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leave of you;

my lot,

Flourish of Trumpets. Enter King Richard, who | As confident, as is the falcon's flight

takes his seat on his throne ; Gaunt, and several Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. Noblemen, who take their places. A trumpet is My loving lord, (To Lord Marshal.] I take my sounded, and answered by another trumpet within. Then enter Norfolk, in armour, preceded by a Of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle ;Herald.

Not sick, although I have to do with death ; K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion

But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. The cause of his arrival here in arms:

Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet Ask him his name; and orderly proceed

The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet : To swear him in the justice of his cause.

O thou, the earthly author of my blood, Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who

[To GAUNT. thou art,

Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms:

Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up Against what man thou com’st, and

what thy quarrel: Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers ;

To reach at victory above my head,
Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath ;
And so defend thce heaven, and thy valour!

And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, Norfolk;

And furbish new the name of John of Gaunt, Who hither come engaged by my oath,

Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son. (Which, heaven defend, a knight should violate !)

Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee Both to defend my loyalty and truth,

prosperous ! To God, my king, and my succeeding issue,

Be swift like lightning in the execution : Against the duke of Hereford that appeals me:

And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, And, by the grace of God, and this mine arm,

Fall like amazing thunder on the casque To prove him, in defending of myself,

Of thy advérse pernicious enemy : A traitor to my God, my king, and me:

Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant, and live. And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

Boling. Mine innocency, and saint George to

thrive! [He takes his seat.

[He takes his seat. Trumpet sounds. Enter BOLINGBROKE, in armour;

Nor. [Rising:] However heaven, or fortune, cast preceded by a Herald.

There lives or dies, true to king Richard's throne, K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, A loyal, just, and upright gentleman : Both who he is, and why he cometh hither Never did captive with a freer heart Thus plated in habiliments of war ;

Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace And formally according to our law

His golden uncontrollid enfranchisement, Depose him in the justice of his cause.

More than my dancing soul doth celebrate Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com’st This feast of battle with mine adversary. thou hither,

Most mighty liege, – and my companion peers, Before king Richard, in his royal lists?

Take from my mouth the wish of happy years : Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? As gentle and as jocund, as to jest, Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven ! Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, K. Rich. Farewell, my lord : securely I espy Am I; who ready here do stand in arms,

Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, Order the trial, marshal, and begin. In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, (The King and the Lords return to their seals. That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me: Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

Boling. (Rising.] Strong as a tower in hope, I Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold,

cry: Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists;

Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.) to Except the marshal, and such officers

Thomas duke of Norfolk. Appointed to direct these fair designs.

1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, hand,

On pain to be found false and recreant, And bow my knee before his majesty :

To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men A traitor to his God, his king, and him, That vow a long and weary pilgrimage ;

And dares him to set forward to the fight. Then let us take a ceremonious leave,

2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke And loving farewell, of our several friends.

of Norfolk,
Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your On pain to be found false and recreant,

Both to defend himself, and to approve
And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our To God, his sovereign, and to him disloyal ;

Courageously, and with a free desire,
Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,

Attending but the signal to begin. So be thy fortune in this royal fight!

Mar. Sound trumpets; and set forward, com. Farewell, my blood ; which if to-day thou shed,


[A charge sounded. Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead. Stay, the king bath thrown his warder 7 down.

Boling. 0, let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear ;

7 Truncheon.



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K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their | Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile spears,

This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate ; And both return back to their chairs again : Nor never by advised purpose meet, Withdraw with us: - and let the trumpets sound, To plot, contrive, or complot any ill, While we return these dukes what we decree. 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.

[A long flourish. Boling. I swear.

