Ser. My Lord, I had forgot To tell your Lordship, to day I came by, and call'd there, But I shall greeue you to report the rest
Yor. What is't knaue? Ser. An houre before I came, the Dutchesse di'de
Yor. Heau'n for his mercy, what a tide of woes Come rushing on this wofull Land at once? I know not what to do: I would to heauen (So my vntruth had not prouok'd him to it) The King had cut off my head with my brothers. What, are there postes dispatcht for Ireland? How shall we do for money for these warres? Come sister (Cozen I would say) pray pardon me. Go fellow, get thee home, prouide some Carts, And bring away the Armour that is there. Gentlemen, will you muster men? If I know how, or which way to order these affaires Thus disorderly thrust into my hands, Neuer beleeue me. Both are my kinsmen, Th' one is my Soueraigne, whom both my oath And dutie bids defend: th' other againe Is my kinsman, whom the King hath wrong'd, Whom conscience, and my kindred bids to right: Well, somewhat we must do: Come Cozen, Ile dispose of you. Gentlemen, go muster vp your men, And meet me presently at Barkley Castle: I should to Plashy too: but time will not permit, All is vneuen, and euery thing is left at six and seuen.
Exit
Bush. The winde sits faire for newes to go to Ireland, But none returnes: For vs to leuy power Proportionable to th' enemy, is all impossible
Gr. Besides our neerenesse to the King in loue, Is neere the hate of those loue not the King
Ba. And that's the wauering Commons, for their loue Lies in their purses, and who so empties them, By so much fils their hearts with deadly hate
Bush. Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd Bag. If iudgement lye in them, then so do we, Because we haue beene euer neere the King
Gr. Well: I will for refuge straight to Bristoll Castle, The Earle of Wiltshire is alreadie there
Bush. Thither will I with you, for little office Will the hatefull Commons performe for vs, Except like Curres, to teare vs all in peeces: Will you go along with vs? Bag. No, I will to Ireland to his Maiestie: Farewell, if hearts presages be not vaine, We three here part, that neu'r shall meete againe
Bu. That's as Yorke thriues to beate back Bullinbroke Gr. Alas poore Duke, the taske he vndertakes Is numbring sands, and drinking Oceans drie, Where one on his side fights, thousands will flye
Bush. Farewell at once, for once, for all, and euer. Well, we may meete againe
Bag. I feare me neuer. Enter.
Scaena Tertia.
Enter the Duke of Hereford, and Northumberland.
Bul. How farre is it my Lord to Berkley now? Nor. Beleeue me noble Lord, I am a stranger heere in Gloustershire, These high wilde hilles, and rough vneeuen waies, Drawes out our miles, and makes them wearisome. And yet our faire discourse hath beene as sugar, Making the hard way sweet and delectable: But I bethinke me, what a wearie way From Rauenspurgh to Cottshold will be found, In Rosse and Willoughby, wanting your companie, Which I protest hath very much beguild The tediousnesse, and processe of my trauell: But theirs is sweetned with the hope to haue The present benefit that I possesse; And hope to ioy, is little lesse in ioy, Then hope enioy'd: By this, the wearie Lords Shall make their way seeme short, as mine hath done, By sight of what I haue, your Noble Companie
Bull. Of much lesse value is my Companie, Then your good words: but who comes here?