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Consuming means, soon press upon itself.
And yet, incaged in so smal] a verge,
O, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye,
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 shame; 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 pow to depose thyselr. This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, Which serves it in 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,
Is it not more than shame, to shame it so ?
K. Rich. a lupatic 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,
Now by my seat's right royal majesty,
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 bappy they were my ensuing death!
May be a precedent and witness good, Enter King Richard and Queen ; Aumerle, Bushy,
That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood :
Join with tbe present sickness that I have; Green, Bagot, Ross, and Willoughby.
And thy unkindness be like crooked age, York. The king is come : deal mildly with his youth;
To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower. For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the more.
Live in thy shame, but die pot shame with thee ! Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster?
These words bereafter thy tormentors be! K. Rich, hat comfort, man? How is't with aged | Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: Gaunt?
Love they to live, that love and honour have. Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition !
[Exit, borne out by his attendants. Old Gannt, indeed ; and gaunt in being old :
K. Rich. And let them die that age and sullens have; 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 Por 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 pleasure, 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 love, And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
so his : Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
As theirs, so mine ; and all be as it is. Whirse hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
Enter Northumberland. K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with their
North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your names?
majetty. Galint. No, misery makes sport to mock itself: Since thou dost seek to kill my vame in me,
K. Rich. What says he now?
Northe i mock my name, great king, to flatter thee,
Nay, nothing; all is said: K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those that
His tongue is now a stringless instrument; live?
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. Cment. No, no; men living flatter those that die.
York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st-thou flatter'st Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.
K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth be; Gaunt. Oh! Do; thou diest, though I the sicker be. His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be : K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. || So much for that.-Now for our Irish wars: Grunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see thee ill; | We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns; M in myself to see, and in the seeing ill.
Which live like venom, where no venom els , Thy death-bed is no lesser than the land,
But only they, hath privilege to live. Wherein thon liest in reputation sick:
And for these great affairs do ask some charge, And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
Towards our assistance we do seize to us Committ'st thy anointed body to the cure
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables, Of those physicians that first wounded thee?
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
York. How long shall I be patient? Ah, how long Whate compass is no bigger than thy bewud;
Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?
Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishment, North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er spezt
That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm!
Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
Hereford ? Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
If it be so, out with it boldly, man; I am the last of noble Edwarl's sons,
Quick is mine ear, to hear of good towards him. Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first; Ross. No goorl at all, that I can do for him; In war, was never lion rag'd more fierce,
Unless you call it good, to pity him, In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimony. Than was that young and princely gentleman :
North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such wrong His face thou bast, for even so look'd he,
The king is not himself, but basely led
That will the king severely prosecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. O, Richard ! York is too far gone with grief,
Ross. The commons hath he pill’d with grietotas Or else he never would compare between.
taxes, K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter?
And lost their hearts: the nobles hath he find Tork.
O, my liege, || For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd
Willo. And daily new exactions are devis d ; Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.
As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, But what, o'God's name, doth become of this? The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford ?
North. Wars have not wasted it, for wart'd he bathi Is not Gaunt dead ? and dota not Hereford live?
not, Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true? But basely yielded upon compromise Did not the one deserve to have an heir ?
That which his ancestors achier'd with blows: Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. His charters, and his customary rights;
Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken Let not to-inorrow then ensue today; Be not thyself, for how art thou a king,
North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth over him. But by fair sequence and succession ?
Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars, Now, afore Go (God forbid, I say true !)
His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, But by the robbing of the banish d duke. Call in the letters patents that he hath
North. His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! By his attornies-general to sue
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,
Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm : You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, You lose a thousand well disposed hearts,
And yet we suike not, but securely perish. And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffed ; Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
And unavoided is the danger now, K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize into our For suffering so the causes of our wreck. hands
North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.
death, York, I'll not be by, the while: My liege, farewell :
I spy life peering: but I dare not say What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; How near the tidings of our comfort is. But by bad courses may be understood,
Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dos: That their events can never fall out good. [Erit.
K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire straight; Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland: Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,
We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, To see this business : to-morrow next
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be hold. We will for Ireland ; and 'tis time, I trow:
North. Then thus :-I have, from Port le Blanc, a And we create, in absence of ourself,
bay Our uncle York, lord governor of England,
In Britanny, receivd intelligence,
That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham,
and Bagot. Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Ramston, Nrth. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is dead. Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and Franci? Ross. And living too ; for now his son is dube.
Quoint, Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.
All these well furnishd by the duke of Bretagte, North. Richly in both, if justice had her right.
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of was, Ross. My heart is great ; but it must break with si-' Are making hither with all due expedience, lence,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue.
Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland. And with uplifted arms is safe airiy'd
The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, Away, with me, in post to Ravenspurg :
With all their powerful friends, are fled to bim. But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumber. Stay, and be secret, and myself will go.
land, Ross. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that And all the rest of the revolting faction fear.
Traitors ? Millo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. Green. We have: whereon the earl of Worcester
[Exeunt. Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
And all the household servants fled with him SCENE 11.-The same. A Room in the Palace. En
To Bolingbroke. ter Queen, Bushy and Bagot.
Queen. So, Green, thon art the midwife to my woe, Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad :
And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal beir:
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, sorrow tq sorrow joiu'd.
Who shall hinder me? Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, I will despair, and be at enmity Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
With cozening hope; he is a flatterer,
A parasite, a keeper-back of death,
Green. Here comes the duke of York.
Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck; Which show like grief itself, but are not so:
o, full of careful business are his looks! For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Uncle, Divides one thing entire to many objects;
For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. Like perspectives, whieh, rightly gaz'd upon,
York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts : Show nothing but confusion ; ey'd awry,
Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Distinguish form : so your sweet majesty,
Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief. Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Your husband he is gone to save far off, Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail ;
Whilst others come to make kim lose at home Which, lookid on as it is, is nought but shadows
Here am I left to under-prop his land; Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: More than your lord's departure weep not; more's
Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made ;
Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him. Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
Enter a Servant. Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came Queen. It may be so ; but yet my inward soul
• York. He was ?-Why, so !-go all which way it Persuades me, it is otherwise : Howe'er it be,
will! 1 annot bat be sad; so heavy sad,
The nobles they are fled, the commons cold, As-though, in thinking, on no thought I think,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.akes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
Sirrah, Brushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady. || Get thice to Plashy, to my sister Gloster; green. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv'd
Bid her send me presently a thousand pound :From some fore-father grief; mine is not so ; Hold, take my ring. Fuz nothing hath begot my something grief; Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship: Or something hath the nothing that I grieve : To-day, as I came by, I called there;Tis in reversion that I do possess ;
But I shall grieve you to report the rest. But what it is, that is not yet known; what
York. What is it, knave? I cannot name; 'uis nameless woe, I wot.
Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess died. Enter Green.
York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes Greene God save your majesty !-and well met, Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! gentlemen :
I know not what to do :-I would to God, I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. (So my untruth bad not provok'd him to it) Queen. Why hop'st thou so ? 'tis better hope, he is ; The king had cut off my head with my brother's.For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope ; What are there posts despatch'd for Ireland ?Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not shipp'd ?
How shall we do for money for these wars Green. That he, our hope, might have recird his Come, sister, -cousin, I would say: pray, pardon me power,
Go, fellow, (To the Servant.] get thee home, provide And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
some carts, Who strongly hath set footing in this land :
And bring away the armour that is there.The banish'd Bolingtroke repeals himself,
Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know
Enter Harry Percy. How, or which way, to order these affairs,
North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever. Never believe me. Both are my kinsinen ;
Harry, how fares your uncle ? The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn d his And duty bids defend; the other again,
health of you. Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
North Why, is he not with the queen ? Wbom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court, Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, I'll Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd Dispose of you :-Go, muster up your men,
The household of the king. And meet me presently at Berkley-castle.
What was his reason? I should to Plashy too ;
He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake together. But time will not permit :-All is uneven,
Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitor, And every thing is left at six and seven.
But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspury,
What power the duke of York had levia there;
Then with directions to repair to Ravenspurg. Is all impossible.
North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, boy? Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love,
Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot, Is near the hate of those love not the king.
Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge, Bagot. And that's the wavering commons: for their
I never in my life did look on him. love
North. Then learn to know him now; this the Lies in their purses ; and whoso empties them,
duke. By so much fills their hearts with deadly bate.
Perry. My gracious lord, I tender you my service, Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally con Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young ; demnd.
Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm Bigot. If judgement lie in them, then so do we,
To more approved service and desert. Because we ever have been near the king.
Bol. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure, Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol cas. I count myself in nothing else so happy, tle;
As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; The earl of Wiltshire is already there.
And, as iny fortune ripens with thy love, Bushy. Thither will I with you: for little office It shall be still thy true love's recompense: The hateful commons will perform for us;
My heart this covenant makes, my land thus seals it. Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.
North. How far is it to Berkley? And what suir Will you go along with us?
Keeps goud old York there, with his men of war? Bagot. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty.
Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, Farewell : if heart's presages he not vain,
Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard : We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Seymour; Bushy. That's as York thrives to buat back Bolingo | None else of nanue, and noble estimate. broke.
Enter Ross and Willoughby. Green. Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes
North. Here come the lords of Ross and Willoughby, Is-numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry; Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. Where one on his side fights, thousands will fiy.
