NORTH. Now, afore God! 'tis shame such wrongs are borne,

In him a royal prince, and many more
Of noble blood in this declining land.
The king is not himself, but basely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
That will the king severely prosecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
Ross. The commons hath he pill'd with
grievous taxes,

a

And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fin'd For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.

WILLO. And daily new exactions are devis'dAs-blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what; But what, o' God's name, doth become of this? NORTH. Wars hath not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not,

But basely yielded upon compromise

That which his noble ancestors achiev'd with blows:

More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.

WILLO. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.

NORTH. Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.

Ross. He hath not money for these Irish wars, (His burthenous taxations notwithstanding,) But by the robbing of the banish'd duke—

NORTH. His noble kinsman; Most degenerate king!

But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm;
We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
And yet we strike not, but securely perish.

Ross. We see the very wreck that we must
suffer;

And unavoided is the danger now,

For suffering so the causes of our wreck.

I

NORTH. Not so: even through the hollow eyes of death,

Spy life peering; but I dare not say, How near the tidings of our comfort is.

WILLO. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours.

a Hath he pill'd-] That is, robbed, pillaged; from the French, piller.

b But securely perish.] Securely, in this place, as in other instances, is used in the sense of care essly, over-confidently, foolhardily. Thus, in the Merry Wives of Windsor," Act II. Sc. 2: "She dwells so securely on the excellency of her honour;" and in the same play, Act II. Sc. 2:-" Page is an ass, a secure ass."

e Thy words are but as thoughts;] Mr. Collier's annotator would read "our thoughts,"--an unhappy conjecture; for if they knew the intelligence Northumberland possessed, why need he impart it? The meaning is obviously, "We are all leagued together, and whatever you speak will be as safe in our keeping

Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland:
We three are but thyself, and, speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold.
NORTH. Then thus:-I have from Port le
Blanc,

A bay in Brittany, receiv'd intelligence
That Harry duke of Hereford, Reignold lord
Cobham,

That late broke from the duke of Exeter,
His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Ramston;
Sir John Norbery, sir Robert Waterton, and
Francis Quoint,-

All these, well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne,
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:(3)
Perhaps, they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre'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 secret, and myself will go.

Ross. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear.

WILLO. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there. [Exeunt.

d That late broke from the duke of Exeter,-] There is a lacuna here. It was Thomas, the earl of Arundel's son, who was in custody of the duke of Exeter. (See Holinshed, under the year 1399.) Malone therefore inserted the following line to perfect the sense:

["The son of Richard, earl of Arundel."]

• Impout our drooping country's broken wing,—] To imp is an expression borrowed from falconry, and means, to supply or repair any wing-feathers of a hawk, which had fallen out or were broken. It is supposed to come from the Saxon impan, to grafi or inoculate.

As my sweet Richard. Yet, again, methinks,
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming towards me; and my inward soul
With nothing trembles: at something it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king.

BUSHY. Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows,

Which shows like grief itself, but is not so:
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire, to many objects,
Like perspectives,(4) which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Show nothing but confusion,-ey'd awry,
Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds shapes of griefs 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,

(*) Old text, Find.

a As-though, in thinking,-] The old copies all read, "on thinking."

More than your lord's departure, weep not; more 's not seen;

Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye,
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary.

QUEEN. It may be so; but yet my inward soul
Persuades me it is otherwise: howe'er it be,
I cannot but be sad; so heavy-sad,
As-though, in thinking, on no thought I think-
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.
BUSHY. "T is nothing but conceit," my gracious

lady.

QUEEN. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still deriv'd

From some forefather grief, mine is not so;
For nothing hath begot my something grief,
Or something hath, the nothing that I grieve;
'Tis in reversion that I do possess ;

(*) First folio, weep.

b'Tis nothing but conceit,-] Imagination, fanciful cen. ception.

And driven into despair an enemy's hope,
Who strongly hath set footing in this land:
The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
And with uplifted arms is safe arriv'd
At Ravenspurg.

worse,

QUEEN. Now God in heaven forbid! GREEN. O, madam, 't is too true; and, that is [Percy, The lord Northumberland, his son, young + Henry The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. BUSHY. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland

And all the rest of the revolted faction, traitors?
GREEN. We have: whereupon the earl of
Worcester

Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
And all the household servants fled with him,
To Bolingbroke.

[my woe,

QUEEN. So, Green, thou art the midwife to § 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.

O, full of careful business are his looks!
Uncle, for God'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, cares,† and grief.
Your husband he is gone to save far off,
Whilst others come to make him lose at home:
Here am I left to underprop his land,
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

came.

YORK. He was?-Why, so!-go all which way it will!

The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.— Sirrah, get thee to Plashy, to my sister Glou

cester;

Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:
Hold, take my ring.

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

To-day, as I came by, I called there; b
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 a tide 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'd him to it,)
The king had cut off my head with my brother's.-
What, are there no posts despatch'd for Ireland?-
How shall we do for money for these wars?—
Come, sister, cousin, I would say: pray, pardon

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 disorderly thrust into my hands,
Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;-
The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend; the other again

So my untruth-] That is, faithlessness, disloyalty.

d If I know how, or which way,-] The redundant, or which way, I have always suspected to be an interlineation of the poet's, who had not decided whether to read, "how to order these affairs," or, "which way to order."

Is my kinsman, 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:-Gentlemen, 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 everything 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 levy power,
Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all unpossible.*

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
condemn'd.

BAGOT. If judgment 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.

[office

a And hope to joy,-] To joy is used here as to enjoy.

I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire.
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 company;
Which, I protest, hath very much beguil'd
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweetened 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?

But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg,
To offer service to the duke of Hereford;
And sent me over by Berkley, to discover
What power the duke of York had levied there;
Then with directions 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,

Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young;

Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm
To more approved service and desert.

BOLING. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be

sure,

I count myself in nothing else so happy,
As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends;
And as my fortune ripens with thy love,
It shall be still thy true love's recompense:

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 stands 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 Seymour,

None else of name and noble estimate.

Enter YORK, attended.

BOLING. I shall not need transport my words by you;

Here comes his grace in person.-My_noble uncle! [Kneels.

YORK. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee,

Whose duty is deceivable and false.

BOLING. My gracious uncle!
YORK. Tut, tut!

Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle.*
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word, grace,
In an ungracious mouth, is but profane.
Why have these banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground?
But then more† why;-why have they dar'd to
march

So many miles upon her peaceful bosom,
Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,
And ostentation of despised arms?

Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,
And in my loyal bosom lies his power.
Were I but now the lord of such hot youth
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,
Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of

BOLING. My gracious uncle, let me know my On what condition stands it, and wherein?

YORK. Even in condition of the worst degree,In gross rebellion, and detested treason: Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come, Before the expiration of thy time,

In braving arms against thy sovereign.

BOLING. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd
Hereford:

But as I come, I come for Lancaster.
And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent d eye:
You are my father, for methinks in you