haue â—â—â—g thâ—ed howers And added yeares to his short banishment He should haue had a volume of farewels But since it would not he had none of me King He is our Coosens Coosin but tis doubt When time shall call him home from banishment Whether our kinsman come to see his friends Our selfe and Bushie Obserued his courtship to the common people How he did seeme to diue into their harts With humble and familiar courtesie What reuerence he did throw away on slaues Wooing poore craftsmen with the craft of smiles And patient vnder-bearing of his fortune As twere to baâ—ish their affects with him Off goes his bonnet to an oysterwench A brace of draimen bid God speed him wel And had the tribute of his supple knee With thankes my countreymen my louing friendes As were our England in reuersion his And he our subiects next degree in hope Greene. Wel he is gone and with him go these thoughts Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland Expedâ—enâ— mannage must be made my liege Ere further leysure yeeld them further meanes For their aduantage and your highnes losse King VVe will our selfe in person to this warre And for our coffers with too great a court And liberall larges are growen somewhat light VVe are inforst to farm our royall Realme The reuenew whereof shall furnish vs For our affaires in hand if that come short Our substitutes at home shall haâ—e blanke charters Whereto when they shal know what men are rich They shal subscribe them for large summeâ— of gold And send them after to supply our wants For we will make for Ireland presently Enter Bushie with newes Bush. Olde Iohn of Gaunt is grieuous sicke my Lord Sodainely taken and hath sent post haste To intreate your Maiestie to visite him King Where lies he Bush. At Ely house King Now put it God in the Physitions mind To help him to his graue immediaâ—ly The liâ—ing of his coffers shall make coates To decke our souldiers for these Irish warres Come gentlemen lets all go visite him Pray God we may make haste and come too late Amen Exeunt Enter Iohn of Gaunt sicke with the duke of Yorke c. Gaunt Wil the King come that I may breathe my last In holsome counsell to his vnstaied youth Yorkâ— Vex not your selfe nor striue not with your breath For all in vaine comes counsell to his â—are Gaunt Oh but they say the tongues of dying men Inforce attention like deepe â—â—rmony Where words are scarce they are seldome spent in vaine For they breathe truth that breathe their wordes in paine He that no more must say is listened more Than they whom youth and ease haue taught to glose More are mens ends markt than their liues before The setting Sunne and Musike at the close As the last taste of sweetes is sweetest last Writ in remembrance more than things long past Though Richard my liues counsell would not heare My deaths sad tale may yet vndeaâ—e his eaâ—e Yorke No it is stopt with other flattering foundes As praises of whâ—se taste the wise are found Lasciuious meeterâ— to whose venome sound The open eare of youth doth alwayes listen Report of fashions in proude Italie Whose maners still our tardy apish nation Limps after in base iâ—itation Where doth the world thâ—ust forth a vanitie So it be new theres no respect how vile That is not quickly buzdâ— into his eares Then all too late comes Counsell to be heard Where will doth mutiny with wits regard Direct not him whose way himselfe wil chuse Tis breath thou lackst and that breath wilt thou loose Gaunt Me thinkes I am a prophet new inspirde And thus expiring do foretell of him His rash fierce blaze of ryot cannot last For violent fires soone burne out themselues Small shoures last long but sodaine stormes are short He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes With eagre feeding foode doth choke the feeder Light vanitie insatiate cormorant Consuming meanes soone praies vpon it selfe This royall throne of Kings this sceptred Ile This earth of maiestie this seate of Mars This other Eden demy Paradice This fortresse built by Nature 〈◊〉 her selfe Against infection and the hand of waâ—re This happy breede of men this little woâ—ld This precious stone set in the siluer sea Which serues it in the office of a wall Or as moate defensiue to a house Against the enuie of lesse happier lands This blessed plot this earth this realme this England This nurse this teeming wombe of â—oyall Kings Feard by their breed and famous by theyr byrth Renowned for theyr deedes as far from home For christian seruice and true chiualry As is the sepulchre in stubburne Iewry Of the worlds ransome blessed Maries sonne This land of such deare soules this deere deere land Deare for her reputation through the world Is now leasde out I dye pronouncing it Like to a tenement or pelting Farme England bound in with the triumphant sea Whose rockie shoare beates backe the enuious siege Of watry Neptune is now bound in with shame With iâ—â—kie blots and rotten parchment bonds That Engâ—and that was wont to conquer others Hath made a shamefull conqâ—est of it selfe Ah would the scandall vanish with my life How happy then were my ensuing death Yorke The King is come deale mildely with his youth For young hot colts being ragde do rage the more Enter king and Queene c. Queene How fares our noble vncle Lancaster King What comfort man how â—st with aged Gaunt Gaunt O how that 〈◊〉 befits my composition Old 〈◊〉 indeede and gaunt in being olde With 〈◊〉 Griefe hath kept a tedious fast And who abâ—taines froâ—â—neate that is not gaunt For sleeping England long time haue I watcht Watching breedes leanenesse leanenesse is all gaunt The pleasure that some fathers feede vpon Is my strict fast I meane my childrens lookes And therein fasting hast thou made me gaunt Gaunt am I for the graue gaunt as a graue Whose hollow wombe inherites naught