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His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;
For violent fires soon burn out themselves:
Small showers last long, but sudden storms
He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding, food doth choke the
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant, [feeder :
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise ;
This fortress, built by nature for herself,
Against infection, and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a moat defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth,
Renowned for their deeds as far from home, (For Christian service, and true_chivalry,) As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son:
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out (I die pronouncing it),
Like to a tenement, or pelting* farm:
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envions
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with
With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds;
That England, that was wont to conquer others,
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself:
O, would the scandal vanish with my life,
How happy then were my ensuing death!
Enter King RICHARD, and Queen; Au
MERLE, BUSHY, GREEN, BAGOT, ROSS,
York. The king is come: deal mildly with his youth; [more. For young hot colts, being raged, do rage the Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lan. caster? [with aged Gaunt? K. Rich. What comfort, man? How is't Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition!
Old Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt† in being old:
Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;
And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt?
For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;
Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt:
The pleasure, that some fathers feed upon,
Is my strict fast, I mean-my children's looks;
And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt:
Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with
Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock
Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those that live? [that die. Gaunt. No, no; men living flatter those K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st-thou flatter'st me. [aicker be. Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. [see thee ill; Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. Thy death-bed is no lesser than the land, Wherein thou liest in reputation sick : And thou, too careless patient as thou art, Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure Of those physicians that first wounded thee: A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, Whose compass is no bigger than thy head; And yet, incaged in so small a verge, The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. O, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame;
Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
Which art possess'di now to depose thyself.
Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
It were a shame to let this land by lease:
But, for thy world, enjoying but this land,
Is it not more than shame, to shame it so?
Landlord of England art thou now, not king:
Thy state of law is bondslave to the law;
a lunatic lean-witted fool,
Presuming on an ague's privilege,
Dar'st with thy frozen admonition
Make pale our cheek; chasing the royal blood,
With fury, from his native residence.
Now by my seat's right royal majesty,
Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son,
This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head,
Should run thy head from thy unreverend
Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Ed-
For that I was his father Edward's son;
That blood already, like the pelican,
Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly caroused:
My brother Gloster, plain well-meaning soul,
(Whom fair befal in heaven 'mongst happy
May be a precedent and witness good, [souls!)
That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's,
Join with the present sickness that I have;
And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.
Live in thy shame, but die not shame with
These words hereafter thy tormentors be!Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: Love they to live, that love and honour have. [Exit, borne out by his Attendants. K. Rich. Aud let thera die, that age aud sullens have;
For both hast thou, and both become the grave. York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his To wayward sickliness and age in him: [words He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear
As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here. K. Rich. Right; you say true: as Hereford's love, so his.
As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.
Now, afore God (God forbid, I say true!)
If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,
Call in the letters patent that he hath
By his attornies-general to sue
His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,
North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
K. Rich. What says he now? North. Nay, nothing; all is said: His tongue is now a stringless instrument; Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent, York. Be York the next that must be bank. rupt so!
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woc. K. Rick. The ripest fruit first falls, 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 rug-headed
Which live like venom, where no venom else,
But only they, hath privilege to livet.
And for these great affairs do ask some charge,
Towards our assistance, we do seize to us
The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,
Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd.
York. How long shall I be patient? Ah, how
Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? [long
Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banish-
Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private
Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke
About his marriage, nor my own disgrace,
Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,
Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.
I am the last of noble Edward's sons,
Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first;
In war, was never lion raged more fierce,
In peace was never gentle lamb more mild,
Than was that young and princely gentleman:
His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;
But, when he frown'd, it was against the French,
And not against his friends: his noble hand
Did win what he did spend, 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.
O, Richard! York is too far gone with grief,
Or else he never would compare between.
K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter?
O, my liege,
Pardon me, if you please; if not, I pleased
Not to be pardoned, am content withal.
Seek you to seize, 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 just? and is not Harry true?
Did not the one deserve to have an heir?
Is not his heir a well-deserving son?
Take Hereford's rights away, and take from
His charters, and his customary rights; [time
Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day;
Be not thyself, for how art thou a king,
But by fair sequence and succession?
Irish soldiers. When of thy age.
You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, And prick my tender patience to those thoughts Which honour and allegiance cannot think.
