North. Nay, nothing; all is faid:

His tongue is now a ftringlefs inftrument;
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 ripest fruit first falls, and fo doth he;
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be:

d

So much for that.- -Now for our Irish wars:
We muft fupplant those rough rug-headed kerns;
Which live like venom, where no venom elfe,
But only they, hath privilege to live.
And, for these great affairs do ask some 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 fhall I be patient? Oh, how long
Shall tender duty make me suffer 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 disgrace,

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

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 so look'd he,
Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
But, when he frown'd, it was against the French,

kerns;]-boors, foot foldiers.

About bis marriage,]-The match agreed upon with the only daughter of the Duke of Berry, uncle to the French King, but prevented by Richard,

And

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.
Oh, Richard! York is too far gone
with grief,
Or else he never would compare between.
K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter?
York. O, my liege,

Pardon me, if you pleafe; 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 banish'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-deserving son ?

Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time
His charters, and his cuftomary rights;
Let not to-morrow then enfue to-day ;
Be not thyfelf, for how art thou a king,
But by fair fequence and fucceffion?
Now, afore God (God forbid, I say true!)
If
you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
Call in his letters patent that he hath

By his attornies-general to fue

'His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,
You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
You lose a thousand well-difpofed hearts,

And prick my tender patience to those thoughts
Which honour and allegiance cannot think.

His livery,]—The delivery of his lands upon the payment of the crown's dues.

s offer'd bomage,]-the fervice by which he is to hold them.

K. Rich

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 courfes may be understood,

That their events can never fall out good.

[Exit.

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

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 absence 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 must we part;
Be merry, for our time of stay is fhort.

[Flourish. [Exeunt king, queen, &c.

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

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

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

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

more,

That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm!

Willo. Tends that thou'dit fpeak, 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,

In

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

'Gaingst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.

h

Rofs. The commons hath he " pill'd with grievous taxes, 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 wafted it, for warr'd he hath not, But bafely yielded upon compromise

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

Rofs. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm.
Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken man.
North. Reproach, and diffolution, hangeth over him.
Rofs. He hath not money for these Irish wars,
His burthenous 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 fheiter to avoid the ftorm:

We see the wind fit fore upon our fails,

j

And yet we strike not, but fecurely perish..

Rofs. We fee the very wreck that we must suffer; And unavoided is the danger now,

For fuffering fo the causes of our wreck.

h pill'd]-pillaged.

1 blanks, benevolences,]-warrants not filled up,-gratuities, a new

fpecies of impofition.

j ftrike not,]—do not contract, or lower them.

North.

North. Not fo; even through the hollow eyes of death, I spy 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. Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumberland : We three are but thyfelf; and, speaking so, Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. North. Then thus:-I have from Port le Blanc, a bay In Britany, receiv'd intelligence,

That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham,

k That late broke from the duke of Exeter; His 'brother, archbishop late of Canterbury, Sir Thomas Erpingham, fir John Ramston,

Sir John Norbery, fir Robert Waterton, and Francis
Quoint,-

All these, well furnished by the duke of Bretagne,
With eight tall fhips, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience,
And shortly mean to touch our northern fhore:
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 duft that hides our scepter's gilt,
And make high majefty look like itself,
Away, with me, in poft to Ravenfpurg:
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay, and be fecret, and myself will go.

That late broke from the duke of Exeter ;]-The name of the perfon, to whom this circumftance relates, is unaccountably omitted in this lift; it was Thomas, fon and heir of the late earl of Arundel, and nephew to the depofed Archbishop. 1 uncle.

Imp out]-Eke out; fupply with fresh feathers. " from broking pawn]-out of the hands of the pawn-broker.

Rofs.