Call forth Bagot.
Bring Bagot forward.
Get Bagot.
bring bagot
Now, Bagot, freely speak thy mind,
What thou dost know of noble Gloucester’s death,
Who wrought it with the King, and who performed
The bloody office of his timeless end.
Now, Bagot, speak freely what you know about noble Gloucester's death—who conspired with the King to make it happen, and who actually carried out the terrible deed of ending his untimely life.
Bagot, come on and tell me what you know about Gloucester's death. Who worked with the King to set it up, and who did the actual killing?
bagot what do you know about gloucester's death who killed him
Then set before my face the Lord Aumerle.
Bring Aumerle before me.
Bring Aumerle here.
aumerle here
Cousin, stand forth, and look upon that man.
Cousin, stand forward and face your accuser.
Aumerle, get up.
stand face
My Lord Aumerle, I know your daring tongue
Scorns to unsay what once it hath delivered.
In that dead time when Gloucester’s death was plotted,
I heard you say “Is not my arm of length,
That reacheth from the restful English Court
As far as Calais, to mine uncle’s head?”
Amongst much other talk that very time
I heard you say that you had rather refuse
The offer of an hundred thousand crowns
Than Bolingbroke’s return to England,
Adding withal, how blest this land would be
In this your cousin’s death.
Lord Aumerle, I know your confident tongue won't take back what it has already said. At the time when Gloucester's death was being plotted, I heard you say 'Doesn't my arm reach far enough from the peaceful English court as far as Calais, to strike at my uncle's head?' And along with much other talk at that same time, I heard you say you would rather refuse an offer of a hundred thousand crowns than have Bolingbroke return to England, and you added that this land would be so blessed by your cousin's death.
Lord Aumerle, I know you never take back the brave things you say. When they were plotting Gloucester's death, I heard you ask if your arm was long enough to reach from the English court all the way to Calais and kill your uncle the king there. And at that same time, you said you'd rather turn down a hundred thousand crowns than see Bolingbroke return to England—you said this land would be so happy if your cousin was dead.
i heard you say your arm could reach to calais & kill the king there you said you'd refuse 100k crowns before letting bolingbroke return you said the land would be blessed if your cousin died
Princes and noble lords,
What answer shall I make to this base man?
Shall I so much dishonour my fair stars
On equal terms to give him chastisement?
Either I must, or have mine honour soiled
With the attainder of his slanderous lips.
There is my gage, the manual seal of death
That marks thee out for hell. I say thou liest,
And will maintain what thou hast said is false
In thy heart-blood, though being all too base
To stain the temper of my knightly sword.
Princes and lords, what answer can I give to this base man? Should I dishonor myself fighting someone so low? Either I fight or my honor is destroyed. Here is my gage—the death token. You're marked for hell. I say you lie, and I'll maintain by sword that what you've said is false.
How do I answer this guy? Do I really fight someone this low? My honor's either destroyed or I fight. Here's my glove. You're lying and I'll kill you to prove it.
gage lyou lie false
Bagot, forbear. Thou shalt not take it up.
Bagot, hold. You will not take it up.
Bagot, wait. Don't take his glove yet.
wait don't take it yet
Excepting one, I would he were the best
In all this presence that hath moved me so.
Except for one person, I would want him to be the most worthy of all here who have provoked my anger so.
I'd be fine with any of you except one—he's the one I'm really mad at.
honestly one of you is cool except like one guy
Fitzwater appears only in this scene, as one of the lords piling accusations on Aumerle. He has no individual character beyond his function: another noble taking this opportunity to settle scores. Watch him as evidence of how Bolingbroke's ascent has unleashed a general free-for-all of old grievances.
If that thy valour stand on sympathy,
There is my gage, Aumerle, in gage to thine.
By that fair sun which shows me where thou stand’st,
I heard thee say, and vauntingly thou spak’st it,
That thou wert cause of noble Gloucester’s death.
If thou deniest it twenty times, thou liest!
And I will turn thy falsehood to thy heart,
Where it was forged, with my rapier’s point.
If your valor depends on allies, here is my gage. I swear by the sun I heard you boast that you caused Gloucester's death. If you deny it twenty times, you still lie! I'll turn your falsehood back with my rapier where it was forged.
Here's my glove, Aumerle. I heard you say you killed Gloucester. You're a liar and I'll prove it.
gage gloucester lie rapier
Thou dar’st not, coward, live to see that day.
You don't have the courage, coward, to live long enough to see that day.
You're too much of a coward to even live long enough to see me prove you wrong.
ur too chicken to even make it to that day lol
Now, by my soul, I would it were this hour.
Now, by my soul, I wish it were happening right now, this very hour.
I swear to God, I wish it were already happening—right now, this second.
swear to god i wish it was happening rn
Fitzwater, thou art damned to hell for this.
Fitzwater, you are condemned to go to hell for this.
Fitzwater, you're damned for what you just said.
fitzwater you're going to hell for this
Aumerle, thou liest. His honour is as true
In this appeal as thou art an unjust;
And that thou art so, there I throw my gage,
To prove it on thee to the extremest point
Of mortal breathing. Seize it if thou dar’st.
Aumerle, you lie. His honor in this accusation is as true as you are unjust. Here is my gage. I'll prove it against you to the last breath. Seize it if you dare.
