to his Designs forbear to draw such Dangers on your Head King Be Heav'n our judge we mean him nothing fowl But shortly will with interest restore The Loan our sudden streights make necessary Weep not my Love nor drown with boding Tears Our springing Conquest bear our absence well Nor think that I have joy to part with Thee Tho never vacant Swain in silent Bowers Cou'd boast a passion so sincere as mine Yet where the int'rest of the Subject calls We wave the dearest Transports of our Love Flying from Beauty ' Arms to rugged War Conscience our first and Thou our second Care Exeunt Manent Morthumberland Piercy Ross Willoughby North. Well Lords the Duke of Lancaster is dead Will. And living too if Justice had her right For Herford then were more than a bare Name Who now succeeds departed Gaunt in nothing But in his mind 's rich Virtues the Kings pleas'd To have occasion for his temporal wealth O my heart swells but let it burst with silence Ere it be disburden'd with a liberal tongue Perc. Now rot the tongue that scants a Subjects freedom Loosers at least are priviledgd to talk And who accounts not Herfords looss his own Deserves not the esteem of Herford's friend There 's none of us here present but did weep At parting and if there be any one Whose tears are not converted now to sire He is a Crocadile North. The fate of Bullingbrook will soon be ours We hear the Tempest sing yet seek no shelter We see our wreck and yet securely perish A sure but willful Fate for had ye Spirits But worthy to receive it I cou'd say How near the tidings of our comfort is Pierc Give us thy thoughts and rate 'em as thou wilt Here 's Blood for 'em but point us to the veins That hold the richest we will empty those To purchase ' em North. Hold generous Youth This gallantry unlocks my inmost Brest Seizing a secret dearer than my heart Attend me Lords I have from Port le Blanc This very day receiv'd intelligence That our wrong'd Herford with Lord Rainold Cobham Sir Thomas Arpingham bold Sir John Rainston Sir Robert Waterton Quaint Norbery With eight tall Ships three thousand men in Arms Design with speed to touch our Northern shore If then you have a spark of British glory To imp our drooping Countries broken Wing Joyn hands with me and post to Ravenspurg Ross Now business stirs and life is worth our while Will. Nature her self of late hath broke her Order Then why should we continue our dull Round Rivers themselves refuse their wonted course Start wide or turn on their own Fountain heads Our Lawrels all are blasted rambling Meteors Affright the fixst inhabitants of Heav'n The pale fac't Moon looks bloody on the Earth And lean-lookt Prophets whisper dreadful change Pierc Away let 's post to th' North and see for once A Sun rise there the glorious Bulling-brook For our Return will not pass a thought For if our Courtiers passage be withstood We 'll make our selves a Sea and sail in Blood Exeunt Enter Queen Attended Lady Despair not Madam Queen Who shall hinder me I will despair and be at enmity With flattering hope he is a Couzener A Parasite a keeper back of Death That wou'd dissolve at once our pain and Life Which lingring hope holds long upon the Rack Yet Murders at the last the cruel'st way Lady Here comes the Duke Enter York and Servants Queen With signs of War about his aged neck And full of careful business are his looks York Death and confusion oh set my Corsleet right fetch my commanding Sword scour up the brown Bills Arm Arm Arm. Queen Now Uncle for Heav'ns sake speak comfort York Comforts in Heav'n and we are on the Earth nothing but crosses on this side of the Moon my heart stews in Choller I shall dissolve to a Gelly That your Husband shou'd have no more wit than to go a Knight Erranting whilst Rogues seize all at home and that I shou'd have no more wit than to be his Deputy at such a proper time to undertake to support a crazy Government that can scarce carry my own Fat Well Sirrah have you given my Son orders to strengthen his Forces if he prove a Flincher too Gent. My Lord I know not how he stands affected Not well I fear because at my Arrival He was withdrawn at least pretended so So that I cou'd not give him your Commands York Why so go all which way it will the Nobles are all fled and hide themselves like my ungracious Rascal or else strike in with the Rebels the Commons find our Exchequer empty and revolt too and a blessed bargain I have on 't Queen Alass my Bank and Jewels are dispos'd off For the Kings wants already and to wait Till fresh recruits come from our Fathers Court I fear will lose our Cause York Get thee to Plashy to my Sister Gloster Her Coffers I am sure are strongly lin'd Bid her send me presently 50000. Nobles Hold take my Ring fly if thou lov'st thy Head Gent. My Lord I had forgot to tell you that to day Passing by there I was inform'd But I shall grieve you to report the rest York What is 't Knave