st you mount vp on high

   Bull. I thought you had been willing to resigne

   Rich. My Crowne I am, but still my Griefes are mine:
You may my Glories and my State depose,
But not my Griefes; still am I King of those

   Bull. Part of your Cares you giue me with your Crowne

   Rich. Your Cares set vp, do not pluck my Cares downe.
My Care, is losse of Care, by old Care done,
Your Care, is gaine of Care, by new Care wonne:
The Cares I giue, I haue, though giuen away,
They 'tend the Crowne, yet still with me they stay:
  Bull. Are you contented to resigne the Crowne?
  Rich. I, no; no, I: for I must nothing bee:
Therefore no, no, for I resigne to thee.
Now, marke me how I will vndoe my selfe.
I giue this heauie Weight from off my Head,
And this vnwieldie Scepter from my Hand,
The pride of Kingly sway from out my Heart.
With mine owne Teares I wash away my Balme,
With mine owne Hands I giue away my Crowne,
With mine owne Tongue denie my Sacred State,
With mine owne Breath release all dutious Oathes;
All Pompe and Maiestie I doe forsweare:
My Manors, Rents, Reuenues, I forgoe;
My Acts, Decrees, and Statutes I denie:
God pardon all Oathes that are broke to mee,
God keepe all Vowes vnbroke are made to thee.
Make me that nothing haue, with nothing grieu'd,
And thou with all pleas'd, that hast all atchieu'd.
Long may'st thou liue in Richards Seat to sit,
And soone lye Richard in an Earthie Pit.
God saue King Henry, vn-King'd Richard sayes,
And send him many yeeres of Sunne-shine dayes.
What more remaines?
  North. No more: but that you reade
These Accusations, and these grieuous Crymes,
Committed by your Person, and your followers,
Against the State, and Profit of this Land:
That by confessing them, the Soules of men
May deeme, that you are worthily depos'd

   Rich. Must I doe so? and must I rauell out
My weau'd-vp follyes? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy Offences were vpon Record,
Would it not shame thee, in so faire a troupe,
To reade a Lecture of them? If thou would'st,
There should'st thou finde one heynous Article,
Contayning the deposing of a King,
And cracking the strong Warrant of an Oath,
Mark'd with a Blot, damn'd in the Booke of Heauen.
Nay, all of you, that stand and looke vpon me,
Whil'st that my wretchednesse doth bait my selfe,
Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,
Shewing an outward pittie: yet you Pilates
Haue here deliuer'd me to my sowre Crosse,
And Water cannot wash away your sinne

   North. My Lord dispatch, reade o're these Articles

   Rich. Mine Eyes are full of Teares, I cannot see:
And yet salt-Water blindes them not so much,
But they can see a sort of Traytors here.
Nay, if I turne mine Eyes vpon my selfe,
I finde my selfe a Traytor with the rest:
For I haue giuen here my Soules consent,
T' vndeck the pompous Body of a King;
Made Glory base; a Soueraigntie, a Slaue;
Prowd Maiestie, a Subiect; State, a Pesant

   North. My Lord

   Rich. No Lord of thine, thou haught-insulting man;
No, nor no mans Lord: I haue no Name, no Title;
No, not that Name was giuen me at the Font,
But 'tis vsurpt: alack the heauie day,
That I haue worne so many Winters out,
And know not now, what Name to call my selfe.
Oh, that I were a Mockerie, King of Snow,
Standing before the Sunne of Bullingbrooke,
To melt my selfe away in Water-drops.
Good King, great King, and yet not greatly good,
And if my word be Sterling yet in England,
Let it command a Mirror hither straight,
That it may shew me what a Face I haue,
Since it is Bankrupt of his Maiestie

   Bull. Goe some of you, and fetch a Looking-Glasse

   North. Read o're this Paper, while y Glasse doth come

   Rich. Fiend, thou torments me, ere I come to Hell

   Bull. Vrge it no more, my Lord Northumberland

   North. The Commons will not then be satisfy'd

   Rich. They shall be satisfy'd: Ile reade enough,
When I doe see the very Booke indeede,
Where all my sinnes are writ, and that's my selfe.
Enter one with a Glasse.

Giue me that Glasse, and therein will I reade.
No deeper wrinckles yet? hath Sorrow strucke
So many Blowes vpon this Face of mine,
And made no deeper Wounds? Oh flatt'ring Glasse,
Like to my followers in prosperitie,
Thou do'st beguile me. Was this Face, the Face
That euery day, vnder his House-hold Roofe,
Did keepe ten thousand men? Was this the Face,
That like the Sunne, did make beholders winke?
Is this the Face, which fac'd so many follyes,
That was at last out-fac'd by Bullingbrooke?
A brittle Glory shineth in this Face,
As brittle as the Glory, is the Face,
For there it is, crackt in an hundred shiuers.
Marke silent King, the Morall of this sport,
How soone my Sorrow hath destroy'd my Face

   Bull. The shadow of your Sorrow hath destroy'd
The shadow of your Face

   Rich. Say that againe.
The shadow of my Sorrow: ha, let's see,
'Tis very true, my Griefe lyes all within,
And these externall manner of Laments,
Are meerely shadowes, to the vnseene Griefe,
That swells with silence in the tortur'd Soule.
There lyes the substance: and I thanke thee King
For thy great bountie, that not onely giu'st
Me cause to wayle, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. Ile begge one Boone,
And then be gone, and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtaine it?
  Bull. Name it, faire Cousin

   Rich. Faire Cousin? I am greater then a King:
For when I was a King, my flatterers
Were then but subiects; being now a subiect,
I haue a King here to my flatterer:
Being so great, I haue no neede to begge

   Bull. Yet aske

   Rich. And shall I haue?
  Bull. You shall

   Rich. Then giue me leaue to goe

   Bull. Whither?
  Rich. Whither you will, so I were from your sights

   Bull. Goe some of you, conuey him to the Tower

   Rich. Oh good: conuey: Conueyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true Kings fall

   Bull. On Wednesday next, we solemnly set downe
Our Coronation: Lords, prepare your selues.

