Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrow's eye, As,-though, in thinking, on no thought I think,— But what it is, that is not yet known; what Enter Green. Green. God save your majesty!-and well met, gentlemen: I hope, the king is not yet shipp'd for Ireland. Queen. Why hop'st thou so? 'tis better hope, he is; For his designs crave haste, his haste good hope; Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not shipp'd? Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his power, And driven into despair an enemy's hope, Who strongly hath set footing in this land: Queen. Now God in heaven forbid ! Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry Percy, The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powerful friends, are fled to him. Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland, Vol. 3. And all the rest of the revolting faction Traitors? Green. We have: whereon the earl of Worcester Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, And all the household servants fled with him To Bolingbroke. Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my woe, And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir: Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy; Have woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow join'd. I will despair, and be at enmity Who shall hinder me? 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; O, full of careful business are his looks!— Uncle, For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts: Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth, Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief. Your husband he is gone to save far off, Whilst others come to make him lose at home: Enter a Servant. Serv. My lord, your son was gone before I came. York. He was?-Why, so!-go all which way it will!- The nobles they are fled, the commons cold, Get thee to Plashy, to my sister Gloster; Bid her send me presently a thousand pound :- Serv. My lord, I had forgot to tell your lordship : Serv. An hour before I came, the duchess died. Tork. God for his mercy! what a tide of woes Comes rushing on this woeful land at once! I know not what to do:-I would to God, (So my untruth had not provok❜d him to it,) The king had cut off my head with my brother's.— What, are there posts despatch'd for Ireland?— How shall we do for money for these wars? 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. [Exit Servant. Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know How, or which way, to order these affairs, Thus thrust disorderly into my hands, Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen ;The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend; the other again, Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd; Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, I'll Dispose of you :-Go, muster up your men, And meet me presently at Berkley-castle. I should to Plashy too ; But time will not permit :-All is uneven, [Exeunt York and Queen. Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland, But none returns. For us to levy power, Proportionable to the enemy, Is all impossible. Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, Is near the hate of those love not the king. Bagot. And that's the wavering commons: for their love Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally con demn'd. Bagot. If judgement lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king. Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol cas tle; The earl of Wiltshire is already there. Bushy. Thither will I with you: for little office The hateful commons will perform for us; Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.Will you go along with us? Bagot. No; I'll to Ireland to his majesty. Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, We three here part, that ne'er shall meet again. Bushy. That's as York thrives to beat back Boling broke. Green. Alas, poor duke! the task he undertakes Is-numb'ring sands, and drinking oceans dry; Where one on his side fights, thousands will fly. Bushy. Farewell at once; for once, for all, and ever. Green. Well, we may meet again. Baget. I fear me, never. [Exeunt. SCENE III-The Wilds in Glostershire. Enter Bol- I am a stranger here in Glostershire. And hope to joy, is little less in joy, Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords North. It is my son, young Harry Percy, Percy. I had thought, my lord, to have learn'd his North. Why, is he not with the queen? Percy. No, my good lord; he hath forsook the court, Broken his staff of office, and dispers'd. The household of the king. What was his reason? North. He was not so resolv'd, when last we spake together. Percy. Because your lordship was proclaimed traitors But he, my lord, is gone to Ravenspurg, |