Richard II Shakespeare's work act iii scene ii
KING RICHARD THE SECOND
Needs must I like it well; I weep for joy To stand upon my kingdom once again. 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, And do thee favors with my royal hands. Feed not thy sovereign’s foe, my gentle earth, Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense, But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, And heavy-gaited toads lie in their way, Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet, Which with usurping steps do trample thee. Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies; And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower, Guard it, I pray thee, 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 Prove armed soldiers, ere her native king Shall falter under foul rebellion’s arms. BISHOP OF CARLISLE Fear not, my lord, that Power that made you king Hath power to keep you king in spite of all. The means that heavens yield must be embrac’d, And not neglected; else heaven would, And we will not. Heaven’s offer we refuse, The proffered means of succors and redress. DUKE OF AUMERLE He means, my lord, that we are too remiss, Whilst Bullingbrook, through our security, Grows strong and great in substance and in power. KING RICHARD THE SECOND Discomfortable cousin, know’st thou not That when the searching eye of heaven is hid Behind the globe, that lights the lower world, Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen In murders and in outrage boldly here, But when from under this terrestrial ball He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines And darts his light through every guilty hole, 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 Bullingbrook, Who all this while hath revell’d in the night, Whilst we were wand’ring with the antipodes
Richard II Shakespeare's work act iii scene ii. www.gutenberg.org


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