Liii.

The Tragedie of

Both who he is, and why he commeth hither,

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Thus plated in habiliments of warre,

And formally according to our lawe,
Depofe him in the iustice of his cause.

Mar. What is thy name? and wherfore comft thou hither?
Before king Richard in his royall fifts,

Against whom comes thou? and whats thy quarrell?
Speake like a true Knight, so defend thee heauen.
Bul. Harry of Herford, Lancaster and Darbic
Am 1, who ready here do ftand in Armes
To proue by Gods grace,and my bodies valour
In lifts, on Thomas Mowbray Duke of Norffolke,
That he is a traitour foule and dangerous,
To God of heauen. king Richard and to me:
And as I truely fight, detend ine heauen.

Mar. On paine of death, no person be so bold,
Or daring,hardy, as to touch the liftes,

Except the Martiall and fuch officers

Appoynted to direct these faire defignes.

Bul. Lord Martiall, let me kifle nry Souereignes hand,
And bow my knee before his Maiestic,

For Mowbray and my selfe are like two men,

Then let vs take a ceremonious leaue,

That vow a long and wearie pilgrimage,

And louing farewell of our feuerall friends.

Mar. The appellant in all duety greetes your Highnes,
And craues to kifle your hand, and take his leaue.

King We will delcend and told him in our armes,
Coolin of Herford, as thy cause is right,
So be thy fortune in this royall fight:

Farewell my bloud, which ifto day thou fhead,
Lament we may, but not reuenge the dead.

Bul. Olet no noble eie prophane a téare
For me,ifl be gorde with Mowbraies speare:
As confident as is the Falcons flight
Against a bird,do I with Mowbray fight.
My louing Lord, I take my leaue of you:

Of

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King Richard the fecond.

Of you (my noble coufin) Lord Aumarle,
Not ficke although I haue to do with death,
But lufty, yong and cheerely drawing breth:
Loc, as at English feafts fo I regreet

The daintieft laft, to make the end moft fweet.
Oh thou the earthly Authour of my bloud,
Whole youthfull fpirite in me regenerate
Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me vp,
To reach at Victory aboue my head:

Adde proofe vnto mine armour with thy prayers,

And with thy blessings feele my launces point,
That it may enter Mowbraies waxen cote.

And furbish new the name of lohn a Gaunt,
Euen in the luftie hauiour of his fonne.

Gaunt, God in thy good cause make thee profperous,
Be fwift like lightning in the execution,

And let thy blowes doubly redoubled,
Fall like amazing thunder on the caske
Of thy aduerfe pernitious enemy,

Rowze vp thy youthfull bloud, be valiant and liue.
Bul. Mine innocence and faint George to thrive.
Mowb. How euer God or Fortune calt my lot,
There liues or dies true to King Richards throne,
A loyall,iuft,and vpright Gentlemani
Neuer did captiue with a freer heart

Call off his chaines of bondage,and embrace
His golden vncontrould enfranchisment,
More than my dauncing foule doth celebrate
This feast of battle with mine aduerfarie,

Moft mighty Liege, and my companion Peeres,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy yecres,
As gentle, and as iocund as to ieft
Gol to fight, truth hath a quiet brest.

King Farewell (my Lord) fecurely Iefpie,
Vertue with Valour couched in thine cic,
Order the triall Martiall, and beginne.

Mart. Harry of Herford,Lancaster and Darby,

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Receive

B 3

The Tragedic of

Rectiue thy launce, and God defend the right.
Bul. Strong as a tower in hope I cry, Amen.

Mart. Go beare this lance to Thomas Duke of Norfolke.
Herald Harry of Herford,Lancaster,and Darby

Stands here, for God,his foueraigne,and humfelfe,

On paine to be found falfe and recreant,

+108

To proue the Duke of Norfolke Thomas Mowbray
A traitor to God, his king, and him,

And dares him to fet forward to the fight.

Herald 2 Here ftandeth Thomas Mowbray D of Norfolk

On paine to be found falfe and recreant,

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A

L.

Both to defend himselfe, and to approve

Henry of Hereford, Lancaster,and Darby.
To God,his foueraigne,and to him difloyall,
Couragiously and with a free defire,

Attending but the signall to beginne.