but bones King Can sicke men play so nicely with their names Gaunt No misery makes sport to mocke it selfe Since thou dost seeke to kill my name in me I mocke my name great King to flatter thee King Should dying men flatter with those that liue Gaunt No no men liuing flatter those that die King Thou now a dying sayest thou flatterest me Gaunt Oh no thou diest though I the â—icker be King I am in health I breathe and see thee ill Gaunt Now he that made me knowes I see thee ill Ill in my selfe to see and in thee seeing ill Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land Wherein thou liest in reputation sicke And thou too carelesse pacient as thou art Commitst thy annoynted body to the cure Of those Physitions that first wounded thee A thousand flatterers sit within thy Crowne Whose compasse is no bigger than thy head And yet inraged in so small a verge The waste is no whit lesser than thy land Oh had thy grandâ—ire with a
THE Tragedie of King Richard the second As it hath beene publikely acted by the right Honourable the Lorde Chamberlaine his Seruants LONDON Printed by Valentine Simmes for Androw Wise and are to be sold at his shop in Paules church yard at the signe of the Angel 1597. ENTER KING RICHARD IOHN OF GAVNT WITH OTHER Nobles and attendants King Richard OVld Iohn of Gaunt time honoured Lancaster Hast thou according to thy oath and bande Brought hither Henrie Herford thy bolde sonne Here to make good the boistroâ—â—â—ate appeale Which then our leysure would not let vs heare Against the Duke of Norfolke Thomas Moubray Gaunt I haue my Leige King Tell me moreouer hast thou sounded him If he appeale the Duke on ancient malice Or worthâ—â—y as a good subiect should On some knowne ground of treacherie in him Gaunt As neere as I could sift hiâ— on that argument On some appaâ—ent daunger seene in him Aimde at your highnes no inueterate malice King Then call them to our presence face to face And frowning brow to brow our selues will heare The accuser and the accused freely speake High stomackt are they both and full of ire In rage deafe as the sea hastie as fire Enter Bullingbrooke and Mowbray Bulling Manie yeares of happie daies be fall My gratious soueraigne my most louing liege Moâ—â— Each day still better others happines Vntill the heauens enuying earths good hap Adde an immortall title to your Crowne King We thâ—nke you both yet one but flatters vs As well appeareth by the cause you come Namely to appeale each other of high treason Coosin of 〈◊〉 what dost thou obiect Against the Duke of Norffolke Thomas Mowbray Bull. First heauen be the record to my speech In the deuotion of a subiects loue Tendring the pretious safetie of my Prince And free from other misbegotten hate Come I appellant to this princely presence Now Thomas Mowbray do I turâ—â— to thee And marke my greeting well for what I speake My body shall make good vpon this earth Or my diuine soâ—le answer it in heauen Thou art a traitour and a miscreant Too good to be so and too bad to liue Since the more faire and cristall is the skie The vglier seeme the cloudes that in it flâ—e Once more the more to aggrauate the note With a foule traâ—tors name stuffe I thy throte And wish so please my Soueraigne ere I moue What my tong speaks my right drawen sword may prouâ— Mow. Let not my cold wordes here accuse my zeale Tis not the triall of a womans warre The bitter clamour of two eger tongues Can arbitrate this cause betwixt vs twaine The bloud is hote that must be coold for this Yet can I not of such tame patience boast As to be huisht and naught at all to say First the faire reuerence of your Highnesse curbs me From giuing reines and spurtes to my free speech Which else would post vntill it had â—eturnd These termes of treasoâ— doubled downe his throat Setting aside his high blouds royaltie And let him be no kinsman to my Liege I do defie him and I spit at him Call him a slaunderous coward and a villaine Which to maintaine I would allow him ods And meete him were I tied to runne afoote Euen to the frozen ridges of the Alpes Or any other ground inhabitable Where ouer Englishman durst set his foote Meane time let this defend my loyaltie By all my hopes most falsly doth he lie Bull. Pale trembling coward there I throw my gage Disclaiming here the kinred of the King And lay aside my high bloudes royaltie Which Feare not Reuerence makes thee to except If guilty dread haue left thee so mâ—â—â—ngth As to take vp mine honours pawn◠〈◊〉 stowpe By that and all the rites of Knighthooâ—e else Wâ—ll I make good against thee arme to arme What I haue spoke or thou canst worst deuise Mow. I take it vp and by that sword I sweare Which gently laid my Knighthood on my shoulder Ile answer thee in any faiâ—e degree Oâ— chiualrous designe of knightly triall And when I mount aliue may I not light If I be traitor or vniustly fight King What doth our ccusin lay to Mowbraies charge It must be great that can inherit vs So much as of a thought of ill in him Bul. Looke what I speake my life shall proue it true That Mowbray hath receiude eight thousand nobles In name of Lendings for your Highnes souldiours The which he hath deâ—aind for lewd â—mployments Like a false traitour and iniurious villaine Besides I say and will in battle proue Or here or elsewhere to the furâ—hest Verge That euer was 〈◊〉 by English eye That all the treason for these eighteene yeares Complotted and contriued in this land Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring Further I say and further will maiâ—taine Vpon his bad life to make all this good That he did plotte the Duke of Glocesters death Suggest his soone beleeuing aduersaries And consequently like a taitour coward Slucte out his innocent soule through streames of bloud Which bloud like sacrificing Abels cries Euen