294Mar. My L. Aumerle, is Harry Herford arm'd.

295Aum. Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

296Mar. The Duke of Norfolke, sprightfully and bold,

297Stayes but the summons of the Appealants Trumpet.

298Au. Why then the Champions, are prepar'd, and stay

299For nothing but his Maiesties approach. Flourish.

303Rich. Marshall, demand of yonder Champion

304The cause of his arriuall heere in Armes,

305Aske him his name, and orderly proceed

306To sweare him in the iustice of his cause.

307Mar. In Gods name, and the Kings, say who y^u art,

308And why thou com'st thus knightly clad in Armes?

309Against what man thou com'st, and what's thy quarrell,

310Speake truly on thy knighthood, and thine oath,

311As so defend thee heauen, and thy valour.

312Mow. My name is Tho. Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk,

313Who hither comes engaged by my oath

314(Which heauen defend a knight should violate)

315Both to defend my loyalty and truth,

316To God, my King, and his succeeding issue,

317Against the Duke of Herford, that appeales me:

318And by the grace of God, and this mine arme,

319To proue him (in defending of my selfe)

320A Traitor to my God, my King, and me,

321And as I truly fight, defend me heauen.

323Rich. Marshall: Aske yonder Knight in Armes,

324Both who he is, and why he commeth hither,

325Thus placed in habiliments of warre:

326And formerly according to our Law

327Depose him in the iustice of his cause.

328Mar. What is thy name? and wherfore comst y^u hither

329Before King Richard in his Royall Lists?

330Against whom com'st thou? and what's thy quarrell?

331Speake like a true Knight, so defend thee heauen.

332Bul. Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derbie,

333Am I: who ready heere do stand in Armes,

334To proue by heauens grace, and my bodies valour,

335In Lists, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norfolke,

336That he's a Traitor foule, and dangerous,

337To God of heauen, King Richard, and to me,

338And as I truly fight, defend me heauen.

339Mar. On paine of death, no person be so bold,

340Or daring hardie as to touch the Listes,

341Except the Marshall, and such Officers

342Appointed to direct these faire designes.

343Bul. Lord Marshall, let me kisse my Soueraigns hand,

344And bow my knee before his Maiestie:

345For Mowbray and my selfe are like two men,

346That vow a long and weary pilgrimage,

c Then

347Then let vs take a ceremonious leaue

348And louing farwell of our seuerall friends.

349Mar. The Appealant in all duty greets your Highnes,

350And craues to kisse your hand, and take his leaue.

351Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our armes.

352Cosin of Herford, as thy cause is iust,

353So be thy fortune in this Royall fight:

354Farewell, my blood, which if to day thou shead,

355Lament we may, but not reuenge thee dead.

356Bull. Oh let no noble eye prophane a teare

357For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbrayes speare:

358As confident, as is the Falcons flight

359Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.

360My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you,

361Of you (my Noble Cosin) Lord Aumerle;

362Not sicke, although I haue to do with death,

363But lustie, yong, and cheerely drawing breath.

364Loe, as at English Feasts, so I regreete

365The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet.

366Oh thou the earthy author of my blood,

367Whose youthfull spirit in me regenerate,

368Doth with a two-fold rigor lift mee vp

369To reach at victory aboue my head,

370Adde proofe vnto mine Armour with thy prayres,

371And with thy blessings steele my Lances point,

372That it may enter Mowbrayes waxen Coate,

373And furnish new the name of Iohn a Gaunt,

374Euen in the lusty hauiour of his sonne.

375Gaunt. Heauen in thy good cause make thee prosp'rous

376Be swift like lightning in the execution,

377And let thy blowes doubly redoubled,

378Fall like amazing thunder on the Caske

379Of thy amaz'd pernicious enemy.

380Rouze vp thy youthfull blood, be valiant, and liue.

381Bul. Mine innocence, and S. George to thriue.

382Mow. How euer heauen or fortune cast my lot,

383There liues, or dies, true to Kings Richards Throne,

384A loyall, iust, and vpright Gentleman:

385Neuer did Captiue with a freer heart,

386Cast off his chaines of bondage, and embrace

387His golden vncontroul'd enfranchisement,

388More then my dancing soule doth celebrate

389This Feast of Battell, with mine Aduersarie

390Most mighty Liege, and my companion Peeres,

391Take from my mouth, the wish of happy yeares,

392As gentle, and as iocond, as to iest,

393Go I to fight: Truth, hath a quiet brest.

