BUSHY The wind sits fair for news to go for Ireland
But none returns. For us to levy power
Proportionable to the enemy is all unpossible
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
Lies in their purses, and whoso empties them
By so much fills their hearts with deadly hate.
BUSHY Wherein the King stands generally condemned.
BAGOT If judgement lies in them then so do we,
Because we ever have been near the King. (2.2.123-133)
Well, this is awkward, a little trio of rats contemplating how they might best get off this sinking ship, and realising that, whatever they decide to do, they’re probably screwed. First, however, it has to be clear that they’re not going to do what York’s just asked them to do, that is, muster troops and meet him at Berkeley Castle. Bushy sidles up to the issue: it would be relatively straightforward to get news to Ireland, to consult with the King, perhaps, get his warrant, his permission, his blessing, because the wind sits fair, that is, it’s blowing from the east. But the same prevailing wind means that no news from the King can reach us here. We are cut off. And after this relatively neutral observation—and a mid-line break, to consider, and pivot—Bushy starts to outline the reality of the situation. We haven’t got a hope of raising an army, levying power, that would be anything like substantial enough, proportionable, to take on Bolingbroke. No chance. Green is blunter: we are near to the King in love, his intimate friends, and therefore anyone who loves not the King hates us too. Yes, adds Bushy, above all, that’s the wavering commons, the fickle common people, and it’s because they’re obsessed with money; they hate anyone who makes them empty their purses. Vulgar, mercenary peasants. (The commons aren’t peasants, I exaggerate; it’s the common people, that is, not the nobles or gentry.) Bushy, however, seems to concede that the peasants may have a point: the King stands generally condemned for having taxed the common people far too severely, and Bagot (not the brightest of the three) does eventually catch up: that means that, if the commons are able to make that assessment, that they have been unfairly taxed by the King, then they will condemn us too, because we ever have been near the King. He’s going down, and we’re going down with him.
