The Bodleian First Folio

A digital facsimile of the First Folio of Shakespeare's plays, Bodleian Arch. G c.7.



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Reference: d3r - Histories, p. 41

Left Column


The Life and Death of Richard the Second. What euer I shall happen to deuise. I see your Browes are full of Discontent,
[2175]
Your Heart of Sorrow, and your Eyes of Teares. Come home with me to Supper, Ile lay a Plot Shall shew vs all a merry day.
Exeunt.
Actus Quintus. Scena Prima. [Act 5, Scene 1] Enter Queene, and Ladies. Qu. This way the King will come: this is the way To Iulius Cæsars ill‑erected Tower:
[2180]
To whose flint Bosome, my condemned Lord Is doom'd a Prisoner, by prowd Bullingbrooke. Here let vs rest, if this rebellious Earth Haue any resting for her true Kings Queene. Enter Richard, and Guard. But soft, but see, or rather doe not see,
[2185]
My faire Rose wither: yet looke vp; behold, That you in pittie may dissolue to dew, And wash him fresh againe with true‑loue Teares. Ah thou, the Modell where old Troy did stand, Thou Mappe of Honor, thou King Richards Tombe,
[2190]
And not King Richard: thou most beauteous Inne, When Triumph is become an Ale‑house Guest.
Rich. Ioyne not with griefe, faire Woman, do not so, To make my end too sudden: learne good Soule, To thinke our former State a happie Dreame,
[2195]
From which awak'd, the truth of what we are, Shewes vs but this. I am sworne Brother (Sweet) To grim Necessitie; and hee and I Will keepe a League till Death. High thee to France, And Cloyster thee in some Religious House:
[2200]
Our holy liues must winne a new Worlds Crowne, Which our prophane houres here haue stricken downe.
Qu. What, is my Richard both in shape and minde Transform'd, and weaken'd? Hath Bullingbrooke Depos'd thine Intellect? hath he beene in thy Heart?
[2205]
The Lyon dying, thrusteth forth his Paw, And wounds the Earth, if nothing else, with rage To be o're‑powr'd: and wilt thou, Pupill‑like, Take thy Correction mildly, kisse the Rodde, And fawne on Rage with base Humilitie,
[2210]
Which art a Lyon, and a King of Beasts?
Rich. A King of Beasts indeed: if aught but Beasts, I had beene still a happy King of Men. Good (sometime Queene) prepare thee hence for France: Thinke I am dead, and that euen here thou tak'st,
[2215]
As from my Death‑bed, my last liuing leaue. In Winters tedious Nights sit by the fire With good old folkes, and let them tell thee Tales Of wofull Ages, long agoe betide: And ere thou bid good‑night, to quit their griefe,
[2220]
Tell thou the lamentable fall of me, And send the hearers weeping to their Beds: For why? the sencelesse Brands will sympathize The heauie accent of thy mouing Tongue, And in compassion, weepe the fire out:
[2225]
And some will mourne in ashes, some coale‑black, For the deposing of a rightfull King.
Enter Northumberland. North. My Lord, the mind of Bullingbrooke is chang'd.

