I am deny'd to fue my livery here,

And yet my letters-patents give me leave :
My father's goods are all diftrain'd, and fold;
And these, and all, are all amifs employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law: Attornies are deny'd me;
And therefore perfonally I lay my claim

To my inheritance of free defcent.

North. The noble duke hath been too much abus'd.
Rofs. It ftands your grace upon, to do him right.
Willo. Bafe men by his endowments are made great.
York. My lords of England, let me tell you this,
I have had feeling of my coufin'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,
Cherifh rebellion, and are rebels all.

North. The noble duke hath fworn, his coming is
But for his own: and, for the right of that,
We all have ftrongly fworn to give him aid;
And let him ne'er fee joy, that breaks that oath.
York. Well, well, I fee the iffue 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,
I would attach you all, and make you stoop
Unto the fovereign mercy of the king;
But, fince I cannot, be it known to you,
I do remain as neuter. So, fare you well ;-
Unless you pleafe to enter in the castle,
And there repofe you for this night.

k by bis endowments]-through his poffeffions bestowed on them.

Boling.

Boling. An offer, uncle, that we will accept.
But we must win your grace, to go with us
To Bristol castle; which, they fay, is held
By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,
The caterpillars of the commonwealth,

Which I have fworn to weed, and pluck away.

York. It may be, I will go with you :-but yet I'll pause; For I am loath to break our country's laws.

Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are:
Things paft redress, are now with me past care. [Exeunt.

A C T III.

SCENE I.

Bolingbroke's Camp at Bristol,

Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Rofs, Percy, Willoughby, with Bushy and Green, prisoners.

Boling. Bring forth these men.

Bufhy, and Green, I will not vex your fouls
(Since presently your fouls must part your bodies)
With too much urging your pernicious lives,
For 'twere no charity: yet, to wash your blood
From off my hands, here, in the view of men,
I will unfold fome causes of
your death.

You have mifled a prince, a royal king,

A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments,
By you unhappy'd and disfigur'd' clean.

You have, in manner, with your " finful hours,
Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him;

1 clean.]-totally.

finful bours,]-pernicious counfels, opportunities wickedly em

ployed.

Broke

Broke the poffeffion of a royal bed,

And ftain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks
With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs.
Myfelf-a prince, by fortune of my birth;
Near to the king in blood; and near in love,
'Till you did make him mifinterpret me,→→→→→
Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And figh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment:
Whilft you have fed upon my " fignories,
Difpark'd my parks, and fell'd my foreft woods;
From mine own windows torn my houfhold coat,
Raz'd out my impress, leaving me no fign,-
Save men's opinions, and my living blood,-
To fhew the world I am a gentleman.

This, and much more, much more than twice all this,
Condemns you to the death :-See them deliver'd over
To execution and the hand of death.

Busby. More welcome is the ftroke of death to me, Than Bolingbroke to England.Lords, farewell. Green. My comfort is, that heaven will take our fouls, And plague injuftice with the pains of hell.

Boling. My lord Northumberland, fee them difpatch'd.

Uncle, you fay, the queen is at your house;
For heaven's fake, fairly let her be entreated:
Tell her, I fend to her my kind commends;
Take special care my greetings be deliver❜d.
York. A gentleman of mine I have dispatch'd
With letters of your love to her at large,

Boling. Thanks, gentle uncle,-*Come, my lords, away; A while to work, and, after, holiday.

n

fignories,]-lordships.

Come, my lords, acvay,

imprefs,]-motto.

(Te fght with Clendower and bis complices)
Aabile to work, and, after, buliday.

[Exeunt.

SCENE

SCENE II,

In Wales.

Enter Salisbury, and a Captain.

Cap. My lord of Salisbury, we have staid ten days, And hardly kept our countrymen together,

And yet we hear no tidings from the king;
Therefore we will difperfe ourselves: farewell.
Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trufty Welshman;
The king reposeth all his confidence in thee.

Cap. 'Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not stay.
The bay-trees in our country all are wither'd,
And meteors fright the fixed ftars of heaven;
The pale-fac'd moon looks bloody on the earth,
And lean-look'd prophets whisper fearful change;
Rich men look fad, and ruffians dance and leap,-
The one, in fear to lose what they enjoy,
The other, to enjoy by rage and war:
Thefe figns forerun the death of kings-
Farewell; our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well affur'd, Richard their king is dead.

Sal. Ah, Richard! with eyes of heavy mind,
I fee thy glory, like a shooting star,
Fall to the base earth from the firmament!
Thy fun fets weeping in the lowly weft,
Witneffing ftorms to come, woe, and unreft:
Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes;
And crossly to thy good all fortune goes.

[Exit.

[Exeunt.

to enjoy by rage and war :-in hopes of enjoying by rapine and violence.

SCENE

SCENE III.

The Coast of Wales. A Caftle in View.

Flourish: drums and trumpets.

Enter King Richard, Aumerle, Bishop of Carlisle, and Soldiers.

K. Rich. Barkloughly castle call you this at hand? Aum. Yea, my lord: How brooks your grace the air, After your late toffing on the breaking feas?

K. Rich. Needs muft I like it well; I weep for joy, To ftand upon my kingdom once again.

Dear earth, I do falute thee with my hand,

Though rebels wound thee with their horfes' hoofs:
As a long-parted mother from her child

Plays fondly with her tears, and smiles in 'meeting;
So, weeping, fmiling, greet I thee, my earth,
And do thee favour with my royal hands.
Feed not thy fovereign's foe, my gentle earth,
Nor with thy fweets comfort his rav'nous fenfe :
But let thy fpiders, that fuck up thy venom,
And heavy-gaited toads, lie in their way;
Doing annoyance to the treacherous feet,
Which with ufurping fteps do trample thee.
Yield ftinging nettles to mine enemies :
And when they from thy bofom pluck a flower,
'Guard it, I pray thee, with a lurking adder;
Whose double tongue may with a mortal touch
Throw death upon thy fovereign's enemies.
Mock not my fenfelefs conjuration, lords;
This earth fhall have a feeling, and thefe ftones

weeping.

Guard it,]-Place an adder there by way of guard.