394Rich. Farewell, my Lord, securely I espy

395Vertue with Valour, couched in thine eye:

396Order the triall Marshall, and begin.

397Mar. Harrie of Herford, Lancaster, and Derby,

398Receiue thy Launce, and heauen defend thy right.

399Bul. Strong as a towre in hope, I cry Amen.

400Mar. Go beare this Lance to Thomas D. of Norfolke.

4011. Har. Harry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derbie,

402Stands heere for God, his Soueraigne, and himselfe,

403On paine to be found false, and recreant,

404To proue the Duke of Norfolke, Thomas Mowbray,

405A Traitor to his God, his King, and him,

406And dares him to set forwards to the fight.

4072. Har. Here standeth Tho: Mowbray Duke of Norfolk

408On paine to be found false and recreant,

409Both to defend himselfe, and to approue

410Henry of Herford, Lancaster, and Derby,

411To God, his Soueraigne, and to him disloyall:

412Couragiously, and with a free desire

413Attending but the signall to begin. A charge sounded

414Mar. Sound Trumpets, and set forward Combatants:

415Stay, the King hath throwne his Warder downe.

416Rich. Let them lay by their Helmets & their Speares,

417And both returne backe to their Chaires againe:

418Withdraw with vs, and let the Trumpets sound,

419While we returne these Dukes what we decree.

421Draw neere and list

422What with our Councell we haue done.

423For that our kingdomes earth should not be soyld

424With that deere blood which it hath fostered,

425And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect

426Of ciuill wounds plowgh'd vp with neighbors swords,

427Which so rouz'd vp with boystrous vntun'd drummes,

428With harsh resounding Trumpets dreadfull bray,

429And grating shocke of wrathfull yron Armes,

430Might from our quiet Confines fright faire peace,

431And make vs wade euen in our kindreds blood:

432Therefore, we banish you our Territories.

433You Cosin Herford, vpon paine of death,

434Till twice fiue Summers haue enrich'd our fields,

435Shall not regreet our faire dominions,

436But treade the stranger pathes of banishment.

437Bul. Your will be done: This must my comfort be,

438That Sun that warmes you heere, shall shine on me:

439And those his golden beames to you heere lent,

440Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.

441Rich. Norfolke: for thee remaines a heauier dombe,

442Which I with some vnwillingnesse pronounce,

443The slye slow houres shall not determinate

444The datelesse limit of thy deere exile:

445The hopelesse word, of Neuer to returne,

446Breath I against thee, vpon paine of life.

447Mow. A heauy sentence, my most Soueraigne Liege,

448And all vnlook'd for from your Highnesse mouth:

449A deerer merit, not so deepe a maime,

450As to be cast forth in the common ayre

451Haue I deserued at your Highnesse hands.

452The Language I haue learn'd these forty yeares

453(My natiue English) now I must forgo,

454And now my tongues vse is to me no more,

455Then an vnstringed Vyall, or a Harpe,

456Or like a cunning Instrument cas'd vp,

457Or being open, put into his hands

458That knowes no touch to tune the harmony.

459Within my mouth you haue engaol'd my tongue,

460Doubly percullist with my teeth and lippes,

461And dull, vnfeeling, barren ignorance,

462Is made my Gaoler to attend on me:

463I am too old to fawne vpon a Nurse,

464Too farre in yeeres to be a pupill now:

465What is thy sentence then, but speechlesse death,

466Which robs my tongue from breathing natiue breath?

467Rich, It boots thee not to be compassionate,

468After our sentence, plaining comes too late.

469Mow. Then thus I turne me from my countries light

470To dwell in solemne shades of endlesse night.

471Ric. Returne againe, and take an oath with thee,

472Lay on our Royall sword, your banisht hands;

473Sweare by the duty that you owe to heauen

474(Our part therein we banish with your selues)

475To keepe the Oath that we administer:

476You ueuer shall (so helpe you Truth, and Heauen)

477Embrace each others loue in banishment,

478Nor euer looke vpon each others face,

479Nor euer write, regreete, or reconcile

480This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate,

481Nor euer by aduised purpose meete,

482To plot, contriue, or complot any ill,

483'Gainst Vs, our State, our Subiects, or our Land.