from the tounglesse Cauernes of the earth To me for iustice and rough chastisement And by the glorious worth of my descent This arme shall do it or this life be spent King How high a pitch his resolution soares Thomas of Noâ—folk 〈◊〉 saiâ—t thou to this Mowb. Oh let 〈◊〉 raigne turne awaie his face And bid his eares a 〈◊〉 while be deafe Till I haue tolde this slaunder of his bloud How God and good men hate so foule a lier King Mowbray impartiall are our eies and eares Were he my brother nay my kingdomes heire As he is but my fathers brothers sonne Now by scepters awe I make a vowe Such neighbour neerenes to our sacred bloud Should nothing priuiledge him nor partialize The vnstooping firmenesse of my vpright soule He is our subiect Mowbray so art thou Fâ—ee speech and fearelesse I to thee allowe Mowb. Then Bullingbrooke as lowe 〈◊〉 to thy heart Through the false passage of thy throate thou liest Three partes of that receipte I had for Callice Disburst I duely to his highnesse souldiers The other part reserude I by consent For that my soueraâ—gne liege was in my debt Vpon remainder of a deare account Since last I went to France to fetch his Queene Now swallow downe that lie For Glocesters death I slewe him not but to my owne disgrace Neglected my sworne duety in that case For you my noble Lord of Lancaster The honourable father to my foe Once did I lay an ambushe for your life A trespasse that doth vex my grieued soule Ah but ere I last receiude the Sacrament I did confesse it and exactly begd Your graces pardon and I hope I had it This is my fault as for the rest appeald It issues from the rancour of a villaine A recreant and most degenerate traitour Which in my selfe I bodly will defende And enterchangeably hurle downe my gage Vpon this ouer
weening traitors foote To proue my selfe a loyal Gentleman Euen in the best bloud chamberd in his bosome In haste wherof most hartily I pray Your highnes to assigne our triall day King Wrath kindled gentleman be ruled by 〈◊〉 Lets purge this choler without letting bloud This we prescribe though no Phisition Deepe malice makes too deepe incision Forget forgiue conclude and be agreed Our doctors say this is no month to bleede Good Vnckle let this ende where it begonne Weele calme the Duke of Norfolke you your sonne Gaunt To be a make-peace shal become my age Throw downe my soune the Duke of Norfolkes gage King And Norfolke throw downe his Gaunt When Harry 〈◊〉 obedience bids Obedience bids I should not bid againe King Norfolke throw downe we bid there is no boote Mow. My selfe I throw dread soue raigne at thy foote My life thou shalt command but not my shame The one my duety owes 〈…〉 To darke dishâ—â—ours vse thou shalt not haue I am disgraste impeacht and bâ—ffuld heere Pierst to the soule with Slaunders venomd speare The which no balme can cure but his heart bloud Which breathde this poyson King Rage â—ust be withstoode Giue me his gage Lions make Leopards tame Mowb. Yea but not change his spots take but my shame And I resigne my gage my deare deare Lord The purest treasure mortall times afford Is spotlesse Reputation that away Men are but guilded loame or painted clay A iewell in a ten times bard vp chest Is a bold spirit in a loyall breast Mine honour is my life both grow in one Take honour from me and my life is done Then deare my Liege mine honour let me trie In that I liue and for that will I die King Coosin throw vp your gage do you beginne Bull. O God defend my soule from such deepe sinne Shall I seeme Crest-fallen in my fathers sight Or with pale beggar-feare impeach my height Before this out-darde Dastard ere my tong Shall wound my honour with such feeble wrong Or sound so base a parlee my teeth shall teare The slauish motiue of recanting feare And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace Where Shame doth harbour euen in Mowbraies face King We were not borne to sue but to commaund Which since we cannot do to make you friends Be ready as your liues shall answere it At Couentry vpon saint Lamberes day There shall your swords and launces arbitrate The swelling difference of your setled hate Since we cannot atone you we shall see Iustice designe the Victoâ—â—◠〈◊〉 Lord Marshal commaund our Be ready to direct these home allarmes Exit Enter Iohn of Gaunt with the Duchesse of Glocester Gaunt Alas the part I had in Woodstockes bloud Doth more sollicite me than your exclaimes To stirre against the butchers of his life But since correction lieth in those hands Which made the fault that we cannot correct Put we our quarrell to the will of heauen Who when they see the houres ripe on earth Will raine hot vengeance on offenders heads Duchesse Findes brotherhood in thee no sharper spurre Hath loue in thy old bloud no Iruing fire Edwards seuen sonnes whereof thy selfe art one Were as seuen viols of his sacred bloud Or seuen faire branches springing from one rooteâ— Some of those seuen are dried by natures course Some of those branches by the Destinies cut But Thomas my deare Lord my life my Glocester One violl full of Edwards sacred bloud One flourishing branch of his most royall roote Is crackt and all the precious liquor spilt Is hackt downe and his summer leaues all faded By Enuies hand and Murders bloudy axe Ah Gaunt his bloud was thine that bed that womb That mettall that selfe mould that fashioned thee Made him a man and though thou liuest and breathest Yet art thou slaine in him thou doost consent In some large measure to thy fathers death In â—hat thou seest thy wretched brother die Who was the modell of thy fathers life Call it not patience Gaunt it is dispaire In suffrâ—ng thus thy brother to be slaughtred Thou she west the naked path way to thy life Teaching sterne Murder how to butcher thee That which in meane men we intitle Patience