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SCENE VII. Enter York,
Green. Here comes the Duke of York.

Queen. With figns of war abont his aged neck;
Olr, full of careful business are his looks!
Uncle, for heav'n's fake, comfortable words.

York. Should I do so, I thould bely my thoughts;
Comfort's in heav'n, and we are on the e:urth,
Where nothing lives but crofles, care, and grief,
Your hutband he is gone to fave fır oil,
Whilst others come to make him lofe at home.
Here am I left to underprop this land;
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself.
Now comes the liek hour, that his furfeit made;
Now thall he try his friends that Matter'd him.

Enter a Servant. Serv. My Lord, your son was gone before I came.

York. He was; why, so, go all which way it will !
The Nobles they are fled, the Commons cold,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side,
Get thee to Plathie, to my litter Glo'iter ;
Bid her send presently a thousand pound :
Hold, take my ring.

Serv. My Lord, I had forgot
To tell, to-day I came by, and call'd there;
But I thall grieve you to report the relt.

York. What is't?
Serv. An hour before I came the Duchefs dy'd.

York. Heav'n for his merey, what a tide of woes
Come rushing on this wosul land at once !
I know not what to do: I would to heav'n
(So
The King had cut off my head with my brother's.
What, are there poits dispatch'd for Ireland ?
How shall we do for money for these wars ?
Come, ffer; (coulin, I would lay), pray, pardon me.
Go, fellow, get thee home, provide fome carts,

[To the servant, And bring away the armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you go and muster men ? If I know how to order thefe affairs,

Disorderly

.

SCENE VI. Enter Green.
Green. Heav'n fave your Majesty! and well met,

Gentlemen.
I hope the King is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.

Queen. Why hop'lt thou fo? 'tis better hope he is :
For his designs crave hafte, his halte good hope.
Then wherefore dolt thou hope he is not shipp'd ?

Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his
And driv'n into despair an enemy's hope, (power;
Who strongly hath set footing in this land.
The banilh'd Bolingbroke repeals himself;
And with uplifted arms is safe arriv’d
At Ravenfpurg.

Queen. Now God in heav'n forbid !

Green. O, Madam, 'tis too true ; and what is worse, The Lord Northumberland, his young

son Percy, The Lords of Rols, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their pow'rful friends, are fled to him.

Busby. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumber-
And all of that revolted faction, traitors ? [land,

Green. We have: whereon the Earl of Worcester
Hath broke his staff, refign'd his stewardthip;
And all the houshold-fervants fled with him
To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe,
And Bolingbroke my forrow's difinal heir.
Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy,
And I, a gasping new-deliver's mother,
Have woe to woe,

sorrow to forrow join'd. Bulhy. Despair not, Madam.

Queen. Who shall hinder me?
I will despair, and be at enmity
With cozening Hope; he is a flatterer,
A parafite, a keeper back of death;
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
Which false hopes linger, in extremity.

Or something hath the nothing that I grieve;
"Tis in reversion that I do pefleis;
But what it is, that is not yet known, what
I cannot name, 'tis nameless woe, I wot,
SCENE, &c.

SCENE

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SCENE VII. Enter York.
Green. Here comes the Duke of York.

Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck;
Oh, full of careful business are his looks!
Uncle, for heav'n's fake, comfortable words.

York. Should I do so, I should bely my thoughts;
Comfort's in heav'n, 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 lofe at home.
Here am I left to underprop this land;
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself.
Now comes the fick hour, that his furfeit made;
Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

Enter a Servant. Serv. My Lord, your son was gone before I came.

York. He was; why, so, go all which way it will !
The Nobles they are fled, the Commons cold,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide.
Get thee to Plafhie, to my fister Glo'ster ;
Bid her send presently a thousand pound :
Hold, take my ring.

Serv. My Lord, I had forgot
To tell, to-day I came by, and call'd there;
But I shall grieve you to report the rest.

Pork. What is't?
Serv. An hour before I came the Duchefs dy'd.

York. Heav'n for his mercy, what a tide of woes
Come rushing on this woful land at once!
I know not what to do: I would to heav'n
(So my untruth had not provok'd him to it)
The King had cut off my head with my brother's.
What, are there posts dispatch'd for Ireland ?
How shall we do for money for these wars?
Come, fifter; (coufin, I would say), pray, pardon me.
Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts,

[To the feruant, And bring away the armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you go and muster men ? If I know how to order these affairs,

Disorderly

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Disorderly thus thrust into my hands,
Never believe me. They are both my kinsmen ;
The one my Sovereign, whom both my

oath
And duty bids defend; th’ other again
My kinsman is, one whom the King hath wrong'd;
Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
Well, somewhat we must do: come, cousin, I'll
Dispose of you, Go muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley castle.
I thould to Plathie too ;
But time will not permit.

All is uneven,
And every thing is left at six and seven.

[Exeunt York and Queen,
S C Ε Ν Ε VIII.
Bushy. The wind fits fair for news to go to Ireland,
But none returns, for us to levy power,
Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all impossible.

Green. Besides, our nearness to the King in love,
Is near the hate of those love not the King.

Bagot. And that's the way’ring Commons; for their
Lies in their purses; and who empties them, [lore
By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
Bushy. Wherein the King stands generally condemn'd.

Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we;
Because we have been ever near the King.

Green. Well; I'll for refuge straight to Bristol castle ;
The Earl of Wiltshire is already there.

Bushy. Thither will I with you; for little office
The hateful Commons will perform for us;
Except, like curs to tear us all in pieces.
Will you go with us?

Bagot. No: I'll to Ireland to his Majesty.
Farewel: if heart's presages be not vain,
We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again.
Bushy. That's as York thrives, to beat back Bo-

lingbroke.
Green. Alas, poor Duke! the task he undertakes
Is numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry;
Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly.
Bushy. Farewel at once, for once, for all, and ever.

Green.

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Green. Well, we may meet again: i i plot
Bagotos I fear me, never.

[Exeunt.
SCENE IX.
. Changes to a wild prospect in Gloucestershire.

Enter Bolingbroke and Northumberland. Boling. How far is it, my Lord, to Berkley now?

North. I am a stranger here in Glo'stershire : These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways, Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome : And yet your fair discourse has been as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable. But I bethink me what a weary way, From Ravenspurg to Cotfhold, will be found In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company, Which, I protest, hath very much beguild The tediousness and process of my travel; But theirs is sweet'ned with the hope to have The present benefit that I poffefs : And hope to joy, is little less in joy Than hope enjoy'd. By this the weary Lords Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done, By fight of what I have, your noble company.

Boling. Of much less value is my company, Than your good words. But who comes here?

Enter Percy. North. It is my fon, young Harry Percy, Sent from my brother Worcester. Whencesoever, Harry, how fares your uncle ?

Percy. I thought, my Lord, t'havelearn'd his health North. Why, is he not with the Queen?

Percy. No, my good Lord, he hath forlook the court, Broken his staff of office, and dispers’d The houshold of the King.

North. What was his reason ? He was not so resolv'd when last we spake together.

Percy. Because your Lordfhip was proclaimed traitor. But he, my Lord is gone to Ravenspurg, To offer service to the Duke of Hereford ; And fent me o'er by Berkley, to discover VOL. IV.

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