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And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
Enter Northumberland. Gaunt am I tor the grave, gaunt as a grave, North. My liege, old Gaun. commends him Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones
to your majesty. K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with K. Rich. What says he now? their names?
North. Nay, nothing; all is said : Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself: His tongue is now a stringless instrument ; Since thou Jost seek to kill my name in me, Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
York. Be York the next that must be bank K. Rich. Should dying men tlatter with those that live?
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal wo. Gaunt. No, no; men living flatter those that K. Rich. The ripeat fruit first falls, and so die.
doth he; K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say’st-thou His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be : flatter'st me.
So much for that. Now for our Irish wars: Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns; sicker be.
Which live like venom, where no venom else, K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see But only they, hath privilege to live. thee ill.
And for these great atlairs do ask some charge, Gaunt. Now, he that made me, knows I see Towards ou assistance, we do seize to us thee ill;
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables, Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
Whereof our uncle Ganut did stand possess' Thy deathbed is no lesser than thy land,
York. How long shall I be patient? Ah, low Wherein thou liest in reputation sick:
long And thou, too careless patient as thou art, Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Committ'st thy anointed body to the cure Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishonent, of those physicians that first wounded thee; Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's pivate A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
wrongs, Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, The waste is no wbit lesser than thy land ; Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, 0, had thy grandsire, with a propriet's eye, Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's lawe.Seen how his sou's son should destroy his sons, I am the last of noble Edward's sons, From forth thy reach he would have laid thy of whom thy father', prince of Wales, was first; shame;
In war, was never lion rag'd more fierce, Deposing thee before thou went possessid,
In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild, Which art possess'd now to depose thy self. Than was that young and princely gentlanan : Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, His face thou hast, for even so look'd be, It were a shame to let this land by lease :
Accomplisb'd with the number of thy hours; But, for thy world, enjoying but this land, But, when he frown'd, it was against the Prench,
And not against his friends : his noble hand Landlord of England art thou now, not king: Did win what he did spend, and spent not that Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; Which his triumphant father's hand had won : And thou
His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood, K. Rich. -a lunatick lean-witted fool, But bloody with the enemies of his kin. Presuming on an ague's privilege,
o, Richard ; York is too far gone with grief, Dar'st with thy frozen admonition
Or else he never would compere between Make pale our check; chasing the royal blood, K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter? With fury, from his native residence.
O, my liege, Now by my seat's right royal majesty,
Parilon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, Should run thy head from thy unreverent The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford ?
Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, shoulders.
Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Herefond live? Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's Was not Gaunt just ? and is not Harry true ? son,
Did not the one deserve to have an heir ? For that I was his father Edward's son ; Is not his heir a well deserving son ? That blood alre..dy, like the pelican,
Take Hereford's rights away, and take frosa time Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd: His charters, and his customary rights ; My brother Gloster, plain well meaning soul, Let not to-norrow then ensue to-day: (Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy Be not thy self, for how art thou a king, souls !)
But by fair sequence and succession ? May be a precedent, and witness good,
Now, afore God, (God forbid, I say true 1) That thou respect'st 'not spilling Edward's blood : If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, Join with the present sickness that I have, Call in the letters patent that he hath And thy unkindness be like crooked age, By his attorneys-general to sue To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.
His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, Live in thy shame, but die not shame with You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, thee!
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, These words hereafter thy tormentors be 1
And prick my tender patience to those thoughta Convey me to my bed, then to my grave : Which honour and allegiance cannot think. Love they to live, that love and honour have. K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize into [Erit, borne out by his Attendants.
our hands K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sul. His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. lens have ;
York. I'll not bé by the while : My liege, For both hast thou, and both become the grave. farewell : York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his words What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; To wayward sickliness and age in him: But by bad courses may he understood, He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear That their events can never fall out good. As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here.
[Erit. K. Rich Right; you say true : as Hereford's K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire love, so his:
straight; As theirs, so mine: and all be as it is.
Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,
To see this business : To-morrow next
(The son of Richard earl of Arundel,
His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury,
All these well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne, (Flourish. Exeunt King, Queen, Bushy, With eight tall ships, three thousand men of Aumerle, Greene, and Bagot.
war, North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is Are making hither with all due expedience, dead.
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore :
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Away, with me, in post to Ravenspurg:
Ross. To horse, lo horse ! urge doubts to them
that fear. Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be Ross. No good at all, that I can do for him;
(E.ceunt. Unless you call it good to pity him, Bereft and gelded of his patrimony
SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Palace North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such Enter Queen, Bushy, and Bagot. wrongs are borne,
Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad:
To lay aside life-harming heaviness,
And entertain a cheerful disposition.
Queen. To please the king, I did : to please
myself, That will the king severely prosecute
I cannot do it; yet I know no cause 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. Why I should welcome such a guest as grief, Ross. The commons hath he pill'd with griev. Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest ous taxes,
As my sweet Richard : Yet, again, methinks, And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, fiu'd
Is coming towards me; and my inward soul For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. With nothing trembles : at some thing, i Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd;
grieves, As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: More than with parting from my lord the king. But what, of God's name, doth become of this? Bushy. Each substance of a grief hath twenty North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd shadows, he hath not,
Which show like grief itself, bnt are not so;
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Like perspectives, which, rightly, gaz'd npon, farm.
Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a Looking awry upon your lord's departure, broken man.
Finds shapes of griefs, more than himself, to North Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth wail ; over him.
Which, look'd on as it is, is nonght but shadows
more's not seen :
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary:
Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul
Persuades me, it is otherwise : Howe'er it be,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
lady. North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes Queen. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv.d of death,
From some fore-father grief: mine is not so; spy life peering; but I dare not say
For nothing hath begot my something grief;' How near the tidings of our comfort is.
Or something hath the nothing that I grieve:
But what it is, that is not yet known ; what
Green. God save your majesty !-and well met, North. Then thus;—I have from Port le Blanc,
gentlemen -a bay
I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. In Brittany, receiv'd intelligence, Thal Harry Hereford, Reignold Lord Cobham, Queen Why
hop'st ihou so ? "tis better hope.
For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope ;; Come, sister, --cousin, I would say: 'pray, far.
Go, fenw, I To the Servant.) get thee home,
And bring away the armour that is there.And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
[Erit Servant Who strongly hath set
footing in this land : Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? if I know The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, How, or which way, to order these affairs, And with uplift'd arms is safe arriv'd
Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, At Ravenspurg.
Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen Queen.
Now God in heaven forbid 1 The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath Green. O, madam, 'tis too true; and that is And duty bids defend: the other again, worse,
Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
Well, somewhat we must do.-Conne, cousin, I'll
I should to Plashy too
[Ereunt York and Queen. Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to And all the household servanta fled with him
Ireland, To Bolingbroke.
But none returns. For us to levy power,
Is all impossible.
their love Queen.
Who shall hinder me? Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, I will despair, and be at enmity
By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. With cozening hope; he is a flatterer,
Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally A parasite, a keeper-back of death,
condemn'd. Who gently would dissolve the band's life, Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we, Which false hope lingers in extremity.
Because we ever have been near the king.
Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristo)
The earl of Wiltshire is already there.
Except like curs to tear us all to pieces
Farewell : if heart's presages be not vain,
Is--numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry:
Green. Well, we may meet again.
I fear me, never Serv. My lord, your son was gone before 1
SCENE III. The Wilds in Glostershire. York. He was? Why, so! go all which way Enter Bolingbroke and Northumberland, with it will !
Forces. The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
now ? Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster;l North. Believe me, noble lord, Bid her send me presently a thousand pound :-'I
am a stranger here in Glostershire. Hold, take my ring.
These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways, Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lord- Draw out our miles, and make them wearisomes ship;
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found
And hope to joy, is little less in joy,
Shall make their way seem short: as mine hath How shall we do for money for these wars 1
By sigit of what I have, your noble company. Before I make reply to aught you say.
Boling. Of much less value is my company, Berk. Mistake me not, my lord ; 'uis not my
To raze one title of your honour out :
To you, my lord, I come (what lord you will,) North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, From the most gracious regent of this land, Sent from my brother Worcester, whenceso- The duke of York; to know, what pricks you on
To take advantage of the absent time, Harry, how fares your uncle ?
And fright our native peace with self-born arms. Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you.
Enter York, attended. North. Why, is he not with the queen ? Boling. I shall not need transport my words Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the
by you; court,
Here comes his grace in person. My noble Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd
Kneels. The household of the king.
York. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy North.
What was his reason ? knee, He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake Whose duty is deceivable and false. together.
Boling. My gracious uncle Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed York Tut, tut! traitor.
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle : But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg, I am no traitor's uncle; and that word-gruce, To offer service to the duke of Hereford; In an ungracious month, is but profane. And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs What power the duke of York had levied there; Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground? Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurg. But then more why; Why have they dar'd North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, to march boy !!
So many miles npon her peaceful bosom ; Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war, forgot,
And ostentation of despised arms ? Which ne'er I did remember; to my knowledge, Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence ? I never in my life did look on him.
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, North. Then learn to know him now: this is And in my loyal bosom lies his power. the duke.
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth, Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself, service,
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young ;
men, Which elder days shall ripen and confirm From forth the ranks of many thousand French; To more approved service and desert.
o, then, how quickly should this arm of mine, Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be Now prisoner to the palsy, chastice thee, sure,
And minister correction to thy fault! count myself in nothing else so happy, Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends;
fault; And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, On what condition stands it, and wherein ? It shall be still thy true love's recompense : York. Even in condition of the worst degree, My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus In gross rebellion, and detested treason: seals it.
Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come, North. How far is it to Berkley ? And what stir Before the expiration of thy time, Keeps good old York there, with his men of war? In braving arms against thy sovereign. Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of Boling. As I was banish’d, I was banish'd
trees, Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have But as I come, come for Lancaster, heard :
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace, And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye: Seymour ;
You are my father, for, methinks, in you None else of name, and noble estimate. I see old Gaunt alive ; 0, then, my father! Enter Ross and Willoughby.