Exeunt.

  Abbot. A wofull Pageant haue we here beheld

   Carl. The Woes to come, the Children yet vnborne,
Shall feele this day as sharpe to them as Thorne

   Aum. You holy Clergie-men, is there no Plot
To rid the Realme of this pernicious Blot

   Abbot. Before I freely speake my minde herein,
You shall not onely take the Sacrament,
To bury mine intents, but also to effect
What euer I shall happen to deuise.
I see your Browes are full of Discontent,
Your Heart of Sorrow, and your Eyes of Teares.
Come home with me to Supper, Ile lay a Plot
Shall shew vs all a merry day.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: Bolingbroke orders Bagot to be brought forth and asks him to tell him the truth about Gloucester's death. Bagot asks to be placed in front of Lord Aumerle and accuses him of talking trash about Henry and bragging that he killed Gloucester. Aumerle throws down his gage. Bolingbroke tells Bagot not to take the challenge. Fitzwater offers to fight Aumerle in Bagot's place. He says he too heard Aumerle say he caused Gloucester's death. Aumerle accepts the challenge. Amid the trash talk that starts between the two, Henry Percy breaks in to call Aumerle a liar and challenges him by throwing down his gage too. Another lord does the same. Aumerle accepts all the gages and says he'll fight everybody in the room if he has to. Then Surry and Fitzwater start to argue. Surry throws down his gage against Fitzwater. Fitzwater accepts the challenge and accuses him of "lies, and lies, and lies." He repeats that Aumerle is guilty and adds that he heard from Norfolk that Aumerle sent two of his men to execute Gloucester. Aumerle once again denies it, borrows someone else's gage, since he's all out, and throws it down again, asking that Mowbray be recalled from banishment so he can fight him. Bolingbroke says all the duels will have to wait till Mowbray is recalled from exile. He declares Mowbray's banishment will be repealed, despite their animosity, and all his property will be restored to him. Carlisle chimes in that, actually, Mowbray died in Venice, so he's not coming back to England any time soon. Bolingbroke is bummed out by the news and says he hopes Mowbray went to heaven. Then he tells all the assorted combatants they can settle their challenges later when he assigns the days of their trial. York comes in to tell Bolingbroke that he's just come from "plume-plucked Richard," who has agreed to adopt him as an heir and yield the throne to him. He finishes with "Long live Henry, of that name the fourth!" Bolingbroke enthusiastically accepts. Carlisle, startled, says "God forbid!" He says none of the men present are noble enough to judge "noble Richard." He adds that a truly noble man would ever do such a thing; no subject can sentence a king. Carlisle calls Bolingbroke by his banished name, Hereford, and calls him a "foul traitor" to his king. He prophesies that if Henry is crowned there will be bloodshed and a grim future - namely, civil war. Northumberland tells Carlisle he has spoken very well, then he arrests him for capital treason . He puts him in Westminster's custody. Bolingbroke demands that Richard be brought forth, so he can hand over the crown in front of witnesses. That way, nobody can question what happened. York volunteers to bring him. Then Bolingbroke, speaking with the royal "we," tells the remaining men that they are under arrest and need to provide "sureties" to guarantee they will appear on the days of their trials . As a new ruler, he isn't happy about their internal squabbling: "Little are we beholding to your love, And little looked for at your helping hands." Richard appears with York, followed by officers holding the crown and scepter. Richard asks why he is sent for to a king before he has officially shaken off his royalty. He hasn't had time to learn to bow to another man and flatter him. He asks for time so his grief can teach him submission. He compares himself to Christ. Richard says "God save the king!" When no one says "Amen," he says it himself, and adds, "God save the king, although I be not he." He asks why he has been summoned. Richard asks York to give him the crown. He tells Bolingbroke to seize it. When each of them has their hand on it, he compares it to a deep well with two buckets. His bucket is heavy with tears, and weighing down his side, while Richard's bucket dances in the air, rising higher. Bolingbroke says he thought Richard was willing to step down. Richard replies that he is his crown and his grief, and while Bolingbroke can depose his glories, he can't depose his grief. He is still king of his own sadness. Bolingbroke says Richard is giving him many of the "cares" or responsibilities of the crown. Richard says his burden hasn't lessened; new cares come in. Bolingbroke asks whether Richard is "contented" to resign. Richard says "Ay no. No, ay." Then he asks everyone to watch how he "undoes" himself, and gives Bolingbroke the crown and scepter. Richard gives a speech on how what is his manage to give away other things that seemed to be just as irrevocably his . Richard ends by saying, "God save King Henry," and asks what else is expected of him. Northumberland presents a list of accusations and charges against him. They're crimes Richard allegedly committed against the state. Henry wants him to confess to everything so the public will think he deserves to be booted out of office. Richard says, "Do I have to?" He reflects to Northumberland that as long as he's revealing his ugly past, it might be interesting to read a lecture on Northumberland's crimes, the most recent of which was the deposing of a king and breaking an oath. Richard compares his enemies to Pontius Pilate, the Roman judge who sentenced Jesus to be crucified in the New Testament. Northumberland tries to give him the paper again and asks him to read it. Richard says he can't because his eyes are full of tears. He continues on with his "woe is me" routine until Northumberland asks him again to sign the paper. Richard asks for a mirror. Bolingbroke sends for a mirror. Northumberland tries to get him to read the list again. Richard calls him a fiend tormenting him before he's gone to Hell. Bolingbroke tells Northumberland to give it a rest because he's acting like a bulldog. Northumberland points out that the people won't be happy without the confession. Richard grabs the mirror and looks at himself. He can't believe that he doesn't look as old and ugly as he feels. Richard asks permission to go anywhere, as long as its away from the court. Bolingbroke is all, "Well, I think I'll send you to the Tower of London." They take him. Bolingbroke announces that his coronation will be the following Wednesday and tells everyone to get ready because there's going to be a serious party afterward. Everyone leaves except Westminster , Carlisle and Aumerle. Abbott remarks that the scene they just witnessed was a "woeful pageant." Carlisle says the woe is coming - things will get worse and future children will see this day as a thorn.


prompt:
Chapter: Actus Quintus. Scena Prima.

