As in a soul rememb'ring my good friends; Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY. North. Here come the lords of Ross and Willoughby. Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste. Boling. Welcome, my lords: I wot, your love pursues A banish'd traitor; all my treasury Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd, Ross. Your North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. Berk. My lord of Hereford, my message is to you. Boling. My lord, my answer is-to Lancaster; And 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. Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning, 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, And fright our native peace with self-born arms. Enter YORK, attended. Boling. I shall not need transport my words by you; Here comes his grace in person. My noble uncle! [Kneels York. Show me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, Whose duty is deceiveable and false. Boling. My gracious uncle!— York. Tut, tut! Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle: Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war, And ostentation of despised arms? Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence? And in my loyal bosom lies his power. Were I but now the lord of such hot youth, Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault; On what condition stands it, and wherein ? York. Even in condition of the worst degree,In gross rebellion, and detested treason: Thou art a banish'd man, and here art come, Before the expiration of thy time, In braving arms against thy sovereign. Boling. As I was banish'd, I was banish'd Hereford; But as I come, I come for Lancaster. And, noble uncle, I beseech your grace, It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster. And yet my letters-patent give me leave: North. The noble duke hath been too much abus'd. Ross. It stands your grace upon, to do him right. Willo. Base men by his endowments are made great. York. My lords of England, let me tell you this,I have had feeling of my cousin's wrongs, And labour'd all I could to do him right: But in this kind to come, in braving arms, Be his own carver, and cut out his way, To find out right with wrong,-it may not be ; And you, that do abet him in this kind, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all. North. The noble duke hath sworn, his coming is But for his own: and, for the right of that, We all have strongly sworn to give him aid; And let him ne'er see joy that breaks that oath. York. Well, well, I see the issue of these arms; I cannot mend it, I must needs confess, Because my power is weak, and all ill left: But, if I could, by him that gave me life, 1 would attach you all, and make you stoop Unto the sovereign mercy of the king; But, since I cannot, be it known to you, I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well Unless you please to enter in the castle, And there repose you for this night. Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept. But we must win your grace, to go with us To Bristol castle; which, they say, is held Which I have sworn to weed, and pluck away. pause; For I am loath to break our country's laws. Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are: SCENE IV. A Cump in WALES. Enter SALISBURY and a Captain. [Exeunt. Capt. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten days, And hardly kept our countrymen together, And yet we hear no tidings from the king; Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman; The king reposeth all his confidence In thee. Capt. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not stay. The bay-trees in our country are all wither'd, And meteors fright the fixed stars of heaven; The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth, And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change; Rich men look sad, and ruffians dance and leap,The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy, The other, to enjoy by rage and war: These signs forerun the death or fall of kings.Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled, As well assur'd, Richard their king is dead. [Exit. Sal. Ah, Richard! with the eyes of heavy mind, I see thy glory, like a shooting star, [Exit. SCENE I. BOLINGBROKE'S Camp at BRISTOL. Enter BOLINGBROKE, YORK, NORTHUMBERLAND, PERCY, WILLOUGHBY, ROSS: Officers behind, with BUSHY and GREEN, Prisoners. Boling. Bring forth these men. Busby and Green, I will not vex your souls And stain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks Near to the king in blood; and near in love, |