North. Nay, fpeak thy mind; and let him ne'e
speak more,
That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm!
Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of
Hereford?
If it be fo, out with it boldly, man;
Quick is mine ear, to hear of good towards him.
Rofs. No good at all, that I can do for him;
Unless you call it good, to pity him,
Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.
North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis fhame fuch
wrongs are borne,
We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold.
Nerth. Then thus:-I have from Port le Blanc,
In Britany, receiv'd intelligence,
[a bay
5 That Harry Hereford, Reignold Lord Cobham,
That late broke from the duke of Exeter 2;
His brother, archbishop late 3 of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton, and
Francis Quoint,-
In him a royal prince, and many more
Of noble blood in this declining land.
The king is not himself, but bafely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
That will the king feverely profecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
Refs. The commons hath he pill'd with griev-20
And quite loft their hearts: the nobles he hath fin'd
For ancient quarrels, and quite loft their hearts.
Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd;
As-blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what:
But what, o' God's name, doth become of this?
North. War hath not wasted it, for warr'd he
hath not,
But bafely yielded upon compromise
All thefe, well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne,
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with ail due expedience,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore :
15 Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our flavish yoke,
Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Wipe off the dust that hides our scepter's gilt,
And make high majesty look like itself,
Away, with me, in post to Ravenspurg:
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay, and be fecret, and myself will go.
That which his ancestors atchiev'd with blows: 30
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars.
Refs. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in
farm.
[man. Will. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken North, Reproach, and diffolution, hangeth over 35 him.
Rofs. He hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,
But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. [king!
North. His noble kinfman :-Moft degenerate 40
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempcft fing,
Yet feek no fhelter to avoid the ftorm:
We fee the wind fit fore upon our fails,
And yet we strike not ', but fecurely perish.
Rofs. To horfe, to horfe! urge doubts to them
Enter Queen, Bushy, and Bagst.
Bufby. Madam, your majesty is much too fad:
To lay afide life-harming heaviness,
You promis'd, when you parted with the king,
And entertain a chearful difpofition.
Queen. To please the king I did; to please myself,
I cannot do it; yet I know no caufe
Save bidding farewel to so sweet a guest
Why I fhould welcome fuch a guest as grief,
As my fweet Richard: Yet again, methinks,
Some unborn forrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming toward me; and my inward foul
With nothing trembles: at fomething it grieves,
Refs. We fee the very wreck that we muft fuffer; 45 More than with parting from my lord the king. And unavoided is the danger now,
For fuffering fo the causes of our wreck.
North. Not fo; even through the hollow eyes
I spy life peering: but I dare not say,
How near the tidings of our comfort is. [doft ours. 50
Willo, Nay, let us fhare thy thoughts, as thou
Rofs. Be confident to speak, Northumberland :
Bushy. Each fubftance of a grief hath twenty
Which hew like grief itself, but are not fo:
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
For forrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Like perspectives 5, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confusion; ́ey'd awry,
To frike the fails, is, to contract them. broke from the duke of Exeter, applies folely to Thomas Arundel, fon and heir to the earl of Arundel who 2 Mr. Steevens observes, that this circumstance, of having was beheaded in this reign; and from thence conjectures, that a line is loft, in which his name had originally a place. The archbishop next mentioned, was uncle to this young lord, though Shakspeare miftakenly calls him his brother. 3 Having been deprived by the pope of his fee, at the request of the king. 4 This expreffion is borrowed from falconry. To imp a bawk, was to fupply fuch wing-feathers as dropped, or were forced out by any accident. meant is this; " Amongst mathematical recreations, there is one in optics, in which a figure is drawn, 5 Warburton says this is a fine fimilitude, and the thing wherein all the rules of perspective are inverted: fo that, if held in the fame pofition with those pictures which are drawn according to the rules of perspective, it can prefent nothing but confusion: and to be feen in form, and under a regular appearance, it must be looked upon from a contrary ftation; or, as Shakfpeare fays, cy'd awry,"
Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail
Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
Of what it is not. Then, thrice gracious queen,
More than your lord's departure weep not; more's
not feen:
Or if it be, 'tis with falfe forrow's eye,
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary.
Queen. It may be fo; but yet my inward foul
Perfuades me, it is otherwise: Howe'er it be,
I cannot but be fad; fo heavy fad,
Green. Here comes the duke of York.
Queen. With figns of war about his aged neck;
Oh, full of careful business are his looks!-
Uncle, for heaven's fake, speak comfortable words.
York. Should I do fo, I should bely my thoughts:
Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives, but croffes, care, and grief."
Your husband he is gone to fave far off,
to Whilft others come to make him lofe at home:
Here am I left to underprop his land;
As, though, in thinking, on no thought I think,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
Bushy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious 15
lady..
