860What will ensue heereof, there's none can tell.

861But by bad courses may be vnderstood,

862That their euents can neuer fall out good. Exit.

863Rich. Go Bushie to the Earle of Wiltshire streight,

864Bid him repaire to vs to Ely house,

865To see this businesse: to morrow next

866We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow:

867And we create in absence of our selfe

868Our Vncle Yorke, Lord Gouernor of England:

869For he is iust, and alwayes lou'd vs well.

870Come on our Queene, to morrow must we part,

871Be merry, for our time of stay is short. Flourish.

873Nor. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.

874 Ross. And liuing too, for now his sonne is Duke .

875Wil. Barely in title, not in reuennew.

876Nor. Richly in both, if iustice had her right.

877 Ross. My heart is great: but it must break with silence,

878Er't be disburthen'd with a liberall tongue.

879Nor. Nay speake thy mind: & let him ne'r speak more

880That speakes thy words againe to do thee harme.

881Wil. Tends that thou'dst speake to th' Du . of Hereford,

882If it be so, out with it boldly man,

883Quicke is mine eare to heare of good towards him.

884 Ross. No good at all that I can do for him,

885Vnlesse you call it good to pitie him,

886Bereft and gelded of his patrimonie.

887Nor. Now afore heauen, 'tis shame such wrongs are

888 borne,

889In him a royall Prince, and many moe

890Of noble blood in this declining Land;

891The King is not himselfe, but basely led

892By Flatterers, and what they will informe

893Meerely in hate 'gainst any of vs all,

894That will the King seuerely prosecute

895'Gainst vs, our liues, our children, and our heires.

896Ros. The Commons hath he pil'd with greeuous taxes

897And quite lost their hearts: the Nobles hath he finde

898For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts.

899Wil. And daily new exactions are deuis'd,

900As blankes, beneuolences, and I wot not what:

901But what o' Gods name doth become of this?

902Nor. Wars hath not wasted it, for war'd he hath not.

903But basely yeelded vpon comprimize,

904That which his Ancestors atchieu'd with blowes:

905More hath he spent in peace, then they in warres.

906Ros. The Earle of Wiltshire hath the realme in Farme.

907Wil. The Kings growne bankrupt like a broken man.

908Nor. Reproach, and dissolution hangeth ouer him.

909Ros. He hath not monie for these Irish warres:

910(His burthenous taxations notwithstanding)

911But by the robbing of the banish'd Duke.

912Nor. His noble Kinsman, most degenerate King:

913But Lords, we heare this fearefull tempest sing,

914Yet seeke no shelter to auoid the storme:

915We see the winde sit sore vpon our salles,

916And yet we strike not, but securely perish.

917Ros. We see the very wracke that we must suffer,

918And vnauoyded is the danger now

919For suffering so the causes of our wracke.

920Nor. Not so: euen through the hollow eyes of death,

921I spie life peering: but I dare not say

922How neere the tidings of our comfort is.

923Wil. Nay let vs share thy thoughts, as thou dost ours

924Ros. Be confident to speake Northumberland,

925We three, are but thy selfe, and speaking so,

926Thy words are but as thoughts, therefore be bold.

927Nor. Then thus: I haue from Port le Blan

928A Bay in Britaine, receiu'd intelligence,

929That Harry Duke of Herford, Rainald Lord Cobham,

930That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,

931His brother Archbishop, late of Canterbury,

932Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir Iohn Rainston,

933Sir Iohn Norberie, Sir Robert Waterton, & Francis Quoint,

934All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Britaine,

935With eight tall ships, three thousand men of warre

936Are making hither with all due expedience,

937And shortly meane to touch our Northerne shore:

938Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay

939The first departing of the King for Ireland.

940If then we shall shake off our slauish yoake,

941Impe out our drooping Countries broken wing,

942Redeeme from broaking pawne the blemish'd Crowne,

943Wipe off the dust that hides our Scepters gilt,

944And make high Maiestie looke like it selfe,

945Away with me in poste to Rauenspurgh,

946But if you faint, as fearing to do so,

947Stay, and be secret, and my selfe will go.

948Ros. To horse, to horse, vrge doubts to them y^t feare.

949Wil. Hold out my horse, and I will first be there.

953Bush. Madam, your Maiesty is too much sad,

954You promis'd when you parted with the King,

955To lay aside selfe-harming heauinesse,

956And entertaine a cheerefull disposition.

957Qu. To please the King, I did: to please my selfe

958I cannot do it: yet I know no cause

959Why I should welcome such a guest as greefe,

960Saue bidding farewell to so sweet a guest

961As my sweet Richard; yet againe me thinkes,

962Some vnborne sorrow, ripe in fortunes wombe

963Is comming towards me, and my inward soule

964With nothing trembles, at something it greeues,

965More then with parting from my Lord the King.

966Bush. Each substance of a greefe hath twenty shadows

967Which shewes like greefe it selfe, but is not so:

968For sorrowes eye, glazed with blinding teares,

969Diuides one thing intire, to many obiects,

970Like perspectiues, which rightly gaz'd vpon

971Shew nothing but confusion, ey'd awry,

972Distinguish forme: so your sweet Maiestie

973Looking awry vpon your Lords departure,

974Finde shapes of greefe, more then himselfe to waile,

975Which look'd on as it is, is naught bur shadowes

976Of what it is not: then thrice-gracious Queene,

977More then your Lords departure weep not, more's not (seene;

978Or if it be, 'tis with false sorrowes eie,

979Which for things true, weepe things imaginary.

980Qu. It may be so: but yet my inward soule

981Perswades me it is otherwise: how ere it be,

982I cannot but be sad: so heauy sad,

983As though on thinking on no thought I thinke,

984Makes me with heauy nothing faint and shrinke.

985Bush. 'Tis nothing but conceit (my gracious Lady.)