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Gree. Heauen saue your Maiesty, and wel met Gentlemen: I hope the King is not yet shipt for Ireland
Qu. Why hop'st thou so? Tis better hope he is: For his designes craue hast, his hast good hope, Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipt?
Gre. That he our hope, might haue retyr'd his power, and driuen into dispaire an enemies hope, Who strongly hath set footing in this Land.
The banish'd Bullingbrooke repeales himselfe, And with vp-lifted Armes is safe arriu'd At Rauenspurg
Qu. Now G.o.d in heauen forbid
Gr. O Madam 'tis too true: and that is worse, The L[ord]. Northumberland, his yong sonne Henrie Percie, The Lords of Rosse, Beaumond, and Willoughby, With all their powrefull friends are fled to him
Bush. Why haue you not proclaim'd Northumberland And the rest of the reuolted faction, Traitors?
Gre. We haue: whereupon the Earle of Worcester Hath broke his staffe, resign'd his Stewardship, And al the houshold seruants fled with him to Bullinbrook Qu. So Greene, thou art the midwife of my woe, And Bullinbrooke my sorrowes dismall heyre: Now hath my soule brought forth her prodegie, And I a gasping new deliuered mother, Haue woe to woe, sorrow to sorrow ioyn'd
Bush. Dispaire not Madam
Qu. Who shall hinder me?
I will dispaire, and be at enmitie With couzening hope; he is a Flatterer, A Parasite, a keeper backe of death, Who gently would dissolue the bands of life, Which false hopes linger in extremity.
Gre. Heere comes the Duke of Yorke
Qu. With signes of warre about his aged necke, Oh full of carefull businesse are his lookes: Vncle, for heauens sake speake comfortable words: Yor. Comfort's in heauen, and we are on the earth, Where nothing liues but crosses, care and greefe: Your husband he is gone to saue farre off, Whilst others come to make him loose at home: Heere am I left to vnder-prop his Land, Who weake with age, cannot support my selfe: Now comes the sicke houre that his surfet made, Now shall he try his friends that flattered him.
Enter a seruant.
Ser. My Lord, your sonne was gone before I came
Yor. He was: why so: go all which way it will: The n.o.bles they are fled, the Commons they are cold, And will I feare reuolt on Herfords side.
Sirra, get thee to Plashie to my sister Gloster, Bid her send me presently a thousand pound, Hold, take my Ring
Ser. My Lord, I had forgot To tell your Lordship, to day I came by, and call'd there, But I shall greeue you to report the rest
Yor. What is't knaue?
Ser. An houre before I came, the Dutchesse di'de
Yor. Heau'n for his mercy, what a tide of woes Come rushing on this wofull Land at once?
I know not what to do: I would to heauen (So my vntruth had not prouok'd him to it) The King had cut off my head with my brothers.
What, are there postes dispatcht for Ireland?
How shall we do for money for these warres?
Come sister (Cozen I would say) pray pardon me.
Go fellow, get thee home, prouide some Carts, And bring away the Armour that is there.
Gentlemen, will you muster men?
If I know how, or which way to order these affaires Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Neuer beleeue me. Both are my kinsmen, Th' one is my Soueraigne, whom both my oath And dutie bids defend: th' other againe Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd, Whom conscience, and my kindred bids to right: Well, somewhat we must do: Come Cozen, Ile dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster vp your men, And meet me presently at Barkley Castle: I should to Plashy too: but time will not permit, All is vneuen, and euery thing is left at six and seuen.
Bush. The winde sits faire for newes to go to Ireland, But none returnes: For vs to leuy power Proportionable to th' enemy, is all impossible
Gr. Besides our neerenesse to the King in loue, Is neere the hate of those loue not the King
Ba. And that's the wauering Commons, for their loue Lies in their purses, and who so empties them, By so much fils their hearts with deadly hate
Bush. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd Bag. If iudgement lye in them, then so do we, Because we haue beene euer neere the King
Gr. Well: I will for refuge straight to Bristoll Castle, The Earle of Wiltshire is alreadie there
Bush. Thither will I with you, for little office Will the hatefull Commons performe for vs, Except like Curres, to teare vs all in peeces: Will you go along with vs?
Bag. No, I will to Ireland to his Maiestie: Farewell, if hearts presages be not vaine, We three here part, that neu'r shall meete againe
Bu. That's as Yorke thriues to beate back Bullinbroke Gr. Alas poore Duke, the taske he vndertakes Is numbring sands, and drinking Oceans drie, Where one on his side fights, thousands will flye
Bush. Farewell at once, for once, for all, and euer.
Well, we may meete againe
Bag. I feare me neuer.
Enter the Duke of Hereford, and Northumberland.
Bul. How farre is it my Lord to Berkley now?
Nor. Beleeue me n.o.ble Lord, I am a stranger heere in Gloustershire, These high wilde hilles, and rough vneeuen waies, Drawes out our miles, and makes them wearisome.
And yet our faire discourse hath beene as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable: But I bethinke me, what a wearie way From Rauenspurgh to Cottshold will be found, In Rosse and Willoughby, wanting your companie, Which I protest hath very much beguild The tediousnesse, and processe of my trauell: But theirs is sweetned with the hope to haue The present benefit that I possesse; And hope to ioy, is little lesse in ioy, Then hope enioy'd: By this, the wearie Lords Shall make their way seeme short, as mine hath done, By sight of what I haue, your n.o.ble Companie
Bull. Of much lesse value is my Companie, Then your good words: but who comes here?
Enter H[arry]. Percie.
North. It is my Sonne, young Harry Percie, Sent from my Brother Worcester: Whence soeuer.
Harry, how fares your Vnckle?
Percie. I had thought, my Lord, to haue learn'd his health of you
North. Why, is he not with the Queene?
Percie. No, my good Lord, he hath forsook the Court, Broken his Staffe of Office, and disperst The Household of the King
North. What was his reason?
He was not so resolu'd, when we last spake together
Percie. Because your Lordship was proclaimed Traitor.
But hee, my Lord, is gone to Rauenspurgh, To offer seruice to the Duke of Hereford, And sent me ouer by Barkely, to discouer What power the Duke of Yorke had leuied there, Then with direction to repaire to Rauenspurgh
North. Haue you forgot the Duke of Hereford (Boy.) Percie. No, my good Lord; for that is not forgot Which ne're I did remember: to my knowledge, I neuer in my life did looke on him
North. Then learne to know him now: this is the Duke
Percie. My gracious Lord, I tender you my seruice, Such as it is, being tender, raw, and young, Which elder dayes shall ripen, and confirme To more approued seruice, and desert