Is pale cold Cowardâ—â—e in noble breasts What shall I saie to safegard thine owne life The best way is to venge my Glocesters death Gaunt Gods is the quarrell for Gods substitute His deputy annointed in his sight Hath causd his death the which â—f wrongfully Let heauen reuenge for I may neuer lift An angry arme against his minister Duch. Where then alas may I complaine my selfe Gaunt To God the widdowes Champion and defence Duch. Why then I will fare well olde Gaunt Thou goest to Couentry there to behold Our Coosen Hereford and sell Mowbray fight O set my husbands wronges on Herefords speare That it may enter butcher Mowbraies breast Or if misfortune misse the 〈◊〉 caâ—ier Be Mowbraâ—es sinnes so 〈◊〉 in his bosome That they may breake his 〈◊〉 coursers backe And throw the rider headlong 〈◊〉 listes A caitiue recreant to my Coâ—â—en Heâ—eford Farewell old Gaunt thy some times brothers wife Wâ—th her companion Griefe must end her life Gaunt Sister farewell I must to Couentry Aâ—â—uch good stay with thee as go with me Duch. Yet â—ne word â—ore grieâ—e boundeth where is faâ—â— Not with the empâ—ie hollownes but weighâ— I take my leaue before I haue begone For sorrow endes not when it seemeth done Commend me to thy brother Edmund Yorke Loâ—hâ—s is all nay yet depart not so Though this be al doe not so quickly go I shall remember more Bid him ah what Wâ—â—h all good speede at Plashie visite me Alacke and what shall good olde Yorke there see But empty lodgings and vnfurnisht wals Vnpeopled offices vntrodden stones And what heare there for welcome but my grones Therfore commend me let him not come there To seeke out sorrow that dwels euery where Desolate desolate will I hence and die The last leaue of thee takes my weeping eie Exeunt Enter Lord Marshall and the Duke Aumerle Mar. My Lord 〈◊〉 is Harry Herford 〈◊〉 Aum. Yea at all points and longs to enter in Mar. The Duke of Norfolke sprightfully and bold Staies but the summons of the appellants trumpet Aum Why then the Champions are prepard and stay For nothing but his maiesties approach The trumpets sound and the King enters with his nâ—bles when they are set enter the Duke of Norfolke in armes defendant King Marshall demaunde of yooder Champion The cause of his arriuall here in armes Aâ—ke him his name and orderly proceede To sweare him in the iâ—stice of his cause Mar. In Gods name and the Kings sâ—y who thou art And why thou comâ—st thus knighâ—ly cladan armes Against what man thou comst and what thy quareâ—l Speake truly on thy knighthoode and thy oth As so defend the heauen and thy valour Mow My name is Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke Who hither come ingaged by my oath Which God defende a
Prophets eie Seene how his sonnes sonne should destroy his sonnes From forth thy reach he would haue laid thy shame Deposing thee before thou wert possest Which art possest now to depose thy selfe Why cousin wert thou regent of the world It were a shame to let this land by lease But for thy world enioying but this land Is it not more than shame to shame it so Landlord of England art thou now 〈◊〉 not King Thy state of lawe is bondslaue to the lawe And thou King A lunatike leane-witted foole Presuming on an agues priuâ—ledge Darest with thy frozen admonition Make pale our cheeke chasing the royall bloud With â—urie from his natiue residence Now by my seates right royall maiestie Wert thou not brother to great Edwards sonne This tong that runnes so roundly in thy head Should runne thy head from thy vnreuerent shoulders Gaunt Oh spare me not my brothers Edwards sonne For that I was his father Edwards sonne That bloud already like the Pellican Hast thou tapt out and drunkenly carowst My brother Glocester plaine well meaning soule Whom faire befall in heauen mongst happy soules Maie be a president and witnes good That thou respectst not spilling Edwards bloud Ioine with the present sicknes that I haue And thy vnkindnes be like crooked age To crop at once a too long withered flower Liue in thy shame but die not shame with thee These words hereafter thy tormentors be Convay me to my bed then to my graue Loue they to liue that loue and honour haue Exit King And let them die that age and sullens haue For both hast thou and both become the graue Yorke I doe beseech your Maiesty impute his words To waiward sicklines and age in him He loues you on my life and holdes you deere As Harry Duke of Hereford were he here King Right you say true as Herefords loue so his As theirs so mine and all be as it is North. My liege old Gaunt commends him to your Maiestie King What saies he North. Nay nothing all is said His tongue is now a stringlesse instrument Words life and al old Lancaster hath spent Yorke Be Yorke the next that must be bankrout so Though death be poore it ends a mortall wo. King The ripest fruit first fals and so doth he His time is spent our pilgrimage must be So much for that Now for our Irish wars We must supplant those rough rugheaded kerne Which liue like venome where no venome else But onely they haue priuiledge to liue And for these great affaires do aske some charge Towards our assistance we doe seaze to vs The plate coine reueâ—â—â—es and moueables Whereof our Vnckle Gaunt did stand possest Yorke How long shal I be patient ah how long Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong Not Glocesters death nor Herefords banishment Nor Gauntes robukes not Englands priuate wrongs Nor the preuention or poore Bulling brooke About his mariadge nor my owne disgrace Haue euer made me sower my patient cheeke Or bende one wrinckie on my soueraignes face I am the last of noble Edwards sonnes Of whom thy father Prince of Wales waâ— first In warre was neuer Lyon ragde more fierce In peace was neuer gentle lambe more milde Then was that young