Bol. Welcome, my lords: I wot, your love pursues Bushy. Farewell at once; for once, for all, and ever.
A banish'd traitor; all my treasury Green. Well, we may meet again.
yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrichd, Bugot.
I fear me, never. [Exeunt. || shall be your love and labour's recompense. SCEYE III.-The Wilds in Glostershire. Enter Bol.
Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord. "ingbroke and Northumberland, with Forces. Willo. And far surnipunts our labour to attain it.
Bol. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the poor; Bol. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley now
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
Enter Berkley. Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome :
North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you. Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
Bol. My lori, my answer is-to Lancaster; But, I bethink me, what a weary way
And I am come to seek that name in England: From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found
And I must find that title in your tongue, In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company;
Before I make reply to aught you say. Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd
Berk. Mistake me not, my lord : 'tis not my meanThe tediousness and process of my travel:
ing, But theirs is sweeteu'd with the hope to have
To raze one title of your honour outThe present benefit which I possess :
To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will.) And hope to joy, is little less in joy,
From the most glorious regent of this land, Than hope enjoy'd : by this the weary lords
The duke of York; to know, what pricks you on Shall make their way seem short; as mine hath done
To take advantage of the absent time, By sight of what i have, your roble company.
And friglit our native peace with self-born arms. Bol. Of much less value is any compauy,
Enter York. attended. Than your good words. But who comes here? Bol, I shall not need transport my words by you;
Here comes his graco in person. My noble uncle! And let him ne'er see joy, that breaks that oath.
[Kneels. York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms; York. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, I cannot mend it, I must needs confess, Whose duty is deceivable and false.
Because my power is weak, and all ill left:
But, if I could, by him that gave me life,
I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Unto the sovereign mercy of the king ;
I do remain as neuter. So, sare you well ;-
Unless you please to enter in the castle,
But we must win your grace, to go with us
To Bristol castle; which, they say, is held And ostentation of despised aris?
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices, Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence ? The caterpillars of the commonwealth, Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away. And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
York. It may be, I will go with you :-but yet I'll Were I but now the lord of such hot youth,
[Exeunt. Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee,
SCENE IV.-A Camp in Wales. Enter Salisbury, And minister correction to thy fault!
and a Captain. Bol. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault; On what condition stands it, and wherein?
Capt. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten days, Tork. Even in condition of the worst degree,
And hardly kept our countrymen together, In gross rebellion, and detested treason :
And yet we hear no tidings from the king; Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come,
Therefore we will disperse ourselves : farewell. Before the expiration of thy time,
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman ; In braving arms against thy sovereign.
The king reposeth all his confidence Bøl. As I was banishd, I was banished Hereford;
In thee. But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
Capt. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
stay. Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, You are my father, for, methinks, in you
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven ; I see old Gaunt alive; 0, then, my father!
The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, Will you permit that I shall stand condemo'd And lean look'd prophets whisper fearful change; A wand'ring vagabond ; my rights and royalties
Rich men look sad, and ruffans dance and leap,Pluck'd from my arins perforce, and given away
The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
The other, to enjoy by rage and war: If that my cousin king be king of England,
These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled, You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman ;
As well assurd, Richard their king is dead. [Exit. you first died, and he been thus trod down,
Sal. Ah, Richard ! with the eyes of heavy mind, He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father, I see thy glory, like a shooting star, To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay. Fall to the base earth from the firmament ! I an denied to sue my livery here,
Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, And yet my letters-patent give me leave :
Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest: My father's goods are all distrain'd, and sold ;
Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes; And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd.
And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. [Exit. What would you have me do? I am a subject, And challenge law: Attornies are denied me; And therefore personally I lay my claim
ACT III. To my inheritance of free descent,
Enter North. The noble duke hath been too inuch abus d.
SCENE 1.-Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol. Ress. It stands your grace upon, to do him right.
Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Percy, WilWillo. Base men by his endowments are made great.
loughby, Ross : Officers behind with Bushy and Tork. My lords of England, let me tell you this,
Green, prisoners. I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs,
Bol. Bring forth these men.And labour'd all I could to do bim right :
Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
(Since presently your souls must part your boulies.) Be his own carver, and eut out his way,
With too much urging your pernicious lives, To find out right with wrong,-it may not be ;
For 'twere rw charity : yet, to wash your blood And you, that do abet him in this kind,
From off my hands, here, in the view of men, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
I will unfold some causes of your death. North. The roble duke hath sworn, his coming is You have misled a prince, a royal king, But for his own : and, for the right of that,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineament, We all have strongly sword to give him aid; By you unhappied and disfigurd clean.