_York._ God for his mercy! what a tide of woes[1165] Comes rushing on this woeful land at once![1166] I know not what to do: I would to God,[1165] 100 So my untruth had not provoked him to it, The king had cut off my head with my brother's. What, are there no posts dispatch'd for Ireland?[1167] How shall we do for money for these wars? Come, sister,--cousin, I would say,--pray, pardon me. 105 Go, fellow, get thee home, provide some carts[1168] And bring away the armour that is there. [_Exit Servant._[1169] Gentlemen, will you go muster men?[1170] If I know how or which way to order these affairs[1171] Thus thrust disorderly into my hands,[1172] 110 Never believe me. Both are my kinsmen:[1173] The one is my sovereign, whom both my oath[1174] And duty bids defend; the other again[1175] Is my kinsman, whom the king hath wrong'd,[1176] Whom conscience and my kindred bids to right. 115 Well, somewhat we must do. Come, cousin, I'll[1177] Dispose of you.[1177] Gentlemen, go, muster up your men,[1177][1178] And meet me presently at Berkeley.[1179] I should to Plashy too;[1180] 120 But time will not permit: all is uneven,[1180] And every thing is left at six and seven.[1180] [_Exeunt York and Queen._[1181] _Bushy._ The wind sits fair for news to go to Ireland,[1182] But none returns. For us to levy power Proportionable to the enemy[1183] 125 Is all unpossible.[1183][1184] _Green._ Besides, our nearness to the king in love Is near the hate of those love not the king. _Bagot._ And that's the wavering commons: for their love[1185] Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them[1186] 130 By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate. _Bushy._ Wherein the king stands generally condemn'd.[1187] _Bagot._ If judgement lie in them, then so do we, Because we ever have been near the king.[1188] _Green._ Well, I will for refuge straight to Bristol castle:[1189][1190] 135 The Earl of Wiltshire is already there. _Bushy._ Thither will I with you; for little office[1191] The hateful commons will perform for us,[1192] Except like curs to tear us all to pieces.[1193] Will you go along with us?[1194] 140 _Bagot._ No; I will to Ireland to his majesty.[1189][1195] Farewell: if heart's presages be not vain, We three here part that ne'er shall meet again.[1196] _Bushy._ That's as York thrives to beat back Bolingbroke.