No More Learning

Little are we beholding to your love,
And little look'd for at your helping hands.

Re-enter YORK, with KING RICHARD, and OFFICERS
bearing the regalia

KING RICHARD. Alack, why am I sent for to a king,
Before I have shook off the regal thoughts
Wherewith I reign'd? I hardly yet have learn'd
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?
YORK. 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.
KING RICHARD. 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 fun of tears am I,
Drinking my griefs, whilst you mount up on high.
BOLINGBROKE. I thought you had been willing to resign.
KING RICHARD. 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.
BOLINGBROKE.