RICHARD

Good Faukenbridge I thank thee. Go to their places. Pardon gracious father, & th'furtheraunce for my vow of penance For I have sworn to God and all his Saints, These arms erected in rebellious brawls, Against my Father and my Sovereign, Shall fight the battles of the Lord of hosts, In wronged Judea and Palestina, That shall be Richard's penance for his pride, His blood a satisfaction for his sin, His patrimony men, munition, And means to waft them into Siria. You cannot right your self. Not with your help but honourable youth Have ye performed the business I enjoined? Lady here's my hand, I did but try your honourable faith Sir Richard? His right hands lose, and that is such a lose, As England may lament, all Christians weep. That hand hath been aduanst against the Moors, Driven out the Sarasins from Gads and Cicile, Fought fifteen Battles under Christ's read cross, And is it not (think you) a grievous lose, That for a slave (and for no other harm) It should be sundered from his Princely Arm? Both John and I have served your will too long; Mother repent your cruelty and wrong: Gloucester you know is full of mirth and glee, And never else did your grace injury. He that stirs for him shall lay down his head. What meanest thou Gloucester? A shame confound thee for thy treachery, Inconstant dotard, timorous old ass, That shakes with cowardice not with years. Heaven prosper thee sweet Prince in thy escape. Take heed spite burst not in his proper gall. We do believe you sir; nor do you think My brother John deceived you of a chain. Fellow, thou spakest even now, as if prince John Had been at some old Tavern in the town. Gloucester hath done this jest. But look about you, hight brained brother John, And I believe you'll find it otherwise, Gloucester hath God the warrant in disguise, And saved the fellow you so feign would hang. For bear I pray and with draw your selves. Be not offended gracious Marrian, Exeunt Music. Under the upper heaven, nine goodly spheres, Turn with a motion ever musical, In Palaces of Kings, meliodious found Offer pleasures to there sovereigns ears. In Temples, milk white clothed queristors, Sing sacred Anthems bowing to the shrine, And in the fields whole quires of winged clerks, Salutes the morning bright and Crystalline, Then blame not me, you are my heaven, my Queen, My saint, my comfort, brighter then the morn, To you all music, and all praise is endue. For your delight you for delight was born, The world would have no mirth, no joy, no day, If from the world your beauty were away. What would you I should do? Shall love be my reward if I do bring A certain token of his good estate. And after pacyfie my brother's wrath? Say you'll love, we'll be fortunate, Oh that I were as large winged as the wind, Then should you see my expeditious will: My most desire, adieu, guess by my haste, Of your sweet promise the delicious taste. Exit. I saw two men attend Like holy Hermit's, One's slipped away, the other at his beads, Now Richard for the love of Marian, Make thy inquiry where mad Gloucester lives. If England or the verge of Scotland hold him, I'll seek him thus disguised: if he be passed To any foreign partly; isle follow him. Love thou art Lord of hearts, thy laws are sweet, In every troubled way, thou guidst our feet. Lovers enjoined to pass the dangerous Sea Of big swollen sorrow, in the Bark affection; The winds and waves of woe needs never fear, While Love, the helm does Like a Pylate steer. What's this? what should this mean? old man, good friend I thought thou hadst been holy and a Hermit. There it is. Thou'lt have a heavy heart before thou touch it, Theft shrinde in holy weeds? stand to't you're best. Art thou content to breath? Fight & partly once or twice I will not cherish theft. Alas for pity, that so stout a man, So reverend in aspect, should take this course. Fellow take the purse upon condition thou wilt follow me You were not wont young Huntington, still on Richard's side I tell thee Robin Gloucester thou art met, Bringing such comfort unto Richard's heart. As in the foil of war when dust and sweat, The thirst of weak, and the Suns fiery heat, Have seazd upon the soul of valiance, And he must faint except he be refreshed. To me thou comest as if to him should come, A perry from the North, whose frosty breath Might fan him coolness in that doubt of death. With me then meets, as he a spring might meet, Cooling the earth under his toil partcht feet, Whose crystal moisture in his Helmit taine, Comforts his spirits, makes him strong again. Come Robin, and if my brother's grace deny, I'll take thy part, them and their threats defy, I'll carry it my self, but I had rather Had thy kind company, thou mightest have moved Thy Sister, whom I long have vainly loved, I Like thy honourable resolution, Gloucester I pray thee pardon my entreat, Nay then you wrong me Lady Faukenbridge, Did you not join your fair white hand? Swore that you would forswear your husbands bed, If I could but find out Gloucester? By heaven What meanest thou Huntington? Go to, provoke me not. Was I deluded then? Thanks sacred Mistress. Your Tavern? Revenged, and why good child? Old Faukenbridge hath had a worse basting. Come John, take hand with virtuous Isabel, And lets unto the Court Like loving friends, Our Kingly brother's birth days festival, Is forthwith to be kept, thither we'll hie, And grace with pomp that great solemnity. Then will I to Court, & either set him free, or die the death, Follow