Act III scene 2 - The Coast of Wales
Drums; flourish and colours. Enter KING RICHARD II, the BISHOP OF CARLISLE, DUKE OF AUMERLE, and Soldiers
KING RICHARD II
Barkloughly Castle call you this at hand?
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Yea, my Lord: how brooks your Grace the air,
After your late tossing on the breaking Seas?
KING RICHARD II
Needs must I like it well: I weep for joy
To stand upon my Kingdom once again. 5
Dear Earth, I do salute thee with my hand,
Though Rebels wound thee with their Horses' hoofs:
As a long-parted Mother with her Child
Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting;
So weeping, smiling, greet I thee my Earth, 10
And do thee favor with my Royal hands.
Feed not thy Sovereign's Foe, my gentle Earth,
But let thy Spiders lie in their way.
Yield stinging Nettles to mine Enemies;
And when they from thy Bosom pluck a Flower, 15
Guard it, I prithee, with a lurking Adder,
Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Throw death upon thy Sovereign's Enemies.
Mock not my senseless Conjuration, Lords;
This Earth shall have a feeling, and these Stones 20
Prove armed Soldiers, ere her Native King
Shall falter under foul Rebellious Arms.
BISHOP OF CARLISLE
Fear not my Lord, that Power that made you King
Hath power to keep you King in spite of all.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
He means, my Lord, that we are too remiss, 25
Whilst Bolingbroke, through our security,
Grows strong and great in substance and in friends.
KING RICHARD II
Discomfortable Cousin, know'st thou not
That when the searching Eye of Heaven is hid,
Behind the Globe, that lights the lower World, 30
Then Thieves and Robbers range abroad unseen
In Murders and in Outrage bloody here:
But when from under this Terrestrial Ball
He fires the proud tops of the Eastern Pines,
And darts his Lightning through every guilty hole, 35
Then Murders, Treasons, and detested sins,
The Cloak of Night being pluck'd from off their backs,
Stand bare and naked, trembling at themselves.
So when this Thief, this Traitor Bolingbroke,
Who all this while hath revell'd in the Night 40
Shall see us rising in our Throne, the East,
His Treasons will sit blushing in his face,
Not able to endure the sight of Day,
But self-affrighted, tremble at his sin.
Not all the Water in the rough rude Sea 45
Can wash the Balm off from an anointed King;
The breath of worldly men cannot depose
The Deputy elected by the Lord:
For every man that Bolingbroke hath press'd
To lift shrewd Steel against our Golden Crown, 50
God for his Richard hath in heavenly pay
A glorious Angel: then if Angels fight,
Weak men must fall, for Heaven still guards the right.
Enter BAGOT
Welcome Bagot, how far off lies your Power?
BAGOT
Nor near, nor farther off, my gracious Lord, 55
Than this weak arm; discomfort guides my tongue,
And bids me speak of nothing but despair:
One day too late, I fear, my Noble Lord,
Hath clouded all thy happy days on Earth:
Oh call back Yesterday, bid Time return, 60
And thou shalt have twelve thousand fighting men:
Today, today, unhappy day too late,
O'erthrows thy Joys, Friends, Fortune, and thy State;
For all the Welshmen, hearing thou wert dead,
Are gone to Bolingbroke, dispersed, and fled. 65
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Comfort my Liege, why looks your Grace so pale?
KING RICHARD II
But now the blood of twenty thousand men
Did triumph in my face, and they are fled,
And till so much blood thither come again,
Have I not reason to look pale, and dead? 70
All Souls that will be safe, fly from my side,
For Time hath set a blot upon my pride.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Comfort my Liege; remember who you are.
KING RICHARD II
I had forgot myself. Am I not king?
Awake, thou sluggard Majesty, thou sleepest: 75
Is not the King's Name forty thousand Names?
Arm, arm my Name: a puny subject strikes
At thy great glory. Look not to the ground,
Ye Favorites of a King: are we not high?