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Right Column


You must to Pomfret, not vnto the Tower. And Madame, there is order ta'ne for you:
[2230]
With all swift speed, you must away to France.
Rich. Northumberland, thou Ladder wherewithall The mounting Bullingbrooke ascends my Throne, The time shall not be many houres of age, More then it is, ere foule sinne, gathering head,
[2235]
Shall breake into corruption: thou shalt thinke, Though he diuide the Realme, and giue thee halfe, It is too little, helping him to all: He shall thinke, that thou which know'st the way To plant vnrightfully Kings, wilt know againe,
[2240]
Being ne're so little vrg'd another way, To pluck him headlong from the vsurped Throne. The Loue of wicked friends conuerts to Feare; That Feare, to Hate; and Hate turnes one, or both, To worthie Danger, and deserued Death.
North.
[2245]
My guilt be on my Head, and there an end: Take leaue, and part, for you must part forthwith.
Rich. Doubly diuorc'd? (bad men) ye violate A two‑fold Marriage; 'twixt my Crowne, and me, And then betwixt me, and my marryed Wife.
[2250]
Let me vn‑kisse the Oath 'twixt thee, and me; And yet not so, for with a Kisse 'twas made. Part vs, Northumerland: I, towards the North, Where shiuering Cold and Sicknesse pines the Clyme: My Queene to France: from whence, set forth in pompe,
[2255]
She came adorned hither like sweet May; Sent back like Hollowmas, or short'st of day.
Qu. And must we be diuided? must we part? Rich. I, hand from hand (my Loue) and heart frō from heart. Qu. Banish vs both, and send the King with me. North.
[2260]
That were some Loue, but little Pollicy.
Qu. Then whither he goes, thither let me goe. Rich. So two together weeping, make one Woe. Weepe thou for me in France; I, for thee heere: Better farre off, then neere, be ne're the neere.
[2265]
Goe, count thy Way with Sighes; I, mine with Groanes.
Qu. So longest Way shall haue the longest Moanes. Rich. Twice for one step Ile groane, yͤ Way being short, And peece the Way out with a heauie heart. Come, come, in wooing Sorrow let's be briefe,
[2270]
Since wedding it, there is such length in Griefe: One Kisse shall stop our mouthes, and dumbely part; Thus giue I mine, and thus take I thy heart.
Qu. Giue me mine owne againe: 'twere no good part, To take on me to keep , and kill thy heart.
[2275]
So, now I haue mine owne againe, be gone, That I may striue to kill it with a groane.
Rich. We make Woe wanton with this fond delay: Once more adieu; the rest, let Sorrow say. Exeunt.
Scœna Secunda. [Act 5, Scene 2] Enter Yorke, and his Duchesse. Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
[2280]
When weeping made you breake the story off, Of our two Cousins comming into London.
Yorke. Where did I leaue? Duch. At that sad stoppe, my Lord, Where rude mis‑gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,
[2285]
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richards head.
d3 Yorke. Then