Enter Queene, and Ladies.

  Qu. This way the King will come: this is the way
To Iulius C�sars ill-erected Tower:
To whose flint Bosome, my condemned Lord
Is doom'd a Prisoner, by prowd Bullingbrooke.
Here let vs rest, if this rebellious Earth
Haue any resting for her true Kings Queene.
Enter Richard, and Guard.

But soft, but see, or rather doe not see,
My faire Rose wither: yet looke vp; behold,
That you in pittie may dissolue to dew,
And wash him fresh againe with true-loue Teares.
Ah thou, the Modell where old Troy did stand,
Thou Mappe of Honor, thou King Richards Tombe,
And not King Richard: thou most beauteous Inne,
Why should hard-fauor'd Griefe be lodg'd in thee,
When Triumph is become an Ale-house Guest

   Rich. Ioyne not with griefe, faire Woman, do not so,
To make my end too sudden: learne good Soule,
To thinke our former State a happie Dreame,
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are,
Shewes vs but this. I am sworne Brother (Sweet)
To grim Necessitie; and hee and I
Will keepe a League till Death. High thee to France,
And Cloyster thee in some Religious House:
Our holy liues must winne a new Worlds Crowne,
Which our prophane houres here haue stricken downe

   Qu. What, is my Richard both in shape and minde
Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bullingbrooke
Depos'd thine Intellect? hath he beene in thy Heart?
The Lyon dying, thrusteth forth his Paw,
And wounds the Earth, if nothing else, with rage
To be o're-powr'd: and wilt thou, Pupill-like,
Take thy Correction mildly, kisse the Rodde,
And fawne on Rage with base Humilitie,
Which art a Lyon, and a King of Beasts?
  Rich. A King of Beasts indeed: if aught but Beasts,
I had beene still a happy King of Men.
Good (sometime Queene) prepare thee hence for France:
Thinke I am dead, and that euen here thou tak'st,
As from my Death-bed, my last liuing leaue.
In Winters tedious Nights sit by the fire
With good old folkes, and let them tell thee Tales
Of wofull Ages, long agoe betide:
And ere thou bid good-night, to quit their griefe,
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me,
And send the hearers weeping to their Beds:
For why? the sencelesse Brands will sympathize
The heauie accent of thy mouing Tongue,
And in compassion, weepe the fire out:
And some will mourne in ashes, some coale-black,
For the deposing of a rightfull King.
Enter Northumberland.

  North. My Lord, the mind of Bullingbrooke is chang'd.
You must to Pomfret, not vnto the Tower.
And Madame, there is order ta'ne for you:
With all swift speed, you must away to France

   Rich. Northumberland, thou Ladder wherewithall
The mounting Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne,
The time shall not be many houres of age,
More then it is, ere foule sinne, gathering head,
Shall breake into corruption: thou shalt thinke,
Though he diuide the Realme, and giue thee halfe,
It is too little, helping him to all:
He shall thinke, that thou which know'st the way
To plant vnrightfull Kings, wilt know againe,
Being ne're so little vrg'd another way,
To pluck him headlong from the vsurped Throne.
The Loue of wicked friends conuerts to Feare;
That Feare, to Hate; and Hate turnes one, or both,
To worthie Danger, and deserued Death

   North. My guilt be on my Head, and there an end:
Take leaue, and part, for you must part forthwith

   Rich. Doubly diuorc'd? (bad men) ye violate
A two-fold Marriage; 'twixt my Crowne, and me.
And then betwixt me, and my marryed Wife.
Let me vn-kisse the Oath 'twixt thee, and me;
And yet not so, for with a Kisse 'twas made.
Part vs, Northumberland: I, towards the North,
Where shiuering Cold and Sicknesse pines the Clyme:
My Queene to France: from whence, set forth in pompe,
She came adorned hither like sweet May;
Sent back like Hollowmas, or short'st of day

   Qu. And must we be diuided? must we part?
  Rich. I, hand from hand (my Loue) and heart fro[m] heart

   Qu. Banish vs both, and send the King with me

   North. That were some Loue, but little Pollicy

   Qu. Then whither he goes, thither let me goe

   Rich. So two together weeping, make one Woe.
Weepe thou for me in France; I, for thee heere:
Better farre off, then neere, be ne're the neere.
Goe, count thy Way with Sighes; I, mine with Groanes

   Qu. So longest Way shall haue the longest Moanes

   Rich. Twice for one step Ile groane, y Way being short,
And peece the Way out with a heauie heart.
Come, come, in wooing Sorrow let's be briefe,
Since wedding it, there is such length in Griefe:
One Kisse shall stop our mouthes, and dumbely part;
Thus giue I mine, and thus take I thy heart

   Qu. Giue me mine owne againe: 'twere no good part,
To take on me to keepe, and kill thy heart.
So, now I haue mine owne againe, be gone,
That I may striue to kill it with a groane

   Rich. We make Woe wanton with this fond delay:
Once more adieu; the rest, let Sorrow say.

