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Edward's feven fons, whereof thyfelf art one,
Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,
Or seven fair branches, springing from one root :
Some of those seven are dry'd by nature's course,
Some of those branches by the destinies, cut ;
But Thomas, my dear friend, my life, my Glofter,
One phial full of Edward's sacred blood,
One Hourishing branch of his most royal root,
Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt ;
Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded,
By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe.
Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb,
That metal, that self-mould that fashion'd thee,
Made him a man; and though thou liv'it, and breath'st,
Yet art thou slain in him : thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,
In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,
Who was the model of thy father's life.
Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair
In suffering thus thy brother to be Naughter'd,
Thou shew'st the naked path-way to thy life,
Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.
That, which in mean men we intitle patience,
Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts,
What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,
The best way is, to 'venge my Gloster's death.
Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's sube

stitute,
His deputy anointed in his fight,
Hath caus'd his death : the which, if wrongfully,
Let God revenge ; for I may never lift
An angry arm against his minifter.
Dutch. Where then, alas ! may I complain myself?
Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and de-

fence,
Dutch. Why then, I will: farewell, old Gaunt,
Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold
Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight.
O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,

That

That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breaft!
Or, if misfortune miss the first career,
Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,
That they may break his foaming courser's back,
And throw the rider headlong in the lists,
3 A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford !
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's wife
With her companion grief must end her life.

Gaunt. Sifter, farewell; I must 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 hollowness, but weight : I take my leave before I have begun ; For forrow ends not when it seemeth done. Commend me to my brother, Edmund York: Lo, this is all :-nay, yet depart not so ; Though this be all, do not so quickly go : I shall remember more. Bid him-oh, what? With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Alack, and what shall good old York there fee But empty lodgings, and unfurnish'd walls, Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ? And what hear there for welcome, but my groans ? Therefore commend me ;- let him not come there To seek out sorrow, that dwells every where: Defolate, desolate, will I hence, and die ; The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye. [Exeunt.

3 A caitiff recreant-] Caitiff originally fignified a prisoner ; next a flave, from the condition of prisoners; then a scoundrel, from the qualities of a llave.

Ημισυ ής αρετής αποαίνυλαι δόλιον ήμαρ. . In this paflage it partakes of all these significations. JOHNSON,

SCENE SCENE III. .

The lifts, at Coventry.

Enter the lord marshal and Aumerle. Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm’d? Aum. Yea, at all points, and longs to enter in.

Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet, Aum. Why, then the champions are prepar'd; and

stay For nothing but his majesty's approach. [Flourish. The trumpets sound, and the king enters with Gaunt,

Busby, Bagot, and others : when they are fet, enter the duke of Norfolk in armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause of his arrival here in arms: Ask him his name; and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause. Mar. In God's name and the king's, say who thou art?

[To Mowbray. And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms ? Against what man thou com’st, and what thy quarrel? Speak truly on thy knighthood, and thine oath; And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! 4 Mowb. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of

Norfolk;
Who hither come engaged by my oath,
(Which, heaven defend, a knight should violate!)
Both to defend my loyalty and truth,

* Mowbray.) Mr. Edwards, in his MSS. notes, observes, both from Matthew Paris and Holin shead, that the duke of Hereford, appellant, entered the lifts first; and this indeed must have been the regular method of the combat ; for the natural order of things requires, that the accuser or challenger fhould be at the place of appointment first. STEEVENS.

Το

To God, my king, and his succeeding issues,
Against the duke of Hereford, that appeals me;
And, by the grace of God, and this mine arm,
To prove him, in defending of myself,
A traitor to my God, my king, and me:
And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
The trampets found. 'Enter Bolingbroke, appellant, in

armour.

K. Rich. Marshal, ask 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, Depose him in the justice of his cause. Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st

thou hither, Before king Richard, in his roya! lists? [To Boling Against whom comest thou ? and what's thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight; so defend thee heaven!

Boling. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, To prove, by heaven'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 heaven, king Richard, and to me; And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists; Except the marshal, and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs. Boling. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's

hand, And bow my knee before his majesty:

- his succeeding ifre,] Such is the reading of the first folio ; the later editions read my issue. Mowbray's issue was, by this accusation, in danger of an attainder, and therefore he "might come, among other reasons, for their fake ; but the old reading is more just and grammatical. JOHNSON.

For

For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men
That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;
Then let us take a ceremonious leave,
And loving farewell, of our several friends.
Mar. The Appellant in all duty greets your high-
ness,

[TO K. Rich. And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave.

K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, 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 spear. As confident, as is the Faulcon's flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving lord, I take my leave of Of you, my noble cousin, lord AuinerleNot sick, although I have to do with death; But lufty, young, and chearly drawing breath.Lo, as at English feasts, fo I regreet The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet : Oh thou! the earthly author of my blood, (To Gaunt. Whose 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 blessings steel my lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, And furbish new the name of John of Gaunt Even in the lufty 'haviour of his son. Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee pro

fperous ! Be swift like lightning in the execution ; And let thy blows, doubly redoubled, Fall like amazing thunder on the casque Of thy adverse pernicious enemy: Rouze up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. Boling. Mine innocence, and Saint George to thrive!

Mowb.

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