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Scœna Secunda. [Act 5, Scene 2] Enter Yorke, and his Duchesse. Duch. My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,
[2280]
When weeping made you breake the story off, Of our two Cousins comming into London.
Yorke. Where did I leaue? Duch. At that sad stoppe, my Lord, Where rude mis‑gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,
[2285]
Threw dust and rubbish on King Richards head.
Yorke. Then, as I said, the Duke, great Bullingbrooke, Mounted vpon a hot and fierie Steed, Which his aspiring Rider seem'd to know, With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course:
[2290]
While all tongues cride, God saue thee Bullingbrooke. You would haue thought the very windowes spake, So many greedy lookes of yong and old, Through Casements darted their desiring eyes Vpon his visage: and that all the walles,
[2295]
With painted Imagery had said at once, Iesu preserue thee, welcom Bullingbrooke. Whil'st he, from one side to the other turning, Bare‑headed, lower then his proud Steeds necke, Bespake them thus: I thanke you Countrimen:
[2300]
And thus still doing, thus he past along.
Dutch. Alas poore Richard, where rides he the whilst? Yorke. As in a Theater, the eyes of men After a well grac'd actor leaues the Stage, Are idlely bent on him that enters next,
[2305]
Thinking his prattle to be tedious: Euen so, or with much more contempt, mens eyes Did scowle on Richard: no man cride, God saue him: No ioyfull tongue gaue him his welcome home, But dust was throwne vpon his Sacred head,
[2310]
Which with such gentle sorrow he shooke off, His face still combating with teares and smiles (The badges of his greefe and patience) That had not God (for some strong purpose) steel'd The hearts of men, they must perforce haue melted,
[2315]
And Barbarisme it selfe haue pittied him. But heauen hath a hand in these euents, To whose high will we bound our calme contents. To Bullingbrooke, are we sworne Subiects now, Whose State, and Honor, I for aye allow.
Enter Aumerle. Dut.
[2320]
Heere comes my sonne Aumerle.
Yor. Aumerle that was, But that is lost, for being Richards Friend. And Madam, you must call him Rutland now: I am in Parliament pledge for his truth,
[2325]
And lasting fealtie to the new‑made King.
Dut. Welcome my sonne: who are the Violets now, That strew the greene lap of the new‑come Spring? Aum. Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not, God knowes, I had as liefe be none, as one. Yorke.
[2330]
Well, beare you well in this new‑spring of time Least you be cropt before you come to prime. What newes from Oxford? Hold those Iusts & Triumphs?
Aum. For ought I know my Lord, they do. Yorks. You will be there I know. Aum.
[2335]
If God preuent not, I purpose so.
Yor. What Seale is that that hangs without thy bosom? Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the Writing. Aum. My Lord, 'tis nothing. Yorke. No matter then who sees it,
[2340]
I will be satisfied, let me see the Writing.
Aum. I do beseech your Grace to pardon me, It is a matter of small consequence, Which for some reasons I would not haue seene. Yorke. Which for some reasons sir, I meane to see:
[2345]
I feare, I feare.
Dut. What should you feare? 'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into For gay apparrell, against the Triumph. Yorke. Bound to himselfe? What doth he with a Bond
[2350]
That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a foole. Boy, let me see the Writing.
Aum. I do beseech you pardon me, I may not shew it. Yor. I will be satisfied: let me see it I say. Snatches it Treason, foule Treason, Villaine, Traitor, Slaue. Dut.
[2355]
What's the matter, my Lord?
Yorke. Hoa, who's within there? Saddle my horse. Heauen for his mercy: what treachery is heere? Dut. Why, what is't my Lord? Yorke. Giue me my boots, I say: Saddle my horse:
[2360]
Now by my Honor, my life, my troth, I will appeach the Villaine.
Dut. What is the matter? Yorke. Peace foolish Woman. Dut. I will not peace. What is the matter Sonne? Aum.
[2365]
Good Mother be content, it is no more Then my poore life must answer.
Dut. Thy life answer? Enter Seruant with Boots. Yor. Bring me my Boots, I will vnto the King. Dutt. Strike him Aumerle. Poore boy, y u rt aamaz'd,
[2370]
Hence Villaine, neuer more come in my sight.
Yor. Giue me my Boots, I say. Dut. Why Yorke, what wilt thou do? Wilt thou not hide the Trespasse of thine owne? Haue we more Sonnes? Or are we like to haue?
[2375]
Is not my teeming date drunke vp with time? And wilt thou plucke my faire Sonne from mine Age, And rob me of a happy Mothers name? Is he not like thee? Is he not thine owne?
Yor. Thou fond mad woman:
[2380]
Wilt thou conceale this darke Conspiracy? A dozen of them heere haue tane the Sacrament, And interchangeably set downe their hands To kill the King at Oxford.
Dut. He shall be none:
[2385]
Wee'l keepe him heere: then what is that to him?
Yor. Away fond woman: were hee twenty times my Son, I would appeach him. Dut. Hadst thou groan'd for him as I haue done, Thou wouldest be more pittifull:
[2390]
But now I know thy minde; thou do'st suspect That I haue bene disloyall to thy bed, And that he is a Bastard, not thy Sonne: Sweet Yorke, sweet husband, be not of that minde: He is as like thee, as a man may bee,
[2395]
Not like to me, nor any of my Kin, And yet I loue him.
Yorke. Make way, vnruly Woman. Exit Dut. After Aumerle. Mount thee vpon his horse, Spurre post, and get before him to the King,
[2400]
And begge thy pardon, ere he do accuse thee, Ile not be long behind: though I be old, I doubt not but to ride as fast as Yorke: And neuer will I rise vp from the ground, Till Bullingbrooke haue pardon'd thee: Away be gone.
Exit
 

