Sivut kuvina
PDF
ePub

For hork Lord-governor of England:

Our uncle

For he is juft, and always lov'd us well.

Come on, our Queen; to morrow muft we part;
Be merry, for our time of Stay is fhort.

[Flourish. [Exeunt, King, Queen, &c.

S C E NE IV.

Manent Northumberland, Willoughby, and Rofs. North. Well, Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead. Rofs. And living too, fór now his fon is Duke. Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue.

North. Richly in both, if justice had her right. Rofs. My heart is great; but it must break with filence,

Ere't be disburthen'd with a lib'ral tongue.

North. Nay, fpeak thy mind; and let him ne'er
speak more,

That speaks thy words again to do thee harm.
Willo. Tends, what you'd fpeak, to the Duke of
Hereford?

If it be fo, out with it boldly, man:

Quick is mine ear to hear of good towards him.
Rofs. No good at all that I can do for him,
Unless you call it good to pity him,

Bereft and gelded of his patrimony.

North. Now, afore heav'n, it's fhame, fuch wrongs
are borne

In him a royal Prince, and many more
Of noble blood in this declining Land;
The King is not himself, but bafely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform
Merely in hate 'gainst any of us all,
That will the King feverely profecute

'Gainft us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. Rofs. The Commons hath he pill'd with grievous

Taxes,

And

[ocr errors]

And loft their hearts; the Nobles he hath fin'd
For ancient quarrels, and quite loft their hearts.
Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd;
As Blanks, Benevolences, I wot not what?
But what o' God's name doth become of this?
North. Wars have not wafted it, for warr'd he
hath not,

But bafely yielded upon compromife

That, which his Ancestors atchiev'd with blows:
More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars.

Refs. The Earl of Wiltshire hath the Realm in farm.
Willo. The King's grown bankrupt, like a broken

man.

North. Reproach, and diffolution, hangeth over him.
Rofs. He hath not mony for thefe Irish wars,
(His burthenous taxations notwithstanding)
But by the robbing of the banish'd Duke.

North. His noble Kinfman-moft degenerate King!
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet feek no fhelter to avoid the ftorm:

We fee the wind fit fore upon our fails,
And yet we strike not, but fecurely perish.

Rofs. We fee the very wreck, that we must suffer;
And unavoided is the danger now,

For fuff'ring fo the causes of our wreck.

[Death
North. Not fo: ev'n through the hollow eyes of
Ifpy life peering; but I dare not fay,
How near the tidings of our comfort is.

[ours.

Willo. Nay, let us fhare thy thoughts, as thou doft
Rofs. Be confident to fpeak, Northumberland;

We three are but thy felf, and speaking fo,
Thy words are but as thoughts, therefore be bold.
North. Then thus, my friends. I have from Port
le Blanc,

A bay in Bretagne, had intelligence,

That Harry Hereford, Rainald lord Cobham,

That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
D

VOL. IV.

His

His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Rainfton,

Sir John Norberie, Sir Robert Waterton, and Francis
Coines,

All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne,
With eight tall fhips, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience,
And fhortly mean to touch our northern fhore ;
Perhaps, they had ere this; but that they stay
The first departing of the King for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our flavish yoak,
Imp out our drooping Country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking Pawn the blemish'd Crown,
Wipe off the duft that hides our Scepter's gilt,
And make high Majefty look like it self:
Away with me in poft to Ravenfpurg.
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,

Stay, and be fecret, and my felf will go.

[fear.

Rofs. To horfe, to horfe; urge Doubts to them that Willo. Hold out my horfe, and I will first be there.

SCENE V.

The COURT.

Enter Queen, Bushy, and Bagot.

[Exeunt.

Busky. M You promis'd, when you parted with the

Adam, your Majefty is much too fad:

King,

To lay afide felf-harming heavinefs,
And entertain a chearful difpofition.

Queen. To please the King, I did; to please my self,
I cannot do it; yet I know no caufe,
Why I should welcome fuch a guest as grief;
Save bidding farewel to fo fweet a Guest
As my fweet Richard: yet again, methinks,
Some unborn forrow, ripe in fortune's womb,

Is

Is coming tow❜rd me; and my inward foul
With fomething trembles, yet at nothing grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the King.
Bufby. Each fubftance of a grief hath twenty fhadows,
Which fhew like grief it felf, but are not fo:
For forrow's eye, glaz'd with blinding tears,
Divides one thing entire, to many objects;
+ Like Perspectives, which, rightly gaz'd upon,
Shew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry,
Diftinguifh form.--So your fweet Majesty,
Looking awry upon your lord's departure,
Finds fhapes of grief, more than himself, to wail
Which look'd on, as it is, is nought but fhadows
Of what it is not; gracious Queen, then weep not
More than your lord's departure; more's not feen:
Or if it be, 'tis with falfe forrow's eye,
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary.
Queen. It may be fo; but yet my inward foul
Perfuades me otherwife: howe'er it be,

I cannot but be fad; fo heavy-fad,

As, though, on thinking, on no thought I think,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and fhrink.

[ocr errors]

Busby. 'Tis nothing but Conceit, my gracious lady. Queen. 'Tis nothing lefs; Conceit is ftill deriv'd From fome fore-father grief; mine is not fo;

3 With nothing trembles, yet at fomething grieves,] The following line requires that this fhould be read juft the contrary

way,

With fomething trembles, yet at nothing grieves,

4 Like Perfpectives, which rightly gaz'd upon,

Shew nothing but confufion; ey'd awry,

Diftinguifh form.] This is a fine fimilitade, and the thing meant is this. Amongt mathematical recreations, there is one in Optics, in which a figure is drawn, wherein all the rules of Perspective are inverted: fo that, if held in the fame pofition with thofe pictures which are drawn according to the rules of Perfpective, it can prefent nothing but confufion: and to be feen in form, and under a regular Appearance, it must be look'd upon from a contrary ftation: or, as Shakespear fays, ey'd awry.

D 2

For

For nothing hath begot my fomething grief;
Or fomething hath, the nothing that I grieve;
'Tis in reversion That I do poffefs;

But what it is, that is not yet known, what
I cannot name, 'tis nameless woe, I wot.

SC E N E

Enter Green.

VI.

Green. Heav'n fave your Majefty! and well met, gentlemen:

I hope, the King is not yet fhipt for Ireland.

Queen. Why hop'ft thou fo?'tis better hope, he is : For his defigns crave hafte, his hafte good hope: Then wherefore doft thou hope, he is not shipt? Green. That he, our hope, might have retir'd his Power;

And driv'n into defpair an enemy's Hope,
Who ftrongly hath fet footing in this Land.
The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself
And with uplifted arms is fafe arriv'd
At Ravenfpurg.

Queen. Now God in heav'n forbid !

Green, O, Madam, 'tis too true; and what is worse, The lord Northumberland, his young fon Percy, The lords of Rofs, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their pow'rful friends, are fled to him. Busby. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland, And all of that revolted faction, traitors?

Green. We have: whereon the Earl of Worcester Hath broke his staff, refign'd his Stewardship; And all the houfhold fervants fled with him

To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe, And Bolingbroke my forrow's difmal heir:

Now hath my foul brought forth her prodigy,
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,

« EdellinenJatka »