and princely Gentleman His face thou hast for euen so lookt he Accomplisht with a number of thy howers But when he frowned it was against the french And not against his friends his noble hand Did win what he did spende and spent not that Which 〈◊〉 triumphant fathers hand had wonâ—e His hands were guilty of no kinâ—ed bloud But bloudie with the enemies of his kinne Oh Richard Yorke is too far gone with griefe Or else he neuer would compare betweene King Why Vnckle whats the matter Yorke Oh my liege pardone me if you please If not I pleasd not to be pardoned am content with all Seeke you to seaze and gripe into your hands The roialties and rights of banisht Hereford Is not Gaunt dead and doth not Here ford liue Was not Gaunt iust and is not Harrie true Did not the one deserue to haue an heire Is not his heire a well deseruing sonne Take Herefordes rightes away and take from time His charters and his cust omarie rightes Let not to morrow then ensue to daâ—e Be not thy selfe For how aâ—t thou a King But by faire sequence and succession Now afore God God forbidde I say true If you doe wrongfully seaze Herefords rightes Call in the letters patents that he hath By his attourneies generall to sue His liuery and deny his offred homage You plucke a thousand dangers on your head You loose a thousand well disposed hearts And pricke my tender patience to those thoughts Which honour and alleageance cannot thinke King Thinke what you wil we cease into our hands His plate his goods his money and his landes Yorke Ile not be by the while my liege farewell What will ensue hereof thers none can tell But by bad courses may be vnderstood That their euents can neuer fall out good Exit King Go Bushie to the Earle of Wiltshire straight Bid him repaire to vs to Ely house To see this buâ—â—nes to morrow next We will for Ireland and tis time I trow And we create in absence of our selfe Our Vnckle Yorke Lord gouernour of England For he is iust and alwaies loued vs well Come on our Queene to morrow must we part Be merry for our time of staie is short Exeunt King and Queene Manet North. North. Well Lords the Duke of Lancaster is dead Rosse And liuing to for now his sonne is Duke Will. Barely in title not in reuenewes North. Richly in both if iustice had her right Rosse My heart is great but it must breake with silence Eart be disburdened with a liberall tongue North. Nay speake thy mind let him nere speake morâ— That speakes thy words againe to doe thee harme Wil. Tends that thou wouldst speake to the Duke of Herford If it be so out with it boldly man Quicke is mine eare to heare of good towards him Rosse No good at all that I can doe for him Vnlessâ— you call it good to pitty him Bereft and gelded of his patrimony North. Now afore God tis shame such wrongs are borne In him a royall Prince and many mo Of noble bloud in this declining land The King is not himselfe but basely led By flatterers and what they will informe Meerely in hate gainst any of vs all That will the King seuerely prosecute Gainst vs our liues our children and our heires Rosse The commons hath he pild with grieâ—ous taxes And quite lost their hearts The nobles hath he finde For ancient quarrels and quite lost their hearts Willo And daily new exactions are deuisde As blanckes beneuolences and I wot not what But what a Gods name doth become of this North. Wars hath not wasted it for warrde he hath not But basely yeeâ—ded vpon compromise That which his noble auncestors atchiued with blowes More hath
detested treason Thou art a banisht man and here art come Before the expiration of thy time In braâ—â—ng armes against thy soueraigne Bull. As I was banisht I was banisht Hereford But as I come I come for Lancaster And noble Vnckâ—e I beseech your grace Looke on my wrongs with an indiffereâ—t eie You are my father for me thinkes in you I see old Gaunt aliue Oh then my father Will you permit that I shall stand condemnd A wandering vagabond my rights and royalties Pluckt from my armes perforce and giuen away To vpstart vnthrifts wherefore was I borne If that my cousin King be King in England It must be granted I am duke of Lancaster You haue a sonne Aumerle my noble cousin Had you first died and he bin thus trod downe He should haue found his vncle Gaunt a father To rowze his wrongs and chase them to the baie I am denyed to sue my Liuery here And yet my leâ—ters paâ—tents giue me leaue My fathers goods are all â—â—strainde and sold And these and all are all amisse employed What would you haue me do I am a subiect And I challenge law Atturnies are denied me And therefore personally I lay my claime To my inheritance of free descent North. The noble Duke hath bin too much abused Rosse It stands your Grace vpon to do him right Willo Base men by his endowments are made great Yorke My Lords of England let me tell you this I haue had feeling of my couâ—ins wrongs And labourd all I could to do him right But in this kind to come in brauing armes Be his owne caruer and cut out his way To finde out right wyth wrong it may not be And you that do abette him in this kinde Cherish rebellion and are rebells all North. The noble Duke hath sworne his comming is But for his owne and for the right of that We al haue strongly sworne to giue him ayde And let him neuer see ioy that breakes that oath Yorke Wel wel I see the issue of these armes I cannot mend it I must needes confesse Because my power is weake and all ill left But if I could by him that gaue me life I would attach you all and make you stoope Vnto the soueraigne mercie of the king But since I cannot be it knowen vnto you I do remaine as newter so fare you well Vnlesse you please to enter in the castle And there repose you for this night Bull. An offer vncle that we will accept But we must winne your Grace to go with vs