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<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="2">
   <head rend="italic center">Scœna Secunda.</head>
   <head type="supplied">[Act 5, Scene 2]</head>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Yorke, and his Duchesse.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Duch.</speaker>
      <l n="2279">My Lord, you told me you would tell the rest,</l>
      <l n="2280">When weeping made you breake the story off,</l>
      <l n="2281">Of our two Cousins comming into London.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2282">Where did I leaue?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Duch.</speaker>
      <l n="2283">At that sad stoppe, my Lord,</l>
      <l n="2284">Where rude mis‑gouern'd hands, from Windowes tops,</l>
      <l n="2285">Threw dust and rubbish on King<hi rend="italic">Richards</hi>head.</l>
   </sp>
   <pb facs="FFimg:axc0366-0.jpg" n="42"/>
   <cb n="1"/>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2286">Then, as I said, the Duke, great<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>,</l>
      <l n="2287">Mounted vpon a hot and fierie Steed,</l>
      <l n="2288">Which his aspiring Rider seem'd to know,</l>
      <l n="2289">With slow, but stately pace, kept on his course:</l>
      <l n="2290">While all tongues cride, God saue thee<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>.</l>
      <l n="2291">You would haue thought the very windowes spake,</l>
      <l n="2292">So many greedy lookes of yong and old,</l>
      <l n="2293">Through Casements darted their desiring eyes</l>
      <l n="2294">Vpon his visage: and that all the walles,</l>
      <l n="2295">With painted Imagery had said at once,</l>
      <l n="2296">Iesu preserue thee, welcom<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>.</l>
      <l n="2297">Whil'st he, from one side to the other turning,</l>
      <l n="2298">Bare‑headed, lower then his proud Steeds necke,</l>
      <l n="2299">Bespake them thus: I thanke you Countrimen:</l>
      <l n="2300">And thus still doing, thus he past along.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dutch.</speaker>
      <l n="2301">Alas poore<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>, where rides he the whilst?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2302">As in a Theater, the eyes of men</l>
      <l n="2303">After a well grac'd actor leaues the Stage,</l>
      <l n="2304">Are idlely bent on him that enters next,</l>
      <l n="2305">Thinking his prattle to be tedious:</l>
      <l n="2306">Euen so, or with much more contempt, mens eyes</l>
      <l n="2307">Did scowle on<hi rend="italic">Richard</hi>: no man cride, God saue him:</l>
      <l n="2308">No ioyfull tongue gaue him his welcome home,</l>
      <l n="2309">But dust was throwne vpon his Sacred head,</l>
      <l n="2310">Which with such gentle sorrow he shooke off,</l>
      <l n="2311">His face still combating with teares and smiles</l>
      <l n="2312">(The badges of his greefe and patience)</l>
      <l n="2313">That had not God (for some strong purpose) steel'd</l>
      <l n="2314">The hearts of men, they must perforce haue melted,</l>
      <l n="2315">And Barbarisme it selfe haue pittied him.</l>
      <l n="2316">But heauen hath a hand in these euents,</l>
      <l n="2317">To whose high will we bound our calme contents.</l>
      <l n="2318">To<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>, are we sworne Subiects now,</l>
      <l n="2319">Whose State, and Honor, I for aye allow.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Aumerle.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2320">Heere comes my sonne<hi rend="italic">Aumerle</hi>.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2321">
         <hi rend="italic">Aumerle</hi>that was,</l>
      <l n="2322">But that is lost, for being<hi rend="italic">Richards</hi>Friend.</l>
      <l n="2323">And Madam, you must call him<hi rend="italic">Rutland</hi>now:</l>
      <l n="2324">I am in Parliament pledge for his truth,</l>
      <l n="2325">And lasting fealtie to the new‑made King.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2326">Welcome my sonne: who are the Violets now,</l>
      <l n="2327">That strew the greene lap of the new‑come Spring?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2328">Madam, I know not, nor I greatly care not,</l>
      <l n="2329">God knowes, I had as liefe be none, as one.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2330">Well, beare you well in this new‑spring of time</l>
      <l n="2331">Least you be cropt before you come to prime.</l>
      <l n="2332">What newes from Oxford? Hold those Iusts &amp; Triumphs?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2333">For ought I know my Lord, they do.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorks.</speaker>
      <l n="2334">You will be there I know.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2335">If God preuent not, I purpose so.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2336">What Seale is that that hangs without thy bosom?</l>
      <l n="2337">Yea, look'st thou pale? Let me see the Writing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2338">My Lord, 'tis nothing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2339">No matter then who sees it,</l>
