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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;
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd.
Bushy. Despair not, Madam.
Queen. Who shall hinder me?
I will despair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope; he is a flatterer,
A parasite, a keeper back of death,
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
Which false hope lingers in extremity.

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 hushand he is gone to save far off,
Whilst others come to make him lose at home:
Here am I lest to underprop his laud;
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself: -
Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him,

Enter a Servant.

Serv. My Lord, your son was gone before I

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.
Sirrah,

Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster;
Bid her and me presently a thousand pound:-

Hold, take my ring.

Serv. My Lord, I had forgot to tell your Lord

ship:

To-day, as I came by, I called there;
But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
York. What is it, knave?

Serv. An hour before I came, the Duchess died,
York. God for his mercy! what atide of woes

Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
I know not what to do; ---I would to God,
(So my untruth had not provok't him to it,)
The King had cut off my head with my brother's,-
What, are there posts despatch'd for Ireland?
How shall we do for money for these wars? -
Come, sister, - cousin, I would say: pray, par

don me.-
Go, fellow, [To the Servant.] get thee home,
provide some carts,

And bring away the armour that is there. —
[Exit Servant.
Gentlemen, will you go muster men? if I know
How, or which way, to order these affairs,
Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen;
The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend; the other again,
Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd;
Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right,
Well, sonrewhat me must do. -Come, cousin, t'll

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Dispose of you: - Go, muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley-castle.
I should to Plashy too; -

But time will not permit: - All is uneven,
And every thing is left at six and seven.

[Exeunt YORK and Queen. Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to

Ireland,

But none returns. For us to levý 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 wavering commons:

for their love

Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. Bushy. Wherein the King stands generally con

demn'd.

Bagot. If judgement lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been 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 to pieces. -
Will you go along with us?

Bagot. No; I'll to Ireland to his Majesty.
Farewell: 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. Farewell at once; for once, for all,

and ever.

Green. Well, we may meet again.
Bagot. I fear me, never.

[Exeunt.

SCENE III.

The Wilds in Glostershire.

Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with

Forces.

Boling. How far is it, my Lord, to Berkley

now?

North. Believe me, noble Lord,
I am a stranger here in Glostershire.

These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,
Draw out our miles. and make them wearisome:
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and délectable.
But, I bethink me, what a weary way

From Ravenspurg to Cotswold, will be found
In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your com-

pany;

Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweeten'd with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess :
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 sight of what I have, your noble company.

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

Enter HARRY PERCY.

North. It is my son, young Harry Percy,

Sent from my brother Worcester, whenceso

ever.

Harry, how fares your uncle?

Percy. I had thought, my Lord, to have learn'd

his health of you.

North. Why, is he not with the Queen?

Percy. No, my Lord; he hath forsook the

court,

Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd
The household of the King.

North. What was his reason?

He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake to

gether.

Percy. Because your Lordship was proclaimed

traitor.

But he, my Lord, is gone to Ravenspurg,
To offer service to the Duke of Hereford;
And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover
What power the Duke of York had levied there
Then with direction to repair to Ravenspurg.

North. Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford,

boy?

Percy. No, my good Lord: for that is not

forgot,

Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge,

I never in my life did look on him.

North. Then learn to know him now, this is

the Duke.

Percy. My gracious Lord, I tender you my

service,