To Bristow castle which they say is held By Bushie Bagot and their complices The caterpillers of the commonwealth Which I haue sworne to weede and plucke away Yorke It may be I will go with you but yet Ile pawse For I am loath to breake our countries lawes Nor friends nor foes to me welcome you are Things past redresse are now with me past care Exeunt Enter erle of Salisbury and a Welch captaine Welch My lord of Salisbury we haue stayed ten dayes And hardly kept our countrymen together And yet we heare no tidings from the King Therefore we will disperse our selues farewell Salis. Stay yet an other day thou trustie Welchman The King reposeth all his confidence in thee Welch Tis thought the King is dead we wil not stay The bay trees in our country are al witherd And Meteors fright the fixed starres of heauen The pale-facde moone lookes bloudie on the earth And leane-lookt prophets whisper fearefull change Rich men looke sad and ruffians daunce and leape The one in feare to looâ—e what they enioy The other to enioy by rage and warre These signes forerunne the death or fall of Kings Farewell our countrymen arâ—gone and sled As well assuâ—ed Richard their King is dead Salis. Ah Richard with the eies of heauy mind I see thy glory like a shooting staâ—re Fall to the base earth from the firmament Thy sunne sets weeping in the lowly west Witnessing stormes to come wo and vnâ—est Thy friends are fled to wait vpon thy foes And crosly to thy good all fortune goes Enter Duke of Hereford Yorke Northumberland Bushie and Greene prisoners Bull. Bring forth these men Bushie and Greene I will not vex your soules Since presently your soules must part your bodies With too much vrging your pernitious liues For twere no charitie yet to wash your bloud From off my hands heere in the view of men I will vnfold some causes of your deaths You haue misled a Prince a royall King A happy Gentleman in bloud and lineaments By you vnhappied and disfigured cleane You haue in manner with your sinfull houres Made a diuorce betwixt his Queene and him Brâ—ke the possession of a royall bed And stainde the beutie of a faire Queenes cheekes With teares drawen from her eies by your fowle wrongs My selfe a Prince by fortune of my birth Neere to the King in bloud and neere in loue Till you did make him misinterpret me Haue stoopt my necke vnder your iniuries And sigh't my English breath In forren cloudes Eating the bitter bread of banishment Whilst you haue fed vpon my segâ—ories Disparkt my parkes and felld my forrest woods From my owne windowes torne my houshold coate Racâ—t out my impâ—eese leauing me no signe Saue mens opinions and my liuing bloud To shew the world I am a gentleman This and much more much more then twice all this Condemns you to the death see them deliuered ouer To execution and the hand of death Bush. More welcome is the stroke of death to me Than Bullingbrooke to England Lords farewell Greene My comfort is that heauen will take our soules And plague iniustice with the paines of hell Bul. My Lord Northumberland see them dispatcht Vncle you say the Queene is at your house For Gods sake fairely let her be intreated Tel her I send to her my kinde commends Take special care my greetings be deliuered Yorke A gentleman of mine I haue dispatcht With letters of your loue to her at large Bul. Thankes gentle vncle Come Lords away To fight with Glendor and his complices A while to worke and after holiday Exeunt Enter the King Aumerle Carleil c. King Barkloughly castle call they this at hand Aum. Yea my Lord How brookes your Grace the ayre After your late tossing on the breaking seas King Needes must I like it well I weepe for ioy To stand vpon my kingdome once againe Deere earth I do salute thee with my hand Though rebels wound thee with their horses hoofes As a long parted mother with her childe Playes fondly with her teares and smiles in meeting So weeping smiling greete I thee my earth And do thee fauours with my royall hands Feede not thy Soueraignes foe my gentle earth Nor with thy sweetes comfort his rauenous sence But let thy Spiders that sucke vp thy venome And heauy-gated toades lie in theyr way Doing annoyance to the treacherous feete Which with vsurping steps do trample thee Yeelde stinging nettles to mine
enemies And when they from thy bosome plucke a flower Guard it I pray thee with a lurking Adder Whose double tongue may wyth a mortall touch Throwe death vpon thy 〈◊〉 enemies Mocke not my sencelâ—s coniuration Lords This earth shall haue a feeling and these stones Proue armed souldiers ere her natiue King Shall faulter vnder foule rebellions armes Carl. Feare not my Lord that power that made you king Hath power to keepe you king in spight of all The meanes that heauens yeeld must be imbrac't And not neglected Else heauen would And we will not heauens offer we refuse The profered meanes of succors and redresse Aum. He meanes my Lo that we are too remisse Whilst Bulling brooke through our security Growes strong and great in substance and in power King Discomfortable Coosen knowst thou not That when the searching eie of heauen is hid Behinde the globe that lights the lower world Then theeues and robbers range abroad vnseene In murthers and in outrage bouldy here But when from vnder this terrestriall ball He fires the proud tops of the easterne pines And dartes his light through euery guilty hole Then murthers treasons and detested sinnes The cloake of night being pluckt from off their backs Stand bare and naked trembling at themselues So when this thiefe this traitor Bulling brooke Who all this while hath reueld in the night VVhilst we were wandring with the Antipodes Shall see vs rising in our throne the east His treasons will sit blushing in his face Not able to endure the â—ight of day But selfe affrighted