With fury, from his native refidence.
Now by my feat's right royal majefty,
Wert thou not brother to great Edward's fon,
This tongue that runs fo roundly in thy head,
Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders.
Gaunt. O, fpare me not, my brother Edward's fon,
For that I was his father Edward's fon;

That blood already, like the pelican,

Haft thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd;
My brother Glofter, plain well-meaning foul,
(Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy fouls!)
May be a precedent and witnefs good,

That thou refpect'ft not spilling Edward's blood:
Join with the prefent fickness that I have;
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.
Live in thy fhame, but die not shame with thee!-
These words hereafter thy tormentors be!—
Convey me to my bed, then to my grave :-
Love they to live, that love and honour have.

[Exit, borne out by his Attendants. K. Rich. And let them die, that age and fullens have; For both haft thou, and both become the grave. York. 'Befeech your majefty, impute his words

Το

2 Thus ftands thefe lines in all the copies, but I think there is an error. Why should Gaunt, already old, call on any thing like age to end him? How can age be faid to crop at once? How is the idea of crookedness connected with that of cropping? I fuppofe the poet dictated thus: And thy unkindness be time's crooked edge

To crop at once

That is, let thy unkindness be time's scythe to crop.

Edge was eafily confounded by the ear with age, and one miftake once admitted made way for another. JoHNSON.

Shakspeare, I believe, took this idea from the figure of Time, who was reprefented as carrying a fickle as well as a fcythe. A fickle was an ciently called a crook, and fometimes, as in the following inftances, Crooked may mean armed with a crook. MALONE.

Shakspeare had probably two different but kindred ideas in his mind; the bend of age, and the fickle of time, which he confounded together. M. MASON

3 That is, let them love. JOHNSON.

To wayward ficklinefs and age in him:

He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here.

K. Rich. Right; you fay true: as Hereford's love, fo his: As theirs, fo mine; and all be as it is.

Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.4

North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majefty.

K. Rich. What says he now?

North.
Nay, nothing; all is faid:
His tongue is now a ftringless instrument;
Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt fo!
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe.

K. Rich. The ripeft fruit firft falls, and fo doth he;
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be: 5
So much for that.- Now for our Irish wars:
We muft fupplant those rough rug-headed kerns C
Which live like venom, where no venom elfe,"
But only they, hath privilege to live.

And, for thefe great affairs do afk fome charge,
Towards our affiftance, we do feize to us
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did ftand poffefs'd.

York. How long thall I be patient? Ah, how long
Shall tender duty make me fuffer wrong?

Not Glofter's death, nor Hereford's banishment,
Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs,
Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
About his marriage, nor my own difgrace,

Henry Percy, Earl of Northumberland.

WALPOLE.

5 That is, our pilgrimage is yet to come. M. MASON.

Have

This alludes to a tradition that St. Patrick freed the kingdom of IreJand from venomous reptiles of every kind. STEEVENS.

7 When the duke of Hereford, after his banishment, went into France, he was honourably entertained at that court, and would have obtained in marriage the only daughter of the duke of Berry, uncle to the French king, had not Richard prevented the match, STEVENS 1. boons

t

Have ever made me four my patient cheek,
Or bend one wrinkle on my fovereign's face.--
I am the laft of noble Edward's fons,

8

Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first;
In war was never lion rag'd more fierce,
In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
Than was that young and princely gentleman:
His face thou haft, for even fo look'd he,
Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
But, when he frown'd, it was against the French,
And not against his friends: his noble hand
Did win what he did fpend, and spent not that
Which his triumphant father's hand had won:
His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood,
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.
O, Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Or elfe he never would compare between.
K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter?
York.

O, my liege,

Pardon me, if you please; if not, I pleas'd
Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.
Seek you to feize, and gripe into your hands,
The royalties and rights of banifh'd Hereford ?
Is not Gaunt dead ? and doth not Hereford live?
Was not Gaunt juft? and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deferve to have an heir?

Is not his heir a well-deferving fon?

Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time
His charters, and his cuftomary rights;
Let not tomorrow then enfue to-day;
Be not thy felf, for how art thou a king,
But by fair fequence and fucceffion?
Now, afore God (God forbid, I fay true!)
If you do wrongfully feize Hereford's rights,
Call in the letters patents that he hath
By his attornies-general to fue

His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,?

8 i. e. when he was of thy age. MALONE.

You

9 That is, refufe to admit the bomage, by which he is to hold his lands. JOHNSON.

You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
You lofe a thousand well-difpofed hearts,
And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.

K. Rich. Think what you will; we feize into our hands His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.

York. I'll not be by, the while: My liege, farewell: What will enfue hereof, there's none can tell ;

But by bad courses may be understood,

That their events can never fall out good.

[Exite

K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire ftraight;

Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,

To fee this bufinefs: To-morrow next
We will for Ireland; and 'tis time, I trow;
And we create, in abfence of ourself,
Our uncle York lord governor of England,
For he is juft, and always lov'd us well.-
Come on, our queen: to-morrow muft we part;
Be merry, for our time of itay is fhort.

-

[Flourish.

[Exeunt King, Queen, BUSHY, AUMERLE,
GREEN, and BAGOT.

North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is dead.
Rof. And living too; for now his fon is duke.
Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.

North. Richly in both, if justice had her right.

Rof. My heart is great; but it muft break with filence, Ere't be difburden'd with a liberal tongue.

North. Nay, fpeak thy mind; and let him ne'er fpeak

more,

That fpeaks thy words again, to do thee harm!

Willo. Tends that thou'dft 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.

Roff. 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,

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, 'gainft any of us all,
That will the king feverely profecute

'Gainft us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
Roff. The commons hath he pill'd with grievous taxes,
And loft their hearts: the nobles hath he 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. Wars have not wafted it, for warr'd he hath not,
But bafely yielded upon compromise

That which his ancestors achiev'd with blows:
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars.

Rof. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
Wille. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.
North. Reproach, and diffolution, hangeth over him.
Rof. He hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burdenous taxations notwithstanding,
But by the robbing of the banish'd duke.

North. His noble kinfman :-Moft degenerate king!
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempeft 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.3

Raff. We fee the very wreck that we must fuffer; And unavoided is the danger 4 now,

For fuffering fo the caufes of our wreck.

North. Not fo; even through the hollow eyes of death,

I fpy life peering; but I dare not fay

How near the tidings of our comfort is.

Willo. Nay, let us fhare thy thoughts, as thou doft ours. Roff. Be confident to fpeak, Northumberland:

We three are but thyfelf; and, fpeaking fo,

Thy

2 To ftrike the fails, is, to contract them when there is too much wind.

JOHNSON.

3 We perish by too great confidence in our fecurity. MALONE. + Unavoided is, I believe, here used for unaviodable. MALONE.

a i.c. plundered - for the frenchi hiller perfohnson's dict.