GARDENER    Pardon me, madam, little joy I have

To breathe this news, yet what I say is true—

King Richard, he is in the mighty hold

Of Bolingbroke. Their fortunes both are weighed:

In your lord’s scale is nothing but himself

And some few vanities that make him light,

But in the balance of great Bolingbroke,

Besides himself, are all the English peers,

And with that odds he weighs King Richard down.

Post you to London and you will find it so,

I speak no more than everyone doth know.           (3.4.81-91)

The Gardener maintains his dignity and is scrupulously polite as he says, in effect, don’t shoot the messenger, it gives me no pleasure to relay this, little joy I have to breathe this news. Yet what I say is true; although he doesn’t deliver the where, when, how circumstances the Queen has just demanded, his measured delivery and his striking conceit are convincing enough. King Richard (so, still the correct and respectful form of address) is in the mighty hold of Bolingbroke.Their fortunes both are weighed, as in a balance, a set of scales: all Richard has is himself, and some few vanities that make him light; what those vanities might be is left unclear—his remaining friends, perhaps, his general mercurial frivolity, his reputation for moral levity—but what matters is the lightness, that Richard is adrift, up in the air, in comparison with the weighty Bolingbroke. Bolingbroke, besides himself, has all the English peers. Everyone is on his side, all the heavyweights, and with that odds he weighs King Richard down. If you go at speed, post to London you’ll see. I speak no more than everyone doth know. It’s common knowledge. And the Queen seems to be the last to know.