[To the Combatants. Nor. And I, to keep all this. And list, what with our council we have done. Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy; For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd By this time, had the king permitted us, With that dear blood which it bath fostered ; One of our souls had wander'd in the air, And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect

Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours'swords; | As now our flesh is banish'd from this land : [And for we think the eagle-winged pride

Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm ; Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,

Since thou hast far to go, bear not along With rival-hating envy, set you on

The clogging burden of a guilty soul. To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Nor. No, Bolingbroke; If ever I were traitor, Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep ;] My name be blotted from the book of life, Which so rous'd up, with boisterous untun'd drums, And I from heaven banish'd as from hence ! With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know; And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,

And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace, Farewell, my liege : - Now no way can I stray ; And make us wade even in our kindred's blood; – Save back to England, all the world's my way. [Erit. Therefore we banish you our territories :

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,

I see thy grieved heart, thy sad aspect
Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields, Hath from the number of his banish'd years
Shall not regreet our fair dominions,

Pluck'd four away ; —

Six frozen winters spent, But tread the stranger paths of banishment. Return (To Boling.] with welcome home from Boling. Your will be done : This must my com

banishment. fort be,

Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! That sun that warms you here, shall shine on me; Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, And those his golden beams, to you here lent, End in a word ; such is the breath of kings. Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that in regard of me, K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, He shortens four years of my son's exile : Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: But little vantage shall I reap thereby; The fly-slow hours shall not determinate

For, ere the six years that he hath to spend, The dateless limit of thy dear exíle ;

Can change their moons, and bring their times about, The hopeless word of - never to return

My oil-dried lamp, and time bewasted light, Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Shall be extinct with age, and endless night; Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, My inch of taper will be burnt and done, And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth : And blindfold death not let me see my son. A dearer merit, not so deep a maim

K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. As to be cast forth in the common air,

Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: Have I deserved at your highness' hand.

Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, The language I have learn'd these forty years, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morro'p • My native English, now I must forego,

Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
And now my tongue's use is to me no more, But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage ;
Than an unstringed viol or a harp;

Thy word, is current with him for my death; Or, like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. Or, being open, put into his hands

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice; That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave & ; Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lower? Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips; Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion And dull, unfeeling barren ignorance

sour. Is made my gaoler to attend on me.

You urg'd me as a judge ; but I had rather, I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

You would have bid me argue like a father : Too far in years to be a pupil now;

(), had it been a stranger, not my child, What is thy sentence, then, but speechless death, To smooth his fault, I should have been more mild: Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath? A partial slander 9 sought I to avoid,

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate; And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. After our sentence, plaining comes too late. Alas. I look'd, when some of you should say,

Nor. Then thus, I turn me from my country's light, I was too strict, to make mine own away; To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. (Retiring. But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. Against my will to do myself this wrong. Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; K. Rich. Cousin, farewell:-and, uncle, bid him so, Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,

Six years we banish him, and he shall go. (Our part therein we banish with yourselves,)

[F'lourish. Ereunt K. RICHARD and Train. To keep the oath that we administer :

Aum. Cousin, farewell: what presence must not You never shall, (so help you truth and heaven!)

know, Embrace each other's love in banishment;

From where you do remain let paper show, Nor never look upon each other's face;

8 Had a part or share. 9 Reproach of partiality.

Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, As far as land will let me, by your side.

But to the next high way, and there I left him. Gaunt. 0,to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, K. Rich. And, say, what store of parting tears That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ?

were shed ? Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the north-east When the tongue's office should be prodigal

To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Which then blew bitterly against our faces,

Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. Awak'd the sleeping rheum ; and so, by chance,
Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time. Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.
Gaunt. What is six winters? they are quickly gone. K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you parted
Boling. To men in joy: but grief makes one hour

with him?

Aum. Farewell :
Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure. And, for my heart disdain'd that my tongue

Boling. My heart will sigh when I miscall it so, Should so profane the word, that taught me craft Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.

To counterfeit oppression of such grief, Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps

That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set

Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen'd The precious jewel of thy home-return.

Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make And added years to his short banishment,
Will but remember me what a deal of world He should have had a volume of farewells;
I wander from the jewels that I love.

But, since it would not, he had none of me.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood

K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, To foreign passages, and in the end,

When time shall call him home from banishment, Having my freedom, boast of nothing else,

Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. But that I was a journeyman to grief?

Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green, Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits, Observ'd his courtship to the common people :Are to a wise man ports and happy havens : How he did seem to dive into their hearts, Teach thy necessity to reason thus;

With humble and familiar courtesy; There is no virtue like necessity.

What reverence he did throw away on slaves ; Think not, the king did banish thee;

Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of smiles, But thou the king : Woe doth the heavier sit, And patient underbearing of his fortune, Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.

