Enter NORTHUMBERLAND and others.
NORTHUMBERLAND: My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed:
You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.
KING RICHARD II: Northumberland, thou ladder wherewithal 
The mounting Bolingbroke ascends my throne,
The time shall not be many hours of age
More than it is ere foul sin gathering head
Shalt break into corruption: thou shalt think,
Though he divide the realm and give thee half, 
It is too little, helping him to all;
And he shall think that thou, which know'st the way
To plant unrightful kings, wilt know again,
Being ne'er so little urged, another way
To pluck him headlong from the usurped throne. 
The love of wicked men converts to fear;
That fear to hate, and hate turns one or both
To worthy danger and deserved death.
NORTHUMBERLAND: My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith. 
KING RICHARD II: Doubly divorced! Bad men, you violate
A twofold marriage, 'twixt my crown and me,
And then betwixt me and my married wife.
Let me unkiss the oath 'twixt thee and me;
And yet not so, for with a kiss 'twas made. 
Part us, Northumberland; I towards the north,
Where shivering cold and sickness pines the clime;
My wife to France: from whence, set forth in pomp,
She came adorned hither like sweet May,
Sent back like Hallowmas or short'st of day. 
QUEEN: And must we be divided? must we part?
KING RICHARD II: Ay, hand from hand, my love, and heart from heart.
QUEEN: Banish us both and send the king with me.
NORTHUMBERLAND: That were some love but little policy.
QUEEN: Then whither he goes, thither let me go. 
KING RICHARD II: So two, together weeping, make one woe.
Weep thou for me in France, I for thee here;
Better far off than near, be ne'er the near.
Go, count thy way with sighs; I mine with groans.
QUEEN: So longest way shall have the longest moans. 
KING RICHARD II: Twice for one step I'll groan, the way being short,
And piece the way out with a heavy heart.
Come, come, in wooing sorrow let's be brief,
Since, wedding it, there is such length in grief:
One kiss shall stop our mouths, and dumbly part; 
Thus give I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
QUEEN: Give me mine own again; 'twere no good part
To take on me to keep and kill thy heart.
So, now I have mine own again, be gone,
That I might strive to kill it with a groan. 
KING RICHARD II: We make woe wanton with this fond delay:
Once more, adieu; the rest let sorrow say.