sour.

And now my tongue's use is to me no more, Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, Than an unstringed viol. or a harp;

And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow: Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, Or, being open, put into his hands

But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Thy word is current with him for my death : Within my mouth you have engoald my inague, But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. Doubly portcullis’d, with my teeth, and lips;

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance

Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave; Is made my gaoler to attend on me.

Why at our justice seemost thou then to lower ? I am too old to fawn upon a vurse,

Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion T'oo far in years to be a pupil now; What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather, Which robs my tongue from breathing native You would have bid me argue like a father :breath?

O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate; To smooth his fault I should have been more mild :
After our sentence plaining comes too late.

A partial slander sought I to avoid,
Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's light, and in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.

Alas, I look'd, when some of you should say,
(Retiring.

I was too strict, to make mine own away; K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with But you gave leave to mine unwilling tirgue, thee.

Against my will, to do myself this wrong. [s0; Lay on our royal sword your basish'd hands;

K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :-and, uncle, bid biru Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,

Six years we banish him, and he shall go. (Our part therein we banish with yourselves,,)

(Flourish. Exeunt K. RICHARD and Train. To keep the oath that we administer :

Aum. Cousin, farewell : what presence must not You never shall (so help you truth and heaven !)

know, Embrace each other's love in banishment;

From where you do remain, let paper show. Nor never look upon each other's face;

Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile

As far as land will let me, by your side. This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate ;

Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy Nor never by advised purpose meet,

words, To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,

That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, Boling. I swear.

When the tongue's office should be prodigal Nor. And I, to keep all this.

To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;

Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. By this time, had the king permitted us,

Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time One of our souls had wander'd in the air,

Gaunt. What is six winters ? they are quickly Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,

gone

(ten. As now our flesh is banish'd from this land.

Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm ;

Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleaSince thou hast far to go, bear not along The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

Boling. My heart will sigh, when I miscall it so, Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,

Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. My name be blotted from the book of life,

Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence!

Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know;

The precious jewel of thy home-return. And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.

Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride 1 make, Farewell, my liege :-Now no way can I stray;

Will but remember me, what a deal of world Save back to England, all the world's my way.

I wander from the jewels that I love. [Exit

. Must I not serve a long apprenticehood K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes

To foreign passages; and in the end, I see thy grieved heart; thy sad aspect

Having my freedom, boast of nothing else Hath from the number of his banish'd years

But that I was a journeyman to grief? Pluck'd four away ;-Six frozen winters spent,

Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits, Return (to BOLING.) with welcome home from ba- Are to a wise man ports and happy havens: nishment.

Teach thy necessity to reason thus ; Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! There is no virtue like necessity. Pour lagging winters, and four wanton springs,

Think not, the king did banish thee; End in a word; Such is the breath of kings.

But thou the king : Who doth the heavier sit, Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me,

Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. He shortens four years of my son's exile :

Go, say—I sent thee forth to purchase honour, But little vantage shall I reap thereby;

And not-the king exiled thee: or suppose, For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend,

Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,
Can change their moons, and bring their times about, Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it

And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light,
Shall be extinct with age, and endless night;

To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'st My inch of taper will be burnt and done,

Suppose the singing birds, musicians; And blindfold death not let me see my son.

The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence strewly Gaunt. But not a minute king, that thou canst For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bátu K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. The flowers, fair ladies; and thy

steps, no mule

Than a delightful measure, or a dance : give :

sure.

(lord ;

my last

The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. And liberal largess, -are grown somewhat light,

Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand, We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm ; By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?

The revenue whereof shall furnish us Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

For our affairs in hand: If that come short, By bare imagination of a feast?

Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; Or wallow naked in December snow,

Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, By thinking on fantastic summer's heat ?

They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold, O, no! the apprehension of the good,

And send them after to supply our wants; Gives but the greater feeling to the worse :

For we will make for Ireland presently. Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,

Enter Bushy. Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.

Bushy, what news ? Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on Busky. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my thy way;

Suddenly taken; and hath sent post-haste, Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.

To entreat your majesty to visit him. Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet

K. Rich. Where lies he ? soil, adieu ;

Bushy. At Ely-house.

(mind, My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!

K. Rich Now put it, heaven, in his physician's Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,- To help him to his grave immediately! Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.

