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Rofs. To horse, to horse! urge doubts to them that fear. Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.

[Exeunt.

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Enter Queen, Bushy, and Bagot.
Bushy. Madam, your majesty is much too fad :
You promis’d, when you parted with the king,
To lay aside life-harming heaviness,
And entertain a chearful disposición.

Queen. To please the king, I did ; to please myself,
I cannot do it ; yet I know no cause
Why I should welcome such a guest as grief,
Save bidding farewell to fo'sweet a guest
As my sweet Richard : Yet again, methinks,
Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb,
Is coming toward me; and my inward soul
• With nothing trembles : at something it grieves,
More than with parting from my lord the king.

Buhy. Each substance of a grief hath twenty shadows, Which thew like grief itself, but are not so: For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears, Divides one thing entire to many objects ; ? Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz’d upon, Shew nothing but confusion ; ey'd awry, Distinguish form : so your sweet majesty, Looking awry upon your lord's departure, Finds shapes of grief, more than himself, to wail ;

With ncibing trembles :)-At what hath yet no existence. P Like perspectives, )-Like pictures pasted on an indented board, which, if held in a dirtel position, nothing appears but confusion; if obliquely, you perceive the intended images.

Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows
Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,
More than your lord's departure weep not; more's not

feen :
Or if it be, 'tis with false forrow's eye,
Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary.

Queen. It may be fo; but yet my inward soul
Persuades me, it is otherwise: Howe'er it be,
I cannot buc be sad ; so heavy sad,
As, though, in thinking, on no thought I think,
Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink.

Bussy. 'Tis nothing but conceit, my gracious lady.

Queen. 'Tis nothing less : conceit is still deriv’d From some fore-father grief; mine is not fo; 'For nothing hath begot my something grief ; Or something hath the nothing that I grieve : s '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,

Enter Green.

Green. Heaven save your majesty !-- and well met,

gentlemen :I hope, the king is not yet fip'd for Ireland.

Queen. Why hop'lt thou so ? 'tis better hope, he is; For his designs crave hafte, his halte good hope ; Then wherefore doft thou hope, he is not ship'd ?

Green. That he, our hope, might have' recir'd his power, And driven into despair an enemy's hope,

though, in thinking, on no thought I think,]—though I have not an idea of any diftinct calamity.

· For not bing barb, &c.] - Whether the cause of this my prematurd concern be real or imaginary, it can never be properly ascribed to conceit, whose constant bafis is some past occurrence.

'Tis in reverfion ibat I do poleds ;-What I thus severely anticipate is yet in embryo.

tretir'd)-drawn back.

Who

II.
Who strongly hath set footing in this land :
The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himself,
And with uplifted arms is safe arriv'd
At Ravenspurg

Queen. Now God in heaven forbid !

Green. O, madam, 'tis too true: and that is worse,
The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry,
The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby,
With all their powerful friends, are fled to him.

Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd Northumberland,
And the rest of the revolted faction, traitors ?

Green. We have : whereupon the earl of Worcester
Hath broke his staff, resign’d his stewardship,
And all the houshold servants fled with him
To Bolingbroke.

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife of my woe,
And Bolingbroke my sorrow's dismal heir :
Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy;
And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother,
Have woe to woe, forrow to forrow join'd.

Busby. Despair not, madam.

Queen. Who shall hinder me?
I will despair, and be at enmity
With cozening hope: he is a flatterer,
A parasite, a keeper-back of death,
Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
Which false hope lingers in extremity.

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Enter York.

Green. Here comes the duke of York.

Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck ;
Oh, full of careful business are his looks!
Uncle, for heaven's sake, speak comfortable words.

repeals bimself,]— hath recalled himself, abrogated his sentence of exile.

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York.

York. Should I do so, I should bely my thoughts ;
Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,
Where nothing lives, but crosses, care, and grief.
Your husband he is gone to save far off,
Whilft others come to make him lose at home :
Here am I left to underprop his land;
Who, weak with age, cannot support myself :-
Now comes the sick hour that his surfeit made;
Now shall he try his friends that flatter'd him.

Enter a Servant,
Ser. My lord, your son was gone before I came.

York. He was? - Why, lo!--go all which way it will!
The nobles they are fled, the commons they are cold,
And will, I fear, revolt on Hereford's fide.
Sirrah,
Get thee to " Plashy, 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, as I came by, and called there ;
But I shall grieve thee to report the rest.

York. What is it, knave?
Ser. An hour before I came, the dutchess dy'd.

York. Heaven 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 heaven, (So my * untruth had not provok'd him to it) The king had cut off my head with my brother's... What, are there posts dispatch'd for Ireland ?How shall we do for money for these wars ? Come, lifter,—cousin, I would say; pray, pardon me. * Plashg,]—a town in Essex, belonging to the Dutchess of Glofier. * uniruth]-treachery, disloyalty.

Come, lifter,]-Thinking on the late Dutchess. VOL. III.

Dd

1

Go,

Both are my

Go, fellow, get thee home, provide fome.carts,

(To the fervant.
And bring away the armour that is there.
Gentlemen, will you go muster men ? if I know
How, or which way, to order thefe affairs,
Thus disorderly thrust into my hands,
Never believe me.

kinsmen
The one's my sovereign, whom both my oath
And duty bids defend ; the other again,
Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd ;
Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right.
Well, somewhat we must do.-Come, cousin, I'll
Dispose of you :-? Go, mufter up your men,
And meet me presently at Berkley, gentlenien.
I should to Plashy too;
But time will not permit :-All is uneven,
And every thing is left at six and seven.

[Exeunt Pork and Queen.
Bushy. The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,
But none returns. For us to levy power,
Proportionable to the enemy,
Is all unpoffible.

Green. Besides, our nearness to the king in love, Is near the hate of those love not the king.

Bagot. And that's the wavering commons; for their love Lies in their purses; and whoso empties them, By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.

Bushy. Wherein the king stands generally condemn’d.

Bagot. If judgment lie in them, then so do we, Because we have been ever near ite king.

Green. Well, I'll for refuge straight to Bristol castle ; The earl of Wiltshire is already there.

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