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties North. Here come the lords of Ross and Wil. Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away loughby,
To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born ? Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. If that my cousin king, be king of England, Boling. Welcome, my lords : I wot your lov It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster. pursues
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman; A banish'd traitor: all my treasury
Had you first died, and he had been thus trod Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd, down, Shall be your love and labour's recompense. He should have found his uncle Gannt a father, Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble To rouse his wrongs,
and chase them to the bay. lord.
I am denied to sue my livery here, Willo. And far surmounts our labour to attain And yet my letters patent give me leave : it.
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and sold; Boling. Evermore thanks, the excheqner of And these, and all, are all amiss employed.
What wonld you have me do? I am a subject, Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, And challenge law : Attornies are denied me; Stands for my bounty. But who comes here 1 And therefore personally I lay my claim Enter Berkley.
To my inheritance of free descent.
North. The noble duke hath been too much North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess.
abus'd. Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to Ross. It stands your grace npon to do him right. you.
Will. Base men by his endowments are made Boling. My lord, my answer is-to Lancaster; great. And I am come to seek that name in England: York. My lords of England, let me tell you And I must find that title in your tongue,
I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs, I will anfold some canses of your death.
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him; Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
Broke the possession of a royal bed, North. The noble duke hath sworn, his co- And staind the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks ming is
With tears drawn from her eyes with your foul But for his own: and, for the right of that,
wrongs. We all have strongly sworn to give him aid; Myself-a prince, by fortune of my birth, And let him ne'er see joy, that breaks that oath. Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms; Till you did make him misinterpret nie,-
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
Dispark'd my parks, and fellid my forest woods; But, since I cannot, be it known to you, From my own winduws torn my household coat, I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well; Raz'd out my impress, leaving me no sign,Unless you please to enter in the castle, Save men's opinions, and my living blood, And there repose you for this night.
To show the world l'am a gentleman. Poling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept. This, and much more, much more than twice all But we must win your grace, to go with us
this, To Bristol Castle, which, they say, is held Condemns you to the death :-See them deliver'd By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices, The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
To execution and the hand of death. Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away. Bushy. More welcome is the stroke of death York. It may be, I will go with you :--but yet I'll pause;
Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewell For I am loath to break our country's laws. Green. My comfort is, -that hea ven will take Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are: our souls, Things past redress, are now with me past care. And plague injustice with the pains of hell.
[Exeunt. Boling. My Lord Northumberland, see them SCENE IV. A camp in Wales.
[Exeunt North. and others, with Prisoners. Enter Salisbury, and a Captain.
Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house;. Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten For heaven's sake, fairly let her be entreated; days,
Tell her, I send to her my kind commends; And hardly kept our countrymen together, Take special care my greetings be deliver'd. And yet we hear no tidings from the king : York. A gentleman of mine l have despatch'd Therefore we will disperse ourselves : farewell. With letters of your love to her at large. Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welsh- Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle. ---Come, lords, man;
away : The king reposeth all his confidence
To fight with Glendower and his complices; In thee.
Awhile to work, and, after, holiday. (Exeunt. Cap. 'Tis thought the king is dead : we will not SCENE II. The Coast of Wales. A castle in stay.
view. The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; Flourish : Drums and Trumpets. Enter King The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
Richard, Bishop of Carlisle, Aumerle, and
Soldiers. And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and K. Rich. Barkloughly Castle call you this at leap,
hand ? The one in fear to lose what they enjoy,
Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace The other to enjoy by rage and war:
the air, These signs forerun the death or fall of kings. After your late tossing on the breaking seas ? Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled, K. Rich. Needs must like it well; I weep As well assur’d, Richard their king is dead.
[Exit. To stand upon my kingdom once again. Sal. Ah, Richard ! with the eyes of heavy mind, Dear earth, I do salute thee with my hand, I see thy glory, like a shooting star,
Though rebels wound thee with their horses' Fall to the base earth from the firinament !
hoofs : Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west, As a long parted mother with her child Witnessing storms to come, wo and unrest : Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles, in meet. Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes : And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. (Exit. So, weeping, smiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favour with my royal hands.
Feed not thy sovereign's foe, my gentle earth, ACT III.
Nor with thy sweets comfort his ravenous sense ; SCENE I. Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol. But let thy spiders, that suck up thy venom, Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way; Percy, Willoughby, Ross: Officers behind which with usurping steps do trample thee.
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet, with Bushy and Green, prisoners.
Yield stinging nettles to mine enemies : Boling. Bring forth these men.
And when they from thy bosom pluck a flower, Bushy and Green, I will not vex your souls Guard it, I pray thec, with a lurking adder; (Since presently your souls must part your Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch bodies)
Throw death upon thy sovereign's enemies.With too much urging your pernicious lives, Mock not my senseless conjuration, lords; For 'twere no charity: yct, to wash your blood This earth shall have a feeling, and these stonos From off my hands, here, in the view of men, Prove armed soldiers, te her native king