Enter Bushy.

Against infection, and the hand of war; Bushy, what news?

This happy breed of men, this little world; Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, | This precious stone set in the silver sea, my lord ;

Which serves it in the office of a wall, Suddenly taken; and hath sent post-haste,

Or as a moat defensive to a house, To entreat your majesty to visit him.

Against the envy of less happier lands; K. Rich. Where lies he?

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Bushy. At Ely-house.

England, K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physi- This nurse, this teening womb of royal kings, cian's mind,

Fear'd by their breed, and famous by theit To help him to his grave immediately!

birth, The lining of his coffers shall make coats

Renowned for their deeds as far from home, To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.

(For Christian service, and true chivalry,) Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him : As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, Pray God, we may make haste, and come too

Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son: late!


This land of such dear souls, this dear dear

land, ACT II.

Dear for her reputation through the world,

Is now leas’d out (I die pronouncing it,) SCENE 1.--London.- A Room in Ely-house. Like to a tenement, or pelting* farm: Gaunt on a Couch; the Duke of York, and

England, bound in with the triumphant sea, others standing by him.

Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege

Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with Gaunt. Will the king come? that I may

shame, breathe my last

With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds; In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth. That England, that was wont to conquer others, York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with Hath made a shameful conquest of itself: your breath;

O, would the scandal vanish with my life, For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. How happy then were my ensuing death!

Guunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying Enter King Richard, and Queen; AUMERLE, Enforce attention, like deep harmony: (men Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent

Bushy, GREEN, Bagot, Ross, and Wila in vain :

[in pain.

LOUGHBY. for they breathe truth, that breathe their words York. The king is come: deal mildly with He, that no more may say, is listen'd more

his youth;

(more. Then they whom youth and ease have taught For young hot colts, being rag'd, do raġe the to glose;*

(before: Queen. low fares our noble uncle, LancasMore are men's ends mark'd, than their lives

ter? The setting sun, and music at the close, K. Rich. What, comfort, man? How is't As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last;

with aged Gaunt? Writ in remembrance, more than things long Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composi. past :


tion ! Though Richard my life's counsel would not Old Gaunt, indeed; and gauntt in being old: My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt? sounds,

For sleeping England long time bavelwatch'd; As, praises of his state: then, there are found Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all Lascivious metres; to whose venom sound

gaunt: The open ear of youth doth always listen: The pleasure, that some fathers feed upon, Report of fashions in proud Italy;

Is my strict fast, I mean—my children's looks; Whose manners still our tardy a pish nation And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt: Limps after, in base imitation,

Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity, Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,) K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears ?

their names ? Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock it. Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.

self: Direct not him, whose way himself will choose; Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, 'Tis breath thou lack’st, and that breath wilt 1 mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. thon lose.

K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new in

that live? spir'd;

Guunt. No, no; men living flatter those that And thus, expiring, do foretell of him ;

die. His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;

K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st-thou For violent fires soon burn out themselves :

flatter'st'me. Small showers last long, but sudden storms are Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the short;

sicker be. He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes; K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder:

thee ill. Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

thee ills This royal throne of kings, ihis scepter'd isle, | Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, Thy death-bed is no lesser than the land, This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

Wherein thou liest in reputation sick: Tais fortress, built by nature for herself, And thou, too careless patient as thou art, • Flatter,

* Paltry.

lear, thin

Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure Which live like venom, where no venom else,
Of those physicians that first wounded thee: But only they, bath privilege to live.*
A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; Towards our assistance, we do seize to us
And yet, incaged in so small a verge,

The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
O, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, York. How long shall I be patient? Ah,
Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,

how long Erom forth thy reach he would have laid thy Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? shame;

Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishDeposing thee before thou wert possess'd,


[wrongs, Which art possess'd* now to depose thyself. Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, Nor the pervention of poor Bolingbroke It were a shame to let this land by lease : About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, But, for thy worid, enjoying but this land, Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, Is it not more than shame, to shame it so ? Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.Landlord of England art thou now, not king: I am the last of noble Edward's sons, Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first; And thou

In war, was never lion rag'd more fierce, K. Rich. - alnnatic lean-witted fool, In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild, Presuming on an ague's privilege,

Than was that young and princely gentleman: Dar'st with thy frozen admonition

His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, Make pale our cheek; chasing the royal blood, Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours ;t With fury, from his native residence.