You're the liar, Aumerle. Here's my glove. I'll beat you to death if you need proof.
gage you lie prove it
And if I do not, may my hands rot off
And never brandish more revengeful steel
Over the glittering helmet of my foe!
And if I don't, may my hands rot off, And never again brandish a vengeful steel sword Over the shining helmet of my enemy!
And if I don't, I hope my hands literally rot off and I never get to swing my sword at you again.
if i dont my hands better rot off like im swearing on it
I task the earth to the like, forsworn Aumerle,
And spur thee on with full as many lies
As may be holloaed in thy treacherous ear
From sun to sun. There is my honour’s pawn.
Engage it to the trial if thou dar’st.
I challenge you, perjured Aumerle. As many lies as the sun witnesses, I'll drive at you. Here is my honor's pawn. Fight me if you dare.
Here's my glove too, Aumerle. You're a liar.
pawn gage challenge
Who sets me else? By heaven, I’ll throw at all.
I have a thousand spirits in one breast
To answer twenty thousand such as you.
Who else wants to throw gages? By heaven, I'll take on all of you! I have a thousand warriors in my heart to fight twenty thousand of you!
Who else? I'll fight everyone! I'm ready.
thousand spirits twenty thousand
Surrey defends Aumerle against Fitzwater, throwing his own gage. He too has no individual character beyond his loyalty to the old regime. His appearance — and immediate silencing — shows how royalist voices are systematically removed in this scene.
My Lord Fitzwater, I do remember well
The very time Aumerle and you did talk.
My Lord Fitzwater, I do recall clearly The exact time when Aumerle and you did speak.
Fitzwater, I remember exactly when you and Aumerle were talking about this.
yo fitzwater i remember when u talked to aumerle
The mirror scene (4-1-070 through 4-1-088) is the most discussed theatrical moment in the play, and the most philosophically dense. Richard asks for the mirror to see what face remains after his majesty has been stripped. When it arrives, he looks at it and finds — nothing has changed. No new wrinkles. The face looks the same as before. He finds this intolerable: how can such disaster have left no visible mark? And so he smashes it. The gesture reads as theatrical petulance until Bolingbroke responds: 'The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed / The shadow of your face.' That is: the mirror was only a shadow (a reflection) and the sorrow that shattered it was also only a shadow (a performance of grief). The real sorrow — and the real person — is somewhere else, invisible, inside. Bolingbroke turns out to be right. And Richard knows it: 'Say that again... 'Tis very true, my grief lies all within.' The smashing of the mirror is Richard's most theatrical act, and it's the moment where his theatricality is exposed by someone who has none.
’Tis very true. You were in presence then,
And you can witness with me this is true.
It is very true. You were present then, And you can witness with me that this is true.
It's absolutely true. You were there, and you can back me up on this.
its 100% true u were there vouching for me
As false, by heaven, as heaven itself is true.
That is as much a lie as heaven is genuinely true.
That's absolutely, completely false—as false as heaven is true, which is to say not false at all.
that bs is big cap
Surrey, thou liest.
Surrey, you are lying.
Surrey, you're full of it.
surrey ur lying tho
Dishonourable boy!
That lie shall lie so heavy on my sword
That it shall render vengeance and revenge
Till thou the lie-giver and that lie do lie
In earth as quiet as thy father’s skull.
In proof whereof, there is my honour’s pawn.
Engage it to the trial if thou dar’st.
That lie will be so heavy on my sword that it will demand vengeance until both you and that lie lie buried as quiet as your father's skull. Here is my honor's pawn. Fight me if you dare.
I'll kill you for that lie. Here's my glove. Fight me.
lie heavy sword vengeance
How fondly dost thou spur a forward horse!
If I dare eat, or drink, or breathe, or live,
I dare meet Surrey in a wilderness
And spit upon him, whilst I say he lies,
And lies, and lies. There is my bond of faith
To tie thee to my strong correction.
As I intend to thrive in this new world,
Aumerle is guilty of my true appeal.
Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say
That thou, Aumerle, didst send two of thy men
To execute the noble duke at Calais.
How eagerly do you push forward a horse that's already running! If I have the courage to eat, drink, breathe, or live, I have the courage to meet Surrey in a remote place And spit upon him while I say he lies, And he lies, and he lies. There is my bond of loyalty, To bind you to my strong punishment. As I intend to prosper in this new world, Aumerle is guilty of my true accusation. Besides, I heard the banished Norfolk say That you, Aumerle, sent two of your men To execute the noble duke at Calais.
Why do you keep pushing this forward so hard? If I can eat, drink, breathe, or stay alive—and I can—then I can meet Surrey anywhere and tell him to his face that he's a liar, over and over. I stake my honor on it. As I hope to do well in this new country under Bolingbroke, Aumerle is guilty of exactly what I'm accusing him of. Plus, the banished Norfolk himself told me that Aumerle sent two men to kill the Duke of Gloucester at Calais.
if i can breathe i can meet surrey and tell him hes lying aumerle 100% guilty plus norfolk said aumerle sent ppl to kill gloucester
Some honest Christian trust me with a gage.
That Norfolk lies, here do I throw down this,
If he may be repealed to try his honour.
Some honest Christian trust me with a gage. That Norfolk lies, I here throw down this token, If he may be allowed to return to prove his honor.