K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize intó our hands
His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. York. I'll not be by, the while: my liege,
What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell;
But by bad courses may be understood,
That their events can never fall out good. [Exit.
K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the Earl of Wilt.
Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,
To see this business: 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 just, and always loved us well.-
Come on our queen: to-morrow must we part;
Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
[Exeunt King, Queen, BUSHY, AUMERLE,
GREEN, and BAGOT.
North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster
[duke. Ross. And living too; for now his son is Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue. [right. 1 North. Richly in both, if justice had her Ross. My heart is great; but it must break
Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal || tongue. North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him
That speaks thy words again to do thee harm! Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of Hereford?
If it be so, out with It boldly, man;
Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him,
Ross. 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, is 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
And lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fined For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. Willo. And daily new exactions are de
As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: But what, o'God's name, doth become of this
+ Allading to the idea that no venomous reptiles live in Ireland. § Taking possession. Free. Deprived. ** Pillaged.
North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd
he hath not,
But basely yielded upon compromise
That which his ancestors achieved with blows:
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars.
Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm
Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a
North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth
Ross. He hath not money for these Irish
His burdenous taxations notwithstanding,
But by the robbing of the banish'd duke.
North. His noble kinsman: most degene-
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet seek no shelter to avoid the storm:
We see the wind set sore upon our sails,
And yet we strike not, but securely perish*.
Ross. We see the very wreck that we must
And unavoided is the danger now,
For suffering so the causes of our wreck.
North. Not so; even through the hollow
eyes of death,
I 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.
Ross. Be confident to speak, Northumber-
We three are but thyself; and, speaking so,
Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore be
[Blanc, a bay
North. Then thus:-I have from Port le
In Brittany, received intelligence,
That Harry Hereford, Reignold lord Cobham,
The son of Richard earl of Arundel,]
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
All these well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne,
With eight tallt ships, three thousand men of
Are making hither with all due expedience ‡,
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:
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
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
SCENE II. The samé. A Room in the
Enter Queen, BUSHY, and BAGOT.
Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad;
You promised, when you parted with the king,
To lay aside life-harming heaviness,
And entertain a cheerful disposition.
Queen. To please the king, I did; to please
I cannot do it; yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest
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
Which show like grief itself, but are not so:
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire to many objects;
Like perspectives, which, rightly gazed upon,
Show nothing but confusion; eyed awry,
Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds shapes of grief, 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,
More than your lord's departure weep not;
Queen. 'Tis nothing less: conceit is still de From some forefather grief; mine is not so; For nothing bath begot my something grief; Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: 'Tis in reversion that I do possess; But what it is, that is not yet known; what I cannot name; 'tis nameless woe, I wott. · Enter GREEN. Green. God save your majesty!-and well met, gentlemen:
I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland.
Queen. Why hopest thou so? 'tis better
For his designs crave haste, his haste good
Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not
[tired his power,
Green. That he, our hope, might have re-
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 arrived
Queen. Now God in heaven forbid !
Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that
The lord Northumberland, his young son
The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.
+ Stout. + Expedition. § Supply with new **Fanciful conception. + Know. Drawn it back,
• Perish by confidence in our security. eathers. Gilding. ¶ Pictures.
And all the rest of the revolting faction
Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd How, or which way, to order these affairs,
Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,
Never believe me. Both are my kinsmer;
The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend; the other again,
Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd;
Whom conscience and my kindred bidsto right.
Well,somewhat we must do.-Come,cousin, I'll
Dispose of you :-Go, muster up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley-castle.
I should to Plashy too;-
Green.We have: whereon the earl of Wor-
Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship,
And all the household servants fled with him
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.
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.
Green. Here comes the duke of York. [neck;
Queen. With signs of war about his aged
O, full of careful business are his looks !-
For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts:
But time will not permit :-all is uneven,
And every thing is left at six and seven.
[Exeunt YORK and Queen.
Bushy. The wind sets fair for news to go
But none returns. For us to levy power,
Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all impossible.
Green. Besides our nearness to the king in Is near the hate of those love not the king. Bagot. And that's the wavering commons:
Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do Because we ever have been near the king. Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol castle;
Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and
Your husband he is gone to save far off, [grief.
