Bring forth these men.
Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls—
Since presently your souls must part your bodies—
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For ’twere no charity; yet to wash your blood
From off my hands, here in the view of men
I will unfold some causes of your deaths:
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappied and disfigured clean.
You have in manner with your sinful hours
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him,
Broke the possession of a royal bed,
And stained the beauty of a fair queen’s cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
Myself, a prince by fortune of my birth,
Near to the King in blood, and near in love
Till you did make him misinterpret me,
Have stooped my neck under your injuries
And sighed my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment,
Whilst you have fed upon my signories,
Disparked my parks and felled my forest woods,
From my own windows torn my household coat,
Rased out my imprese, leaving me no sign
Save men’s opinions and my living blood
To show the world I am a gentleman.
This and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death. See them delivered over
To execution and the hand of death.
Bring these men forward. Bushy and Green, I won't torment your souls before they leave your bodies—that wouldn't be charitable. But to clear the blood from my hands in everyone's sight, I'll explain why you deserve death. You've corrupted a prince and a royal king, a good man born to nobility, and destroyed his good nature completely. You've turned the king against his queen and broken up their marriage, staining her beautiful face with tears from the wrongs you've done her. I am a prince by birth, close to the King in blood and love, until you made him suspect me. I've bowed under your cruelty and suffered exile, eating the bitter bread of banishment, while you've stolen my estates, destroyed my parks and forests, torn my family crest from my own windows, erased my coat of arms, leaving me no proof I'm even a gentleman except people's opinion and my living blood. This and much more—twice all this and more—condemns you to death. Take them to execution and death.
Bring these men out. Bushy and Green, I'm not going to torture you with words before you die—that wouldn't be right. But I need to explain, right here in front of everyone, why you deserve to die. You've ruined the king, a good young man with royal blood, and destroyed everything good about him. You've turned him against his wife and wrecked their marriage, and made her cry from all the terrible things you did to her. I was the king's friend and relative, close to him by blood and love, until you poisoned him against me. You forced me into exile, made me eat nothing but the bitter taste of banishment, while you were stealing my property, cutting down my forests, ripping my family symbols right off my own house, erasing any proof that I'm even who I say I am. All of this—and I could say so much more—that's why you have to die. Take them away to be executed.
bring these guys forward you ruined the king & destroyed his marriage you turned him against me you stole everything from me - my land my forests my whole identity while i suffered in exile that's why you're dying
Bolingbroke's death speech in 3-1 is a performance, and a calculated one. He says he won't torture them with a long catalogue of their sins — then spends thirty lines doing exactly that. The self-awareness ('yet to wash your blood from off my hands...I will unfold some causes of your deaths') is remarkable: he knows this looks like an execution, and he wants the record to show it was something better than that. The charges against Bushy and Green are real: they did misuse Richard and abuse Bolingbroke's property. But the audience has just come from watching Bolingbroke be charming, modest, and generous in 2-3. The contrast is deliberate. The man who made promises about inheritance is now executing people on somewhat elastic charges. He's not wrong to execute them. But the ease with which he does it, the political precision of the public record, tells us what kind of king he will be.
More welcome is the stroke of death to me
Than Bolingbroke to England. Lords, farewell.
Death is more welcome to me than seeing you take England. Lords, goodbye.
I'd rather die than see you ruling. Goodbye.
id rather die than see you rule england goodbye
My comfort is that heaven will take our souls
And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
My only comfort is that heaven will take our souls and make injustice suffer in hell.
Heaven will judge. It will punish what's unjust.
heaven judges hell punishes this injustice
My Lord Northumberland, see them dispatched.
Northumberland, see that they are executed.
Northumberland, do it.
do it
Bolingbroke's final line — 'Come, lords, away, to fight with Glendower and his complices' — is a throwaway coda that opens the door to everything beyond this play. Owen Glendower (Owain Glyndŵr) will become one of the central figures of Henry IV Part 1, a Welsh rebel of extraordinary intelligence and cultural pride who will partner with Hotspur (Harry Percy) against the newly crowned Henry. The brief mention here is Shakespeare's signal that the political consequences of Bolingbroke's rise are not contained within this play. Every settlement creates new grievances. In Richard II, Bolingbroke needs Glendower as a threat to suppress; in Henry IV Part 1, Glendower will threaten to divide England three ways with Percy and Mortimer. The ripples from this scene keep spreading.
Uncle, you say the Queen is at your house;
For God’s sake, fairly let her be entreated.
Tell her I send to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be delivered.
Uncle, you say the Queen is staying at your house. For God's sake, treat her with courtesy and respect. Tell her that I send her my kind regards. Take special care that my greetings are delivered to her.
Uncle, I hear the Queen is with you. Please, treat her well and with respect. Tell her I send her my regards. Make sure she gets my message.
queen's w u? treat her well pls tell her i send regards make sure she gets it
A gentleman of mine I have dispatched
With letters of your love to her at large.
I have sent one of my men with letters expressing your affection to her.
I sent one of my people with a letter to her, showing how much you care.
sent a messenger with your love letter
Thanks, gentle uncle. Come, lords, away,
To fight with Glendower and his complices.
A while to work, and after holiday.
Thank you, kind uncle. Come, lords, let us go to fight with Glendower and his allies. A period of work now, then a time to rest.
Thanks, uncle. Come on, lords, let us go fight Glendower and his crew. Work now, then we can relax later.
thanks uncle let's fight glendower work now, rest later
The Reckoning
Fourteen chunks, one execution order, and a message to the Queen. What makes the scene remarkable is what it reveals about Bolingbroke: he is performing justice, not just exercising power. He itemizes the charges publicly 'in the view of men,' as if creating a legal record. The careful formality is itself an argument about legitimacy — he needs these deaths to look different from Richard's murder of Gloucester. Bushy and Green die well, which is the only dignity Shakespeare allows them.
If this happened today…
The incoming CEO calls a board meeting, has the former COO and head of communications brought in, and reads a carefully prepared statement explaining that they will be terminated for cause — not just fired, but documented: they misled the founder, damaged his reputation with investors, profited from company assets in his absence, and alienated the CEO's spouse. The termination language is precise enough to be read in discovery. One of them says he'd rather be fired than see this new guy in charge. The other says heaven will settle accounts. The new CEO says 'Northumberland, process the paperwork' and immediately pivots to next steps.