Exeunt.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The queen is waiting in a public street for the king to pass by on his way to the Tower of London, where he's going to be imprisoned. When the king appears, the queen compares him to a withering rose and hopes that those watching might dissolve into dew and refresh him with tears of love. Richard asks the queen not to grieve with him so as not to make his life end sooner from despair. He tells her to remember the good times as a happy dream. Richard tells his queen to go live in a convent in France and dedicate herself to religion. Surprised, the queen asks whether Richard has lost his mind. She tells him to act like a lion, not a whiny little schoolboy. Richard laughs at her characterization of him as "king of beasts" and says he wishes he governed anything but beasts. He tells her to go to France, tell stories, and proceed as if he were dead. He asks her to imagine this as his deathbed, their final goodbye. Northumberland shows up to tell Richard that Bolingbroke has changed his mind and wants him to go to Pomfret Castle instead of the Tower. He tells the queen she has been ordered to go France. Brain Snack: Pomfret Castle is sort of in the middle of nowhere, so basically Bolingbroke is sending Richard to the medieval equivalent of Siberia. Richard calls Northumberland the ladder Bolingbroke climbed to the throne and warns him that Bolingbroke will become suspicious of him once he's king. Once a man decides to depose a king, he might do it again. Northumberland says he can deal with his guilt and tells the king and queen to hurry up and say their goodbyes already. Richard exclaims that he's "doubly divorced": once from his queen, and once from his kingdom. To the queen he "unkisses" the oath they made. The queen asks Northumberland if Richard can join her in her banishment to France, instead of being locked up. Northumberland is all, "Um, that's not such a good idea." The king and queen have a very sad parting scene, trading kisses and, metaphorically, hearts.


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Secunda.

Enter Yorke, and his Duchesse.

  Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
When weeping made you breake the story off,
Of our two Cousins comming into London

   Yorke. Where did I leaue?
  Duch. At that sad stoppe, my Lord,
Where rude mis-gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richards head

   Yorke. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bullingbrooke,
Mounted vpon a hot and fierie Steed,
Which his aspiring Rider seem'd to know,
With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course:
While all tongues cride, God saue thee Bullingbrooke.
You would haue thought the very windowes spake,
So many greedy lookes of yong and old,
Through Casements darted their desiring eyes
Vpon his visage: and that all the walles,
With painted Imagery had said at once,
Iesu preserue thee, welcom Bullingbrooke.
Whil'st he, from one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower then his proud Steeds necke,
Bespake them thus: I thanke you Countrimen:
And thus still doing, thus he past along

   Dutch. Alas poore Richard, where rides he the whilst?
  Yorke. As in a Theater, the eyes of men
After a well grac'd Actor leaues the Stage,
Are idlely bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious:
Euen so, or with much more contempt, mens eyes
Did scowle on Richard: no man cride, God saue him:
No ioyfull tongue gaue him his welcome home,
But dust was throwne vpon his Sacred head,
Which with such gentle sorrow he shooke off,
His face still combating with teares and smiles
(The badges of his greefe and patience)
That had not God (for some strong purpose) steel'd
The hearts of men, they must perforce haue melted,
And Barbarisme it selfe haue pittied him.
But heauen hath a hand in these euents,
To whose high will we bound our calme contents.
To Bullingbrooke, are we sworne Subiects now,
Whose State, and Honor, I for aye allow.
Enter Aumerle

   Dut. Heere comes my sonne Aumerle

   Yor. Aumerle that was,
But that is lost, for being Richards Friend.
And Madam, you must call him Rutland now:
I am in Parliament pledge for his truth,
And lasting fealtie to the new-made King

   Dut. Welcome my sonne: who are the Violets now,
That strew the greene lap of the new-come Spring?
  Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not,
God knowes, I had as liefe be none, as one

   Yorke. Well, beare you well in this new-spring of time
Least you be cropt before you come to prime.
What newes from Oxford? Hold those Iusts & Triumphs?
  Aum. For ought I know my Lord, they do

   Yorke. You will be there I know

   Aum. If God preuent not, I purpose so

   Yor. What Seale is that that hangs without thy bosom?
Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the Writing

   Aum. My Lord, 'tis nothing

   Yorke. No matter then who sees it,
I will be satisfied, let me see the Writing

   Aum. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,
It is a matter of small consequence,
Which for some reasons I would not haue seene

   Yorke. Which for some reasons sir, I meane to see:
I feare, I feare

   Dut. What should you feare?
'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into
For gay apparrell, against the Triumph

   Yorke. Bound to himselfe? What doth he with a Bond
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a foole.
Boy, let me see the Writing

   Aum. I do beseech you pardon me, I may not shew it

   Yor. I will be satisfied: let me see it I say.

Snatches it

Treason, foule Treason, Villaine, Traitor, Slaue

   Dut. What's the matter, my Lord?
  Yorke. Hoa, who's within there? Saddle my horse.
Heauen for his mercy: what treachery is heere?
  Dut. Why, what is't my Lord?
  Yorke. Giue me my boots, I say: Saddle my horse:
Now by my Honor, my life, my troth,
I will appeach the Villaine

   Dut. What is the matter?
  Yorke. Peace foolish Woman

   Dut. I will not peace. What is the matter Sonne?
  Aum. Good Mother be content, it is no more
Then my poore life must answer

   Dut. Thy life answer?
Enter Seruant with Boots.

  Yor. Bring me my Boots, I will vnto the King

   Dut. Strike him Aumerle. Poore boy, y art amaz'd,
Hence Villaine, neuer more come in my sight

   Yor. Giue me my Boots, I say

   Dut. Why Yorke, what wilt thou do?
Wilt thou not hide the Trespasse of thine owne?
Haue we more Sonnes? Or are we like to haue?
Is not my teeming date drunke vp with time?
And wilt thou plucke my faire Sonne from mine Age,
And rob me of a happy Mothers name?
Is he not like thee? Is he not thine owne?
  Yor. Thou fond mad woman:
Wilt thou conceale this darke Conspiracy?
A dozen of them heere haue tane the Sacrament,
And interchangeably set downe their hands
To kill the King at Oxford

   Dut. He shall be none:
Wee'l keepe him heere: then what is that to him?
  Yor. Away fond woman: were hee twenty times my
Son, I would appeach him

   Dut. Hadst thou groan'd for him as I haue done,
Thou wouldest be more pittifull:
But now I know thy minde; thou do'st suspect
That I haue bene disloyall to thy bed,
And that he is a Bastard, not thy Sonne:
Sweet Yorke, sweet husband, be not of that minde:
He is as like thee, as a man may bee,
Not like to me, nor any of my Kin,
And yet I loue him

   Yorke. Make way, vnruly Woman.