Is there an honest man here who'll let me put up my pledge? I'm calling Norfolk a liar, and I'm throwing down my gage—if they'll let him come back to England to defend his honor in combat.
let me throw down my gage if norfolk can come back we can settle this
These differences shall all rest under gage
Till Norfolk be repealed. Repealed he shall be,
And, though mine enemy, restored again
To all his lands and signories. When he is returned,
Against Aumerle we will enforce his trial.
These disputes shall all remain under pledge Until Norfolk is allowed to return. He shall be recalled, And, though he is my enemy, he shall be restored To all his lands and properties. When he comes back, We will enforce his trial against Aumerle.
All of these challenges stay locked in place until we bring Norfolk back. And we will bring him back—even though he's been against me, we'll restore all his land and titles. Once he gets back, then he and Aumerle can fight it out.
norfolk's coming back and when he does aumerle's gonna answer for this
That honourable day shall ne’er be seen.
Many a time hath banished Norfolk fought
For Jesu Christ in glorious Christian field,
Streaming the ensign of the Christian cross
Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens;
And, toiled with works of war, retired himself
To Italy, and there at Venice gave
His body to that pleasant country’s earth
And his pure soul unto his captain, Christ,
Under whose colours he had fought so long.
That honorable day will never happen to be seen. Many times banished Norfolk fought For Jesus Christ in glorious Christian battle, Flying the flag of the Christian cross Against black pagans, Turks, and Saracens; And, exhausted from works of war, he retired himself To Italy, and there at Venice gave His body to that pleasant country's ground And his pure soul to his captain, Christ, Under whose colors he had fought for so long.
That will never happen. Norfolk fought many times for Christ in those holy wars against the pagans and Turks. He wore himself out with warfare and ended up in Italy at Venice, where he died. His body's in the ground there, and his soul's with Christ—that's where his loyalty was.
norfolk's already dead he died in italy fighting for christ body's in the ground there
Why, Bishop, is Norfolk dead?
So Bishop, you're saying that Norfolk has passed away?
Hold on—are you telling me Norfolk's actually dead?
wait norfolk's dead?
As surely as I live, my lord.
On my life, my lord, it is the truth.
Yes, as sure as I'm standing here alive.
yeah for sure
Sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the bosom
Of good old Abraham! Lords appellants,
Your differences shall all rest under gage
Till we assign you to your days of trial.
May sweet peace conduct his sweet soul to the lap Of good old Abraham! Lords who bring accusations, Your disputes shall all remain under pledge Until we assign you to your dates of trial.
May peace guide his soul to heaven with Abraham. Alright, you lords who are accusing each other—all your challenges stay on hold until we schedule your fights.
rip norfolk yall's fights are postponed
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to thee
From plume-plucked Richard, who with willing soul
Adopts thee heir, and his high sceptre yields
To the possession of thy royal hand.
Ascend his throne, descending now from him,
And long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to you from Richard who has been stripped of power, who willingly adopts you as his heir and gives his royal scepter into your hands. Step onto his throne, coming down from him, and long live Henry, of that name the fourth!
Great Duke of Lancaster, I come to you from Richard, who's lost his power. He's choosing you as his heir and giving you his royal scepter. Take his throne, and long live Henry the fourth!
richard gives you his throne & scepter long live henry the fourth
In God’s name, I’ll ascend the regal throne.
In the name of God, I will take the royal throne.
By God's name, I'm taking this throne.
by god i'm doing this
Marry, God forbid!
Worst in this royal presence may I speak,
Yet best beseeming me to speak the truth.
Would God that any in this noble presence
Were enough noble to be upright judge
Of noble Richard! Then true noblesse would
Learn him forbearance from so foul a wrong.
What subject can give sentence on his king?
And who sits here that is not Richard’s subject?
Thieves are not judged but they are by to hear,
Although apparent guilt be seen in them;
And shall the figure of God’s majesty,
His captain, steward, deputy elect,
Anointed, crowned, planted many years,
Be judged by subject and inferior breath,
And he himself not present? O, forfend it, God,
That in a Christian climate souls refined
Should show so heinous, black, obscene a deed!
I speak to subjects, and a subject speaks,
Stirred up by God, thus boldly for his king.
My Lord of Hereford here, whom you call king,
Is a foul traitor to proud Hereford’s king.
And if you crown him, let me prophesy
The blood of English shall manure the ground
And future ages groan for this foul act.
Peace shall go sleep with Turks and infidels,
And in this seat of peace tumultuous wars
Shall kin with kin and kind with kind confound.
Disorder, horror, fear, and mutiny
Shall here inhabit, and this land be called
The field of Golgotha and dead men’s skulls.
O, if you raise this house against this house,
It will the woefullest division prove
That ever fell upon this cursed earth.
Prevent it, resist it, let it not be so,
Lest child, child’s children, cry against you, “woe!”