Gent. An hour before I came the Dutches Dy'd Her Son your Nephew ere her Blood was cold Makes all secure and flies to Bullingbrook York Death what a tide of woes break upon us at once Perverse Woman to take this time to Die in and the varlet her Son too to take this time to play the villain in wou'd to Heav'n the King had cut off my Head as he did my Brothers Come Sister Couzen I would say pray Pardon me if I know how to order thefe perplext Affairs I am a Sturgeon Gentlemen go Muster up your Men and meet me at Barkley Castle I should to Plashie too but time will not suffer the Wind 's cross too and will let us hear nothing from Ireland nor boots it much if they have no better News for us than we have for them All 's wrong Oh! fie hot hot Exeunt SCENE the Third The Field Flourish Enter Bullingbrook Northumberland Piercy and the Rest with their Powers Bull. And thus like Seamen scatter'd in a Storm Meet we to Revel on the safer Shore Accept my worthy Friends my dearest thanks For yet my Infant Fortunes can present Returns no Richer but when these are Ripe North. Your Presence was the Happiness we sigh'd for And now made Rich in that we seek no more Enter Ross and Willoughby Bull. My Lords y' are well return'd what News from Wales We hear that Salisbury has Levi'd there Full 40000 on the Kings behalf Ross My Lord that Cloud 's disperst the Welshmen hearing That all the North here had resign'd to you Disperst themselves and part are hither fled Will. Fortune so Labours to Confirm your Pow'r That all Attempts go cross on the Enemies side Enter York and Servants Bull. But see our
shall prove it true That Mow-bray has receiv'd eight thousand Nobles In Name of Lendings for your Highness Service All which for lew'd Employments he detains Like a false Traytor and injurious Villain Besides I say and will in Combate prove That all the Treasons Plots Conspiracies Hatcht for these eighteen years within this Realm Fetcht from false Mowbray their first Spring and Head Farther I say and on his Heart will prove it That he did Plot the Duke of Gloster's Death Whose Martial Ghost to me for Vengeance cryes And by the glorious Worth of my Descent This Arm shall give it or this Blood be spent King How high a Pitch his Resolution Soars Thomas of Norfolk what say'st thou to this Mow. O let my Sov'raign turn away his Face And bid his Ear a little while be Deaf Till I have told this slander of his Blood How Heav'n and good men hate so foul a Lyar. King Now by our Sceptres Awe I tell thee Mowbray Were he my Brother nay my Kingdoms Heir Our Blood shou'd nothing priviledge him nor bend Our upright Soul from Justice Mow. Then Bulling-brook as low as to thy Heart Thou ly'st Three parts of my Receits for Callice I have disburst amongst his Highness Souldiers The Rest I by the King's consent reserv'd Upon remainder of a dear Account Since last I went to fetch the Queen from France First swallow down that Lye for Gloster's Death I slew him not but rather to my fault Neglected my Sworn Duty in that Case Compassion being here all my Offence And for the rest of thy perfidious Charge It Issues from the rancour of a Villain The flowing Gall of a degenerate Traytor In proof of which I summon thee to Combate Beseeching of his Majesty the Grace To my wrong'd Fame t' appoint our Tryal-day Where Herford's Blood shall for his slanders pay And wash the Poyson of his Tongue away King Rash men thus long we have giv'n you the hearing Now let the pleasure of your King be heard And know our Wisdom shall prescribe a way To purge this Choller without letting Blood Forget forgive conclude and be agreed Gaunt see this difference end where it begun Wee 'l calm the Duke of Norfolk you your Son Gaunt To be a Peace-maker becomes my Age Throw down my Son the Duke of Norfolk's Gage King And Norfolk throw down his Gaunt When Harry when Obedience bids I shou'd not bid again King Will Norfolk when the King commands be slow Mow. My self dread Sov'raign at your feet I throw My Life you may command but not my Shame I cannot give nor will you ask my Fame I am Impeacht disgrac't before my King Pierc't to the Soul with Slanders Venom'd Sting Incurable but by the Traytor 's Blood That breath'd the Poyson King Rage must be withstood Give me his Gage Lyons make Leopards tame Mow. Yes but not change their Spots take but my shame And I resign my Gage my dear dread Lord The purest Treasure Mortal times afford Is spotless honour take but that away Men are but guilded Loam and painted Clay King Cousin throw down his Gage do you begin Bull. Just Heav'n defend me from so foul a sin Condemn not Sir your Blood to such disgrace Shall I seem brav'd before my Father's Face No Royal Sir ere my Blaspheaming Tongue Shall do my Loyalty so foul a wrong Or sound so base a Parle by th' Roots I 'le tear The slavish Herrald of so vile a fear And spit it bleeding where the worst disgrace And slanders