Queen. 'Tis nothing lefs: conceit is ftill deriv'd
From fome fore-father grief; mine is not fo;
For nothing hath begot my something grief;
Or fomething hath, the nothing that I grieve:
'Tis in reverfion that I do poffefs;
But what it is, that is not yet known; what
I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wot.
Enter Green.
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself :-
Now comes the fick hour that his furfeit made;
Now fhall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
Enter a Servant.
Ser. My lord, your fon was gone before I came."
York. He was? Why, fo!-go all which way
The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, 20 And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide.Sirrah,
Green. Heaven fave your majefty-and well 25 met, gentlemen :—
I hope the king is not yet ship'd for Ireland.
Queen. Why hop'st thou fo? 'tis better hope, he is; For his defigns crave hafte, his hafte good hope; Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not ship'd? Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd1
Get thee to Plafhy, to my fifter Glofter;
Bid her fend me prefently a thousand pound :-
Hold, take my.ring.
Ser. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship:
To-day, I came by, and call'd there;-but I
Shall grieve you to report the rest.
York. What is it, knave?
Ser. An hour before 1 came, the dutchefs dy'd.
York. Heaven for his mercy! what a tide of woes
Comes rushing on this woeful land at once!
I know not what to do:-I would to heaven,
(So my untruth 3 hath not provok'd him to it)
The king had cut off my head with my brother's.-
35 What, are there posts dispatch'd for Ireland ?—
How fhall we do for money for thefe wars ?—
Come, fifter,-coufin, I would fay; pray, pardon
Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,
The lord Northumberland, his young fon Henry|40
Percy,
The lords of Rofs, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
Busby. Why have you not proclaim'd Northum
berland,
And the rest of the revolted faction, traitors?
Green. We have: whereupon the earl of Worcester
Hath broke his staff, refign'd his stewardship,
And all the houshold fervants fied with him
To Bolingbroke.
Queen. So,Green, thou art the midwife of my woc, And Bolingbroke my forrow's dismal heir:
Go, fellow, get thee home, provide fome carts,
[To the fervant!
And bring away the armour that is there.
Gentlemen, will you go mufter men? If I know
How, or which way, to order these affairs,
Thus diforderly thrust into my hands,
45 Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;—
The one's my fovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend; the other again,
Is my kinfman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
Whom confcience and my kindred bids to right.
50 Well, fomewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, I'll
Dispose of you Go, muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley, gentlemen.
Now hath my foul brought forth her prodigy;fhould to Plafhy too→→
And I, a gafping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, forrow to forrow join'd. ·
Bushy. Defpair not, madam,
Queen. Who fhall hinder me?
I will defpair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope he is a flatterer,
A parafite, a keeper-back of death,
Who gently would diffolve the bands of life,
Which falfe hope lingers in extremity.
But time will not permit:All is uneven, 55 And every thing is left at fix and seven.
[Exeunt York and Queen,
Bushy. The wind fits fair for news to go to IreBut none returns. For us to levy power, [land, Proportionable to the enemy,
Green. Befides, our nearness to the king in love, Es near the hate of those love not the king.
1 i. e. drazon it back. 2 The lordship of Plafhy was a town of the dutchefs of Gloster's in Effex. 3. e. difloyalty, treachery.
Bagot. And that's the wavering commons: for
their love
Lies in their purfes; and whofo empties them,
By fo much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
Busby. Wherein the king ftands generally con- 5
demn'd.
Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then fo do we,
Because we have been ever near the king. [caftle;
Green. Well, I'll for refuge ftraight to Briftol
The earl of Wiltshire is already there.
Bufby. 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 along with us?
Bagot. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty.
Farewel: if heart's prefages be not vain,
We three here part, that ne'er fhall meet again.
Busby. That's as York thrives to beat back Boling-
broke.
Green, Alas! poor duke, the task he undertakes
Is-numb'ring fands, and drinking oceans dry;
Where one on his fide fights, thousands will fly.
Bufby. Farewel at once; for once, for all, and ever.
Green. Well, we may meet again.
Bagot. I fear me, never.
The wilds in Gioftershire.
Enter Bolingbroke and Northumberland.
Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my service,
Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;
Which elder days shall ripen and confirm
15 To more approved service and defert.
Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy: and be fure,
I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a foul remembring my good friends;
It fhall be ftill thy true love's recompence:
And, as my fortune ripens with thy love,
My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it.
North. How far is it to Berkley? And what stir
Keeps good old York there, with his men of war?
Percy. There ftands the castle, by yon tuft of
trees,
Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard:
And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and
None elfe of name, and noble estimate. [Seymour,
Enter Kofs and Willoughby.
Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley now? 30 North. Here come the lords of Rofs and
North. Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Gloftershire.
Thefe high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,
Draw out our miles, and make them wearifome:
And yet your fair discourse hath been as fugar,
Making the hard way fweet and delectable.
But, I bethink me, what a weary way,
From Ravenfpurg to Cotswold, will be found
In Rofs, and Willoughby, wanting your company;
Which, I proteft, hath very much beguil'd
The tediousness and procefs of my travel:
But theirs is fweeten'd with the hope to have
The prefent benefit that I poffefs:
Bloody with fpurring, fiery-red with hafte. [pursues
Boling. Welcome, my lords: I wot, your love
A banish'd traitor; all my treasury
35 Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,
Shall be your love and labour's recompence.
Rofs. Your prefence make us rich, most noble lord.
Willo. And far furmounts our labour to attain it.
Boling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of the
poor;
And hope to joy, is little less in joy,
Than hope enjoy'd: by this, the weary lords
Shall make their way feem fhort; 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 Harry Percy.
Nerth. It is my fon, young Harry Percy,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencefoever.-
Harry, how fares your uncle?
Percy, I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd
North. Why, is he not with the queen? [court,
Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forfook the
Broken his staff of office, and difpers'd
The houshold of the king,
Which, 'till my infant fortune comes to years,
Stands for my bounty. But who comes here?
Enter Berkley.
North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess.
Berk. My lord of Hereford, my meffage is to you.
Boling. My lord, my answer is to Lancaster;
And I am come to feek that name in England:
And I must find that title in your tongue,
Before I make reply to aught you say.
Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my
To raze one title of your honour out:-
To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will)
From the most glorious of this land,
55 The duke of York; to know, what pricks you on
To take advantage of the absent time',
And fright our native peace with felf-born arms.
Enter York, attended.
North. What was his reafon?
He was not fo refolv'd, when laft we spake together.
Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed
But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenfpurg, [traitor.
Boling. I fhall not need tranfport my words by you; Here comes his grace in perfon. My noble uncle ! [Kneels. York. Shew me thy humble heart, and not thy Whofe duty is deceivable and false. [knee,
1 Meaning, perhaps, the time of the king's abfence.
Boling. My gracious uncle !-
York. Tut, tot!
Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle:
1 am no traitor's uncle; and that word-grace,
In an ungracious mouth, is but prophane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a duft of England's ground?
But more than why, Why have they dar'd
to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bofom;
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
And oftentation of despised arms?
Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left hehind,
And in my loyal bofom lies his power.
Were I but now the lord of fuch hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,
Refcu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thousand French;
Oh, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palfy, chastise thee,
And minifter correction to thy fault!
Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault;
On what condition ftands it, and wherein ?
York. Even in condition of the worst degree,-
In grofs rebellion, and detefted treafon :
Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come,
Before the expiration of thy time,
In braving arms against thy fovereign.
But in this kind to come, in braving arms,
By his own carver, and cut out his way,
To find out right with wrong, it may not be ;
And you, that do abet him in this kind,
5 Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all.
North. The noble duke hath fworn, his coming is
But for his own: and, for the right of that,
We all have ftrongly fworn to give him aid;
And let him ne'er fee joy, that breaks that oath.
York. Well, well, I fee the iffue of these arms;
I cannot mend it, I muft needs confefs,
Because my power is weak, and all ill left:
But, if I could, by Him that gave me life,
I would attach you all, and make you stoop
15 Unto the fovereign mercy of the king;
But, fince I cannot, be it known to you,
I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well ;-
Unless you please to enter in the castle,
And there repofe you for this night.
Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
But we muft win your grace, to go with us
To Bristol caftle; which, they fay, is held
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,
25 Which I have fworn to weed, and pluck away.
York. It may be, I will go with you :-but yet
I'll paufe;
For I am loth to break our country's laws.
Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are:
Boling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Here- 30 Things paft redress, are now with me past care.
But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye:
You are my father, for, methinks, in you
Enter Salisbury, and a Captain.
Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten days,
And hardly kept our countrymen together,
And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
Therefore we will difperfe ourselves: farewel.
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trufty Welshman;
The king repofeth all his confidence in thee. [stay.
Cap. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not
The bay-trees in our country all are wither'd,
And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven:
45 The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
Rich men look fad, and ruffians dance and leap,→→→
The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy,
I fee old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father!
Will you permit that I shall stand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties
Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away
To upftart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
If that my coufin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a fon, Aumerle, my noble kinsman;
Had you firft dy'd, and he been thus trod down,
He fhould have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay.
I am deny'd to fue my livery here,
And yet my letters patents give me leave :
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and fold:
And these, and all, are all amifs employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law: Attornies are deny'd me;
And therefore perfonally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free defcent. [abus'd.