I must speak even though it's against my position. And frankly, it would be most fitting for me to speak the truth. Would God that anyone in this noble group were noble enough to be a fair judge of noble Richard. Then true nobility would teach him to avoid such a foul wrong. What subject can judge his own king? And who here is not Richard's subject? Even thieves are heard before they're judged, though their guilt is obvious. But shall God's majesty itself, his representative, steward, chosen deputy, crowned and anointed and king for many years—shall he be judged by subjects who are beneath him, and while he's not even present? God forbid this should happen in a Christian land where refined souls should show such heinous, black, shameful behavior. I speak as a subject, and a subject speaks—stirred up by God—boldly for his king. This Lord Hereford you call king is a foul traitor to Richard, the true king. And if you crown him, I tell you this: English blood will water this ground, and future generations will curse this foul act. Peace will abandon this land for Turks and pagans, and this place of peace will become a place of endless war. Families will fight families, and one kind against another. Disorder, horror, fear, and chaos will live here, and this land will be called the field of Golgotha, a place of dead men's skulls. If you raise this house against that house, it will be the worst division ever seen on cursed earth. Stop it, resist it, don't let it happen, or your children and your children's children will cry out against you: 'Woe!'
I have to speak up, even though I shouldn't. But it's the right thing to do. I wish someone here was noble enough to fairly judge Richard. Then real nobility would teach him to not do something so wrong. What subject can judge his own king? Everyone here is Richard's subject. Even criminals get to hear what they're accused of, though we can see they're guilty. But God's chosen king himself—anointed, crowned, ruling for years—is he going to be judged by his subjects who are beneath him? And when he's not even here? God, stop this. This shouldn't happen in a Christian country where refined people would do something so evil. I'm speaking as a subject, but God is making me speak boldly for the king. This guy Hereford, who you're calling king, is a traitor to Richard. And if you crown him, I'm telling you: blood will soak this ground. Your descendants will curse what you're doing today. Peace is done with this place. Now you'll have endless war. Families fighting families. Chaos and fear everywhere. This will be like Golgotha—a field of dead. If you turn this house against itself, it'll be the worst thing that ever happened. Stop it. Stop it now. Or your kids and grandkids will curse you for it.
you can't judge your own king if you crown bolingbroke, blood will soak this ground families will war with each other future generations will curse you for this stop it now
Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.
May it please you, lords, to grant the commons’ suit?
You have argued well, sir; and, for your efforts, We arrest you here for capital treason. My Lord of Westminster, let it be your duty To keep him safely until his trial date. May it please you, lords, to grant what the commons are requesting?
That was a good speech, but you're under arrest for treason now. Westminster, you keep him locked up until trial. My lords, should we give the commons what they want?
good speech but ur arrested for treason westminster lock him up should we let the ppl have what they want
Fetch hither Richard, that in common view
He may surrender. So we shall proceed
Without suspicion.
Bring Richard here, so that in front of everyone He can surrender the crown. So we will proceed Without suspicion.
Go get Richard and bring him here so he can give up the crown in front of all these people. That way nobody can say we forced him.
get richard so he can hand over the crown himself
I will be his conduct.
I will be his guide.
I'll go get him.
i got it
Lords, you that here are under our arrest,
Procure your sureties for your days of answer.
Little are we beholding to your love,
And little looked for at your helping hands.
Lords, you who here are under arrest, Arrange your sureties for your trial dates. We are not very grateful for your support, And we didn't really expect help from your hands.
You lords who are under arrest need to arrange bail for yourselves until trial. And frankly, we're not especially thankful for whatever support you claim you gave us—we didn't expect much from you anyway.
yall need bail for trial andwe're not even that grateful lol
Alack, why am I sent for to a king
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reigned? I hardly yet have learned
To insinuate, flatter, bow, and bend my knee.
Give sorrow leave awhile to tutor me
To this submission. Yet I well remember
The favours of these men. Were they not mine?
Did they not sometime cry “All hail!” to me?
So Judas did to Christ, but He in twelve,
Found truth in all but one; I, in twelve thousand, none.
God save the King! Will no man say, “Amen”?
Am I both priest and clerk? Well then, amen.
God save the King, although I be not he,
And yet, Amen, if heaven do think him me.
To do what service am I sent for hither?
Oh, why am I being sent for like a prisoner before a king, when I haven't even adjusted to no longer being one? I've hardly learned how to act like someone without power—to bow, flatter, bend the knee. Give me time to learn this submission through sorrow. Yet I remember how these men treated me. Weren't they mine to command? Didn't they once shout 'All hail!' to me? Just as Judas did to Christ—but Christ had twelve disciples and found truth in all but one. I have twelve thousand subjects and found truth in none. 'God save the King'—will no one say Amen? Am I both priest and clerk now? Well then, Amen. God save the King, even though I'm not the one. Yes, Amen, if heaven thinks I still am. What service am I here to do?
Why am I being dragged here like a prisoner before a king when I haven't even adjusted to not being one anymore? I haven't learned yet how to grovel, how to flatter, how to bow. Give me time to get used to losing everything. But I remember these men. They were mine once. They used to shout 'All hail!' at me. Judas did the same to Christ, but Christ had twelve and found one traitor. I had thousands and didn't find a single loyal one. 'God save the King'—is anyone going to say Amen? Am I supposed to be both priest and clerk? Okay then, Amen. God save the King, even though that's not me anymore. Amen, if God thinks I still am. So what do you want from me?
why am i here when i haven't even adjusted to losing the crown i taught these men everything they shouted 'all hail' for me and now i'm alone what do you want from me
The first forty chunks of 4-1 constitute a chaotic gage-throwing session that directly mirrors the opening of the play (1-1), where Bolingbroke threw down his gage against Mowbray before Richard. That scene was governed: Richard controlled the ritual, set the terms, called the combatants back. This scene is ungovernable. Fitzwater, Percy, Surrey, and 'Another Lord' all throw gages in rapid succession; Aumerle runs out of his own gages and has to borrow one. The medieval honor system, which the play showed working imperfectly in 1-1, has now completely broken down under the new regime. Bolingbroke cannot control it; he can only postpone it. The historical irony is that this is exactly what Gaunt predicted Richard would face if he continued to abuse the honor system — the nobility's violence turned inward, consuming itself.
