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Gaunt. Sister, farewel; I must to Coventry. As much Good stay with thee, as go with me! Dutch. Yet one word more-grief boundeth where

it falls, Not with the empty hollowness, but weight; I take my leave, before I have begun; For Sorrow ends not, when it feemeth done. Commend me to my brother, Edmund York: Lo, this is all-nay, yet depart not so; Though this be all, do not so quickly go : I shall remember more. Bid him-oh, what? With all good speed at Plafhie visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York see there But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls, Un-peopled offices, untrodden stones ? And what hear there for welcome, but my groans ? Therefore comrnend me,- let him not come there To fe-k out sorrow that dwells every where ; All desolate, will I from hence, and die ; The last Leave of thee takes my weeping eye. (Exeunt.


The Lifts, at Coventry.


Enter the Lord Marshal,' and Aumerle. Mar. Y lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd ?

Aum. Yea, at all points, and longs to

enter in. Mar. The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, Stays but the Summons of th’ Appellant's trumpet. Aum. Why, then the Champions are prepar'd, and

stay For nothing but his Majesty's approach. (Flourish.

Tbe art?

The trumpets found, and the King enters with Gaunt,

Bushy, Bagot, and others : when they are set, Enter the Duke of Norfolk in armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder Champion The cause of his arrival here in arms; Al him his name, and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his Cause. Mar. In God's name and the King's, say who thou

[To Mowbray. And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms ? Against what man thou com'ft, and what thy quarrel ? Speak truly on thy Knighthood, and thine Oath, And so detend thee heaven, and thy valour! Mowb. My name is Tbomas Mowbray, Duke of

Who hither come engaged by my oath,
(Which, heav'n defend, a Knight should violate !)
Both to defend my Loyalty and Truth,
To God, my King, and his succeeding Issue, '
Against the Duke of Hereford, that appeals me ;
And by the grace of God, and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of my felf,
A traitor to my God, my King, and me;
And, as I truly fight, defend me heav'n!
The trumpets found. Enter Bolingbroke, Appellant,

in armour.
K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder Knight in arms,
Both who he is, and why he cometh hither,
Thus plated in habiliments of war ;
And formally, according to our Law,

9 his fucceeding issue,] der, and therefore he might come Such is the reading of the first among other reasons for their folio; the later edicions read my fake, but the old reading is more Iffue. Mozubray's Ifue was, by this jutt and grammatical. accusation, in danger of an attain


Depose him in the justice of his Cause.
Mar. What is thy name, and wherefore com'ít thou

Before King Richard, in his royal Lists ? [To Boling.
Against whom comest thou ? and what's thy Quarrel?
Speak like a true Knight, so defend thee heav'n!

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Darby
Am I, who ready here do stand in arms,
To prove, by heav'n's grace


my body's valour, In Lifts, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk, That he's a traitor foul and dangerous, To God of heav'n, King Richard, and to me ; And, as I truly fight, defend me heav'n!

Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Or daring-hardy, as to touch the Lists, Except the Marshal, and such Officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Boling. Lord Marshal, let me kiss my Sovereign's

hand, And bow my knee before his Majesty : For Mowbray and my self are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage ; Then let us take a ceremonious Leave, And loving Farewel, of our several friends. Mar. Th’Appellant in all duty greets your Highness,

[To K. Rich. And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave.

· K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms.
Cousin of Hereford, as thy Cause is right,
So be thy Fortune in this royal fight!
Farewel, my Blood ; which if to day thou shed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

Boling. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gor’d with Mowbray's spear.
As confident, as is the Faulcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of
you, my noble Cousin, lord Aumerle.



Not sick, although I have to do with Death ;
But lusty, young, and chearly drawing Breath.
Lo, as at English Feasts, so I regreet
The daintiert last, to make the end most sweet :
Oh thou! the earthly author of iny blood, [To Gaunt.
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,
Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up
To reach at Victory above my head,
Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy Blessings steel my Lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen Coat,
And furbish new the Name of Jobn o' Gaunt
Ev'n in the lusty 'haviour of his son. [sperous !

Gaunt. Heav’n in thy good Cause make thee pro-
Be swift like Lightning in the execution,
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the Casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.
Rouze up thy youthful blood, be brave and live.
Boling. Mine innocence, God and St. George to

thrive! Mowb. However heav'n or fortune cast my lot, There lives, or dies, true to King Richard's Throne, A loyal, just and upright Gentleman. Never did Captive with a freer heart Caft off his chains of bondage, and embrace His golden uncontrould enfranchisement, More than my dancing foul doth celebrate This Feast of battle, with mine adversary. Moft mighty Liege, and my companion Peers, Take from my mouth the with of happy years ; As gentle and as jocund, as to jest, . Go I to fight: Truth hath a quiet breast.

K. Rich.

"As gentle and as jocund, as to of sport too.

WareURTON. Jest,] Not so neither. We The fense would perhaps have Thould read, to just, i. e. to been better if the authyur had tilt or tourny, which was a kind written what his commentator


K. Rich. Farewel, my lord ; securely I espy
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
Order the tryal, Marshal, and begin.

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Receive thy Lance; and heav'n defend thy Right!

Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry Amen.
Mar. Go bear this Lance to Thomas Duke of Norfolk.

i Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, Stands here for God, his Sovereign and Himself, On pain to be found false and recreant, To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, A traitor to his God, his King, and him ; And dares him to set forward to the fight. 2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of

Norfolk, On pain to be found false and recreant, Both to defend himself, and to approve Henry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, To God, his Sovereign, and to him, disloyal : Courageously, and with a free desire, Attending but the Signal to begin. [A Charge founded. Mar. Sound, Trumpets ; and set forward, Com

batants. -But stay, the King hath thrown his warder down. K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their

And Both return back to their chairs again.
Withdraw with us, and let the trumpets found,
While we return these Dukes what we decree.

[A long Flouris ; after which, the King

Speaks to the Combatants.
Draw near;
And lift, what with our Council we have done.
For that our Kingdom's earth should not be foil'd
With that dear blood, which it hath foftered ;

substitutes, but the rhyme to obliged Shakespeare to write jeft, which feuse is too often enslaved, and obliges us to read it.


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