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Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, K. Rich.: Where lies he ?
They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold, Bushy. At Ely-house.
And send them after to supply our wants ;

K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physician's For we will make for Ireland presently.,


To help him to his grave immediately!
Enter Bushy.

The lining of his coffers shall make coats
Bushy, what news?

To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. Bushy, Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him : lord;

Pray God, we may make haste, and come too late ! Suddenly taken ; and hath sent post-haste,

(Ereunt. To entreat your majesty to visit him.


my last


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SCENE I. - London. A Room in Ely House. This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

This fortress, built by nature for herself, GAUNT or a couch ; the Duke of Yors, and others Against infection, and the hand of war: standing by him.

This happy breed of men, this little world ; Geurt. Will the king come ? that I may breathe This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Which serves it in the office of a wall, la wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. Or as a moat defensive to a house, York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your Against the envy of less happier lands; breath;

This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Englana, For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.

This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Grunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying men Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, Enforce attention, like deep harmony;

Renowned for their deeds as far from home, Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in (For Christian service, and true chivalry,)

As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry, For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son : pain.

This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
He, that no more must say, is listen'd more Dear for her reputation through the world,
Than they whom youth and ease have taught to Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it)

Like to a tenement, or pelting farm :
More are mien's ends mark'd, than their lives before; England, bound in with the triumphant sea,

The setting sun, and musick at the close, Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last ; Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
Writ in remembrance, more than things long past : With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ;
Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, That England, that was wont to conquer others,
My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Hath made a shameful conquest of itself :
York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering 0, would the scandal vanish with my life,

How happy then were my ensuing death!
As, praises of his state: then, there are found
Lascivious metres; to whose venom sound

Enter KING RICHARD and QUEEN ; AUMERLI, The open ear of youth doth always listen :

BUSHY, GREEN, Bagot, Ross, and WILLOUGHBY. Report of fashions in proud Italy;

York. The king is come: deal mildly with his Whose manners still our tardy apish nation

youth; Limps after in base imitation.

For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity, (Se it be new, there's no respect how vile,)

Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster ? That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears ?

K. Rich. What comfort, man? How is't with Then all too late cornes counsel to be heard,

aged Gaunt ? Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.

Gaunt. o, how that name befits my composition ! Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; Old Gaunt, indeed ; and gaunt in being old : 'Tis breath thou lackest, and that breath wilt thou | Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; lose.

And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt ? Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new inspir'd; For sleeping England long time have I watch'd ; And thus, expiring, do foretell of him :

Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt : His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;

The pleasure, that some fathers feed upon, For violent fires soon burn out themselves : Is my strict fast, I mean my children's looks ; Small showers last long, but sudden storms are And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt; short;

Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes ; Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder : X. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with their Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

names? Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself : This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.



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X. Rich. Should dying 'men fatter with those

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. that live? Gaunt. No, no; men living flatter those that North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to die.

your majesty. X. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st thou Aat- K. Rich. What says he now? ter'st me.


Nay, nothing ; all is said: Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the sicker His tongue is now a stringless instrument; be.

Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. * K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt ill.

so! Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. thee ill;

K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land,

His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be : Wherein thou liest in reputation sick :

So much for that. Now for our Irish wars : And thou, too careless patient as thou art,

We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns; 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, hath 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. 0, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye,

York. How long shall I be patient ? Ah, how Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,

long From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame; Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,

Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishment, Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.

Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke It were a shame, to let this land by lease :

About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, But, for thy world, 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.

-a lunatick 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 ; With fury, from his native residence.

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

And not against his friends : his noble hand Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, Did win what he did spend, and spent not that This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, Which his triumphant father's hand had won : Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders. His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood, Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's But bloody with the enemies of his kin. son,

0, 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,

X. 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 befal in heaven 'mongst happy souls !) Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. May be a precedent and witness good,

Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood : The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford ? Join with the present sickness that I have;

Is not Gaunt dead ? and doth not Hereford 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 have an heir ? Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee ! Is not his heir a we!l-deserving son? These words hereafter thy tormentors be!

Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time Convey me to my bed, then to my grave :

His charters, and his customary rights ; Love they to live, that love and honour have. Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day ;

[Exit, borne out by his Attendants. Be not thyself, for how art thou a king, X. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens But by fair sequence and succession ? have ;

Now, afore God (God forbid, I say true!) For both hast thou, and both become the grave. If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,

York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his words Call in the letters patents that he hath To wayward sickliness and age in him :

By his attornies-general to sue He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here. You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, K. Rich. Right; you say true : as Hereford's You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, love, so his :

And prick my tender patience to those thoughts As theirs, sc. mine; and all be as it is.