High be our thoughts: I know my Uncle York 80
Hath Power enough to serve our turn.
But who comes here?
Enter SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
More health and happiness betide my Liege
Than can my care-tuned tongue deliver him.
KING RICHARD II
Mine ear is open, and my heart prepared: 85
The worst is worldly loss thou canst unfold:
Say, Is my Kingdom lost? why 'twas my Care:
And what loss is it to be rid of Care?
Strives Bolingbroke to be as Great as we?
Greater he shall not be: If he serve God, 90
We'll serve him too, and be his Fellow so.
Revolt our Subjects? That we cannot mend;
They break their Faith to God, as well as us:
Cry Woe, Destruction, Ruin, Loss, Decay,
The worst is Death, and Death will have his day. 95
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
Glad am I that your Highness is so arm'd
To bear the tidings of Calamity.
Like an unseasonable stormy day,
So high above his Limits swells the Rage
Of Bolingbroke, covering your fearful Land 100
With hard bright Steel, and hearts harder than Steel:
White-beards have arm'd their thin and hairless Scalps
Against thy Majesty, and Boys with Women's Voices,
Strive to speak big, and clap their female joints
In stiff unwieldy Arms: against thy Crown, 105
The very Beadsmen learn to bend their Bows
Of double-fatal Yew: against thy State
Yea Distaff-Women manage rusty Bills:
Against thy Seat both young and old rebel,
And all goes worse than I have power to tell. 110
KING RICHARD II
Too well, too well thou tell'st a Tale so ill.
Where is the Earl of Wiltshire? where is York?
What is become of Bushy? where is Green?
That they have let the dangerous Enemy
Measure our Confines with such peaceful steps? 115
If we prevail, their heads shall pay for it.
I warrant they have made peace with Bolingbroke.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
Peace have they made with him indeed, my Lord.
KING RICHARD II
Oh Villains, Vipers, damn'd without redemption,
Dogs, easily won to fawn on any man, 120
Three Judases, each one thrice worse than Judas!
Would they make peace? terrible Hell make war
Upon their spotted Souls for this Offence.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
Sweet Love, I see, changing his property,
Turns to the sourest, and most deadly hate: 125
Again uncurse their Souls; their peace is made
With Heads, and not with Hands.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Is Bushy, Green, and the Earl of Wiltshire dead?
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
Aye, all of them at Bristol lost their heads.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Where is the Duke my Father with his Power? 130
KING RICHARD II
No matter where; of comfort no man speak:
Let's talk of Graves, of Worms, and Epitaphs,
Make Dust our Paper, and with Rainy eyes
Write Sorrow on the Bosom of the Earth.
Let's choose Executors, and talk of Wills: 135
And yet not so; for what can we bequeath,
Save our deposed bodies to the ground?
Our Lands, our Lives, and all are Bolingbroke's,
And nothing can we call our own, but Death,
And that small Model of the barren Earth, 140
Which serves as Paste and Cover to our Bones:
For God's sake let us sit upon the ground,
And tell sad stories of the death of Kings:
How some have been deposed, some slain in war,
Some haunted by the Ghosts they have deposed; 145
Some poison'd by their Wives, some sleeping kill'd,
All murder'd. For within the hollow Crown
That rounds the mortal Temples of a King
Keeps Death his Court, and there the Antic sits
Scoffing his State, and grinning at his Pomp, 150
Allowing him a breath, a little Scene,
To Monarchize, be fear'd, and kill with looks,
Infusing him with self and vain conceit,
As if this Flesh, which walls about our Life,
Were Brass impregnable: and humor'd thus 155
Comes at the last, and with a little Pin
Bores through his Castle Walls, and farewell King.
Cover your heads, and mock not flesh and blood
With solemn Reverence: throw away Respect,
Tradition, Form and Ceremonious duty, 160
For you have but mistook me all this while:
I live with Bread like you, feel Want,
Taste Grief, need Friends: subjected thus,
How can you say to me, I am a King?