Exit

  Dut. After Aumerle. Mount thee vpon his horse,
Spurre post, and get before him to the King,
And begge thy pardon, ere he do accuse thee,
Ile not be long behind: though I be old,
I doubt not but to ride as fast as Yorke:
And neuer will I rise vp from the ground,
Till Bullingbrooke haue pardon'd thee: Away be gone.

Exit

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: The Duchess asks York to finish telling her about their two cousins' arrival in London. He had left off telling her about the people throwing dust and garbage on Richard's head from their windows. Bolingbroke, York continues, rode on horseback and was welcomed by the people. The Duchess asks where Richard was riding. York compares Richard's appearance after York to an actor who shows up onstage after the star has left. No one welcomed him. They threw dust at him, which he shook off patiently. Despite all of this, York says, heaven had a hand in it all, and he and she are sworn subjects of Bolingbroke's now. Aumerle comes in, and York laments his friendship with Richard, since he's now been stripped of his title. He tells his wife their son isn't Aumerle anymore. He's the Earl of Rutland. The Duchess welcomes her son and asks him "who are the violets now?" - meaning, who is in favor at the new court? Aumerle says he doesn't know or care. York warns him to be careful or he'll be "cropped" before his time. York notices a seal around his son's neck and asks to read it. Aumerle tries to stop him but York insists and finds evidence of a conspiracy against Bolingbroke. Furious, York tells a Servingman to saddle his horse. He swears to denounce his son. The Duchess, perplexed, asks what's going on. Aumerle tells her their son will have to pay for his treachery with his life. York calls for his boots. The serving man arrives with the boots. The Duchess tells Aumerle to hit the serving man. He doesn't, and she tells the serving man to go away. The Duchess asks York whether he won't hide his son's mistakes, pointing out they're unlikely to have any more sons. York calls her a madwoman and asks whether she really wants to hide "this dark conspiracy" to kill the king at Oxford. The Duchess suggests they keep their son at home and prevent his participation. York refuses and says he would denounce him if he were twenty times his own son. The Duchess replies that he would have more pity if he had delivered him himself, and accuses York of suspecting that Aumerle isn't his own son. She swears she's been loyal and points out that Aumerle takes after his dad's family more than hers. York tells her to get out of his way and goes. The Duchess tells Aumerle to try to get to the king before his father does and beg his pardon. She plans to go too.


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Tertia.

Enter Bullingbrooke, Percie, and other Lords.

  Bul. Can no man tell of my vnthriftie Sonne?
'Tis full three monthes since I did see him last.
If any plague hang ouer vs, 'tis he,
I would to heauen (my Lords) he might be found:
Enquire at London, 'mongst the Tauernes there:
For there (they say) he dayly doth frequent,
With vnrestrained loose Companions,
Euen such (they say) as stand in narrow Lanes,
And rob our Watch, and beate our passengers,
Which he, yong wanton, and effeminate Boy
Takes on the point of Honor, to support
So dissolute a crew

   Per. My Lord, some two dayes since I saw the Prince,
And told him of these Triumphes held at Oxford

   Bul. And what said the Gallant?
  Per. His answer was: he would vnto the Stewes,
And from the common'st creature plucke a Gloue
And weare it as a fauour, and with that
He would vnhorse the lustiest Challenger

   Bul. As dissolute as desp'rate, yet through both,
I see some sparkes of better hope: which elder dayes
May happily bring forth. But who comes heere?
Enter Aumerle.

  Aum. Where is the King?
  Bul. What meanes our Cosin, that hee stares
And lookes so wildely?
  Aum. God saue your Grace. I do beseech your Maiesty
To haue some conference with your Grace alone

   Bul. Withdraw your selues, and leaue vs here alone:
What is the matter with our Cosin now?
  Aum. For euer may my knees grow to the earth,
My tongue cleaue to my roofe within my mouth,
Vnlesse a Pardon, ere I rise, or speake

   Bul. Intended, or committed was this fault?
If on the first, how heynous ere it bee,
To win thy after loue, I pardon thee

   Aum. Then giue me leaue, that I may turne the key,
That no man enter, till my tale be done

   Bul. Haue thy desire.

Yorke within.

  Yor. My Liege beware, looke to thy selfe,
Thou hast a Traitor in thy presence there

   Bul. Villaine, Ile make thee safe

   Aum. Stay thy reuengefull hand, thou hast no cause
to feare

   Yorke. Open the doore, secure foole-hardy King:
Shall I for loue speake treason to thy face?
Open the doore, or I will breake it open.
Enter Yorke.

  Bul. What is the matter (Vnkle) speak, recouer breath,
Tell vs how neere is danger,
That we may arme vs to encounter it

   Yor. Peruse this writing heere, and thou shalt know
The reason that my haste forbids me show

   Aum. Remember as thou read'st, thy promise past:
I do repent me, reade not my name there,
My heart is not confederate with my hand

   Yor. It was (villaine) ere thy hand did set it downe.
I tore it from the Traitors bosome, King.
Feare, and not Loue, begets his penitence;
Forget to pitty him, least thy pitty proue
A Serpent, that will sting thee to the heart

   Bul. Oh heinous, strong, and bold Conspiracie,
O loyall Father of a treacherous Sonne:
Thou sheere, immaculate, and siluer fountaine,
From whence this streame, through muddy passages
Hath had his current, and defil'd himselfe.
Thy ouerflow of good, conuerts to bad,
And thy abundant goodnesse shall excuse
This deadly blot, in thy digressing sonne

   Yorke. So shall my Vertue be his Vices bawd,
And he shall spend mine Honour, with his Shame;
As thriftlesse Sonnes, their scraping Fathers Gold.
Mine honor liues, when his dishonor dies,
Or my sham'd life, in his dishonor lies:
Thou kill'st me in his life, giuing him breath,
The Traitor liues, the true man's put to death.