harbour ev'n in Mowbray's face King Now by my Scepter you have wak't my spleen And since we sue in vain to make ye friends Prepare to meet before us in the Lists You shall and he that bauk's the Combat dies Behold me give your head-long fury Scope Each to chastise the others guilty Pride What Council cannot let the Sword decide Exeunt SCENE the Second Enter Dutchess of Glocester in Mourning Dutch How slow alas the hours of Sorrow fly Whose Wings are dampt with Tears my dear dear Gloster I have more than a Widdows loss to mourn She but laments a Death but I a Murder Enter Gaunt Gaunt When Sister will you find the way to comfort Dutch When Gaunt has found the way to Vengeance Comfort Before that hour were Guilty Edwards seven Sons whereof thy self art one Where as seven Viols of his sacred Blood Or seven fair Branches springing from one Stock Some of those Streams by natures course are dry'd Some of those Branches by the Destinies cut But Thomas my dear Lord my Life my Gloster One flourishing Branch of that most Royal Stem Is hew'd and all his verdant Leaves disperst By envies hand and Murders bloody Axe Gaunt Sister the part I have in Gloster's Blood Do's more sollicite me than your exclaims To stir against the Butchers of his life But since Revenge is Heav'ns Prerogative Put we our Quarrel to the will of Heav'n Enter York York Save ye Sister very hot oh hot weather and hot work come Brother the Lists are ready the Fight will be worth the while besides your concern there is somewhat more than ordinary I'faith now I cou'd be content to have Harry scape but for all that I wou'd have the Traytor die Gaunt Cou'd my impartial eye but find him such Fell Mow-bray's Sword should come to late Dutch Where shall my Sorrows make their last complaint If York deny me too York What wou'd our Sister Dutch Revenge and speedy for my Glosters death York Why there 't is Revenge ho a fine morsel for a Lady fasting Gloster was my Brother true but Gloster was a Traytor and that 's true too I hate a Traytor more than I love a Brother Dutch A Traytor York York 'T is somewhat a course name for a Kinsman but yet to my thinking to raise an Army execute Subjects threaten the King himself and reduce him to answer particulars has a very strong smatch with it go too you are in fault your complaints are guilty your very Tears are Treason No remedy but Patience Dutch Call it not patience York 't is cold despair In suffering thus your Brother to be slaughter'd You shew the naked path to your own Lives Ah! had his fate been yours my Gloster wou'd Have set a Nobler Prince upon your Lives York This Air grows infectious will you go Brother Dutch But one word more grief ever was a Talker But I will teach him silence of you both I take eternal leave Comforts wait on you When I am laid in Earth to some dark Cell Will I betake me where this weary Life Shall with the taper waste there shall I greet No Visitant but Death adieu my Lords If this Farewell your Patience has abus'd Think 't was my last and let it be excus'd Exeunt SCENE the Third A Pavilion of State before the Lists Marshal and Aumerle from several Entrances Marsh My Lord Aumerle is Harry Herford arm'd Aum. Yes at all points and longs to enter
in Marsh The Duke of Norfolk sprightfully and bold Waits but the Summons of the Appealants Trumpet But see the King Flourish Enter King Queen attended Gaunt York Pierce Northumberland c. who place themselves to view the Combat Mowbray brought in by a Herald King Marshal demand of yonder Combatant Why he comes here and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause Marsh In the Kings name say who thou art and what 's thy Quarrel Speak truly on thy Knighthood and thy Oath So Heav'n defend thee and thy Valour Mow. Hither is Mowbray come upon his Oath To justifie his Loyalty and truth Against false Bullingbrook that has appeal'd me And as I truly fight defend me Heav'n Trumpet again Bullingbrook and Herald King Demand of yonder Knight why he comes here And formally according to our Law Depose him in the justice of his Cause Marsh Thy name and wherefore thou art hither come Before King Richard in his Royal Lists Speak like a true Knight so defend thee Heav'n Bull. Harry of Herford Lancaster and Derby Stands here in Arms to prove on Thomas Mowbray That he 's a Traytor to the King and State And as I truly fight defend me Heav'n But first Lord Marshal I entreat the Grace To kiss my Soveraigns hand and do him homage For Mowbray and my self are like to men That vow along and weary Pilgrimage Therefore shou'd take a ceremonious leave And tender farewel of our several Friends Marsh Th'Appealant in all duly greets your Highness Craving to kiss your hand and take his leave King We will descend and fould him in our Arms Now Cousin as thy Cause is just So be thy Fortune in this Royal Fight Farewel my Blood which if thou chance to shed Lament we may but