BISHOP OF CARLISLE
My lord, wise men ne'er sit and wail their present woes, 165
But presently prevent the ways to wail:
Fear, and be slain, no worse can come to fight,
And fight and die is death destroying death,
Where fearing dying pays death servile breath.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
My Father hath a Power, inquire of him 170
And learn to make a Body of a Limb.
KING RICHARD II
Thou chid’st me well: proud Bolingbroke I come
To change Blows with thee for our day of doom:
This ague fit of fear is over-blown,
An easy task it is to win our own. 175
Say, Scroop, where lies our Uncle with his Power?
Speak sweetly man, although thy looks be sour.
SIR STEPHEN SCROOP
Men judge by the complexion of the Sky
The state and inclination of the day;
So may you by my dull and heavy Eye: 180
My Tongue hath but a heavier Tale to say.
Your Uncle York is join'd with Bolingbroke,
And all your Northern Castles yielded up,
And all your Southern Gentlemen in Arms
Upon his Faction.
KING RICHARD II
Thou hast said enough. 185
Beshrew thee Cousin, which didst lead me forth
Of that sweet way I was in to despair:
What say you now? What comfort have we now?
By heaven, I'll hate him everlastingly
That bids me be of comfort any more. 190
Go to Flint Castle, there I'll pine away,
A King, Woe's slave, shall Kingly Woe obey:
That Power I have, discharge, and let ‘em go
To ear the Land, that hath some hope to grow,
For I have none. Let no man speak again 195
To alter this, for counsel is but vain.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
My liege, one word.
KING RICHARD II
He does me double wrong
That wounds me with the flatteries of his tongue.
Discharge my followers: let them hence away,
From Richard's Night to Bolingbroke's fair Day.
Exeunt
------------------------- Intermission. Probably. --------------------------------
Richard arrives back from Ireland dressed for travel, in his red jacket, entering DSR with Aumerle, Carlisle, and a soldier following. They spread out around the DSR quadrant of the stage, with Richard kneeling (as he usually does) to kiss the ground. At the start of this scene, Richard is at his highest, convinced he is invincible.
At first we wanted to do this scene as a zoom call, with people dropping in with news throughout. Eventually that became impossible and the actors adapted some of the scene into a text conversation.
Scroop arrived from the back of the SL platform. At first, Richard is prepared to hear this news, convinced he can handle it. But Scroop's news is so much worse than expected, and he has so much detail to share.
Richard's responses in this scene are a rollercoaster - every time he thinks he's got his feet back under him, new information sends him into a tailspin. He goes from magnanimous gratitude, to confidence, to fear, to over-confidence, to shock, to anger, and into arguable the most famous speech in the play.
We experimented with a lot of different ways to do this speech. It started as a formal, prepared speech. Then we tried it almost as a story told to an acquaintance across a campfire. We let it be frazzled and ridiculous, with an energetic flail. The really exciting moment was when we let it start with a laugh, the kind of laugh that starts out as a silent shake, not because you find this funny, but because you have no other choice but to laugh, otherwise you'll weep. From there we were able to strip everything away and allow the speech to be immediate, a realization that burbles out without conscious thought.
This would have been one of the moments where Richard's public facade falls away and the mortal human within, fallible and wounded, is revealed.
The perfect song to transition out of this scene is Kanye West's "Runaway." The song's opening would overlap beautifully with the dialogue and highlight the uncertainty Richard is facing.
Kanye is one of the artists I correlate with Richard - someone whose fame and image eclipses their personal life. Kanye's public persona is so large, so ubiquitous, it is impossible to know who he truly is.
This is the first moment of Richard's fall, the first time we see doubt and fallacy come into his character. Placing intermission here highlights the tip in scales, so that when we return in the next scene, Richard and Henry are about to arrive at equal footing.