YORK

Vex not your self, nor strive not with your breath, For all in vain comes counsel to his are. No, it is stopped with other flattering foundes. As praises of wh see taste the wise are found Lascivious meeter to whose venom found The open ear of youth does always listen. Report of fashions in proud Italy, Whose manners still our tardy apish nation Limps after in base I itation: Where does the world that ust forth a vanity. So it be new, theres no respect how vile, That is not quickly buzd into his ears? Then all too late comes counsel to be herd, Where will does mutiny with wits regard: Direct not him whose way himself will choose. 'Tis breath thou lackest and that breath wilt thou lose. The King is come, deal mildly with his youth, For young hight colts being ragde, do rage the more. I do beseech your Majesty, impute his words To wayward sickliness and age in him, He loves you on my life, and holds you deer, As Harry Duke of Hereford were he here. Be York the next that must be bankrout so Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. How long shall I be patient? ah how long Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Not Gloucesters death, nor Herefords banishment, Nor Gaunts robukes, not England's private wrongs, Nor the prevention or poor Bulling brook, About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, Have ever made me Sour my patient cheek, Or bend one wrinckie on my sovereigns face: I am the last of noble Edwards sons, Of whom thy father Prince of Wales uva first In war was never Lion ragde more fierce, In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, Then was that young and princely Gentleman: His face thou hast, for even so looked he, Accomplished with a number of thy hours; But when he frowned it was against the french, And not against his friends: his noble hand Did win what he did spend, and spent not that Which triumphant father's hand had wone e: His hands were guilty of no kin ed blood, But bloody with the enemies of his kin: O Richard: York is too far gone with grief, Or else he never would compare between. O my liege, pardon me if you please, If not I pleased not to be pardoned, am content with all, Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands The royalties and rights of banished Hereford: Is not Gaunt dead? and does not Here ford live? Was not Gaunt joust? and is not Harry true? Did not the one deserve to have and heir? Is not his heir a well deserving son? Take Herefordes rights away, and take from time His charters and his cust omarie rights; Let not to morrow then ensue to Dam e: Be not thy self. For how a to thou a King But by fair sequence and succession? Now afore God God forbid I say true, If you do wrongfully seize Herefords rights, Call in the letters patents that he hath By his attourneies general to sue His livery, and deny his offered homage, You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, You lose a thousand well disposed hearts, And prick my tender patience to those thoughts. Which honour, and allegiance cannot think. I'll not be by the while, my liege farewell, What will ensue hereof the none can tell: But by bade courses may be understood That their events can never fallen out good. Should I do so I should belly my thoughts, Comfort's in heaven, and we are on the earth, Where nothing lives but c osses, cares and grief: Your husband, he is gone to save far off, While others come to make him lose at home: Here am I lef to underprop his land, Who weak with age cannot support my self, Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made, Now shall he try his friends that flattered him. He was; why so go all which way it will: The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold, And will (I fear) reuolton Herefords side. S rram, get thee to Plashy to my sister Gloucester, Bid her send me presently a thousand pound, Hold take my ring. What is't knave? 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 provoked him to it) The King had cut off my head with my brother's. Wh to are there no Posts dispatched for Ireland? H w shall we do for money for these wars? Come sister, cousin I would say, pray pardon me: Go fellow get thee home, provide some carts, And bring away the armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you go muster men? If I know how or which way to order these affairs Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Never believe me: both are my kinsmen. Tone is my sovereign, whom both my oath And duty bids defend; tother again Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wronged, Whom conscience, and my kindred bids to right. Well somewhat we must do: Come cousin, I'll dispose of you: Gentlemen, go muster up your men, And meet me presently at Barkly: I sho ld to Plashy too, but time will not permit: All is uneven, and every thing is left at six and seven. Show me thy humbl heart, and not thy knee, Whose duty is deceivable and false. Even in condition of the worst degree, In gross rebelli n and detested treason, Thou art a banished man and here art come, Before the expiration of thy time, In bram ng arms against thy sovereign. My Lords of England, let me tell you this: I have had feeling of my cou inns wrongs, And laboured 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 wrong it may not be: And you that do abet him in this kind, Cherish rebellion, and are rebels all. Well well I see the issue of these arms, I cannot mend it I must needs confess, Because my power 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 sovereign mercy of the king; But since I cannot, be it known unto you, I do remain as neuter, so fare you well, Unless you please to enter in the castle, And there repose you for this night. It may be I will go with you, but yet I'll pause, For I