Dutchesse within.

  Dut. What hoa (my Liege) for heauens sake let me in

   Bul. What shrill-voic'd Suppliant, makes this eager cry?
  Dut. A woman, and thine Aunt (great King) 'tis I.
Speake with me, pitty me, open the dore,
A Begger begs, that neuer begg'd before

   Bul. Our Scene is alter'd from a serious thing,
And now chang'd to the Begger, and the King.
My dangerous Cosin, let your Mother in,
I know she's come, to pray for your foule sin

   Yorke. If thou do pardon, whosoeuer pray,
More sinnes for this forgiuenesse, prosper may.
This fester'd ioynt cut off, the rest rests sound,
This let alone, will all the rest confound.
Enter Dutchesse.

  Dut. O King, beleeue not this hard-hearted man,
Loue, louing not it selfe, none other can

   Yor. Thou franticke woman, what dost y make here,
Shall thy old dugges, once more a Traitor reare?
  Dut. Sweet Yorke be patient, heare me gentle Liege

   Bul. Rise vp good Aunt

   Dut. Not yet, I thee beseech.
For euer will I kneele vpon my knees,
And neuer see day, that the happy sees,
Till thou giue ioy: vntill thou bid me ioy,
By pardoning Rutland, my transgressing Boy

   Aum. Vnto my mothers prayres, I bend my knee

   Yorke. Against them both, my true ioynts bended be

   Dut. Pleades he in earnest? Looke vpon his Face,
His eyes do drop no teares: his prayres are in iest:
His words come from his mouth, ours from our brest.
He prayes but faintly, and would be denide,
We pray with heart, and soule, and all beside:
His weary ioynts would gladly rise, I know,
Our knees shall kneele, till to the ground they grow:
His prayers are full of false hypocrisie,
Ours of true zeale, and deepe integritie:
Our prayers do out-pray his, then let them haue
That mercy, which true prayers ought to haue

   Bul. Good Aunt stand vp

   Dut. Nay, do not say stand vp.
But Pardon first, and afterwards stand vp.
And if I were thy Nurse, thy tongue to teach,
Pardon should be the first word of thy speach.
I neuer long'd to heare a word till now:
Say Pardon (King,) let pitty teach thee how.
The word is short: but not so short as sweet,
No word like Pardon, for Kings mouth's so meet

   Yorke. Speake it in French (King) say Pardon'ne moy

   Dut. Dost thou teach pardon, Pardon to destroy?
Ah my sowre husband, my hard-hearted Lord,
That set's the word it selfe, against the word.
Speake Pardon, as 'tis currant in our Land,
The chopping French we do not vnderstand.
Thine eye begins to speake, set thy tongue there,
Or in thy pitteous heart, plant thou thine eare,
That hearing how our plaints and prayres do pearce,
Pitty may moue thee, Pardon to rehearse

   Bul. Good Aunt, stand vp

   Dut. I do not sue to stand,
Pardon is all the suite I haue in hand

   Bul. I pardon him, as heauen shall pardon mee

   Dut. O happy vantage of a kneeling knee?
Yet am I sicke for feare: Speake it againe,
Twice saying Pardon, doth not pardon twaine,
But makes one pardon strong

   Bul. I pardon him with all my hart

   Dut. A God on earth thou art

   Bul. But for our trusty brother-in-Law, the Abbot,
With all the rest of that consorted crew,
Destruction straight shall dogge them at the heeles:
Good Vnckle helpe to order seuerall powres
To Oxford, or where ere these Traitors are:
They shall not liue within this world I sweare,
But I will haue them, if I once know where.
Vnckle farewell, and Cosin adieu:
Your mother well hath praid, and proue you true

   Dut. Come my old son, I pray heauen make thee new.

Exeunt.

Enter Exton and Seruants.

  Ext. Didst thou not marke the King what words hee
spake?
Haue I no friend will rid me of this liuing feare:
Was it not so?
  Ser. Those were his very words.

Ex.

Haue I no Friend? (quoth he:) he spake it twice,
And vrg'd it twice together, did he not?
  Ser. He did.

Ex.

And speaking it, he wistly look'd on me,
As who should say, I would thou wer't the man
That would diuorce this terror from my heart,
Meaning the King at Pomfret: Come, let's goe;
I am the Kings Friend, and will rid his Foe.
Enter.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: King Henry asks if anyone has had news of his son, whom he hasn't heard from for three months. He calls him a "plague" hanging over the new kingdom and orders a search of the taverns, where the prince is known to hang out with criminals. Henry Percy replies that he saw him two days ago and told him about the combat trials at Oxford. He says the prince made a crack about going to the brothels instead. King Henry hopes his kid will grow up someday. Aumerle walks in, dazed, and asks where the king is. King Henry asks him why he's acting all crazy. Aumerle says he wishes to speak to the king alone. Henry orders everyone else out. Aumerle begs for forgiveness. King Henry asks whether the offense is "intended" - that is, still in the planning stages, or done. If only intended, he'll forgive him. Aumerle asks for permission to lock the door so that no one can enter until he finishes his confession. Henry allows this. Aumerle locks the door just as York starts banging on the door from outside, yelling to King Henry that he's locked in with a traitor. Henry draws his sword on Aumerle, who tells him he has no reason to fear. York yells to the king to open the door. King Henry unlocks it and asks York to tell him what's going on. York shows him the paper Aumerle had around his neck. Aumerle reminds the king of his promise to forgive him for an intended offense and says he repents. York calls his son a villain and asks the king not to take pity on him. King Henry, shocked, praises York's honesty and calls Aumerle a "deadly blot." York says his son has spent his honor with his shame. He insists that by allowing his son, a traitor, to live, the king would be killing him, an honest man. The Duchess arrives and begs King Henry to allow her inside. Henry tells Aumerle to let her in, and York warns him again that by letting Aumerle live, the rest of the body will be infected. The Duchess addresses the king. York asks her if she wishes to raise another traitor. She kneels in front of the king and says she will walk forever on her knees unless he pardons her son. Aumerle kneels too, joining his prayers to hers. York kneels against them both, asking for Aumerle's punishment. The Duchess accuses York of false prayers and hypocrisy. Henry tells her to stand up. She tells him to say "pardon" first, and then she'll stand. York asks the king to say "pardonne-moi," a polite refusal. The Duchess points out that Henry hates French - they should just talk to the king in plain English. Henry finally pardons Aumerle, but orders the destruction of the rest of his group of traitors.