As 'twere to banish their affects with him. Go, say — I sent thee forth to purchase honour, Otf goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; And not — the king exíl’d thee : or suppose, A brace of draymen bid. God speed him well, Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,

And had the tribute of his supple knee, And thou art flying to a fresher clime.

With – Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends; Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it

As were our England in reversion his,
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'st : And he our subjects' next degree in hope.
Suppose the singing birds, musicians;

Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence'strew'd;

thoughts. The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps no more Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland ; Than a delightful measure or a dance :

Expedient manage must be made, my liege; For gnarling ? sorrow hath less power to bite Ere further leisure yield them further means, The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. For their advantage, and your highness' loss.

Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand, K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war. By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?

And, for our coffers — with too great a court, Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

And liberal largess — are grown somewhat light, By bare imagination of a feast?

We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm ; Or wallow naked in December snow,

The revenue whereof shall furnish us By thinking on fantastick summer's heat ?

For our affairs in hand: If that come short, O, no, the apprehension of the good,

Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,

They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold, Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. And send them after to supply our wants ; Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on For we will make for Ireland presently.

Enter Busuy. Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.

Bushy, what news? Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet

Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord; soil, adieu ;

Suddenly taken; and hath sent post-haste,
My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where-e'er I wander, boast of this I can,

To entreat your majesty to visit him.

K. Rich. Where lies he? Though banish’d, yet a trueborn Englishman.

Bushy. At Ely-house. (Ereunt.

K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physician's mind, SCENE IV. The same. A Room in the King's To help him to his grave immediately! Castle.

The lining of his coffers shall make coats Enter King RICHARD, Bagot, and GREEN; Au-To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. MEKLE following:

Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him : K. Rich We did observe. Cousin Aumerle,

Pray heaven, we may make haste, and come too How far brought you high Hereford on his way?


[Ereunt. 1 Presence chamber at court. 2 Growling

3 Because.

thy way:


my last


SCENE I. London. A Room in Ely-house. This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,

Dear for her reputation through the world, Gaunt on a Couch; the Duke of York, and others Is now leas'd out (I die pronouncing it,) standing by him.

Like to a tenement or pelting 5 farm :
Gaunt. Will the king come ? that I may breathe England, bound in with the triumphant sea,

Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege In wholesome counsel to his unstayed youth. Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ; breath;

That England, that was wont to conquer others, For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.

Hath made a shameful conquest of itself : Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying men 0, would the scandal vanish with my life, Enforce attention, like deep harmony:

How happy then were my ensuing death ! Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain: For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in Enter King Richard, and QUEEN ; AUMERLE, pain.

Bushy, GREEN, Bagot, Ross, and WillOUGHBY. He, that no more must say, is listen'd more

York. The king is come: deal mildly with his Than they whom youth and ease have taught to

youth ; glose + ;

For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the more. More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before : Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster ? The setting sun, and musick at the close,

K. Rich. What comfort, man? How ist with aged As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last;

Gaunt? Writ in remembrance, more than things long past : Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition ! Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, Old Gaunt, indeed ; and gaunt 6 in being old : My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;

York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds, And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt? As, praises of his state: then, there are found For sleeping England long time bave I watch'd; Lascivious metres ; to whose venom sound

Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt : The open ear of youth doth always listen :

The pleasure that some fathers feed upon, Report of fashions in proud Italy ;

Is my strict fast, I mean - - my children's looks; Whose manners suill our tardy apish nation And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt : Limps after, in base imitation,

Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity, Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,)

K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with their That is not quickly buzz’d into his ears?

names? Then all too late comes counsel to be heard

Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself: Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.

Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee. 'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose, K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new inspir'd;

that live? And thus, expiring, do foretell of him :

Gaunt. No, no; men living flatter those that die. His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last :

K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st - thou flatFor violent fires soon burn out themselves ;

ter'st me. Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short; Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the sicker be. He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes;

K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill. With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder : Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

thee ill; Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.

Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill, This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, Thy death-bed is no lesser than the land, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,

Wherein thou liest in reputation sick : This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

And thou, too careless patient as thou art, This fortress, built by nature for herself,

Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure Against infection, and the hand of war;

Of those physicians that first wounded thee : This happy breed of men, this little world; A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown, This precious stone set in the silver sea,

Whose compass is no bigger than thy head ; Which serves it in the office of a wall,

And yet, incaged in so small a verge, Or as a moat defensive to a house,

The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. Against the envy of less happier lands ;

O, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England, Seen how his son's son should destroy bis sons, This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame; Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth, Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd, Renowned for their deeds as far from home, Which art possess'd now to depose thyself. (For Christian service, and true chivalry,)

Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,

It were a shame to let this land by lease : of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son: But, for thy world, enjoying but this land, • Flatter,

6 Lean, thin.

5 Paltry.

have ;

Is it not more than shame, to shame it so ?

In war, was never lion rag'd more fierce, Landlord of England art thou now, not king : In peace was never gentle lainb more mild, Thy state of law is bondslave to the law;

Than was that young and princely gentleman : And thou

His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,
K. Rich. -a lunatick lean-witted fool, Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours ;
Presuming on an ague's privilege,

But, when he frown'd, it was against the French, Dar’st with thy frozen admonition

And not against his friends : his noble hand Make pale our cheek; chasing the royal blood, Did win what he did spend, and spent not that With fury, from his native residence.

Which his triumphant father's hand had won : Now by my seat's right royal majesty,

His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood, Wert thou not brother to great Edward's son, But bloody with the enemies of his kin. This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, 0, Richard ! York is too far gone with grief, Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders. Or else he never would compare between.

Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter? For that I was his father Edward's son;


O, my liege, That blood already, like the pelican,

Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleas'd Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd : Not to be pardon'd, am content withal. My brother Gloster, plain well-meaning soul, Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, (Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls !) | The royalties and rights oi' banish'd Hereford ? May be a precedent and witness good,

Is not Gaunt dead ? and doth not Hereford live? That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood : Was not Gaunt just? and is not Harry true ? Join with the present sickness that I have;

Did not the one deserve to have an heir ? And thy unkindness be like crooked age,

Is not his heir a well deserving son? To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.

Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! — His charters, and his customary rights ; These words hereafter thy tormentors be,

Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day ; Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:

Be not thyself, for how art thou a king, Love they to live, that love and honour have. But by fair sequence and succession ?

[E.uit, borne out by his Attendants. If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights, K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens Call in the letters patent that he hath

By his attornies-general to sue
For both hast thou, and both become the grave. His livery 8, and deny his offer'd homage,

York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his words You pluck a thousand dangers on your head,
To wayward sick liness and age in him :

You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear And prick my tender patience to those thoughts As Harry duke of Hereford, were he here. Which honour and allegiance cannot think. K. Rich. Right; you say true: as Hereford's love, K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize into

our hands As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is.

His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND.

York. I'll not be by, the while: My liege, fare..

well: North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; your majesty.

But by bad courses may be understood, K. Rich. What says he now?

That their events can never fall out good. (Erit. North.

Nay, nothing; all is said : K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire His tongue is now a stringless instrument;

straight ; Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent. Bid him repair to us to Ely-house,

York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! To see this business : To-morrow next Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. We will for Ireland ; and 'tis time, I trow;

K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; | And we create, in absence of ourself, His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be : Our uncle York lord governor of England, So much for that. Now for our Irish wars : For he is just and always lov'd us well.We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns?; Come on, our queen : to-morrow must we part; Which live like venom, where no venom else, Be merry, for our time of stay is short. (Flourish. But only they, hath privilege to live.

[Exeunt King, QUEEN, BUSHY, AUMERLE, And for these great affairs do ask some charge,

Green, and Bagot. Towards our assistance, we do seize to us

North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is dead. The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,

Ross. And living too; for now his son is duke. Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess’d. Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.

York. How long shall I be patient ? Ah, how long North. Richly in both, if justice had her right. Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong?

Ross. My heart is great ; but it must break with Not Gloster's death, nor Hereford's banishment,

silence, Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke

Norih. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er About his marriage, noi my own disgrace,

speak more, Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face.

Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of I am the last of noble Edward's sons,

Hereford ? Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first; 7 Irish soldiers.

8 Claim posesssion; a law term.

so his:


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