Percy. There ftands the Castle by yond tuft of trees, Mann'd with three hundred men, as I have heard; And in it are the lords, York, Berkley, Seymour; None else of name, and noble estimate.

Enter Rofs and Willoughby.

North. Here comes the lords of Rofs and Willoughby, Bloody with fpurring, fiery-red with hafte.

Boling. Welcome, my lords; I wot, your love purfues A banih'd traitor; all my Treafury

Is yet but unfelt thanks, which, more enrich'd,
Shall be your love and labour's recompence.

Rofs. Your prefence makes us rich, most noble lord.
Willo. And far furmounts our labour to attain it.
Boling. Evermore, thanks, th' exchequer of the

poor,

Which, 'till my infant-fortune comes to years, Stands for my bounty. But who now comes here?

Enter Berkley.

North. It is my lord of Berkley, as I guess. Berk. My lord of Hereford, my meffage is to you. Boling. My lord, my answer is to Lancaster; And I am come to feek that Name in England, And I must find that Title in your tongue, Before I make reply to aught you say.

Berk. Mistake me not, my lord; 'tis not my meaning
To raze one Title of your honour out.
To you, my lord, I come (what lord you will)
From the most glorious of this Land,

The Duke of York, to know what pricks you on
To take advantage of the abfent time.

And fright our native peace with felf-born arms.

9

unprepared.

fynecdoche.

the abfent time,] For He means nothing more than, Not an inelegant time of the king's abfence.

I

WARBURTON.

SCENE

Boling. I fhall not need tranfport my words by you. Here comes his Grace in perfon. Noble Uncle!

[Kneels. York. Shew me thy humble heart, and not thy knee, Whofe duty is deceivable and falfe.

Boling. My gracious uncle!

York. Tut, tut!

Grace me no Grace, nor Uncle me no Uncle:-
I am no traitor's uncle; and that word Grace,
In an ungracious mouth, is but prophane.
Why have those banish'd and forbidden legs
Dar'd once to touch a duft of England's ground?
But more than why; why, have they dar'd to march
So many miles upon her peaceful bofom,

Frighting her pale-fac'd villages with war,

1

And oftentation of defpifed arms?

Com'st thou becaufe th' anointed King is hence?
Why, foolish boy, the King is left behind;
And in my loyal bofom lies his Power.
Were I but now the lord of fuch hot youth,
As when brave Gaunt, thy father, and myself
Refcu'd the Black Prince, that young Mars of men,
From forth the ranks of many thoufand French b;
Oh! then, how quickly fhould this arm of mine,

Now prifoner to the palfie, chaftife thee,
And minifter correction to thy fault.

Boling. My gracious uncle, let me know my fault;
*On what condition ftands it, and wherein?
York. Ev'n in condition of the worft degree;
In grofs Rebellion, and detefted Treafon.
Thou art a banifh'd man, and here art come,
Before the expiration of thy time,

In braving arms against thy Sovereign.
Boling. As I was banifh'd, I was banih'd Hereford;
But as I come, I come for Lancafter.

And, noble uncle, I befeech your Grace,
Look on my wrongs with an indifferent eye.
You are my father; for, methinks, in you
I fee old Gaunt alive: O then, my father!
Will you permit, that I fhall ftand condemn'd
A wand'ring vagabond; my Rights and Royalties
Pluckt from my arms perforce, and giv'n away
To upftart unthrifts? Wherefore was I born?
t
If that my coufin King be King of England,
It must be granted, I am Duke of Lancaster.
You have a fon, Aumerle, my noble Kinfman:
Had you first dy'd, and he been thus trol down,
He fhould have found his uncle Gaunt a father,
To rowze his wrongs, and chafe them to the bay.
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 imploy'd.
What would you have me do? I am a Subject,
And challenge law; attorneys are deny'd me;
And therefore perfonally I lay my Claim

* On what condition.] It fhould be, in what condition. That is, in what degree of guilt. The particles in the old editions are of little credit.

+ Wherefore was I born?] To

what purpofe ferves birth and lineal fucceffion? I am Duke of Lancefier by the fame right of birth as the King is king of Ergland.

To mine Inheritance of free Descent.

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 wrongs, 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 thefe arms; I cannot mend it, I muft needs confefs, Because my Pow'r 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, farewel. Unless you please to enter in the Castle, And there repofe you for this night.

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 Busby, Bagot, and their complices; The caterpillars of the Common-wealth, Which I have fworn to weed, and pluck away. York. It may be, I will go. But yet I'll paufe, 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 paft Care. [Exeunt.

SCENE

Cap.

MX

Y lord of Salisbury, we have ftaid ten days, And hardly kept our Countrymen together, And yet we hear no tidings from the King; Therefore we will disperse ourselves. Farewel. Salif. Stay yet another day, thou trufty Welshman: The King repofeth all his truft 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 heav'n;
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 lofe what they enjoy;
Th' other, in hope t'enjoy by rage and war.
Thefe figns forerun the death of Kings.
Farewel; our countrymen are gone and fled,
As well affur'd, Richard their King is dead. [Exit.
Salif. Ah, Richard, ah! with eyes of heavy mind,
I fee thy Glory, like a fhooting Star,

Here is a fcene fo upartfully and irregularly thruft into an improper place, that I cannot but fufpect it accidentally tranfpofed; which, when the scenes were written on fingle pages, might eafily happen, in the wildnefs of Shakefpeare's drama. This dialogue was, in the authour's draught, probably the fecond fcene of the enfuing act, and there I would advise the reader to infert it, though I have not ventured on fo bold a change. My conjecture is not fo prefumptuous as may be VOL. IV.