Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd; As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what : But what, in heaven's name, doth become of this? North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, But basely yielded upon compromise That which his ancestors achiev'd with blows: More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man. North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth over him. Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars, His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. North. His noble kinsman: most degenerate king! But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing. Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm: We see the wind sit sore upon our sails, And yet we strike not, but securely perish. 1 Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffer; And unavoided is the danger now, For suffering so the causes of our wreck. I North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death, spy life peering; but I dare not say How near the tidings of our comfort is. Willo. Nay let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours. Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland: We three are but thyself; and speaking so, Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. North. Then thus:- I have from Port le Blanc, a bay Perish by confidence in our security. In Britanny, receiv'd intelligence, That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham, That late broke from the duke of Exeter, Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and Francis All these well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne, Ross. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be [Exeunt. there. SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Palace. Enter Queen, BUSHY, and BAGOT. Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad: You promis'd, when you parted with the king, To lay aside life-harming heaviness, And entertain a cheerful disposition. Stout. 3 Expedition. 4 Supply with new feathers Gilding. Queen. To please the king, I did; to please myself, Which show like grief itself, but are not so: not seen: Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. -- As, though in thinking, on no thought I think,Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit7, my gracious lady. Queen. "Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv'd From some fore-father grief; mine is not so; For nothing hath begot my something grief; Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: 'Tis in reversion that I do possess ; 6 Pictures. 7 Fanciful conception. But what it is, that is not yet known; what Enter GREEN. Green. Heaven save your majesty!-and well met, gentlemen: : I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. And driven into despair an enemy's hope, At Ravenspurg. Queen. Now God in heaven forbid ! Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse, The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry Percy, The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland, And all the rest of the revolting faction Traitors? Green. We have: whereon the earl of Worcester Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, And all the household servants fled with him To Bolingbroke. Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy; > Know. And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, Who shall hinder me? I will despair, and be at enmity With cozening hope; he is a flatterer. Who gently would dissolve the bands of life. Enter YORK. Green. Here comes the duke of York. Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck; O, full of careful business are his looks! Uncle, For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief. Your husband he is gone to save far off, Whilst others come to make him lose at home: Who, weak with age, cannot support myself; Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came. The nobles they are fled, the commons cold, Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster : Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship: |