am loath to break our countries laws Nor friends, nor foes to me welcome you are: Things passed redress, are now with me passed care. A gentleman of mine I have dispatched, With letters of your love to her at large. It would beseem the Lord Northumberland To say King Richard; alack the heavy day, When such a sacred King should his head. The time hath been, would you have been so brief with him, He would have been so brief to shorten you, For taking so the head. your whole heads length: Take not (good cousin) further then you should, Lest you mistake the heavens are over our heads. Yet looks he Like a King, behold his eye. As bright as is the Eagles, lightens forth Controlling majesty; alack alack for woe, That any harm should stain so fair a show. Great Duke of Lancaster I come to thee; From plume-plucked Richard, who with willing soul, Adopts the heir, and his high sceptre yields, To the possession of thy royal hand: Ascend his throne, descending now from him, And long live Henry fourth of that name. Where did I leave? As in a Theater the eyes of men, After a well-graced Actor leaves the stage, Are ydly bent on him that enters next, Thinking his prattle to be edious; Even so, or with much more contempt men's eyes Did scowl on gentle Ric. no man cried, God save him, No joyful tongue gave him his welcome home, But dust was thrown upon his Which with such gentle sorrow he shook off, His face still combating with tears and smiles, The badges of his grief and patience, That had not God for some strong purpose steeled The hearts of men, they must perforce have melted, But heaven hath a hand in these events, To whose high will we bound our calm contents, To Bullingbrook are we sworn subjects now, Whose state and honour I for ay allow. Aumerle that was, But that is lost, for being Richard's friend: And Madam, you must call him Rutland now: I am in parliament pledge for his truth And lasting fealty to the new made king. Well, bear you well in this new spring of time, Lest you be cropped before you come to prime. What news from Oxford, do these jousts & triumph hs hold? you will be there I know. What seal is that that hangs without thy bosom? yea, lookest thou pale? let me see the writing, No matter then who see it, I will be satisfied, let me see the writing. Which for some reasons sir I mean to see. I fear I fear. Bound to himself; what does he with a bound That he is bound to. Wife, thou art a fool: Boy, let me see the writing. I will be satisfied, let me see it I say: Treason, foul treason, villain, traitor slave, Ho, who is within there? saddle my horse, God or his mercy! what treachery is here? Give me my boots I say, saddle my horse Now by mine honour, by my life, by my troth I will appeach the villain. Peace foolish woman. If thou do pardon whosoever pray, More sins for this forgiveness prosper may: This festered joint cut off, the rest rest found, This let alone will all the rest confound. Thou frantic woman, what dost thou make here? Shall thy old dugs once more a traitor rear? Good aunt stand up. Tut tut, grace me no grace, nor uncle me no uncle, I am no traitors Uncle, and that word Grace In and ungracious mouth is but profane: Why have those banished and forbidden legs, Dard once to touch a dust of England's ground: Put then more why? why have they dard to march So many miles upon her peaceful boso e, Frighting her pale faced villadges with war, And ostentation of despised arms? Comest thou because the anointed king is hence? Why soolish boy the King is left behind, And in my loyal bosom lies his power, Were I but now Lord of such hight youth, As when b ave Gaunt thy father and my self Rescued the black prince that young Mars of men From forth the ranks of many thousand french, Oh then how quickly should this arm of mine, Now prisoner to the Palsy chastise thee, And minister correction to thy fault! Give me my boots I say. Thou found mad woman, Wilt thou conceal this dark conspiracy? A dozen of them here have taken the sacrament: And interchangeably set down there hands, To kill the king at Oxford. Away found woman, were he twenty times my son. I would appeach him. Make way un ulie woman. My liege beware, look to thy self, Thou hast a Traitor in thy presence there. Peruse this writtng here, and thou shalt know, The treason that my haste forbids me show. It was (vilaine) ere thy hand did set it down. I tore it from the traitors bosom (King,) Fear, and not love, begets his penitence: Forget to pity him, lest thy pity prove, A Serpent that will sting thee to the heart. So shall my virtue, be his vices bawd, And he shall spend mine honour, with his shame, As thriftless sons, their scraping Father's gold: Mine honour lives when his dishonour die. Or my shamed life in his dishonour lies, Thou killest me in his life giving him breath, The traitor lives, the true man's put to death. Then (as I said) the Duke great Bullingbrook Mounted upon a hight and fiery steed, Which his aspiring rider seemed to know, With slow, but stately pace kept on his course, While all tongues cried, God save the Bullingbrook, You would have thought the very oh many greedy looks of young and old Through casements darted their desiring eyes Upon his visage, and that all the uva less With painted imagery had said at once, Jesu preserve the welcome Bullingbrook, While he from the one side to the other turning Bareheaded, lower than his proud steeds ne ke Bespoke them thus; I thank you country men: And thus still doing thus he passed along. Bring me my boots, I will unto the King. Open the door, secure fool, hardy King, Shall I for love speak treason to thy face, Open the door, or I will break it open. Against them both my true joints bent be, Ill mayest thou thrive if thou grant any grace. Speak it in French, King say, Pardon oy.