Which honour and allegiance cannot think,



K. Rich.. Think what you will; we seize into | Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm : our hands

We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. And yet we strike not, but securely perish. .
York. I'll not be by, the while : My liege, fare- Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffer :

And unavoided is the danger now,
What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell ; For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
But by bad courses may be understood,

North. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of That their events can never fall out good. (Ert.

death, X. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire I spy life peering ; but I dare not say straight;

How near the tidings of our comfort is. Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,

Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou To see this business : To-morrow next

dost ours. We will for Ireland ; and 'tis time, I trow; Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland : And we create, in absence of ourself,

We three are but thyself; and, speaking so, Our uncle York lord governor of England, Thy words are but as thoughts ; therefore, be bold. For he is just, and always lov'd us well.

North. Then thus: — I have from Port le Blanc, Come on, our queen : to-morrow must we part;

a bay Be merry, for our time of stay is short. (Flourish. | In Britanny, receiv'd intelligence, (Eseunt King, Queen, Bushy, AUMERLE, That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham, GREEN, and BAGOT.

[The son of Richard Earl of Arundel,] North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is That late broke from the duke of Exeter, dead.

His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, Ross. And living too; for now his son is duke. Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Ramston, Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.

Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and Francis North. Richly in both, if justice had her right.

Quoint, Ross. My heart is great; but it must break with all these, well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne, silence,

With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war, Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue.

Are making hither with all due expedience, Nerth. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er And shortly mean to touch our northern shore : speak more,

Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! The first departing of the king for Ireland. Will. Tends that thou’dst speak, to the duke of If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke, Hereford ?

Imp out our drooping country's broken wing, If it be so, out with it boldly, man;

Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown, Quick is mine ear, to hear of good towards him. Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt, Rass. No good at all, that I can do for him ; And make high majesty look like itself, Unless you call it good, to pity bim,

Away, with me in post to Ravenspurg : Berest and gelded of his patrimony.

But if you faint, as fearing to do so, North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such Stay and be secret, and myself will go. wrongs are borne,

Ross. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them In him a royal prince, and many more

that fear. Of noble blood in this declining land.

Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be The king is not himself, but basely led


[Exeunt. By datterers; and what they will inform, Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,

SCENE II. - The same. A Room in the Palace. That will the king severely prosecute 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.

Enter QUEEN, BUSHY, and Bagot. Passo . The commons hath he pill'd with grievous Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad : taxes,

You promis’d, when you parted with the king, And lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fin'd To lay aside life-harming heaviness, Fæ ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. And entertain a cheerful disposition.

Fils. And daily new exactions are devis'd; · Queen. To please the king, I did ; to please myAs blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what ;

self, But what, o'God's name, doth become of this? I cannot do it, yet I know no cause Nerth. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he why I should welcome such a guest as grief, hath not,

Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest But basely yielded opon compromise

As my sweet Richard : Yet, again, methinks, That which bis ancestors achieved with blows : Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Is coming towards me; and my inward soul Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in With nothing trembles : at something it grieves, farm.

More than with parting from my lord the king. Filles The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken Bushy. Each substance of a grief hath twenty

North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth over Which show like grief itself, but are not so :

For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars, Divides one thing entire to many objects ;
His burdenous taxations notwithstanding,

Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
But by the robbing of the banish'a duke.

Show nothing but confusion ; ey'd awry, Nartk

. His noble kinsman : most degenerate king! Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty, But lords, we bear this fearful tempest sing, Looking awry upon your lord's departure,



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Finds shapes of griefs, more than himself, to wail; Comfort's in heaven ; and we are on the earth,
Which, look'd on it as it is, is nought but shadows Where nothing lives, but crosses, care, and grief.
Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen, Your husband he is gone to save far off,
More than your lord's departure weep not; more's Whilst others come to make him lose at home :
not seen :

Here am I left to underprop his land ;
Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,

Who,' weak with age, cannot support myself : Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made ; .

Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him, Persuades me, it is otherwise : Howe'er it be,

Enter a Servant.
I cannot but be sad ; so heavy sad,
As-though, in thinking, on no thought I think, Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came.
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. York. He was ? - Why, so ! - go all which way
Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady:

it will !
Queen. 'Tis nothing less : conceit is still deriv'a The nobles they are fled, the commons cold,
From some fore-father grief; mine is not so; And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
For nothing hath begot my something grief ;

Or something hath the nothing that I grieve; Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster;
'Tis in reversion that I do possess ;

Bid her send me presently a thousand pound : But what it is, that is not yet known; what Hold, take my ring. I cannot name ; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.

Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:

To-day, as I came by, I called there;-
Enter GREEN.

But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
Green. God save your majesty ! - and well met, York. What is it, knave ?

Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess died. I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes

Queen. Why hop'st thou so? "tis better hope he is; Comes rushing on this woeful land at once ! For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope ; I know not what to do :- I would to God, Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not shipp'd ? (So my untruth had not provok'd him to it,) Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his The king had cut off my head with my brother's power,

What, are there posts despatch'd for Ireland ?And driven into despair an enemy's hope,

How shall we do for money for these wars? Who strongly hath set footing in this land: Come, sister, cousin, I would say: pray, pardon The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself, And with uplifted arms is safe arriv'd

Go, fellow, [to the Servant.] get thee home, provide At Ravenspurg

some carts, Queen.

Now God in heaven forbid ! And bring away the armour that is there. — Green. O, madam, 'tis too true; and that is

[Exit Servant worse,

Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? if I know The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry How, or which way, to order these affairs, Percy,

Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. The one's my sovereign, whom both my path Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northum- And duty bids defend; the other again, berland,

Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd; And all the rest of the revolting faction

Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. Traitors ?

Well, somewhat we must do. - Come, cousin, I'll Green. We have : whereon the earl of Worcester Dispose of you : - Go, muster up your men, Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, And meet me presently at Berkley-castle. And all the household servants fled with him I should to Plashy too ;To Bolingbroke.

But time will not permit :- All is uneven, Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, And every thing is left at six and seven. And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir :

[Exeunt York and Qur. Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy ; Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go ta And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,

Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. But none returns. For us to levy power,
Bushy. Despair not, madam.

Proportionable to the enemy,

Who shall hinder me? Is all impossible. I will despair, and be at enmity

Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, With cozening hope ; he is a flatterer,

Is near the hate of those love not the king. A parasite, a keeper-back of death,

Bagot. And that's the wavering commons: for Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,

their love Which false hope lingers in extremity.

Lies in their purses ; and whoso empties them, Enter YORK.

By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.

Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally conGreen. Here comes the duke of York.

demn'd. Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck ; Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we, 0, full of careful business are his looks !

Because we ever have been near the king. Uncle,

Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words.

castle ; York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: The earl of Wiltshire is already there.

Bushy. Thither will I with you : for little office Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
The hateful commons will perform for us ; Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;
Ercept, like curs, to tear us all to pieces. - Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm
Will you go along with us?

To more approved service and desert.
Bagat. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty. Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be sure,
Farewell : if heart's presages be not vain,

I count myself in nothing else so happy,
We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. As in a soul rememb’ring my good friends ;
Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back Bo- And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,

It shall be still thy true love's recompense :
Green. Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
Is-numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry ; North. How far is it to Berkley? And what stir
Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. Keeps good old York there, with his men of war?
Busky. Farewell at once; for once, for all, and Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of

trees, Green. Well, we may meet again.

Mann'd with three hundred men;-as I have heard : Bagat.

I fear me, never. And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Sey(Ereunt.


None else of name, and noble estimate. SCENE III. - The Wilds in Glostershire.

Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY. Enter BOLINGBROXE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with North. Here come the lords of Ross and WilForces.

loughby, Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley now? Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. North. Believe me, noble lord,

Boling. Welcome, iny lords : I wot your love I am a stranger here in Glostershire.

pursues These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,

A banish'd traitor; all my treasury Draw out our miles, and make them wearisome : Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd, And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar, Shall be your love and labour's recompense. Making the hard way sweet and délectable.

Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble But, I bethink me, what a weary way

lord. From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found Willo. And far surmounts our labour to attain it. In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company;

Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd

poor ; The tediousness and process of my travel :

Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, But theirs is sweeten'd with the hope to have Stands for my bounty. . But who comes here? The present benefit which I possess :

And hope to joy, is little less in joy,
Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords

North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess.
Sball make their way seem short; as mine hath done Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you.
By sight of what I have, your noble company, Boling. My lord, my answer is to Lancaster ;
Boling. Of much less value is my company,

And I am come to seek that name in England : Than your good words. But who comes here?

And I must find that title in your tongue,

Before I make reply to aught you say.
Enter HARRY Percy.

Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my Nerth. It is my son, young Harry Percy,

meaning, Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.

To raze one title of your honour out :Harry, how fares your uncle?

To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,) Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd From the most glorious regent of this land, bis health of you.

The duke of York; to know, what pricks you on North. Why, is he not with the queen ?

To take advantage of the absent time, Perry. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the And fright our native peace with self-born arms.

court, Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd

Enter YORK, attended. The household of the king.

Boling. I shall not need transport my words by North What was his reason ?

you ; He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake together. Here comes his grace in person, — My noble uncle ! Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed

(Kneels. traitor.

York. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg,

knee, To offer service to the duke of Hereford ;

Whose duty is deceivable and false. And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover

Boling. My gracious uncle ! What power the duke of York had levied there ; York. Tut, tut ! Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurg. Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, I am no traitor's uncle; and that word – grace, boy?

In an ungracious mouth, is but profane. Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not forgot, Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge,

Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground ? I never in my life did look on him.

But then more why; -Why have they dar'd to North. Then learn to know him now; this is the

march duke.

So many miles vpon her peaceful bosom:

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