The lining of his coffers shall make coats

(Ereunt. To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. SCENE IV.- The same. A Room in the King's Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him : Castle

Pray God, we may make haste, and come too late ! Enter King RICHARD, BAGOT, and GREEN ;

(Ereunt. AUMERLE following. K. Rich. We did observe.-Cousin Aumerle,

ACT II.
How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,

SCENE I.-London. A Room in Ely House.
But to the next highway, and there I left him.
K. Rich. And say, what store of parting tears Gaunt on a couch; the Duke of York, and others
were shed

(wind,

standing by him. Aum. 'Faith, not by me, except the north-east Gaunt. Will the king come ? that I may

breathe Which then blew bitterly against our faces, Awak'd the sleeping rheum; and so, by chance, In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your K‘Rich. What said our cousin, when you parted

breath; with him?

For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. Aum. Farewell:

Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying men And, for my heart disdained that my tongue

Enforce attention, like deep harmony; (vain; Should so profane the word, that taught me craft Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in To counterfeit oppression of such grief,

For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.

pain. Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen's He, that no more must say, is listen’d more (glose; hours,

Than they whom youth and ease have taught to And added years to his short banishment,

More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before ; He should have had a volume of farewells ;

The setting sun, and music at the close, But, since it would not, he had none of me.

As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last ; K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin ; but 'tis doubt, Writ in remembrance, more than things long past : When time shall call him home from banishment, Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Ourself, and Bush, Bagot here, and Green,

York. No; it is stopp*d with other flattering Obsery'd his courtship to the common people :

sounds, How he did seem to dive into their hearts,

As, praises of his state: then, there are found
With humble and familiar courtesy ;

Lascivious metres ; to whose venom sound
What reverence he did throw away on slaves ; The open ear of youth doth always listen :
Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of smiles, Report of fashions in proud Italy;
And patient underbearing of his fortune,

Whose manners still our tardy apish nation
As 'twere, to banish their affects with him.

Limps after in base imitation. Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;

Where doth the worid thrust forth a vanity, A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well, (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,) And had the tribute of his supple knee,

That is not quickly buzz’d into his ears ? With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends ;- Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, As were our England in reversion his,

Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. And he our subjects' next degree in hope. Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; Green. Well's he's gone ; and with him go these 'Tis breath thou jackest, and that breath wilt thou thoughts.

lose. Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland !- Gaunr. Methinks, I am a prophet new inspir’d; Expedient manage must be made, my liege ; And thus, expiring, do foretell of him: Ere further leisure yield-them further means, His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last; For their advantage, and your highness' loss. For violent fires soon burn out themselves : [sbort;

K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war. Small showers last long, but surlden storms are and, for our cuffers with too great a court. He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes ;

With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder : A thousand fallerers sit within thy crown,
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

Whose

compass is no bigger than thy head'; Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, The waste is no whit lesser than thy head;
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

0, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, This fortress, built by nature for herself,

From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shama Against infection, and the hand of war :

Deposing thee before thou wert possessid, This happy breed of men, this little world; Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, Which serves in it the office of a wall,

It were a shame, to let this land by lease : Or as a moat defensive to a house,

But, for thy world, enjoying but this land,
Against the envy of less happier lands;

Is it not more than shame, to shame it so ?
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, Landlord of England art thou now, not king:
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Thy state of law is bondslave to the law;
Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, And thou-
Kenowned for their deeds as far from home,

K. Rich. -a lunatic lean-witted fool, (For Christian service, and true chivalry,)

Presuming on an ague's privilege, As is the sepulchre, in stubborn Jewry,

Dar'st with thy frozen admonition Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son: Make pale our cheek; chasing the royal blood, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, With fury, from his native residence. Dear for her ation through the world,

Now by my seat's right royal majesty, Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it,)

Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, Like to a tenement, or pelting farm :

This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders. Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, For that I was his father Edward's son; With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds; That blood already, like the pelican, That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd : Hath made a shameful conquest of itself:

My brother Gloster, plain well meaning soul, O, would the scandal vanish with my life,

(Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls !) How happy then were my ensuing death!

May be a precedent and witness good, Enter King RICHARD and Queen; AUMERLE, Join with the present sickness that I have;

That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood : Bushy, Green, Bagot, Ross, and WillOUGHBY. And thy unkindness be like crooked age, York. The king is come: deal midly with his. To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower. youth;

Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee ! -
For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the more. These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster ?

Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:
K Rich. What comfort, man ? How is’t with aged Love they to live, that love and honour have.
Gaunt?

(Exit, borne out by his Attendants.
Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition ! K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens
Old Gaunt, indeed ; and gaunt in being old:
Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;

For both hast thou, and both become the grave. And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt?

York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his words For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;

To wayward sickliness and age in him : Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt:

He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear The pleasures, that some fathers feed upon,

As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here. Is my strict fast, I mean-my children's looks;

K. Rich. Right; you say true: as Hereford's And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt !

love, so his;
Gaunt am I from the grave, gaunt as a grave, As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with their

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.
names?

North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself:

your majesty. Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,

K. Rich. What says he now ? I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.

North.

Nay, nothing; all is said: K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those His tongue is now a stringless instrument; that live ?

(die. Words, life, and all, old Lancaster bath spent. Gaunt. No, no; men living, flatter those that York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st-thou flatter. Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. est me.

(be. K.Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the sicker His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be : K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee So much for that.-Now for our Irish wars : ill.

Lill; We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns, Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see thee Which live like venom, where no venom else, Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.

But only they, hath privilege to live. Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land,

And for these great affairs do ask some charge, Wherein the: liest in reputation sick:

Towards our assistance, we do seize to us And thou, too careless patient as thou art,

The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables, Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure

Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. of thora phvsicians that first wounded thee:

York. How long shall I be patient ? Ah, bow long

have;

Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong ?

North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishment,

speak more, Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke

Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,

If it be so, out with it boldly, man; [Hereford ? Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, Quick is mine ear, to hear of good towards him. Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.

Ross. No good at all, that I can do for him ; I am the last of noble Edward's sons,

Unless you call it good, to pity him, Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first ; Bereft and gelded of his patrimony: In war, was never lion rag'd more fierce,

North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,

wrongs are borne, Than was that young and princely gentleman : In him a roya, prince, and many more His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,

Of noble blood in this declining land. Accomplish'd with the nuinber of thy hours : The king is not himself, but basely led But, when he frown'd, it was against the French, By flatterers; and what they will inform, And not against his friends : his noble hand Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all, Did win what he did spend, and spent not that That will the king severely prosecute Which his triumphant father's hand had won : 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood,

Ross. The commons hath he pillid with grierous But bloody with the enemies of his kin.

taxes, 0, Richard ! York is too far gone with grief, And lost their hearts: the nobles bath he fin'd Or else he never would compare between.

For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter?

Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd ; York

O, my liege, As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what; Pardon me, if you please; if not. I, pleas’d But what, o'God's name, doth become of this ? Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.

North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, But basely yielded upon compromise (hath not, The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford ? That which his ancestors achieved with blows: Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Hereford live ? More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Was not Gaunt just ? and is not Harry true ?

Ross. The ear) of Wiltshire hath the realm in Did not the one deserve to have an heir ?

farm.

-{man. Is not his heir a well-deserving son ?

Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth over His charters, and his customary rights;

him. Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;

Ross. He ath not money for these Irish wars, Be not thyself, for how art thou a kirg,

His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, But by fair sequence and succession ?

But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. Now, afore God (God forbid, I say truc !)

North. His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, But lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, Call in the letters patent that he hath

Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm: By his attornies-general to sue

We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,

And yet we strike not, but securely perish. You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,

Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffer: You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts,

And unavoided is the danger now,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts For suffering so the causes of our wreck. (death,
Which honour and allegiance cannot think. (hands North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of

K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize into our I spy life peering; but I dare not
His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. How near the tidings of our comfort is. [dost ours.
York. I'll not be by, the while : My liege, fare- Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou
well:

Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland :
What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
But by bad courses may be understood,

Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold That their events can never fall out good. [Erit North. Then thus:- I have from Port le Blanc, K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire In Britanny, receiv'd intelligence,

(a bay Bid him repair to us to Ely-house, (straight; That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham, To see this business: To-morrow next

[The son of Richard Earl of Arundel,) We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow;

That late broke from the duke of Exeter, And we create, in absence of ourself,

His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, Our uncle York lord governor of England, Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Ramston, For he is just, and always lov'd us well.-- Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and Fran Come on, our queen : to-morrow we must part ;

cis Quoint, Be merry, for our time of stay is short. (Flourish. All these, well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne, (Ereunt KING, QUEEN, Bushy, AUMERLE, With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, GREEN, and Bagot.

