Rich. Go Bushie to the Earle of Wiltshire streight,
Bid him repaire to vs to Ely house,
To see this businesse: to morrow next
We will for Ireland, and 'tis time, I trow:
And we create in absence of our selfe
Our Vncle Yorke, Lord Gouernor of England:
For he is iust, and alwayes lou'd vs well.
Come on our Queene, to morrow must we part,
Be merry, for our time of stay is short.
Flourish.
Manet North. Willoughby, & Ross.
Nor. Well Lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead
Ross. And liuing too, for now his sonne is Duke
Wil. Barely in title, not in reuennew
Nor. Richly in both, if iustice had her right
Ross. My heart is great: but it must break with silence,
Er't be disburthen'd with a liberall tongue
Nor. Nay speake thy mind: & let him ne'r speak more
That speakes thy words againe to do thee harme
Wil. Tends that thou'dst speake to th' Du[ke]. of Hereford,
If it be so, out with it boldly man,
Quicke is mine eare to heare of good towards him