Speeches (Lines) for Earl of Northumberland in "Richard II"
Total: 38
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Act, Scene, Line
(Click to see in context) |
Speech text |
1 |
II,1,833 |
My liege, old Gaunt commends him to your majesty.
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2 |
II,1,835 |
Nay, nothing; all is said
His tongue is now a stringless instrument;
Words, life and all, old Lancaster hath spent.
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3 |
II,1,915 |
Well, lords, the Duke of Lancaster is dead.
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4 |
II,1,918 |
Richly in both, if justice had her right.
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5 |
II,1,921 |
Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er speak more
That speaks thy words again to do thee harm!
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6 |
II,1,929 |
Now, afore God, 'tis shame such wrongs are borne
In him, a royal prince, and many moe
Of noble blood in this declining land.
The king is not himself, but basely led
By flatterers; and what they will inform,
Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
That will the king severely prosecute
'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs.
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7 |
II,1,943 |
Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he hath not,
But basely yielded upon compromise
That which his noble ancestors achieved with blows:
More hath he spent in peace than they in wars.
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8 |
II,1,949 |
Reproach and dissolution hangeth over him.
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9 |
II,1,953 |
His noble kinsman: most degenerate king!
But, lords, we hear this fearful tempest sing,
Yet see no shelter to avoid the storm;
We see the wind sit sore upon our sails,
And yet we strike not, but securely perish.
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10 |
II,1,961 |
Not so; even through the hollow eyes of death
I spy life peering; but I dare not say
How near the tidings of our comfort is.
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11 |
II,1,968 |
Then thus: I have from Port le Blanc, a bay
In Brittany, received intelligence
That Harry Duke of Hereford, Rainold Lord Cobham,
[—]
That late broke from the Duke of Exeter,
His brother, Archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, Sir John Ramston,
Sir John Norbery, Sir Robert Waterton and Francis Quoint,
All these well furnish'd by the Duke of Bretagne
With eight tall ships, three thousand men of war,
Are making hither with all due expedience
And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:
Perhaps they had ere this, but that they stay
The first departing of the king for Ireland.
If then we shall shake off our slavish yoke,
Imp out our drooping country's broken wing,
Redeem from broking pawn the blemish'd crown,
Wipe off the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt
And make high majesty look like itself,
Away with me in post to Ravenspurgh;
But if you faint, as fearing to do so,
Stay and be secret, and myself will go.
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12 |
II,3,1154 |
Believe me, noble lord,
I am a stranger here in Gloucestershire:
These high wild hills and rough uneven ways
Draws out our miles, and makes them wearisome,
And yet your fair discourse hath been as sugar,
Making the hard way sweet and delectable.
But I bethink me what a weary way
From Ravenspurgh to Cotswold will be found
In Ross and Willoughby, wanting your company,
Which, I protest, hath very much beguiled
The tediousness and process of my travel:
But theirs is sweetened with the hope to have
The present benefit which I possess;
And hope to joy is little less in joy
Than hope enjoy'd: by this the weary lords
Shall make their way seem short, as mine hath done
By sight of what I have, your noble company.
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13 |
II,3,1174 |
It is my son, young Harry Percy,
Sent from my brother Worcester, whencesoever.
Harry, how fares your uncle?
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14 |
II,3,1178 |
Why, is he not with the queen?
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15 |
II,3,1182 |
What was his reason?
He was not so resolved when last we spake together.
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16 |
II,3,1190 |
Have you forgot the Duke of Hereford, boy?
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17 |
II,3,1194 |
Then learn to know him now; this is the duke.
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18 |
II,3,1205 |
How far is it to Berkeley? and what stir
Keeps good old York there with his men of war?
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19 |
II,3,1212 |
Here come the Lords of Ross and Willoughby,
Bloody with spurring, fiery-red with haste.
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20 |
II,3,1224 |
It is my Lord of Berkeley, as I guess.
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21 |
II,3,1295 |
The noble duke hath been too much abused.
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22 |
II,3,1306 |
The noble duke hath sworn his coming is
But for his own; and for the right of that
We all have strongly sworn to give him aid;
And let him ne'er see joy that breaks that oath!
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23 |
III,3,1639 |
The news is very fair and good, my lord:
Richard not far from hence hath hid his head.
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24 |
III,3,1644 |
Your grace mistakes; only to be brief
Left I his title out.
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25 |
III,3,1667 |
O, belike it is the Bishop of Carlisle.
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26 |
III,3,1742 |
The king of heaven forbid our lord the king
Should so with civil and uncivil arms
Be rush'd upon! Thy thrice noble cousin
Harry Bolingbroke doth humbly kiss thy hand;
And by the honourable tomb he swears,
That stands upon your royal grandsire's bones,
And by the royalties of both your bloods,
Currents that spring from one most gracious head,
And by the buried hand of warlike Gaunt,
And by the worth and honour of himself,
Comprising all that may be sworn or said,
His coming hither hath no further scope
Than for his lineal royalties and to beg
Enfranchisement immediate on his knees:
Which on thy royal party granted once,
His glittering arms he will commend to rust,
His barbed steeds to stables, and his heart
To faithful service of your majesty.
This swears he, as he is a prince, is just;
And, as I am a gentleman, I credit him.
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27 |
III,3,1818 |
My lord, in the base court he doth attend
To speak with you; may it please you to come down.
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28 |
III,3,1830 |
Sorrow and grief of heart
Makes him speak fondly, like a frantic man
Yet he is come.
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29 |
IV,1,2134 |
Well have you argued, sir; and, for your pains,
Of capital treason we arrest you here.
My Lord of Westminster, be it your charge
To keep him safely till his day of trial.
May it please you, lords, to grant the commons' suit.
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30 |
IV,1,2211 |
No more, but that you read
These accusations and these grievous crimes
Committed by your person and your followers
Against the state and profit of this land;
That, by confessing them, the souls of men
May deem that you are worthily deposed.
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31 |
IV,1,2232 |
My lord, dispatch; read o'er these articles.
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32 |
IV,1,2242 |
My lord,—
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33 |
IV,1,2259 |
Read o'er this paper while the glass doth come.
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34 |
IV,1,2262 |
The commons will not then be satisfied.
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35 |
V,1,2386 |
My lord, the mind of Bolingbroke is changed:
You must to Pomfret, not unto the Tower.
And, madam, there is order ta'en for you;
With all swift speed you must away to France.
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36 |
V,1,2404 |
My guilt be on my head, and there an end.
Take leave and part; for you must part forthwith.
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37 |
V,1,2419 |
That were some love but little policy.
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38 |
V,6,2886 |
First, to thy sacred state wish I all happiness.
The next news is, I have to London sent
The heads of Oxford, Salisbury, Blunt, and Kent:
The manner of their taking may appear
At large discoursed in this paper here.
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