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So many miles upon her peaceful bosom;

Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,

And ostentation of despised arms?

Com'st them because the anointed king is hence?

Why, foolish boy, the king is left behind,

And in my loyal bosom lies his power.

Were I but now the lord of such hot youth,

As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself,

Rescued the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,

From forth the ranks of many thousand French;

O, then, how quickly should this arm of mine,

Now prisoner to the palsy, chastise thee,

And minister correction to thy fault!

Baling. 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 raving arms against thy sovereign.

Baling. 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, Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye: You are my father, for, methinks, in you I see old Gaunt alive; O, then, my father! Will you permit that I should stand condemn'd A wand'ring vagabond; my rights and royalties Pluck'd from my arms perforce, and given away To upstart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?

If that my cousin king be king of England,
It must be granted, I am duke of Lancaster.
You have a son, Aumerle, my noble kinsman;
Had you first died, and he been thus trod down,
He should have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rouse his wrongs, and chase them to the bay.
I am denied to sue my livery here,
And yet my letters-patent give me leave :
My father's goods are all distrain'd, and sold;
And these, and all, are all amiss employ'd.
What would you have me do? I am a subject,
And challenge law : Attornies are denied me;
And therefore personally I lay my claim
To my inheritance of free descent.
Morth. 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,
I 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.

Baling. 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

By Bushy, Bagot, and their complices,

The caterpillars of the commonwealth,

Which I have sworn 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 la\rs.

Nor friends, nor foes, to me welcome you are:

Things past redress, are now with me past care.



A Camp 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 disperse ourselves: farewell.

Sal. Stay yet another day, thou trusty Welshman;
The king reposeth all his confidence
In thee.

Cap. Tis thought, the king is dead; we will not


The 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,
Fall to the base earth from the firmament!
Thy sun sets weeping in the lowly west,
Witnessing storms to come, woe, and unrest:
Thy friends are fled, to wait upon thy foes;
And crossly to thy good all fortune goes. [Exit.


Bol'mgbroke's Camp at Bristol.

Enter Bolingbroke, York, Northumberland, Percy, Willoughby, Ross: Officers behind •with Bushy and Green,prisoners.

Baling. Bring forth these men.— Bushy, and Green, I will not vex your souls (Since presently your souls 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 some causes of your death. You have misled a prince, a royal king, A happy gentleman in blood and lineaments, By you unhappied and disfigur'd clean. You have, in manner, with your sinful hours, Made a divorce betwixt his queen and him; Broke the possession of a royal bed, And btain'd the beauty of a fair queen's cheeks With tears drawn from her eyes by your foul wrongs. Myself—a prince, by fortune of my birth; Near to the king in blood; and near in love,

Till you did make him misinterpret me,

Have stoop'd my neck under your injuries,
And sigh'd my English breath in foreign clouds,
Eating the bitter bread of banishment:

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