not revenge the dead Bull. No noble eye be seen to loose a Tear On me if I be foil'd by Mowbrays Arm As confident as is the Faulcon's flight At tim'rous Birds do I with Mowbray fight O thou the gen'rous Author of my Blood To Gaunt Whose youthful Spirit enflames and lifts me up To reach at Victory above my Head Add proof to this my Armour with thy Pray'rs And with thy Blessings point my vengeful Sword To furbish new th' illustrious name of Gaunt Mow. However Heaven or Fortune cast my Lot There lives or dies a just and loyal man Never did wretched Captive greet the hour Of freedom with more welcome or delight Than my transported soul do's celebrate This Feast of battle Blessings on my King And peace on all King Farewell my Lord Virtue and Valour guard thee Marshal finish Marsh Harry of Herford Lancaster and Derby Receive thy Sword and Heav'n defend thy Right Fear this to Mowbray Mow. Curse on your tedious Ceremonies more To us tormenting then t'expecting Bridegrooms The signal for Heav'ns sake Marsh Sound Trumpets and set forward Combatants Stay stay the King has thrown his Warder down King Command the Knights once more back to their Posts And let the Trumpets sound a second charge Whilst with our Lords we briefly do advise Another flourish after which the King speaks Command 'em to resigne their Arms and listen To what we with our Council have Decreed For that our Eyes detest the spectacle Of Civil Wounds from whence the dire infection Of general War may spring we bar your Combat Suppress those Arms that from our Coast wou'd fright Fair Peace and make us wade in Kinsmen's Blood And lest your Neighbour-hood cause after-broils We banish you our Realms to different Climes You Bullingbrook on pain of Death Till twice five Summers have enircht our Fields Bull. And must this be your Pleasure well Your pleasure stand 't will be my comfort still The Sun that warms you here shall shine on me And guild my Banishment King Mowbray for thee remains a heavier doom The slow succeeding hours shall not determine The dateless limit of thy dear exile The hopeless word of never to return Breath we against thee upon pain of Death Mow. A heavy Sentence my most Sov'raign Lord The Language I have learnt these Forty years My native English must I now forgo I am too old to fawn upon a Nurse And learn the Prattle of a forraign tongue What is thy Sentence then but speechless Death You take the cruelst way to rob my Breath King Complaint comes all too late where we decree Mow. Then thus I turn me from my Countries light Pleas'd with my doom because it pleas'd the King Farewell my Lord now Mowbray cannot stray Let me shun England all the worlds my way King Return again and take an Oath with thee Lay on our Royal Sword your banisht Hands Swear by the duty that you owe to Heav'n Nere to embrace each others love in Banishment Nor ever meet nor write to reconcile This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate Nor Plot to turn the edge of your Revenge On Us our State our Subjects and our Land Bull. I Swear Mow. And I to keep all this Bull. By this time Mowbray had the King permitted One of our Souls had wandered in the Air As now our flesh is doomd on Earth to wander Confess thy Treason ere thou fly the Land Since thou hast far to go bear not along Th'incumbring Burden of a guilty Soul Mow. No Bullingbrook if ever I were false Let Heav'n renounce me as my Country has But what thou art Heav'n Thou and I do know And all my heart forbodes too soon shall rue My absence then shall yet this comfort bring Not to behold the Troubles of my King Exit King Uncle within thy tear-charg'd Eyes I read Thy hearts fell sorrow and that troubled Look Has from the number of his Banisht years Pluckt four away Six frozen Winters spent Return with welcome from thy Banishment Gaunt I thank my Liege that in regard to me He cuts off four years from my Sons exile But small advantage shall I reap thereby For ere those slow six years can change their Moons My inch of Taper will be spent and done Nor Gaunt have life to welcom home his Son King Despair not Uncle you have long to live Gaunt But not a Minute King that thou canst give King Thy Son was banisht upon advice To which thy Tongue a party Verdict gave Gaunt My interest I submitted to your Will You urg'd me like a Judge and I forgot A Father's Name and like a strict Judge doom'd Him Alas I look'd when some of you should say I was too strict to make my Own away But all gave leave to my unwilling Tongue To do my ag'd heart this unnatural wrong King Now for the Rebels that hold out in Ireland And turn our mild forbearance to contempt Fresh forces must be levi'd with best speed Ere farther leisure yield them further strength We will our self in person to this War And quench this flame before it spread too far Ex. with Attendants Gaunt O to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words When thou