Whilst others come to make him lose at home: The earl of Wiltshire is already there. [office
Here am I left to underprop his land;
Bushy. Thither will I with you: for little
Who, weak with age, cannot support my-The hateful commons will perform for us;
[made; Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.-
Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit Will you go along with us?
Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.
Enter a Servant.
Serv. My lord, your son was gone before
[way it will !-
York. He was ?-Why, so!-go all which
The nobles they are fled, the commons cold,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's side.
Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster;
Bid her send me presently a thousand pound:—
Hold, take my ring.
Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lord-
To-day, as I came by, I called there; [ship:
But I shall grieve you to report the rest.
York. What is it, knave?
Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess
York. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes
Comes rushing on this woful land at once!
I know not what to do :-I would to God,
(So my untruth had not provoked him to it,)
The king had cut off my head with my bro-
What, are there posts despatch'd for Ire-
How shall we do for money for these wars?—
Come, sister,-cousin, I would say: pray, par-
[provide some carts,
Go, fellow, [To the Servant.] get thee home,
And bring away the armour that is there,-
Gentlemen, will you go auster men? if I know
Bugot. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty.
Farewell; if heart's presages be not vain,
We three here part, that ne'er shall meet
Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back
Green. Alas, poor duke! the task he un- .
Is-numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans
Where one on his side fights, thousands will
Bushy. Farewell at once; for once, for all,
Green. Well, we may meet again.
Bagot. I fear me, never. [Exeunt.
SCENE III. The Wilds in Glostershire.
Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBER
LAND, with Forces.
Boling. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley
North. Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Glostershire.
These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways,
Draw out our miles, and make them weari
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 com-
Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled • Disloyalty.
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweeten'd 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
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? Enter HARRY PERCY.
North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoHarry, how fares your uncle? [ever.
Percy. I had thought,my lord,to have learu'd his health of you.
North. Why, is he not with the queen? Percy. No, my good lord, he hath forsook the court,
Broken his staff of office, and dispersed
The household of the king.
North. What was his reason? He was not so resolved, when last we spake together. [traitor. Percy.Because your lordshipwas proclaimed But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg, To offer service to the duke of Hereford; And sent me o'er by Berkley, to discover What power the duke of York had levied there; Then with direction to repair to Kavenspurg. North. Have you forgot the duke of Hereford, boy? [forgot, Percy. No, my good lord; for that is not Which ne'er I did remember: to my know. I never in my life did look on him. [ledge, North. Then learn to know him now; this is the duke. [service, Percy. My gracious lord, I tender you my Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young; Which elder days shall ripen, and confirm To more approved service and desert. [sure, Boling. I thank thee, gentle Percy; and be 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. [etir North. How far is it to Berkley? And what Keeps good old York there with his men of war? [of trees, Percy. There stands the castle, by yon tuft Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have beard: [Seymour; And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and None else of name, and noble estimate.
Ross. Your presence makes us rich, most noble lord.
[tain it. Willo. And far surmounts our labour to atBoling. Evermore thanks, the exchequer of
Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, Stands for my bounty. But who comes here? Enter BERKLEY.
North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you. [ter;
Boling. My lord, my answer is to LancasAnd I am come to seek that name in England: And I must find that title in your tongue, Before I make reply to aught you say. [meaning Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my To raze one title of your honour out:To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,) From the most glorious regent of this land, The duke of York: to know, what pricks you on To take advantage of the absent time t, [arms. And fright our native peace with self-born Enter YORK attended.
Boling. I shall not need transport my words
[uncle ! Here comes his grace in person. My noble [Kneels.
York. Show me thy humble heart, and not Whose duty is deceivable and false. [thy knee, Boling. My gracious uncle!—
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 those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dared once to touch a dust of England's
But then more why;-Why have they dared
So many miles upon her peaceful bosom ;
Frighting her pale-faced villages with war,
And ostentation of despised arms? [hence?
Comest thou because the anointed king is
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
From forth the ranks of many thousand
O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,
Now prisoner to the palsy, chástise thee,
And minister correction to thy fault! [fault;
Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my
On what condition stands it, and wherein ?
York. Even in condition of the worst de-
+ Time of the king's absence.