You would have thought the very windows spake, 12
So many greedy looks of young and old
Through casements darted their desiring eyes
Upon his visage, and that all the walls
With had said at once 16
'Jesu preserve thee! welcome, Bolingbroke!'
Whilst he, from the one side to the other turning,
Bare-headed, lower than his proud steed's neck,
Bespake them thus, 'I thank you, countrymen': 20
And thus still doing, thus he pass'd along.
Duch. Alack, poor Richard! where rode he the whilst?
York. As in a theatre, the eyes of men,
After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, 24
Are bent on him that enters next,
Thinking his prattle to be tedious;
Even so, or with much more contempt, men's eyes
Did scowl on Richard: no man cried, 'God save him'; 28
No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home;
But dust was thrown upon his sacred head,
Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off,
His face still combating with tears and smiles, 32
The badges of his grief and patience,
That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd
The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted,
And barbarism itself have pitied him. 36
But heaven hath a hand in these events,
To whose high will we our calm .
To Bolingbroke are we sworn subjects now.
Whose state and honour I for aye . 40
Duch. Here comesAumerle.