484Bull. I sweare.

485Mow. And I, to keepe all this.

486Bul. Norfolke, so fare, as to mine enemie,

487By this time (had the King permitted vs)

488One of our soules had wandred in the ayre,

489Banish'd this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,

490As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land.

491Confesse thy Treasons, ere thou flye this Realme,

492Since thou hast farre to go, beare not along

493The clogging burthen of a guilty soule.

494Mow. No Bullingbroke: If euer I were Traitor,

495My name be blotted from the booke of Life,

496And I from heauen banish'd, as from hence:

497But what thou art, heauen, thou, and I do know,

498And all too soone (I feare) the King shall rue.

499Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,

500Saue backe to England, all the worlds my way. Exit.

501Rich. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes

502I see thy greeued heart: thy sad aspect,

503Hath from the number of his banish'd yeares

504Pluck'd foure away: Six frozen Winters spent,

505Returne with welcome home, from banishment.

506Bul. How long a time lyes in one little word:

507Foure lagging Winters, and foure wanton springs

508End in a word, such is the breath of Kings.

509Gaunt. I thanke my Liege, that in regard of me

510He shortens foure yeares of my sonnes exile:

511But little vantage shall I reape thereby.

512For ere the sixe yeares that he hath to spend

513Can change their Moones, and bring their times about,

514My oyle-dride Lampe, and time-bewasted light

515Shall be extinct with age, and endlesse night:

516My inch of Taper, will be burnt, and done,

517And blindfold death, not let me see my sonne.

518Rich. Why Vncle, thou hast many yeeres to Iiue.

519Gaunt. But not a minute (King) that thou canst giue;

520Shorten my dayes thou canst with sudden sorow,

521And plucke nights from me, but not lend a morrow:

522Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,

523But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage:

524Thy word is currant with him, for my death,

525But dead, thy kingdome cannot buy my breath.

526Ric. Thy sonne is banish'd vpon good aduice,

527Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gaue,

528Why at our Iustice seem'st thou then to lowre?

529Gau. Things sweet to tast, proue in digestion sowre:

530You vrg'd me as a Iudge, but I had rather

531You would haue bid me argue like a Father.

532Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,

533I was too strict to make mine owne away:

534But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tong,

535Against my will, to do my selfe this wrong.

536Rich, Cosine farewell: and Vncle bid him so:

537Six yeares we banish him, and he shall go. Exit.

539Au. Cosine farewell: what presence must not know

540From where you do remaine, let paper show.

541Mar. My Lord, no leaue take I, for I will ride

542As farre as land will let me, by your side.

543Gaunt. Oh to what purpose dost thou hord thy words,

544That thou teturnst no greeting to thy friends?

545Bnll. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,

546When the tongues office should be prodigall,

547To breath th' abundant dolour of the heart.

548Gau. Thy greefe is but thy absence for a time.

549Bull. Ioy absent, greefe is present for that time.

550Gau. What is sixe Winters, they are quickely gone?

551Bul. To men in ioy, but greefe makes one houre ten.

552Gau. Call it a trauell that thou tak'st for pleasure.

553Bul. My heart will sigh, when I miscall it so,

554Which findes it an inforced Pilgrimage.

555Gau. The sullen passage of thy weary steppes

556Esteeme a soyle, wherein thou art to set

557The precious Iewell of thy home returne.

558Bul. Oh who can hold a fire in his hand

559By thinking on the frostie Caucasus?

560Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

561by bare imagination of a Feast?

562Or Wallow naked in December snow

563by thinking on fantasticke summers heate?

564Oh no, the apprehension of the good

565Giues but the greater feeling to the worse:

566Fell sorrowes tooth, doth euer ranckle more

567Then when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.

568Gau. Come, come (my son) Ile bring thee on thy way

569Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.

570Bul. Then Englands ground farewell: sweet soil adieu,

571My Mother, and my Nurse, which beares me yet:

572Where ere I wander, boast of this I can,

573Though banish'd, yet a true-borne Englishman.