prompt:
Chapter: Scaena Quarta.

Enter Richard.

  Rich. I haue bin studying, how to compare
This Prison where I liue, vnto the World:
And for because the world is populous,
And heere is not a Creature, but my selfe,
I cannot do it: yet Ile hammer't out.
My Braine, Ile proue the Female to my Soule,
My Soule, the Father: and these two beget
A generation of still breeding Thoughts;
And these same Thoughts, people this Little World
In humors, like the people of this world,
For no thought is contented. The better sort,
As thoughts of things Diuine, are intermixt
With scruples, and do set the Faith it selfe
Against the Faith: as thus: Come litle ones: & then again,
It is as hard to come, as for a Camell
To thred the posterne of a Needles eye.
Thoughts tending to Ambition, they do plot
Vnlikely wonders; how these vaine weake nailes
May teare a passage through the Flinty ribbes
Of this hard world, my ragged prison walles:
And for they cannot, dye in their owne pride.
Thoughts tending to Content, flatter themselues,
That they are not the first of Fortunes slaues,
Nor shall not be the last. Like silly Beggars,
Who sitting in the Stockes, refuge their shame
That many haue, and others must sit there;
And in this Thought, they finde a kind of ease,
Bearing their owne misfortune on the backe
Of such as haue before indur'd the like.
Thus play I in one Prison, many people,
And none contented. Sometimes am I King;
Then Treason makes me wish my selfe a Beggar,
And so I am. Then crushing penurie,
Perswades me, I was better when a King:
Then am I king'd againe: and by and by,
Thinke that I am vn-king'd by Bullingbrooke,
And straight am nothing. But what ere I am,

Musick

Nor I, nor any man, that but man is,
With nothing shall be pleas'd, till he be eas'd
With being nothing. Musicke do I heare?
Ha, ha? keepe time: How sowre sweet Musicke is,
When Time is broke, and no Proportion kept?
So is it in the Musicke of mens liues:
And heere haue I the daintinesse of eare,
To heare time broke in a disorder'd string:
But for the Concord of my State and Time,
Had not an eare to heare my true Time broke.
I wasted Time, and now doth Time waste me:
For now hath Time made me his numbring clocke;
My Thoughts, are minutes; and with Sighes they iarre,
Their watches on vnto mine eyes, the outward Watch,
Whereto my finger, like a Dialls point,
Is pointing still, in cleansing them from teares.
Now sir, the sound that tels what houre it is,
Are clamorous groanes, that strike vpon my heart,
Which is the bell: so Sighes, and Teares, and Grones,
Shew Minutes, Houres, and Times: but my Time
Runs poasting on, in Bullingbrookes proud ioy,
While I stand fooling heere, his iacke o'th' Clocke.
This Musicke mads me, let it sound no more,
For though it haue holpe madmen to their wits,
In me it seemes, it will make wise-men mad:
Yet blessing on his heart that giues it me;
For 'tis a signe of loue, and loue to Richard,
Is a strange Brooch, in this all-hating world.
Enter Groome.

  Groo. Haile Royall Prince

   Rich. Thankes Noble Peere,
The cheapest of vs, is ten groates too deere.
What art thou? And how com'st thou hither?
Where no man euer comes, but that sad dogge
That brings me food, to make misfortune liue?
  Groo. I was a poore Groome of thy Stable (King)
When thou wer't King: who trauelling towards Yorke,
With much adoo, at length haue gotten leaue
To looke vpon my (sometimes Royall) masters face.
O how it yern'd my heart, when I beheld
In London streets, that Coronation day,
When Bullingbrooke rode on Roane Barbary,
That horse, that thou so often hast bestrid,
That horse, that I so carefully haue drest

   Rich. Rode he on Barbary? Tell me gentle Friend,
How went he vnder him?
  Groo. So proudly, as if he had disdain'd the ground

   Rich. So proud, that Bullingbrooke was on his backe;
That Iade hath eate bread from my Royall hand.
This hand hath made him proud with clapping him.
Would he not stumble? Would he not fall downe
(Since Pride must haue a fall) and breake the necke
Of that proud man, that did vsurpe his backe?
Forgiuenesse horse: Why do I raile on thee,
Since thou created to be aw'd by man
Was't borne to beare? I was not made a horse,
And yet I beare a burthen like an Asse,
Spur-gall'd, and tyrd by iauncing Bullingbrooke.
Enter Keeper with a Dish.

  Keep. Fellow, giue place, heere is no longer stay

   Rich. If thou loue me, 'tis time thou wer't away

   Groo. What my tongue dares not, that my heart shall
say.
Enter.