But, when he frown'd, it was against the Now by my seat's right royal majesty,

French, Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, And not against his friends: his noble hand This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, Did win what he did spend, and spent not that Should run thy head from thy unreverend Which his triumphant father's hand had won : shoulders.

His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood, Gaunt. 0, spare me not, my brother Ed. But

bloody with the enemies of his kin. ward's son,

(, Richard ! York is too far gone with grief, For that I was his father Edward's son; Or else he never would compare between. That blood already, like the pelican,

K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter? Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd: York. O, my liege, My brother Gloster, plain well-meaning soul, Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd (Whom fair befall' in heaven ʼmongst happy Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. May be a precedent and witness good, (souls!) Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? blood :

Is not Gaunt dead? and doth not Hereford Join with the present sickness that I have;

live? And thy unkindness be like crooked age, Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true ? To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower. Did not the one deserve to bave an heir ? Live in thy shame, but die not shame with Is not his heir a well-deserving son ? [time thee!

Take Hereford's rights away, and take from These words hereafter thy tormentors be! His charters, and his customary rights; Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:

Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day; Love they to live, that love and honour have. Be not thyself, for how art thou a king,

[Exit, borne out by his Attendants. But by fair sequence and succession ? K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sul. Now, afore God (God forbid, I say true!). lens have;

If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, For both hast thou, and both become the grave. Call in the letters patent that he hath

York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his By his attornies-general to sue To wayward sickliness and age in him: [words His livery,t and deny his offer'd homage, He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here. You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, K. Rich. Right; you say true: as Hereford's And prick my tender patience to those thoughts love, so his :

Which honour and allegiance cannot think. As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.

K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize in

to our hands Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.

His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him York. I'll not be by, the while: My liege, to your majesty.

farewell : K. Rich. What says he now?

What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; North. Nay, nothing; all is said :

But by bad courses may be understood, His tongue is now a stringless instrument;

That their events can never fall out good. Words, lile, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.

(Erit. York. Bé York the next that must be bank- K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire rupt so!

straight; Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. Bid him repair to us to Ely-house, K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so To see this business : To-morrow next doth he;

We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow; His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be: And we create, in absence of ourself, So much for that.- Now for our Irish wars: Our uncle York lord governor of England, We must supplant those rough rug-headed For he is just, and always lov'd us well.kerng;

* Alluding to the idea that no venomous reptiles sing + Irish soldiers + When of thy age.

Taking possession.

in Ireland.


Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part; | We three are but thyself; and, speaking, so, Be merry, for our time of stay is short. Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, bu


bold. (Exeunt Kisc, QUEEN, BUSHY, AUMERLE, North. Then thus :- I have from Port le Green, and Bagot.

Blanc, a bav North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster In Brittany, receiv'd intelligence, is dead.

That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham, Ross. And living too; for now his son is (The son of Richard Earl of Arundel,] duke.

That late broke from the duke of Exeter, Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue. His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, North. Richly in both, if justice had her Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Ramston, right.

Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and Ross. My heart is great; but it must break

Francis Quoint,

[tagne, with silence,

All these well furnish'd by the duke of BreEre't be disburden'd with a liberal* tongue. With eight tall* ships, three thousand men of North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more,

Are making hither with all due expedience,t That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! And shortly mean to touch our northern shore: Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay duke of Hereford ?

The first departing of the king for Ireland. If it be so, out with it boldly, man;

If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him. Impt out our drooping country's broken wing,

Ross. No good at all, that I can do for him ; Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd Unless you call it good to pity him,

crown, Berest and geldedt of his patrimony.

Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt, $ North. Now, atore heaven, 'tis shame, such And make high majesty look like itself, wrongs are borne,

Away, with me, in post to Ravenspurg :
In him a royal prince, and many more But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Of noble blood in this declining land.

Stay, and be secret, and myself will go.
The king is not himself, but basely led

Ross. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to By flatterers; and what they will inform,

them that fear. Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,

Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be That will the king severely prosecute [heirs.