To do that office of thine own good will
Which tired majesty did make thee offer:
The resignation of thy state and crown
To Henry Bolingbroke.
To do that duty that your own goodwill Which tired majesty did request of you to perform: The surrender of your power and crown To Henry Bolingbroke.
To do the thing that Richard already asked you to do of your own free will—which is to hand over your power and your crown to Henry Bolingbroke.
to hand over ur crown to bolingbroke like u already agreed to
Give me the crown. Here, cousin, seize the crown.
Here, cousin,
On this side my hand, and on that side thine.
Now is this golden crown like a deep well
That owes two buckets, filling one another,
The emptier ever dancing in the air,
The other down, unseen, and full of water.
That bucket down and full of tears am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
Give me the crown. Go on, cousin, take the crown. Here on my side and there on yours. Now this golden crown is like a deep well with two buckets. One bucket fills while the other empties, always dancing in the air while the other goes down, unseen and full of water. I am that lower bucket, full of tears, drinking my grief while you rise high on the other side.
Give me the crown. Here, cousin, take it. Look—my hand on one side, yours on the other. This golden crown is like a deep well with two buckets attached. When one fills up, the other empties out—one always high in the air, the other down below, full of water. I'm that bucket at the bottom, full of tears, drinking my sorrow while you get lifted up to the top.
this crown is like a well with two buckets one bucket goes up while the other goes down i'm the one full of tears at the bottom while you rise to the top
I thought you had been willing to resign.
I thought you were willing to give up the crown.
I thought you wanted to do this.
thought u were cool w this
My crown I am, but still my griefs are mine.
You may my glories and my state depose,
But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
My crown I am giving away, but still my griefs are mine. You may take away my glory and my kingship, But not my griefs; still am I king of those.
Fine, I'm giving up the crown. But I'm keeping my pain—you can have the glory and the power, but my misery is mine to rule over.
u can have the crown but the pain is mine
Part of your cares you give me with your crown.
You receive some of your problems along with your crown.
You're taking on some of my burdens when you take the crown.
u just took on my problems too
Your cares set up do not pluck my cares down.
My care is loss of care, by old care done;
Your care is gain of care, by new care won.
The cares I give I have, though given away;
They ’tend the crown, yet still with me they stay.
Your problems you're accepting do not take away my problems. My problem is the loss of my power, caused by my own power fading; Your problem is gaining power from this new situation. The problems I am handing over I still have, even though I'm giving them away; They belong with the crown, yet they stay with me.
You taking on problems doesn't mean I stop having them. My loss is my own—caused by my own weakness. Your gain is from this moment. But the problems I'm handing over are still mine to carry too. They go with the crown, but they also stay stuck with me.
the problems i give u r still mine like i keep them even when i hand em over
Are you contented to resign the crown?
Are you willing to give up the crown?
Will you do this?
u gonna do this or nah
Ay, no; no, ay; for I must nothing be.
Therefore no “no”, for I resign to thee.
Now mark me how I will undo myself:
I give this heavy weight from off my head,
And this unwieldy sceptre from my hand,
The pride of kingly sway from out my heart;
With mine own tears I wash away my balm,
With mine own hands I give away my crown,
With mine own tongue deny my sacred state,
With mine own breath release all duteous oaths.
All pomp and majesty I do forswear;
My manors, rents, revenues, I forgo;
My acts, decrees, and statutes, I deny.
God pardon all oaths that are broke to me;
God keep all vows unbroke are made to thee.
Make me, that nothing have, with nothing grieved,
And thou with all pleased that hast all achieved.
Long mayst thou live in Richard’s seat to sit,
And soon lie Richard in an earthly pit!
God save King Henry, unkinged Richard says,
And send him many years of sunshine days!
What more remains?
Yes and no, no and yes, because I must become nothing. So I won't say no, I'll resign it to you. Watch me undo myself: I take this heavy weight from my head, this awkward scepter from my hand, the pride of kingship from my heart. I wash away my royal anointing with my own tears, give away my crown with my own hands, deny my sacred state with my own tongue, release all the oaths that bound my people to me with my own breath. I reject all the ceremony and grandeur. I give up my estates, incomes, and revenues. I deny my laws and decrees. God forgive all the oaths that were broken to me. God keep all the vows people make to you. Make me have nothing and grieve for nothing, and let you have everything and be pleased with it all. May you live long on Richard's throne, and may Richard soon lie in an earthly grave. God save King Henry, says the unkinged Richard, and give him many years of good days! What else?