  Keep. My Lord, wilt please you to fall too?
  Rich. Taste of it first, as thou wer't wont to doo

   Keep. My Lord I dare not: Sir Pierce of Exton,
Who lately came from th' King, commands the contrary

   Rich. The diuell take Henrie of Lancaster, and thee;
Patience is stale, and I am weary of it

   Keep. Helpe, helpe, helpe.
Enter Exton and Seruants.

  Ri. How now? what meanes Death in this rude assalt?
Villaine, thine owne hand yeelds thy deaths instrument,
Go thou and fill another roome in hell.

Exton strikes him downe.

That hand shall burne in neuer-quenching fire,
That staggers thus my person. Exton, thy fierce hand,
Hath with the Kings blood, stain'd the Kings own land.
Mount, mount my soule, thy seate is vp on high,
Whil'st my grosse flesh sinkes downward, heere to dye

   Exton. As full of Valor, as of Royall blood,
Both haue I spilt: Oh would the deed were good.
For now the diuell, that told me I did well,
Sayes, that this deede is chronicled in hell.
This dead King to the liuing King Ile beare,
Take hence the rest, and giue them buriall heere.
Enter.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: At Windsor Castle we bump into a guy named Exton. Exton thinks he just heard King Henry say the following: "Have I no friend will rid me of this living fear?" But Exton's not sure he heard right, so he double checks with a servant, who says yep - Henry said that all right. Exton points out that King Henry was looking right at him when he said this and decides he was secretly ordering him to kill Richard.


prompt:
Chapter: Scoena Quinta.

Flourish. Enter Bullingbrooke, Yorke, with other Lords &
attendants.

  Bul. Kinde Vnkle Yorke, the latest newes we heare,
Is that the Rebels haue consum'd with fire
Our Towne of Cicester in Gloucestershire,
But whether they be tane or slaine, we heare not.
Enter Northumberland.

Welcome my Lord: What is the newes?
  Nor. First to thy Sacred State, wish I all happinesse:
The next newes is, I haue to London sent
The heads of Salsbury, Spencer, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appeare
At large discoursed in this paper heere

   Bul. We thank thee gentle Percy for thy paines,
And to thy worth will adde right worthy gaines.
Enter Fitzwaters.

  Fitz. My Lord, I haue from Oxford sent to London,
The heads of Broccas, and Sir Bennet Seely,
Two of the dangerous consorted Traitors,
That sought at Oxford, thy dire ouerthrow

   Bul. Thy paines Fitzwaters shall not be forgot,
Right Noble is thy merit, well I wot.
Enter Percy and Carlile.

  Per. The grand Conspirator, Abbot of Westminster,
With clog of Conscience, and sowre Melancholly,
Hath yeelded vp his body to the graue:
But heere is Carlile, liuing to abide
Thy Kingly doome, and sentence of his pride

   Bul. Carlile, this is your doome:
Choose out some secret place, some reuerend roome
More then thou hast, and with it ioy thy life:
So as thou liu'st in peace, dye free from strife:
For though mine enemy, thou hast euer beene,
High sparkes of Honor in thee haue I seene.
Enter Exton with a Coffin.

  Exton. Great King, within this Coffin I present
Thy buried feare. Heerein all breathlesse lies
The mightiest of thy greatest enemies
Richard of Burdeaux, by me hither brought

   Bul. Exton, I thanke thee not, for thou hast wrought
A deede of Slaughter, with thy fatall hand,
Vpon my head, and all this famous Land.

Ex.

From your owne mouth my Lord, did I this deed

   Bul. They loue not poyson, that do poyson neede,
Nor do I thee: though I did wish him dead,
I hate the Murtherer, loue him murthered.
The guilt of conscience take thou for thy labour,
But neither my good word, nor Princely fauour.
With Caine go wander through the shade of night,
And neuer shew thy head by day, nor light.
Lords, I protest my soule is full of woe,
That blood should sprinkle me, to make me grow.
Come mourne with me, for that I do lament,
And put on sullen Blacke incontinent:
Ile make a voyage to the Holy-land,
To wash this blood off from my guilty hand.
March sadly after, grace my mourning heere,
In weeping after this vntimely Beere.

Exeunt.

FINIS. The life and death of King Richard the Second.

Q: Can you write an appropriate summary of the above paragraphs?
A:

completion: In prison at Pomfret Castle, Richard gives a long, weird, but very poetic speech about his loneliness. He says he can't compare his prison to the rest of the world because the world is full of people and he is all alone in prison. Then he imagines that his brain is female and his soul is male. If his brain and soul could get together and breed, he could "people" his prison with a bunch of his thoughts. Then he imagines digging his way out of his walls and takes comfort in imagining other people who have also suffered. In this way he plays the roles of many people, though none of them are happy. Sometimes he is a king and wishes he were a beggar, since beggars are immune to treason. But poverty makes him think he was better off as king. In the end, he decides no man will be happy until he is "eased with being nothing" - that is, dead. A Groom comes in and tells Richard that he just saw Henry riding Richard's old horse through the streets on his way to be officially crowned king. Richard asks how "Barbary" behaved under his new master. Proudly, the groom says. Richard declares that his horse is an ingrate and a traitor. A Keeper comes in with a dish of food and tells the Groom to leave. The Groom reluctantly does so. The Keeper invites Richard to chow down, but Richard thinks this isn't a great idea. Maybe the Keeper should taste the food first, just to see what will happen. The Keeper says he doesn't dare: Sir Piers of Exton, who comes from the king, told him not to. Richard figures the plate of food has been poisoned. He declares, "The devil take Henry of Lancaster and thee!" and attacks the Keeper. Exton and four of his servants rush in. Richard snatches one of the servants' weapons and kills him with it. Then Richard kills another. Then Exton stabs Richard. Richard's not about to go down quietly. He accuses Exton of staining "the king's own land" with royal blood. Then he dies. Exton admires Richard's courage and says he feels kind of bad about killing the former king. He wishes he hadn't done it. They exit with the dead bodies.