(Excunt. 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our Russ. The commons hath he pill'di with SCENE II.--The same.-A Room in the grievous taxes,

And lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fin'd
For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their Enter Queen, Busty, and BAGOT.

hearts. Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd; Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too mucha As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what:

sad: But what, o'God's name, doth become of this? You promis'd, when you parted with the king, North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd To lay aside life-harming heaviness, he hath not,

And entertain a cheerful disposition. Bat basely yielded upon compromise

Queen. To please the king, I did; to lease That which his ancestors achiev'd with blows: I cannot do it; yet I know no cause (myselí, More hath he spent in peace, than they in Why I sbould welcome such a guest as grief,

Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest Ross. The earl of Wiltshire bath the realm As my sweet Richard : Yet, again, methinks, in farm.

Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a Is coming towards me; and my inward soul broken man.

With nothing trembles: at something it grieves, North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth More than with parting from my lord the king. over him.

Bushy. Each substance of a grief hath twenty Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars, which show like grief itself, but are not so:

shadows, His burdenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the rubbing of the banish'd duke. For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, North. His noble kinsman: most degenerate Divides one thing entire to many objects; king!

Like perspectives,l! which, rightly gaz'd upoo, But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing, Show nothing but confusion; ey'd awry, Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm: Distinguish form : so your sweet majesty, We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,

Looking awry upon your lord's departure, And yet we strike not, but securely perish.$ Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to Ross. We see the very wreck thai we must


[dows And unavoided is the danger now, (suffer; Which, look'd on as it is, is pought bui shaFor suffering so the causes of our wreck. Of what is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes More than your lord's departure weep not of death,

more's not seen: I spy life peering; but I dare not say Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, How near the tidings of our comfort is. Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as Queeen. It may be so; but yet my inwait thou dost ours.

soul Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumber- Persuades me, it is otherwise : Howe'er it be land:

I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad,


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way it will !


his power,

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As,-though, in thinking, on no thought I Who, weak with age, cannot supy at myself:-

Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit,* niy gra-
cious lady.

Enter a SERVANT.
Queen. "I'is nothing less : conceit is still de- Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I

From some fore-father grief; mine is not so; York. He was ?-Why, so!-go all which
For nothing hath begot my something stief;
Or something bath the nothing that I grieve: The nobles they are fed, the commons cold,
"Tis in reversion that I do possess;

And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.-
But, what it is, that is not yet known; what Sirrah,
I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.t Get thee to Plasby, to my sister Gloster ;

Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:
Enter GREEN.

Hold, take niy ring.
Green. God save your majesty!—and well Serr. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lord.
met, gentleman :-

To-day, as I came by, I called there; (ship:
I hope the king is not yet shipp?d for Ireland. But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
Queen. Why hop'st thou so i 'tis better hope, York. What is it, knave?
he is;

(hope; Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess for his designs crave haste, his haste good

died. Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not York. God for his mercy! what a tide of

shipp'd ? Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd Comes rushing on this woful land at once!

I know not what to do :- I would to God, And driven into despair an enemy's hope, (So my untruth* had not provok'd him to it,) Who strongly bath set footing in this land: The king had cut off my head with my bro. The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals hiniself,

ther's. And with uplifted arms is sate arriv'd What are these posts despatch'd for Ireland? At Ravenspurg.

How shall we do for money for these wars ! Queen. Now God in heaven forbid!

Come, sister,-cousin, I would say: pray par. Green. 0, madam, 'tis too true: and that is

don me, worse,

Go, fellow, (To the SERVANT.) get thee home, The lord Northumberland, his young son

provide some carts, Henry Percy,

And bring away the armour that is there. The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,

[Exit SERVANT. With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? if I know Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd North- How, or which way, to order these affairs, umberland,

Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
And all the rest of the revolting faction Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen;
Traitors ?

The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath Green. We have: whereon the earl of Wor- And duty bids defend; the other again, cester

Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd; Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. And all the household servants fled with him Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to Dispose of you :-Go, muster up your men
my woe,

And meet ne presently at Berkley-castle.
And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: I should to Plashy too;-
Now hath my soul bronght forth her prodigy; But time will not permit:-All is uneven,
And I, a gasping new.deliver's mother, And every thing is left at six and seven.
Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.

[Exeunt York and QUEEN. Bushy. Despair not, madam.

Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to Queen. Who shall binder me?