Are making hither with all due expedience, North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is And shortly mean to touch our northern shore : dead.

Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay Ross. And living too; for now his son is duke. The first departing of the king for Ireland. Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.

If then we shall.shake off our slavish yoke, North. Richly in both, if justice had her right. Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, Ross. My heart is great; but it must break with Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, silence,

Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt, Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue.

And make high majesty look like itself,

say

Away, with me in post to Ravenspurg:

And all the rest of the revolting faction But if you faint, as fearing to do so,

Traitors ?
Stay and be secret, and myself will go. (that fear. Green. We have: whereon the earl of Worceste:

Ross. To horse, to borse ! urge doubts to them Hath broke his staff, resign’d his stewardship,
Willo Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. And all the household servants fled with him

(Ereunt. To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the Palace.

And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal beir :
Enter QUEEN, Bushy, and Bagot. Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy;
Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad : And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
You promis'd, when you parted with the king, Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
To lay aside life-harming heaviness,

Bushy. Despair not, madam.
And entertain a cheerful disposition.

(self, Queen.

Who shall hinder me? Queen. To please the king, I did; to please my- I will despair, and be at enmity I cannot do it; yet I know no cause

With cozening hope; he is a flatterer, Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, A parasite, a keeper-back of death, Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest

Who gently would dissolve the bands of life, As my sweet Richard : Yet, again, methinks,

Which false hope lingers in extremity. Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,

Enter YORK. Is coming towards me; and my inward soul

Green. Here comes the duke of York. With nothing trembles : at something it grieves,

Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck; More than with parting from my lord the king.

O, full of careful business are his looks ! Bushy. Each substance of a grief hath twenty Uncle,

shadows, Which show like grief itself, but are not so:

For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words.

York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts. For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects;

Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,

Where nothing lives, but crosses, care, and grief.

Your husband he is gone to save far off, Show nothing but confusion; ey'd awry,

Whilst others come to make him lose at home : Distinguish form; so your sweet majesty,

Here am I left to underprop this land; Looking awry upon your lord's departure,

Who, weak with age, cannot support myself :Finds shapes of griefs, more than himself, to wail ; Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made; Which, look'd on it as it is, is nought but shadows Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,

Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

Enter a Servant. More than your lord's departure weep not; more's Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, (not seen : Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came. Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. York. He was ? —Why so !-go all which way it Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul

will!
Persuades me, it is otherwise. Howe'er it be, The nobles they are fled, the commons cold,
I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad,

And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
As—though, in thinking, on no thought I think, - Sirrah,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster;

Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. Bid her send me presently a thousand pound;

Queen. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv's Hold, take my ring; From some fore-father grief; mine is not 80;

Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship : For nothing hath begot my something grief;

To-day, as I came by, I called there ;Or something hath the nothing that I grieve;

But I shall grieve you to report the rest. Tis in reversion that I do possess;

York. What is it, knave? But what it is, that is not yet known; what

Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess died. I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.

York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes

Comes rushing on this woeful land at once !
Enter GREEN.

I know not what to do :- I would to God, Green. God save your majesty !-and well met, (So my untruth had not provok'd him to it) gentlemen,

The king had cut off my head with my bro, her's – I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. What, are there posts despatch'd for Ireland ?

Queen. Why hop'st thou so i 'tis better hope he is : How shall we do for money for these wars ? For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope ; Come, sister, --cousin, I would say: pray, pardon Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not shipp'd ?

(some carts, Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his Go, fellow, (to the Servant,) get thee home, provide And driven into despair an enemy's hope, (power, And bring away the armour that is there.Who strongly hath set footing in this land:

(Erit Servante The banish'd Bolingbroke repeale himself,

Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? If I know And with uplifted arms is safe arriv'd

How, or which way, to order these affairs,
At Ravenspurg.

Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
Queen. Now God in heaven forbid ! Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;
Green. O, madam, 'tis too true; and that is The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
worse,

(Percy, And duty bids defend; the other again, The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd; The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, l’u Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northum- Dispose of you :-Go, muster up your men, berland,

And meet me presentlv at Berkley-castle

me.