tremble at his sinne Not all the water in the rough rude sea Can wash the balme off from an annointed King The breath of worldly men cannot depose The deputy elected by the Lord For euery man that Bullingbrooke hath prest To lifte shrewd steele against our golden crowne God for his Ric hath in heauenly pay A glorious Angell then iâ— Aâ—gels fight Weake men must â—all for heauen still gardes the right Enter Saliâ—b King Wâ—lcome my Lo how far off lies your power Salis. Nor 〈…〉 â—arther off my gratious Lo Than this weake 〈…〉 And bids me speake oâ— nothing but Despaiâ—e One day too late I feare me noble Lo Hath clouded all thy happy daies on 〈◊〉 O call 〈…〉 And thou shalt haue twelue thousand fighting men To day to day vnhappie daie too late Ouerthrowes thy ioies friends fortune and thy state For all the Welshmen hearing thou wert dead Are gone to Bullingbrooke disperst and sled Aum. Comfort my liegâ— why looâ—â—s your grace so pale King But now the bloud of 20000. men Did triumph in my face and they are fled And till so much bloud thither come againe Haue I not reason to looke pale and dead All soules that wil be safe 〈…〉 side For time hath set a blot vpon my â—ride Aum. Comfort my liege remember who you are King I had forgot my selâ—e am I not King Awake thou coward Maiesty thou sleepest Is not the Kings name twenty thousand names Arme arme my name a pâ—ny subiect-strikes At thy great glorie looke not to the ground Ye fauourites of a King are we not high High be our thoughts I know my Vnckle Yorke Hath power eâ—ough to serue our turne but who comes here Enter Scroope Scro. More health and happines betide my liegâ— Then can my care tunde tongue deliuer him King Mine eare is open and my hart prepard The worst is worldly losse thou canst vnfold Say is my kingdome lost why twas my care And what losse is it to be rid of care Striues Bullingbrooke to be as great as we Greater he shall not be if he serue God Weele serue him to and be his fellow so Reuolt our subiects that we cannot mende They breake their faith to God as well as vs Crie woe destruction ruine and decay The worst is death and death will haue his day Scro. Glad am I that your highnes is so armde To beare the tidings of calamity Like an vnseasonable stormie day Which makes the siluer riuers drowne their shores As if the world were all dissolude to teares So high aboue his limits swels the rage Of Bullingbrooke couering your fearefull land With hard bright steele and harts harder then steele White beards haue armd their thin and haireles scalpes Against thy maiesty boies with womens voices Striue to speake big and clap their 〈◊〉 ioints In stiffe vnweildy armes against thy crowne Thy very beadsmen learne to bend their bowes Of double fatall ewe against thy state Yea distâ—ffe women mannage rustie bils Against thy seate both young and old rebell And all goes worse then I haue power to tell King Too well too well thou telst a tale so ill Where is the Earle of Wiltsâ—ire where is Bagot What is become of Bushie where is Greene That they haue let the dangerous enemy Measure our confines with such peacefull steps If we preuaile their heads shall pay for it I warrant they haue made peace with Bulling Scro. Peace haue they made with him indeed my Lord. King Oh villaines vipers damnd without redemption Dogs easily woon to fawne on any man Snakes in my hart bloud warmd that sting my hart Three Iudasses each one thrise worse then Iudas Would they make peace terrible hel Make war vpon their spotted soules for this Scro. Sweet loue I see changing his propeâ—ty Turnes to the sowrest and most deadly hate Againe vncurse their soules their peace is made With heads and not with hands those whom you curse Haue felt the worst of deathes destroying wound And lie full low grau'd in the hollow ground Aum. Is Bushie 〈◊〉 and the Earle of Wiltshire dead Scro. I all of them at Bristow lost their heads Aum. Where is the Duke my father with his power King No matter whereâ—of comfort no man speake 〈◊〉 talke of graues of wormes and Epitaphs Make dust our paper and with rainy eies Write sorrow on the bosome of the earth Lets choose executors and talke of wils And yet not so for what can we bequeath Saue our deposed bodies to the ground Our landes our liues and all are Bullingbrookes And nothing can we call our owne but death And that small â—odle of the barren earth Which serues as paste and couer to our bones For Gods sake let vs fit vpon the ground And tell sad stoâ—ies of the death of Kings How some haue beene depoâ—d some slaine in warre â—ome haunted by the ghosts they haue deposed Some poisoned by their wiues some sleeping kild All murthered for within the hollow crowne That roundes the mortall temples of a king Keepes death his court and there the antique sâ—â—s â—cofâ—ng his state and grinâ—ing at his pompe Allowing him a bâ—eath a litle sceane To monarchise be feaâ—d and kil with lookes â—nfusing him with selfe and vaine conceit â—s if this flesh which wals about ourlife â—ere brasse impregnable and humord thus Comes at the last and with a little piâ— Boares thorâ—â—â—â— his Castle wall and farewell King