      <l n="2340">I will be satisfied, let me see the Writing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2341">I do beseech your Grace to pardon me,</l>
      <l n="2342">It is a matter of small consequence,</l>
      <l n="2343">Which for some reasons I would not haue seene.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2344">Which for some reasons sir, I meane to see:</l>
      <l n="2345">I feare, I feare.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2346">What should you feare?</l>
      <l n="2347">'Tis nothing but some bond, that he is enter'd into</l>
      <l n="2348">For gay apparrell, against the Triumph.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2349">Bound to himselfe? What doth he with a Bond</l>
      <l n="2350">That he is bound to? Wife, thou art a foole.</l>
      <cb n="2"/>
      <l n="2351">Boy, let me see the Writing.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2352">I do beseech you pardon me, I may not shew it.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2353">I will be satisfied: let me see it I say.</l>
      <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">Snatches it</stage>
      <l n="2354">Treason, foule Treason, Villaine, Traitor, Slaue.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2355">What's the matter, my Lord?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2356">Hoa, who's within there? Saddle my horse.</l>
      <l n="2357">Heauen for his mercy: what treachery is heere?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2358">Why, what is't my Lord?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2359">Giue me my boots, I say: Saddle my horse:</l>
      <l n="2360">Now by my Honor, my life, my troth,</l>
      <l n="2361">I will appeach the Villaine.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2362">What is the matter?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2363">Peace foolish Woman.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2364">I will not peace. What is the matter Sonne?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-aum">
      <speaker rend="italic">Aum.</speaker>
      <l n="2365">Good Mother be content, it is no more</l>
      <l n="2366">Then my poore life must answer.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2367">Thy life answer?</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Seruant with Boots.</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2368">Bring me my Boots, I will vnto the King.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dutt.</speaker>
      <l n="2369">Strike him<hi rend="italic">Aumerle</hi>. Poore boy, y<c rend="superscript">u</c>rt aamaz'd,</l>
      <l n="2370">Hence Villaine, neuer more come in my sight.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2371">Giue me my Boots, I say.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2372">Why Yorke, what wilt thou do?</l>
      <l n="2373">Wilt thou not hide the Trespasse of thine owne?</l>
      <l n="2374">Haue we more Sonnes? Or are we like to haue?</l>
      <l n="2375">Is not my teeming date drunke vp with time?</l>
      <l n="2376">And wilt thou plucke my faire Sonne from mine Age,</l>
      <l n="2377">And rob me of a happy Mothers name?</l>
      <l n="2378">Is he not like thee? Is he not thine owne?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2379">Thou fond mad woman:</l>
      <l n="2380">Wilt thou conceale this darke Conspiracy?</l>
      <l n="2381">A dozen of them heere haue tane the Sacrament,</l>
      <l n="2382">And interchangeably set downe their hands</l>
      <l n="2383">To kill the King at Oxford.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2384">He shall be none:</l>
      <l n="2385">Wee'l keepe him heere: then what is that to him?</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yor.</speaker>
      <l n="2386">Away fond woman: were hee twenty times my</l>
      <l n="2387">Son, I would appeach him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2388">Hadst thou groan'd for him as I haue done,</l>
      <l n="2389">Thou wouldest be more pittifull:</l>
      <l n="2390">But now I know thy minde; thou do'st suspect</l>
      <l n="2391">That I haue bene disloyall to thy bed,</l>
      <l n="2392">And that he is a Bastard, not thy Sonne:</l>
      <l n="2393">Sweet Yorke, sweet husband, be not of that minde:</l>
      <l n="2394">He is as like thee, as a man may bee,</l>
      <l n="2395">Not like to me, nor any of my Kin,</l>
      <l n="2396">And yet I loue him.</l>
   </sp>
   <sp who="#F-r2-yor">
      <speaker rend="italic">Yorke.</speaker>
      <l n="2397">Make way, vnruly Woman.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit</stage>
   <sp who="#F-r2-dyo">
      <speaker rend="italic">Dut.</speaker>
      <l n="2398">After<hi rend="italic">Aumerle</hi>. Mount thee vpon his horse,</l>
      <l n="2399">Spurre post, and get before him to the King,</l>
      <l n="2400">And begge thy pardon, ere he do accuse thee,</l>
      <l n="2401">Ile not be long behind: though I be old,</l>
      <l n="2402">I doubt not but to ride as fast as Yorke:</l>
      <l n="2403">And neuer will I rise vp from the ground,</l>
      <l n="2404">Till<hi rend="italic">Bullingbrooke</hi>haue pardon'd thee: Away be gone.</l>
   </sp>
   <stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit</stage>
</div>

        
        

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