me Faukenbridge, fear not fair Madam: You said you had the Porter in your house, Some of your servants bring him, on my life One hair shall not be taken from his head, Nor he, nor you, nor Gloucester injured. Richard the Prince of England, with his Ward The noble Robert Hood, Earl Huntington, Present their service to your Majesty. Oh be more charitable brother John. Now man: Leister tweare Good you proved his Champion. I'll fill it Henry. K. kneel down. Thou hast done worse then, Like rebelly us head, Hast armed ten thousand hands against his life That loved thee so, as thou Wertenberg made a King, Being his child, now he's thy underling. I have done worse: thrice I drew my sword, In three set battles for thy false defence. John hath done worse, he still hath took thy partly, All of us three have smit our father's heart; Which made proud Leister bold to strike his face, To his eternal shame, and our disgrace. Brother? H'ath sired my soul I will to Palestine, And pay my vows before the Sepulcher, Among the multitude of misbelief. I'll show my self the Soldier of Christ, Spend blood, sweat tears, for satisfaction Of many many sins which I lament: And never think to have them pardoned, Till I have partly of Syria conquered. King too. Nay stay good Faukenbridge, impute it rage, That thus abuses your right reverend age, My brother's are too hight. Nay good Sir Richard at my kind entreat For all the love I bear your noble house, Let not your absence kindle further wrath, Each side's at counsel now fit down I pray, I'll quite it with the kindest love I may. Brother you ask too much. Be more respective John. It is indeed. Shift for thy self good Skinke, ther's gold, away: Here will be parts. Commend me to her gentle Huntington, Tell her in these affairs I'll stand her friend, Her brother shall not long be prisoner: Say I will visit her immediately. Be gone sweet boy to Marian Faukenbridge, Thou lookest Like love persuade her to be loving. I prithee John forbear. How now fair Madam who hath angered you? I had thought my Ward young Huntington had vexed you We'll fit him well enough, second us Robin. Madam, what you desire I not deny, But promise Gloucesters life and liberty, I beg but love. Nay but sweet Lady. And since I see your virtue so confirmed, as vice can have no entrance in your heart, I vow in sighed of heaven never again, To move Like question but for love, Sir Richard, first make suit unto my father, I'll follow you to Court and second you, He's Jelious, but I must observe the time, We'll ride unto the Court, I'll leave my boy Till we return, are you agreed to this? Solicitie Robin, Lady give good ear, And of your brother's freedom never fear, You are to strict, Earl Gloucesters fault Merits not death, Be not suspicious where there is no cause, Fie, leave these idle braules, I prithee John Lets follow that we are enjoined unto. By my Knighthood I'll prove true. Exit Gloucester. Keep the Kings peace, I see you are both deceived, He that was last hear, was not Faukenbridge. Nay calm this fury, lets down to the Tavern, Or one, or both, these counterfeits are there. It is this Skinke that mocks us I believe. It makes me laugh at envious greediness, Who feeds upon her own hearts bitterness. Gloucester, thou wilt be too too venturous, Thou dost delight in those odd humours so, That much I fear they'll be thy overthrown. aside. Why gentle Jeffrey then stay you awhile, What can you say, if you come to your book? I cannot choose but smile at these conseites. Sir Richard, I prithee have some patience. Would mad Earl Robin saw these humouristes. Twol'd feed him fat with Laughter; Oh twold fit him, Where ever he is, I know the bore consaite Is better to him than his daintiest food, Well, and it fits me well, now I have time, To coort my Lady Faukenbridge at leisure, Love I implore thy aid fair Cyprian, Thou seaborn mother at affections ring, Shine brightly in thy sphere, that at my star, My planet thou of all lights most beauteous, Be thou to my desires Auspicious. Exit. No more, I vow to die unblest If I perform not this inposed quest, But one word Madam pray can you tell, Where Huntington my ward is? Is Gloucester taken? Mother you are unjust, savage, too cruel, Unlike a woman: gentleness guides their sex, But you to furies fire and more fuel, The vexed spirit, will you delight to vex? Oh God when I consaite what you have done, I am a shamed to be esteemed your son. Thou shalt have mine the ̄ . Gloste radieu. Who hurt thee fellow? I doubt not but it's Skinke. I am glad he is imployde in your affairs, Farewell kind fair, let one cloudy frown Shadow the bright sun of thy beauty's light. Be confident in this, isle find thy brother, Raise power but we'll have peace, only perform Your gracious promise at my back return. Marian I see thy virtue, and commend it, I know my error seeking thy dishonour, But the respectless, reasonless command Of my inflamed love, bids me still try, And trample under foot all piety. Yet for I will not seem too impyous, Too inconsiderate of thy seeming grief, Vouchsafe to be my Mistress: use me kindly, And I protest isle strive with all my power, That lust himself may in his heat devour. Is the jest so? nay then let us away. Good Gloucester Crown thee with thy Coronet. I hope he's far enough, and free enough: Yet these conseytes I know delight his soul. And what of your box sir. Take heed mad Cuz. Exeunt. Follow Huntington: sir Rich. do not fail to send the Porter. Drink that, farewell,