K. Rich. We will descend and fold him in our arms.
Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,[832]55
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.[833]
Boling. O, let no noble eye profane a tear
For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear:[834]60
As confident as is the falcon's flight
Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.
My loving lord, I take my leave of you;
Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle;
Not sick, although I have to do with death,[835]65
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.[835][836]
Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet[835]
The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet:[835][837]
O thou, the earthly author of my blood,[838]
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,70
Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up[839]
To reach at victory above my head,[840]
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,[841]75
And furbish new the name of John a Gaunt,[842]
Even in the lusty haviour of his son.[843]
Gaunt. God in thy good cause make thee prosperous![844]
Be swift like lightning in the execution;
And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,[845]80
Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:[846]
Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.[847]
Boling. Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive![848]
Mow. However God or fortune cast my lot,[844]85
There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne,[849]
A loyal, just and upright gentleman:
Never did captive with a freer heart[850]
Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace
His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement.90
More than my dancing soul doth celebrate[851]
This feast of battle with mine adversary.
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years:[852]
As gentle and as jocund as to jest[853]95
Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.
K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.
Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,100
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right![844][854]
Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
Mar. Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.[855]
First Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,[856]
Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself,105
On pain to be found false and recreant,
To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray,
A traitor to his God, his king and him;[857]
And dares him to set forward to the fight.[858]