North. The noble duke hath been too much
Rofs. It ftands your grace upon, to do him right. 55
Willo. Bafe men by his endowments are made
great.
Yark. My lords of England, let me tell you this,-
I have had feeling of my coufin's wrongs,
And labour'd all I could to do him right:
The other, to enjoy by rage and war:
Thefe figns forerun the death of kings-
Farewel; our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well affur'd, Richard their king is dead. [Exit.
Sal. Ah, Richard! with eyes of heavy mind,
I fee thy glory, like a shooting star,
Fall to the base earth from the firmament!
Thy fun fets weeping in the lowly west,
Witneffing ftorms to come, woe, and unrest:
Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes;
And crofsly to thy good all fortune goes.
* On for in. 2 Dr. Johnson conjectures that this dialogue was probably the fecond scene in the enfuing act, and advifes the reader to infert it there.
Bolingbroke's Camp at Briftal.
Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Rofs, Percy,
Willoughby, with Bushy and Green, frifoners.
Boling BRIN
RING forth these men.-
Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your
fouls
(Since presently your fouls must part your bodies)
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity: yet to wash your blood
From off my hands, here, in the view of men,
I will unfold fome caufes of your death.
You have misled a prince, a royal king,
A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappy'd and disfigur'd clean.
You have, in manner, with your finful hours,
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him;
Broke the poffeffion of a royal bed,
And ftain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
SS CENE II.
The coaft of Wales. A caftle in view.
Flourish: drums and trumpets.
Enter King Richard, Aumerle, Bifpop of Carlife, and
foldiers.
K. Rich. Barkloughly caftle call you this at hand?
Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace
the air,
10 After your late toffing on the breaking feas?
K. Rich. Needs must I like it well; I weep
for joy,
To ftand upon my kingdom once again.
Dear earth, I do falute thee with my hand,
Though rebels wound thee with their horfes' hoofs:
As a long-parted mother with her child
Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in meeting;
So weeping, f.niling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favour with my royal hands.
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul 20 Feed not thy fovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Myfelf-a prince, by fortune of my birth;
Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
'Till you did make him mifinterpret me,-
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And figh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment:
Whilft you have fed upon my fignories,
Difpark'd' my parks, and fell'd my foreft woods;
Nor with thy fweets comfort his rav'nous fenfe;
But let thy fpiders, that fuck up thy venom,
And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way;
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet,
Which with ufurping steps do trample thee:
Yield ftinging nettles to mine enemies :
And when they from thy bofom pluck a flower,
Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder;
Whofe double tongue may with a mortal touch
From mine own windows torn my houfhold coat 2, 30 Throw death upon thy fovereign's enemies.
Raz'd out my imprefs 3, leaving me no sign,—
Save men's opinions, and my living blood,-
To fhew the world I am a gentleman.
This, and much more,much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death :-See them deliver'd 35
Busby. More welcome is the stroke of death to
Than Bolingbroke to England.-Lords, farewel.
Green. My comfort is, that heaven will take 40
our fouls,
And plague injuftice with the pains of hell.
Boling. My lord Northumberland, fee them dif
patch'd.-
Uncle, you say, the queen is at your house;
For heaven's fake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her, I fend to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver'd.
Tork. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
With letters of your love to her at large.
Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle.-Come, lords,
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Mock not my fenfeless conjuration, lords:
This earth fhall have a feeling, and these stones
Prove armed fold:ers, ere her native king
Shall faulter under foul rebellious arms.
Bishop. Fear not, my lord; that Power, that
made you king,
Hath power to keep you king, in spight of all.
The means that heaven yields must be embrac'd,
And not neglected; elfe, if heaven would,
And we would not heaven's offer, we refufe
The proffer'd means of fuccour and redress.
Aum. He means, my lord, that we are too remifs;
Whilft Bolingbroke, through our fecurity,
Grows ftrong and great, in fubftance, and in friends.
45 K. Rich. Difcomfortable cousin! know'st thou not,
That, when the fearching eye of heaven is hid
Behind the globe, and lights the lower world,
Then thieves and robbers range abroad unseen,
In murders, and in outrage, bloody here;
50 But when, from under this terrestrial ball,
He fires the proud tops of the eastern pines,
And darts his light through every guilty hole,
Then murders, treasons, and detested fins, [backs,
The cloak of night being pluckt from off their
To difpark is to throw down the hedges of an enclosure.
2 It was then the practice to anneal the
arms of the family in the windows of the house. 3 The imprefs was a device or motto. 4 Theobald is of opinion (and we think his reafons for thinking so are juft), that this line is an interpolation 5. Here Dr. Johnson thinks, may be properly inferted the last scene of the second A&t.
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