Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders. Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, For that I was his father Edward's son; Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd: May be a precedent and witness good, That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood: To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower. thee! These words hereafter thy tormentors be! Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: Love they to live, that love and honour have. [Exit, borne out by his attendants.] K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens have; For both hast thou, and both become the grave. York. I do beseech your majesty, impute his words To wayward sicklinefs and age in him: He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear As theirs, so mine; and all be as it is. Enter NORTHUMBERLAND. North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty. K. Rich. What says he? North. Nay, nothing; all is said: His His tongue is now a stringlefs instrument; Words, life, and all, old Lancaster hath spent.> York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! Though death be poor, it ends a mortal woe. K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be: And, for these great affairs do ask some charge, Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke But bloody with the enemies of his kin. Pardon me, if you please; if not, I pleas'd Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, His livery, and deny his offer'd homage, ९ K. Rich. Think what you will; we seize into our hands His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands. York. I'll not be by, the while: My liege, farewel: What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; But by bad courses may be understood, That their events can never fall out good. [Exit.] K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire straight; Bid him repair to us to Ely-house, To see this businefs: Tomorrow next BAG. North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is dead. Rofs. And living too; for now his son duke. Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue. Ere't be disburden'd with a liberal tongue. North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more, That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! Willo. Tends that thou'dst speak, to the duke of Hereford? If it be so, out with it boldly, man; Quick is mine ear, to hear of good towards him, North. Now, afore heaven, 'tis shame, such wrongs are borne, In him a royal prince, and many more Rofs. The commons hath he pill'd with grie vous taxes, And quite lost their hearts: the nobles hath he fin'd For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. - Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd; As blanks, benevolences and I wot not what: But what, o'God's name, doth become of this? North Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not, But basely, yielded upon compromise That which his ancestors atchiey'd with blows: More hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Rofs. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in farm. Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a brok en, man...* North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth over him. . Rofs. He hath not money for these Irish wars, His burthenous taxations notwithstanding, But by the robbing of the banish'd duke. North. His noble kinsman. rate king! Most degene But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,. suffer; And unavoided is the danger now. I spy life peering; but I dare not say, Rofs. Be confident to speak, Northumberland: |