Duch. Alas, poor Richard! where rides he the while? York. As in a theatre,' the eyes of men, After a well-grac'd actor leaves the stage, Are idly 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; No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home: That had not God, for some strong purpose, steel'd But heaven hath a hand in these events; Enter AUMerle. Duch. Here comes my son Aumerle. Aumerle that was;2 York. As in a theatre, &c.] "The painting of this description (says Dryden, in his preface to Troilus and Cressida,) is so lively, and the words so moving, that I have scarce read any thing comparable to it, in any other language. Aumerle that was;] The Dukes of Aumerle, Surrey, and Exeter, were, by an act of Henry's first parliament, deprived of their dukedoms, but were allowed to retain their earldoms of Rutland, Kent, and Huntingdon. Duch. Welcome, my son: Who are the violets now, That strew the green lap of the new-come spring? Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not: God knows, I had as lief be none, as one. York. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropp'd before you come to prime. What news from Oxford? hold those justs and tri umphs? Aum. For aught I know, my lord, they do. Aum. If God prevent it not; I purpose so. York. What seal is that, that hangs without thy bosom? Yea, look'st thou pale? let me see the writing. York. No matter then who sees it: I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech your grace to pardon me; It is a matter of small consequence, Which for some reasons I would not have seen. York. Which for some reasons, sir, I mean to see. I fear, I fear, Duch. What should you fear? 'Tis nothing but some bond that he is enter'd into For gay apparel, 'gainst the triumph day. York. Bound to himself? what doth he with a bond That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a fool. Boy, let me see the writing. Aum. I do beseech you, pardon me; I may not show it. York. I will be satisfied; let me see it, I say. [Snatches it, and reads. Treason! foul treason!-villain! traitor! slave! Duch. What is the matter, my lord? York. Ho! who is within there? [Enter a Ser- God for his mercy! what treachery is here! York. Give me my boots, I say; saddle my horse: Now by mine honour, by my life, my troth, Duch. [Exit Servant. What's the matter? York. Peace, foolish woman. Duch. I will not peace:- What is the matter, son? Aum. Good mother, be content; it is no more Than my poor life must answer. Duch. Thy life answer? Re-enter Servant, with Boots. York. Bring me my boots, I will unto the king. amaz'd: Hence, villain: never more come in my sight. York. Give me my boots, I say. [To the Servant. Duch. Why, York, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have ta'en the sacrament, Duch. He shall be none; We'll keep him here: Then what is that to him? Fond woman! were he twenty times my son I would appeach him. Hadst thou groan'd for him, As I have done, thou'dst be more pitiful. But now I know thy mind; thou dost suspect, And that he is a bastard, not thy son: Sweet York, sweet husband, be not of that mind: He is as like thee as a man may be, Not like to me, or any of my kin, And yet I love him. York. Make way, unruly woman. [Exit. Duch. After, Aumerle; mount thee upon his horse; Spur, post; and get before him to the king, [Exeunt. SCENE III. Windsor. A Room in the Castle. Enter BOLINGBROKE, as King; PERCY, and other Lords. Boling. Can no man tell of my unthrifty son? 'Tis full three months, since I did see him last:If any plague hang over us, 'tis he. I would to God, my lords, he might be found: For there, they say, he daily doth frequent, Even such, they say, as stand in narrow lanes, Percy. My lord, some two days since I saw the prince; And told him of these triumphs held at Oxford. Percy. His answer was, he would unto the stews; And from the common'st creature pluck a glove, Boling. As dissolute, as desperate: yet, through both I see some sparkles of a better hope, Which elder days may happily bring forth. Enter AUMERLE, hastily. Aum. Where is the king? What means Our cousin, that he stares and looks so wildly? majesty, To have some conference with your grace alone. Boling. Withdraw yourselves, and leave us here [Exeunt PERCY and Lords. alone. What is the matter with our cousin now? Aum. For ever may my knees grow to the earth, [Kneels. My tongue cleave to my roof within my mouth, |