1

Bufb. More welcome is the ftroke of death to me,
Then Bullingbrooke to England: lords farewell *.
Greene. My comfort is, that heauen will take our foules,
And plague iniuftice with the paines of hell.

Bul. My lord Northumberland, see them dispatcht :
Vnckle, you say, the queene is at your house,
Gor Gods + fake fairelie let her be entreated,
Tell her, I fend to her my kind commends;
Take speciall care my greetings be deliuered.

Yorke. A gentleman of mine I haue dispatcht
With letters of your loue to her at large.
Bull. Thanks (gentle vnckle:) come lords, away,
To fight with Glendor ‡ and his complices,
A while to worke, and after holiday.

Enter the king, Aumerle, Carlile, &c.
King. Barkloughly castle call you this at hand?
Au. Yea my lord; how brook's your grace the
After your late toffing on the breaking feas?

Exeunt. 1

ayre

King. Needs muft I like it well, I weepe for ioy,
To ftand vpon my kingdome once againe
Deare earth, I doe falute thee with my hand,
Though rebels wound thee with their horfes hoofes :
As a long parted mother with her child,

Plaies fondlie with her teares, and fmiles in meeting:
So weeping, fmiling, grect I thee my †† earth,
And doe thee fauour with my royall hands,
Feede not thy foueraignes foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy fweets comfort his rauenous fence,
But let thy fpiders, that fucke vp thy venome,
And heauie gated toads lie in their way,
Dooing annoyance to the trecherous feete,

lords farewell omitted + Heavens

Drums flourish and colours and foldiers.

Gendowre

Scaena Secunda.

tt be

Which with vfurping steps do trample thee:
Yeeld ftinging nettles to mine enemies:

And when they from my bofome plucke a flower,
Guard it I pray thee with a lurking adder,
Whofe double tongue may with a mortall touch,
Throw death vpon thy foueraignes enemies :
Mocke not my fenfleffe coniuration lords :

This earth fhall haue a feeling, and these ftones
Prooue armed fouldiers ere her natiue king

Shall falter vnder foule rebellious armes.

Carl. Feare not my lord, that power that made you king,

Hath power to keepe you king in spite of all;

The meanes that heauens yeeld must be imbrac't
And not neglected. Elfe heauen would,
And we would not; heauens offer, we refufe
The pooffered || meanes of fuccours and redresse.

Aum. He meanes, my lord, that we are too remisse,
Whilft Bullingbrooke, through our § fecuritie,
Growes ftrong and great in fubftance and in power tt.
King. Difcomfortable coofin, knowst thou not,

That when the fearching eie of heauen is hid
Behind the globe that lights the lower world,
Then theeues and robbers range abroade vnfeene,
In murthers, and in outrage bloodie heere.
But when from vnder his ‡‡ terrestrial ball,
He fires the proud tops of the easterne pines,
And darts his light §§ through euery guilty hole;

Then murders,. treafons, and detefted finnes,

The cloake of night being pluckt from off their backes,

Stand bare and naked trembling at themfelues:

So when this thiefe, this traitour Bullingbrooke,

Who all this while hath reueld in the night,
Whilst we were wandring with the Antipodes,
Shall fee vs rifing in our throne the east,
His treafons will fit blufhing in his face,
Not able to endure the fight of day,

But felfe affrighted, trembled at his finne,

Not all the water in the rough rude fea,

Can wash the balme off from an annoynted king.
The breath of worldly men can cannot depose

The deputy elected by the Lord,

For euery man that Bullingbrooke hath preft
To lift fhrewd steele against our golden crowne,
God for his Richard hath in heauenly pay,

A glorious angel: then if angels fight,

Weake men must fall, for heauen still guards the right.

Enter Salisb.

King. Welcome my lord: how farre off lies your power?
Salisb. Nor neere, nor farthar off, my gracious lord:
Than this weake arme; difcomfort guides my tongue.
And bids me speake of nothing but despaire,

One day too late, I feare, my noble lord
Hath clouded all thy § happy daies on earth,

O call backe yesterday, bid time returne,

And thou shalt haue twelue thoufand fighting men :
To day, to day, vnhappy day, too late,

Ouerthrowes thy ioyes, friends, fortune, and thy ftate:
For all the Welchmen hearing thou wert dead,

Are gone to Bullingbrooke, difperft, and fled.

Aum Comfort, my liege, why lookes your grace fo pale **? King. But now the blood of twenty thousand men

Did triumph in my face, and they are fled:

This line is omitted in the edition in 1634. * tremble

te omitted

And till fo much blood thither come againe,
Haue I not reason to looke pale and dead?
All foules that will be fafe, flie from my fide,
For time hath fet a blot vpon my pride.

Aum. Comfort, my liege, remember who you arc.
King. I had forgot my felfe, am I not king?
Awake thou coward, maieftie thou sleepest,
Is not the kings name twenty † thousand names?
Arme, arme, my name a puny fubiect strikes
At thy great glory, looke not to the ground,
Yee fauourites of a king, are we not high?
High be our thoughts, I know my vncle Yorke

Hath power enough to ferue our turne: but who comes here?

Enter Scroope.

Scroope. More health and happinesse betide my liege,

Then can my care tunde tongue deliuer him.

King. Mine eare is open, and my heart prepard,
The worst is worldly loffe thou canst vnfold.
Say, is my kingdome loft? why twas my care,
And what loffe is it to be rid of care?
Striues Bullingbrooke to be as great as wee?
Greater he fhall not be: if he ferue God,
Weele ferue him too, and be his fellow fo.
Reuolt our fubiects? that we cannot mend,
They breake their faith to God as well as vs :
Crie woe, deftruction, ruine, and ‡ decay,
The worst is death, and death will haue his day.
Scroo. Glad am I, that your highnesse is so armd
To beare the tidings of calamitie,

Like an vnfeafonable ftormie day,

Which make the filuer riuers drown their bowers §

As if the world were all dissolud to teares,

So high aboue his limits fwels the rage

Of Bullingbrooke, couering your fearefull land

With hard bright fteele, and hearts harder then steele?

*

White beards haue armd their thinne and haireleffe fcalps

Against thy maieftie: and boyes with womens voyces
Striue to fpeake bigge, and clap their female ioynts
In stiffe vnwildie armes, against thy crowne,
Thy very beadf-men learne to bend their browest,
Of double fatall woe ‡ against thy state.

Yea diftaffe women mannage ruftie billes ;
Against thy feate both young and old rebell,
And all goes worse then I haue power to tell.

King. To well, to well thou telft a tale fo ill.
Where is the earle of Wiltshire? where is Bagot?
What is become of Bufbie? where is Greene?
That they haue let the dangerous enemie
Measure our confines with fuch peacefull fteps.
If we preuaile, their heads § fhall pay for it:

I warrant they haue made peace with Bullingbrooke.

Scro. Peace haue they made with him indeed my lord. King. Oh villaines, vipers, damnd without redemption, Dogs eafily wonne to fawne on any man.

Snakes in my heart blood warmd, that sting my heart;
Three Iudaffes, each one thrice worse then Iudas,
Would they make peace? terrible hell

Make warre vpon their spotted foules for this ++.

Scro. Sweet Ique's §§ (I fee) changing: his property Turnes to the fowreft and most deadlie hate.

Againe vncurfe their foules, their peace is made

With head, and not with hands, those whom you curfe
Haue felt the worst of deaths deftroying wound,

And lie full low grau'd in the hollow ground.