Yes and no, no and yes—because I have to become nothing. So I won't say no. I resign to you. Watch me tear apart my own kingship: I lift this heavy crown from my head, this scepter from my hand, the pride of being king from my heart. I wash away the sacred oil with my own tears, hand over my crown with my own hands, cancel my royal status with my own voice, release all the oaths people swore to me with my own breath. I'm done with all the pomp and show. I'm giving up my lands, my money, everything I own. I'm canceling my laws and orders. God, forgive everyone who broke their oaths to me. God, keep everyone loyal to him. Let me have nothing and not care, and let him have everything and be happy. May you rule long from Richard's seat, and may I soon be in the ground. God save King Henry, says Richard who is now nobody. Give him good years ahead! Is there anything else?
i renounce everything my crown my throne my power i take back the sacred oil i release all my subjects' oaths i'm nothing now god save king henry
[_Offering a paper_.] No more, but that you read
These accusations, and these grievous crimes
Committed by your person and your followers
Against the state and profit of this land;
That, by confessing them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily deposed.
Nothing more needs to be said except that you read these accusations, and these serious crimes committed by you and your followers against the state and prosperity of this land; so that by confessing them, people's consciences may judge that you deserve to be rightfully removed from power.
Just read these charges against you and your crew. These are serious crimes against the kingdom and its wealth. If you confess to them, people will understand why you've been rightly removed from power.
read the charges man you and your people messed with the kingdom confess and everyone gets it
Must I do so? And must I ravel out
My weaved-up follies? Gentle Northumberland,
If thy offences were upon record,
Would it not shame thee in so fair a troop
To read a lecture of them? If thou wouldst,
There shouldst thou find one heinous article
Containing the deposing of a king
And cracking the strong warrant of an oath,
Marked with a blot, damned in the book of heaven.
Nay, all of you that stand and look upon me
Whilst that my wretchedness doth bait myself,
Though some of you, with Pilate, wash your hands,
Showing an outward pity, yet you Pilates
Have here delivered me to my sour cross,
And water cannot wash away your sin.
Must I do this? And must I untangle My woven-together mistakes? Gentle Northumberland, If your crimes were written down in a record, Would it not embarrass you in such a fine group To have them read aloud? If you were willing, There you would find one serious charge Containing the removal of a king And violating the strong oath you swore, Marked with a stain, condemned in heaven's book. No, all of you who stand and watch me While my misery torments me, Though some of you, like Pilate, wash your hands, Showing an outward sympathy, yet you Pilates Have delivered me here to my bitter suffering, And water cannot wash away your guilt.
Do I have to? Do I really have to list out all my mistakes? Northumberland, if your crimes were written down and someone read them in front of all these important people, wouldn't you be ashamed? Well, you'd find one really serious thing written there—about removing a king and breaking your sacred oath. That's marked down in God's book. And all of you standing here watching me suffer—even if you act like Pilate and wash your hands of it, pretending you feel bad, you're actually all the ones who handed me over. No amount of washing will clean your hands of that.
i gotta say all my mistakes? northumberland ur oath-breaking is written down too u all delivered me here like pilate
My lord, dispatch. Read o’er these articles.
My lord, hurry up. Read these accusations aloud.
Come on, let's move this along. Read those charges.
hurry up read the charges
Mine eyes are full of tears; I cannot see:
And yet salt water blinds them not so much
But they can see a sort of traitors here.
Nay, if I turn mine eyes upon myself,
I find myself a traitor with the rest;
For I have given here my soul’s consent
T’ undeck the pompous body of a king,
Made glory base and sovereignty a slave,
Proud majesty a subject, state a peasant.
My eyes are full of tears; I cannot see: And yet salt water doesn't blind them so much That they can't see a group of traitors here. No, if I look at myself, I find myself a traitor along with the rest; Because I have given here my soul's consent To strip the ornate body of a king, Made glory ordinary and royal power a servant, Proud majesty a subject, position a peasant.
My eyes are full of tears and I can barely see. But even through the tears I can spot all the traitors standing right here. And when I look at myself—I'm the biggest traitor of all. I've agreed to strip away the royal dignity, made glory into something common, turned power into slavery, and made the throne into a peasant's bench.
i can barely see thru my tears but i see all the traitors including myself lol i destroyed the crown myself
My lord—
My lord—
Your majesty—
my lord—
No lord of thine, thou haught insulting man,
Nor no man’s lord! I have no name, no title,
No, not that name was given me at the font,
But ’tis usurped. Alack the heavy day!
That I have worn so many winters out
And know not now what name to call myself.
O, that I were a mockery king of snow,
Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke,
To melt myself away in water-drops!
Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good,
An if my word be sterling yet in England,
Let it command a mirror hither straight,
That it may show me what a face I have,
Since it is bankrupt of his majesty.
No lord of yours, you arrogant disrespectful man, And no man's lord! I have no name, no title, No, not even that name I was given at baptism, But it is stolen from me. Sadly the heavy day! That I have lived so many years And don't know now what name to call myself. Oh, if only I were a fake king made of snow, Standing before the sun of Bolingbroke, To melt myself away in water-drops! Good king, great king, and yet not greatly good, And if my word still has value in England, Let it command a mirror to be brought straight here, So that it can show me what face I have, Since it is bankrupt of its royal dignity.
