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. 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,
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. 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
Yorke. You will be there I know
Aum. 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,
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:
I feare, I feare
Dut.
Pages:
76
77
78
79
80
81
82
83
84
85
86
87
88
89
90
91
92
93
94
95
96
97
98
99
100