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Gaunt. Sifter, farewel; I muft to Coventry.
As much Good stay with thee, as go with me!
Dutch. Yet one word more-grief boundeth where
it falls,

Not with the empty hollownefs, but weight:
I take my leave, before I have begun ;

For Sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York:
Lo, this is all-nay, yet depart not fo,
Though this be all, do not fo quickly go:
I thall remember more. Bid him-
-oh, what?
With all good speed at Plafbie vifit me.
Alack, and what fhall good old York see there
But empty lodgings, and unfurnifh'd walls,
Un-peopled offices, untrodden ftones ?

And what hear there for welcome, but my groans ?
Therefore cominend me,- let him not come there
To feck out forrow that dwells every where ;

All defolate, will I from hence, and die;

The last Leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt.

Mar.

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MY

Y lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd ? Aum. Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

Mar. The Duke of Norfolk, fprightfully and bold, Stays but the Summons of th' Appellant's trumpet. Aum. Why, then the Champions are prepar'd, and ftay

For nothing but his Majefty's approach.

[Flourish.

The

The trumpets found, and the King enters with Gaunt, Bufhy, Bagot, and others: when they are fet, Enter the Duke of Norfolk in armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder Champion The caufe of his arrival here in arms; Ask him his name, and orderly proceed

To fwear him in the juftice of his Cause.

Mar. In God's name and the King's, fay who thou art? [To Mowbray. And why thou com'ft, thus knightly clad in arms? Against what man thou com'ft, and what thy quarrel? Speak truly on thy Knighthood, and thine Oath, And fo defend thee heaven, and thy valour!

Mowb. My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

Who hither come engaged by my oath,

(Which, heav'n defend, a Knight should violate!)
Both to defend my Loyalty and Truth,

To God, my King, and his fucceeding Iffue,
Against the Duke of Hereford, that appeals me;
And by the grace of God, and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of my self,
A traitor to my God, my King, and me;
And, as I truly fight, defend me heav'n!

The trumpets found.

Enter Bolingbroke, Appellant, in armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, afk yonder Knight in arms,
Both who he is, and why he cometh hither,
Thus plated in habiliments of war;
And formally, according to our Law,

his fucceeding Ifue,] Such is the reading of the firft folio; the later editions read my Iflue. Mowbray's Ijue was, by this accufation, in danger of an attain

der, and therefore he might come among other reasons for their fake, but the old reading is more juft and grammatical.

Depose

Depose him in the juftice of his Cause.

Mar. What is thy name, and wherefore com'ft thou hither,

Before King Richard, in his royal Lifts? [To Boling. Against whom comeft thou? and what's thy Quarrel? Speak like a true Knight, fo defend thee heav'n!

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Darby
Am I, who ready here do ftand in arms,

To prove, by heav'n's grace and my body's valour,
In Lifts, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolk,
That he's a traitor foul and dangerous,

To God of heav'n, King Richard, and to me;
And, as I truly fight, defend me heav'n!

Mar. On pain of death, no perfon be so bold,
Or daring-hardy, as to touch the Lifts,
Except the Marshal, and fuch Officers
Appointed to direct thefe fair defigns.

Boling. Lord Marshal, let me kifs my Sovereign's hand,

And bow my knee before his Majesty :

For Mowbray and my felf are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
Then let us take a ceremonious Leave,
And loving Farewel, of our feveral friends.

Mar. Th' Appellant in all duty greets your High

nefs,

[To K. Rich. And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. K. Rich. We will defcend and fold him in our arms. Coufin of Hereford, as thy Caufe is right,

So be thy Fortune in this royal fight!

Farewel, my Blood; which if to day thou fhed,
Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
Boling. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's fpear.
As confident, as is the Faulcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you,
Of you, my noble Coufin, lord Aumerle.

Not

Not fick, although I have to do with Death;
But lufty, young, and chearly drawing Breath.——
Lo, as at English Feasts, so I regreet

The daintieft laft, to make the end most sweet:
Oh thou! the earthly author of my blood, [To Gaunt.
Whofe youthful spirit, in me regenerate,

Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up

To reach at Victory above my head,

Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers;
And with thy Bleffings steel my Lance's point,
That it may enter Mowbray's waxen Coat,
And furbish new the Name of John O' Gaunt
Ev'n in the lufty 'haviour of his fon.

[fperous!
Gaunt. Heav'n in thy good Caufe make thee pro-
Be fwift like Lightning in the execution,
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,

Fall like amazing thunder on the Cafque

Of thy adverse pernicious enemy.

Rouze up thy youthful blood, be brave and live. Boling. Mine innocence, God and St. George to thrive!

Mowb. However heav'n or fortune caft my lot, There lives, or dies, true to King Richard's Throne, A loyal, juft and upright Gentleman.

Never did Captive with a freer heart

Caft off his chains of bondage, and embrace
His golden uncontroul'd enfranchisement,
More than my dancing foul doth celebrate
This Feaft of battle, with mine adversary.
Moft mighty Liege, and my companion Peers,
Take from my mouth the wifh of happy years;
As gentle and as jocund, as to jeft,

Go I to fight: Truth hath a quiet breast.

[blocks in formation]

K. Rich.

WARBURTON.

The fenfe would perhaps have been better if the authour had written what his commentator fubftitutes

K. Rich. Farewel, my lord; fecurely I espy
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
Order the tryal, Marshal, and begin.

Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and mji ty,
Receive thy Lance; and heav'n defend thy Right!
Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry Amen.
Mar. Go bear this Lance to Thomas Duke of Norfolk.
1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
Stands here for God, his Sovereign and Himself,
On pain to be found falfe and recreant,

To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his King, and him;
And dares him to fet forward to the fight.

2 Her. Here ftandeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

On pain to be found falfe and recreant,
Both to defend himself, and to approve
Henry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,
To God, his Sovereign, and to him, disloyal:
Courageoufly, and with a free defire,

Attending but the Signal to begin. [A Charge founded. Mar. Sound, Trumpets; and fet forward, Combatants.

-But ftay, the King hath thrown his warder down.
K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their
fpears,

And Both return back to their chairs again.
Withdraw with us, and let the trumpets found,
While we return these Dukes what we decree.

Draw near;

[A long Flourish; after which, the King
Speaks to the Combatants.

And lift, what with our Council we have done.
For that our Kingdom's earth fhould not be foil'd
With that dear blood, which it hath foftered;

fubftitutes, but the rhyme to which fenfe is too often enflaved,

obliged Shakespeare to write jeff, and obliges us to read it.

And,

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