You're not my lord, you arrogant jerk, and I'm nobody's lord anymore! I have no name, no title—not even the name I got at my baptism, because that's been stolen from me too. What a sad day! I've lived all these years and now I don't even know who I am. I wish I were just a snowman standing in front of Bolingbroke's sun, so I could melt away. Good king, great king—but not actually good or great. If my word still means anything in England, send for a mirror so I can see what this bankrupt face looks like now that I've lost my royal dignity.
im not anybody now i dont even know my own name wish i was a snowman show me what i look like now
Go, some of you, and fetch a looking-glass.
Go, some of you, and bring a mirror here.
Someone go get a mirror.
get a mirror
Read o’er this paper while the glass doth come.
Read these papers while the mirror is being brought.
Go ahead and read those charges while we wait for the mirror.
read that stuff while we wait
Fiend, thou torments me ere I come to hell!
Cruel one, you torment me before I even reach hell!
You're torturing me before I even die and go to hell!
ur torturing me before hell even gets me
Urge it no more, my Lord Northumberland.
Enough. Stop speaking of this.
That's enough.
stop enough
The commons will not then be satisfied.
The people will not be satisfied otherwise.
The commons won't accept anything less.
the ppl won't be cool w it otherwise
They shall be satisfied. I’ll read enough
When I do see the very book indeed
Where all my sins are writ, and that’s myself.
They will be satisfied. I will read enough When I actually see the real book Where all my sins are written, and that is myself.
They'll be satisfied. I'll read all I need to read when I look in that mirror and see the book of all my sins—which is my own face.
ill read enough when i see myself my face is the book of my sins
Richard's abdication speech ('Now mark me how I will undo myself') is structured as a deliberate reversal of the coronation ceremony. A coronation proceeds through investiture (crown, sceptre, robes), anointing, and the taking of oaths from subjects. Richard systematically reverses each element: he gives the crown from his head, the sceptre from his hand, washes away his anointing with tears, releases all oaths sworn to him. The reversal is theologically significant: the Church held that coronation anointing was permanent and irrevocable — it left an indelible spiritual mark. Richard's claim to wash it away with tears is either an act of genuine spiritual power or a theatrical impossibility. Shakespeare lets both readings stand. What's most remarkable is that Richard performs this ceremony himself: Bolingbroke does not crown himself or formally depose Richard — Richard does it. This is Richard's last and greatest act of kingship: to undo his kingship on his own terms.
Give me that glass, and therein will I read.
No deeper wrinkles yet? Hath sorrow struck
So many blows upon this face of mine
And made no deeper wounds? O flatt’ring glass,
Like to my followers in prosperity,
Thou dost beguile me. Was this face the face
That every day under his household roof
Did keep ten thousand men? Was this the face
That like the sun did make beholders wink?
Is this the face which faced so many follies,
That was at last outfaced by Bolingbroke?
A brittle glory shineth in this face.
As brittle as the glory is the face!
Give me the mirror and I'll look at my reflection. No deeper wrinkles yet? Has sorrow struck so many blows upon my face without leaving deeper marks? Oh, you deceiving mirror, just like my followers when times were good, you trick me. Was this the face that kept ten thousand men in his household every day? Was this the face that like the sun made people squint? Is this the face that overcame so many troubles, only to be finally overcome by Bolingbroke? A fragile glory shines in this face. And the glory is as fragile as the face itself!
Give me the mirror. Let me look. No deeper wrinkles than that? Grief's hit me so many times but my face barely shows it? Oh, you're a liar just like my fair-weather friends—you trick me. This was the face that kept ten thousand men under one roof. This was the face that blazed like the sun and made people squint. This was the face that got past every problem, until Bolingbroke got past it. There's a fragile beauty shining here. Beauty as fragile as this face.
give me the mirror no deeper wrinkles gief hit me so hard was this the face that kept thousands the face that blazed like the sun now beaten by bolingbroke fragile glory here
For there it is, cracked in an hundred shivers.
Mark, silent king, the moral of this sport,
How soon my sorrow hath destroyed my face.
Look, there's the mirror cracked into a hundred pieces. Pay close attention, silent king, to the lesson in this game—how quickly my sorrow has destroyed my face.
There it is, shattered into a hundred pieces. Watch this, silent king. See how fast your grief ruins your face? That's what my sadness just did.
mirror's cracked in pieces watch what grief does it destroys your face so fast
The shadow of your sorrow hath destroyed
The shadow of your face.
The shadow of your sorrow has destroyed The shadow of your face.
Your grief has worn away your appearance.
ur sadness destroyed ur face
Say that again.
The shadow of my sorrow? Ha, let’s see.
’Tis very true, my grief lies all within;
And these external manner of laments
Are merely shadows to the unseen grief
That swells with silence in the tortured soul.
There lies the substance. And I thank thee, king,
For thy great bounty, that not only giv’st
Me cause to wail, but teachest me the way
How to lament the cause. I’ll beg one boon,
And then be gone and trouble you no more.
Shall I obtain it?
Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow? Let me think about that. It's very true—my real grief is hidden inside. All these tears and laments I show are just shadows of the real suffering deep in my soul that swells in silence. That's where the real pain is. And I thank you, king, for being so generous—not only giving me reason to cry, but also teaching me how to cry about the reason. I'll ask you for one thing, and then I'll leave you alone. Will you grant it to me?
