QUEEN. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe, 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, Enter YORK. GREEN. Here comes the duke of York. QUEEN. With signs of war about his aged neck; For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. Enter a Servant. SERV. My lord, your son was gone before I came. The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, SERV. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship: But I shall grieve you to report the rest. YORK. What is it, knave? SERV. An hour before I came, the duchess died. • This line is wanting in the folio. YORK. Heaven for his mercy! what a tide of woes Come, sister,-cousin, I would say: pray, pardon me. Go, fellow [to the Servant], get thee home, provide some carts, And bring away the armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you go muster men? if I know How, or which way, to order these affairs, Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd, Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. I should to Plashy too ; But time will not permit :-All is uneven, And everything is left at six and seven. BUSHY. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, Is all impossible. GREEN. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, [Exit Servant. [Exeunt YORK and QUEEN. BAGOT. And that's the wavering commons: for their love BUSHY. Thither will I with you: for little office BAGOT. NO; I will to Ireland to his majesty. • The first quarto has no posts. Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. Is numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry; I fear me, nevera. [Exeunt. SCENE III.-The Wilds in Glostershire. Enter BOLINGBROKE and NORTHUMBERLAND, with Forces. BOLING. How far is it, my lord, to Berkley now ? I am a stranger here in Glostershire. These high wild hills, and rough uneven ways, But theirs is sweeten'd with the hope to have The present benefit which I possess: And hope to joy b is little less in joy, Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords Shall make their way seem short; as mine hath done 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, whencesoever. Harry, how fares your uncle? PERCY. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his health of you. • We agree with Mr. Collier in assigning the last three lines to the speakers indicated by the quarto editions. To joy is here used as a verb. NORTH. Why, is he not with the queen? PERCY. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court, The household of the king. NORTH. What was his reason? He was not so resolv'd when we last spake together. Which ne'er I did remember: to my knowledge, I never in my life did look on him. NORTH. Then learn to know him now; this is the duke. Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young; It shall be still thy true love's recompense: My heart this covenant makes, my hand thus seals it. NORTH. How far is it to Berkley? And what stir Keeps good old York there, with his men of war? PERCY. There stands the castle, by yon tuft of trees, Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard: And in it are the lords of York, Berkley, and Seymour; None else of name and noble estimate. Enter Ross and WILLOUGHBY. NORTH. Here come the lords of Ross and Willoughby, Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd, Which, till my infant fortune comes to years, Enter BERKLEY. NORTH. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. And I am come to seek that name in England: BERK. Mistake me not, my lord; 't is not my meaning To you, my lord, I come, (what lord you will,) And fright our native peace with self-born arms. Enter YORK, attended. BOLING. I shall not need transport my words by you; BOLING. My gracious uncle! YORK. Tut, tut! Grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle. Why have these banish'd and forbidden legs Dar'd once to touch a dust of England's ground? But more then, why, why have they dar'd to march miles upon her peaceful bosom, So many Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war, And ostentation of despised arms d? Com'st thou because the anointed king is hence? Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind, And in my loyal bosom lies his power. [Kneels. • To Lancaster. I do not answer to the name of Hereford-my answer is to the name of Lan caster. Gracious in the first quarto;-glorious in the folio, which also omits regent. • This is the reading of the first quarto. The folio reads, "Tut, tut, grace me no grace, nor uncle me." In 'Romeo and Juliet' we have, & Despised arms. "Thank me no thankings, nor proud me no prouds." The ostentation of arms which we despise. 1 |