thee Ile not be long behind though I be old I doubt not but to ride as fast as Yorke An neuer will I rise vp from the ground Till Bullingbroke haue pardoned thee away be gone Enter the King with his nobles King H. Can no man tell me of my vnthriftie sonnâ— Tis full three moneths since I did see him last If any plague hâ—ng ouer vs tis he I wouâ—â— to God â—y Lordes he might be found Inquirâ— at London mongst the Tauernes there For there they say he daylie doth frequent With vnrestrained loose companions Euen such they say as stand in narrow lanes And beate our watch and â—ob our passengers Which he yong wanton and effeminate boy Takes on the point of honour to support so dissolute a crew H. Percie My Lord some two dayes since I saw the prince And touâ—d him of those triumphes helde at Oxford King And what said the gallant Per. His answer was he would vnto the stews And from the commonst creature plucke a gloue And weare it as a fauour and with that He would vnhorse the lustiest Challenger King H. As dissolute as desperat yet through both I see some sparkes of better hope which elder yeares May happily bring foorth But who comes heere Enter Aumerle amazed Aum. Where is the King King H. What meanes our cosen that he stares and lookes so wildly Aâ—m God saue your grace I doe beseech your Maiestie To haue some conference with your grace alone King Withdrawe your selues and leaue vs here alone What is the matter with our cosen nowe Aum. For eâ—er mâ—y my knees growe to the earth My tongue cleaue to my rooâ—fe within my mouâ—h Vnlesse a pardon ere I rise or speake King Intended or committed was this fault If on the first how heynous ere it be To win thy after loue I pardon thee Aum. Then giue me leaue that May turne the key That no man enter till my tale be done King Haue thy desire The Duke of Yorke knokes at the doore and crieth Yor. My leige beware looke to thy selfe Thou hast a Traitor in thy presence there King Vilain Ile make thee safe Aum. Stay thy reuengefull hand thou hast no cause to feare York Open the dore secure foole hardie King Shall I for loue speake treason to thy face Open the dore or I will breake it open King What is the matter vncle speake recouer breath Tell vs how neare is daunger That wee may arme vs to encounter it Yor. Peruse this writtng heere and thou shalt know The treason that my haste forbids me shew Aum. remember as thou readst thy promise past I do repent me reade not my name there My hart is not confederate with my hand Yor. It was vilaine ere thy hand did set it downe I tore it from the traitors bosome King Feare and not loue begets his penitence Forget to pittie him lest thy pittie proue A Serpent that will sting thee to the hart King O heynous strong and bould conspiracy O loyall Father of a treacherous Sonne Thou sheere immaculate and filuer Fountaine From whence this stâ—eame through muddy passages Hath held his current and defild himselfe Thy ouerflow of good conuerts to bad And thy aboundant goodnes shall excuse This deadly blot in thy digressing sonne Yor. So shall my vertue be his vices baude An he shall spend mine honour with his shame As thriftles sonnes their scraping Fathers gold Mine honour liues when his dishonour dies Or my shamde life in his dishonour lies Thou kilst me in his life giuing him breath The traitor liues the true man's put to death Du. What ho my Liege for Gods sake let me in King H. What shril voice suppliant makes this eger crie Du. A woman and thy aunt great king tis I Speake with me pitie me open the dooâ—e A beggar begs that neuer begd before King Our scene is altred from a serious thing And now changde to the Beggar and the King My dangerous cousin let your mother in I know she is come to pray for your foule sinne Yorke If thou do pardon whosoeuer pray More sinnes for this forgiuenes prosper may This festred ioynt cut off the rest rest found This let alone wil all the rest confound Du. Oh king beleeue not this hard-hearted man Loue louing not it selfe none other can Yorke Thou frantike woman what dost thou make here Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor reare Du. Sweete Yorke be patient heare me gentle Liege King H Rise vp good aunt Du. Not yet I thee beseech For euer wil I walke vpon my knees And neuer see day that the happy sees Till thou giue ioy vntil thou bid me ioy By pardoning Rutland my transgressing boy Aum. Vnto my mothers prayers I bend my knee yorke Against them both my true ioynts bended be Ill maist thou thriue if thou graunt any grace Du. Pleades he in earnest looke vpon his face His eies do drop no teares his prayers are in iest His words come from his month ours from our breast He prayes but faintly and would be denied We pray with heart and soule and all beside His weary ioynts would gladly rise I know Our knees still kneele till to the ground they grow His prayers are full of false hypocrisie Ours of true 〈◊〉 and deepe integritie Our prayers do out pray his then let them haue That mercy which true prayer ought to haue Yorke Good aunt stand vp Du. Nay do not say stand vp Say Pardon first and afterwards stand vp And if I were thy nurse thy tong to teach Pardon should be the first word of thy speach I neuer longd to heare a word till now Say pardon King let pitie teach thee how The word is short but not so short as sweete No word like pardon for Kings mouthes so meete yorke Speake it in French King say Pardonne â—oy Du. Dost thou teach pardon pardon to destroy Ah my sower husband my hard-hearted Lord That sets the word it selfe against the word Speake pardon as tis currant in our land The chopping French we do not vnderstand Thine eie begins to speake set thy tongue there Or in thy piteous heart plant thou thine eare That hearing how our plaints and prayers do pierce Pitie may mooue thee pardon to rehearse King H. Good aunt stand vp Du. I do not sue to stand Pardon is all the sute I haue in hand King I pardon him as God shall pardon me Du. Oh happy vantage of a kneeling knee Yet am I sicke for feare speake it againe Twice saying pardon doth not pardon twaine But makes one pardon strong King H. I pardon him with al my heart Du. A god on earth thou art King H. But for our trusty brother in law and the Abbot With all the rest of that consorted â—rew Destruction strait shal dog them at the heeles Good vncle help to order seuerall powers To Oxford or where ere these traitors are They shall not liue within this world I sweare But I will haue them if I