Say that again. The shadow of my sorrow? Okay, yeah, that makes sense. It's true—my real grief is all bottled up inside. All these tears and sad words are just the outside version of the real pain deep in my soul that stays quiet but hurts like hell. That's where it really is. And thanks, king, for being so generous. You didn't just give me a reason to cry—you taught me how to cry about it. I'll ask you for one favor, and then I'll get out of your hair. Will you give it to me?
the shadow of my sorrow my real grief is hidden inside the tears are just shadows the real pain stays silent in my soul
Name it, fair cousin.
Name it, my dear cousin.
Tell me what you want.
ask for it
“Fair cousin”? I am greater than a king;
For when I was a king, my flatterers
Were then but subjects. Being now a subject,
I have a king here to my flatterer.
Being so great, I have no need to beg.
My dear cousin? I am greater than a king; Because when I was a king, my flatterers Were merely subjects. Being now a subject, I have a king here to flatter me. Being so high, I have no need to ask.
Dear cousin? I'm more powerful than a king right now. When I was actually king, my flatterers were just subjects. Now that I'm a subject, I have a king here flattering me. Being in such a strange position, I don't need to beg for anything.
im greater than a king now when i was king ppl flattered me now im being flattered as a subject im good
Yet ask.
Still, please ask.
Ask anyway.
just ask
And shall I have?
And will I have it?
And will you give it to me?
will u give it
You shall.
You will have it.
Yes.
yeah
Then give me leave to go.
Then let me have permission to leave.
Then let me go.
so let me leave
Whither?
Where to?
Where?
where tho
Whither you will, so I were from your sights.
Wherever you want, as long as I am away from your sight.
Anywhere, as long as I'm not in front of you anymore.
anywhere just not in front of u
Go, some of you, convey him to the Tower.
Some of you escort him and deliver him to the Tower.
Take him to the Tower.
get him to the tower
O, good! “Convey”? Conveyers are you all,
That rise thus nimbly by a true king’s fall.
Oh, very clever! Conveying? You who convey him Are all profiting nimbly from a true king's downfall.
Oh, that's funny—'conveying' him? You're all just making your fortune by smoothly stepping over the fall of a real king.
yall rising up fast off a real kings collapse shady
On Wednesday next we solemnly set down
Our coronation. Lords, prepare yourselves.
On Wednesday coming we formally establish Our coronation ceremony. Lords, prepare yourselves.
We're doing the coronation next Wednesday. Get ready, everyone.
coronation's wednesday get ready
The Abbot of Westminster has three lines, but they launch the conspiracy that runs through Act 5. He is careful, guarded, and shrewd — he requires the sacramental oath before he'll speak. His 'merry day' is a plot to assassinate Henry.
A woeful pageant have we here beheld.
A sad spectacle we have witnessed here.
That was a terrible thing to watch.
that was sad to watch
The woe’s to come. The children yet unborn
Shall feel this day as sharp to them as thorn.
The sadness is still to come. The children not yet born Will feel this day as painful as a thorn pricks them.
The real tragedy is still ahead. Kids not even born yet will suffer because of what happened today.
the real sadness hasnt come yet future kids gonna pay for this
You holy clergymen, is there no plot
To rid the realm of this pernicious blot?
You holy religious men, is there no plan To rid the kingdom of this destructive harm?
You priests—is there any way to get rid of this evil that's taken over the kingdom?
yall priests got no plan to fix this mess
My lord,
Before I freely speak my mind herein,
You shall not only take the sacrament
To bury mine intents, but also to effect
Whatever I shall happen to devise.
I see your brows are full of discontent,
Your hearts of sorrow, and your eyes of tears.
Come home with me to supper. I will lay
A plot shall show us all a merry day.
My lord, before I speak freely about what's in my mind, you'll have to take an oath—not just to keep my plans secret, but also to help carry them out, whatever I come up with. I see your foreheads are full of worry, your hearts full of sorrow, and your eyes full of tears. Come home with me for supper. I have a plan that will give us all a day to celebrate.
My lord, before I tell you what I'm thinking, you have to swear an oath. Not just to keep it quiet, but to actually help me do it, whatever I come up with. I can see you're all upset and sad and crying. Come to my place for dinner. I've got a plan that'll give us all something to smile about.
swear an oath to keep this secret and help me execute it i have a plan come to dinner we'll have something to celebrate
The Reckoning
One hundred and eight chunks, the longest and most formally complex scene in the play. It has three distinct movements: the chaotic gage-throwing session (mirroring 1-1 but now uncontrollable), the abdication ceremony, and the mirror. What makes the scene extraordinary is that Richard performs his own deposition — Bolingbroke never takes the crown, Richard gives it. The ceremony of 'undoing' is Richard's last great performance, and it is real and theatrical simultaneously. Carlisle's prophecy delivers the play's moral thesis: this act will generate wars for generations. And then everyone leaves except three conspirators, who begin planning to reverse it.
If this happened today…
The new CEO has called a board meeting. First: a chaotic session where executives start accusing each other of past crimes, throwing metaphorical challenges, and the CEO barely holds it together. Then: the outgoing CEO is brought in to resign on the record, publicly, with the full board watching. He gives a long speech about it, holds the company seal like it's the last thing he owns, asks for a mirror, smashes it, and is escorted out. As the room empties, the general counsel, a senior VP, and one loyalist stay behind. The general counsel says: 'Before I speak freely, everyone swears on the sacrament. Come to my house for dinner. I have a plan.'