Mart. Sound trumpets,and fet forward Combatants:
Stay, the king bath throwcn his warder downe.

King. Let them lay by their helmets, and their speares,
And both returne backe to their chaires againe,
Withdraw with vs, and let the trumpets found,
While we returne these dukes what we decree.
Draw neere and lift

What with our counfell we have done :

For that our kingdomes earth fhould not be foild
With that deare bloud which it hath fostered:

And for our cies do hate the dire afpect

Of cruell wounds plowd vp with neighbours fword,

And for we thinke the Egle-winged pride

Of skie-afpiring and ambitious thoughts,

With ruall hating enuy fet on you

To wake our peace, which in our Countries cradle
Draw the tweet infant breath ofgentle fleepe

Which fo rouz de vp with boiftrous vntunde drummes,
With bath refounding trumpets dreadfull bray,
And grating fhocke ofharth refounding armes,
Might from our quiet confines fright Laire Peace,

And

King Richard the fecond.

And make vs wade even in our kinreds bloud;
Therefore we banish you our territories:
You coufin Hereford vpon paine of life,
Til twice fiue fummers haue enricht our fields,
Shall not regrecte our faire dominions,
But treade the stranger paths of banishment,

Bul. Your will be done;this must my comfort be,
That Sunne that warmes you here,shall shine on me,
And thofe his golden beames to you heere lent.
Shall point on me, and guilde my banishment.

King Norfolke,for thee remaines a heauier doome,
Which I with fome vnwillingnelle pronounce,
The flic flow houres shall not determinate
The datele ffe limite of thy deere exile,
The hopleffe word of neuer to returne,
Breathe I against thee, vpon paine of life.

Monb. A heauy fentence, my moft foueraigne Liege,
And all vnlookt for from your Highneffe month,
A deerer merit not fo deepe a maime,

As to be caft forth in the common ayre

Haue I deferued at your Highneffe hands!
The language I have learnt these forty yeeres
My native English now I must forgo,

And now my tongues vfe is to me, no more
Than an vnftringed violl or a harpe,
Or like a cunning inftrument cafde vp,
Or being open, put into his hands

That knowes no touch to time the harmonie?
Within my mouth you haue engaold my tongue,
Doubly porculift with my teeth and lippes,
And dull vnfeeling barren ignorance
Is made my Gaoler to attend on me:

I am too olde to fawne vpon a nurse,

Too tar in yeeres to be a pupill now,

What is thy fentence but fpeechlesse death?

Which robbes my tongue from breathing native breath,
King It bootes thee not to be compassionate,

After

The Tragedie of

After our fentence playning comes too late.
Mow. Then thus I turne me from my countries light,
To dwel in folemne fhades of endlelle night.

King, Returne againe,and take an othe with thee,
Lay on our royall fword your banisht hands,
Sweare by the duty that y'owe to God,
(Our part therein we banish with your felues.)
To keepe the oath that we adminifter:
You neuer fhallfo helpe you truth and God,
Embrace each others loue in banishment,
Nor neuer looke vpon each others face,
Nor neuer write, regreete,nor reconcile
This lowring tempeft of your home-bred hate,
Nor neuer by aduised purpose meete,
Toplot,contriue,or complot any ill,
Gainft vs, our state, our subiects,or our land.
Bul. Ifweare.

Mow. And I, to keepe al this.

Bul, Norffolke, fo fare as to mine enemy:
By this time,bad the King permitted vs,
One of our foules had wandred in the aire,
Banifht this fraile fepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banisht from this land,
Confeffe thy treafons ere thou flie the realme,
Since thou haft far to go, beare not along
The clogging burthen of a guiltie foule.

Mow. No Bullingbrooke, if euer I were traitour,
My name be blotted from the booke of life,
And I from heauen banifht as from hence:
But what thou art, God, thou, and I, do know,
Andal too foone(I feare)the King fhall rew:
Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I ftray.
Saue backe to England al the worlds my way.
King. Vncle, eucrinthe glaffes of thine eyes,
Ifee thy gricued heart: thy fad afpe&t
Hath from the number of his banifht yecres
Pluckt foure away, fixe frozen winters spent,

Exit

Returne

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