Irelaid, I will despair, and be at enmity

But none returns. For us to levy power, With cozening bope; he is a fatterer,

Proportionable to the enemy,
A parasite, a keeper-back of death,

Is all impossible.
Tho gently would dissolve the bands of life, Green. Besides our nearness to the king in
Vhich false hope lingers in extremity.

Enter York.

Is near the bate of those love not the king.

Bagot. And that's the wavering comhions Green. Here comes the duke of York.

for their love Queen. With signs of war about his aged Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, neck;

By so much tills' their hearts with deadly bate O, full of careful business are his looks !- Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally Uncle,

condemn'd. For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. Bagot. It judgement lie in them, then so do York. Should I do so, I should belie my

we, thoughts:

Because we ever have been near the king. Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Brise Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and

tol castle; grief.

The earl of Wiltshire is already there. Your husband he is gone to save far off,

Bushy. Thither will I with you : for little Whilst others come to make him lose at home:

office Here am I left to underprop his land; The hateful commons will perform for ud; fancitul concepnon. know. Drawn it back.

* Disloyaltv.

the poor ;

£xcept like curs to tear us all to pieces.- Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be Will you go along with us?

sure, Bagot. No:l'i to Ireland to his majesty. I count myself in nothing else so happy, Farewell : if heart's presages be not vain, As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. And, as my fortune ripens with thy love, Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back It shall be still thy true love's recompense : Bolingbroke.

My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus Green. Alas, poor duke ! the task he under

seals it. takes

North. How far is it to Berkley ? And what Is-numb’ring sands, and drinking oceans dry;


(war? Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. Keeps good old York there, with his nen of Bushy. Farewell at once ; for once, for all, Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft and ever.

of trees,

[heard : Green. Well, we may meet again,

Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have Bagot. I fear me, never.

[Exeunt. And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and SCENE III.-The Wilds in Glostershire.


None else of name, and noble estimate. Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces.

Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY. Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley North. Here come the lords of Ross and now?

Willoughby, North. Believe me, noble lord,

Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. I am a stranger here in Glostershire.

Boling. Welcome, my lords: I wot,* your These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,

love pursues Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome: A babish'd traitor; all my treasury And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, niore enrich'd, Making the hard way sweet and délectable. Shall be your love and labour's recompense. But, I bethink me, what a weary way

Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found

noble lord. In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your com- Willo. And far surmounts our labour to at. pany;

tain it. Which, 1 protest, bath very much beguild Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of The tediousness and process of my travel: But theirs is sweeten'd with the hope to have Which, till my infant fortune come to years, The present benefit which I possess:

Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? And hope to joy, is little less in joy, Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords

Enter Berkley. Shall make their way seem short; as mine North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. hath done

Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is By sight of what I have, your noble company.

to you. Boling. Of much less value is my company, Boling. My lord, my answer is to LanThan your good words. But who comes here?


And I am come to seek that name in England: Enter HARRY PERCY.

And I must find that title in your tongue, North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, Before I make reply to aught you say. Sent from my brother Worcester, whence- Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my

meaning, Harry, how fares your uncle?

To raze one title of your honour out:Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,) learn’d his health of you.

From the most glorious regent of this land, North. Why, is he not with the queen ? The duke of York; to know, what pricks you Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook To take advantage of the absent time,t [on

And fright our native peace with self-burn Broken bis staff of office, and dispers'd The household of the king. North. What was his reason? (together.

Enter York, attended. He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake Boling. I shall not need transport my words Percy. Because your lordship was pro

by you; claimed traitor.

Here comes his grace in person.—My noble But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg,

uncle !

(K'neels. To offer service to the duke of Hereford ;

York. Show me thy humble heart, and not And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover

thy knee, What power the duke of York had levied there; Whose duly is deceivable and false. Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurg. Boling. My gracious uncle ! North. Have you forgot the duke of Here- York. Tut, tut! ford, boy?

Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle: Percy. No, mny good lord ; for that is not I am no traitor's uncle; and that word-grace, forgot,

[ledge, in an ungracious mouth, is but profane. Which ne'er í did remember: to my know. Why have those banish' and forbidden legs I never in my life did look on him.

Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's North. Then learn to know him now; this is

ground? the duke.

But then more why; Why have they dar'd Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my

to march service,

So many miles upon her peaceful busom; Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young; Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with warn Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm To more approved service and desert,

* Know | Time of the king s abrence.


the court,



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