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sin!

That Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand no- Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's bles,

gage. In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers; K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. The which he hath detain'd for lewd employ: Gaunt.

When, Harry? when 7 ments,

Obedience bids, I should not bid again. Like a false traitor and injurious villain. K. Rich. Norfolk, throw down; we bid ; there Besides I say, and will in battle prove,

is no boot. Or here, or elsewhere, to the furthest verge Nor. Myself I turow, drcad sovereign, at thy That ever was survey'd by English eye,

foot: That all the treasons, for these eighteen years My life thou shalt command, but not my shame: Complotted and contrived in this land,

The one my duty owes ; but my fair name Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and (Despite of death, that lives upon my grave,) spring.

to dark dishonour's use thou shalt not have. Further I say,--and further will maintain I am disgrac'd, impeach'd, and baffled here ; Upon his bad life, to make all this good, Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear That he did plot the duke of Gloster's dcath; The which no balm can cure, but his heart-bldod Suggest his soon-believing adversaries ;

Which breath'd this poison. And, consequently, like a traitor coward,

K. Rich.

Rage must be withstood : Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of Give me his gage :-Lions make leopards tame. blood :

Nor. Yea, but not change their spots : take but Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,

my shame, Even from the tongueless caverns of the earth, And I resign my gage. My dear, dear lord, To me for justice, and rough chastisement; The purest treasure mortal times afford, And by the glorious worth of my descent, Is-spotless reputation ; that away, This arm shall do it, or this life be spent. Men are but gilded loam, or painted clay, K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution A jewel in a ten times barr'd up chest soars !

Is a bold spirit in a loyal breast. Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this? Mine honour is my life; both grow in one.

Nor. O, let my sovereign turn away his face, Take nonour from me, and my life is done: And bid his ears a little while be deaf,

Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; Tul I have told this slander of his blood, In that I live, and for that will I die. How God, and good men, hate so foul a liar. K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes, and you begin. ears:

Boling. O, God defend my soul from such foul Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, (As he is but my father's brother's son,)

Shall I seem crest-fallen in my father's sight? Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow, Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my height Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood Before this outdar'd dastard! Ere my tongue Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize Shall wound mine honour with such feeble The unstooping firmness of my upright soul;

wrong; He is our subject, Mowbray, 80 art

thou i Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear Free speech, and fearless, I to thee allow. The slavish motive of recanting fear, Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, And spit it bleeding in his high disgrace, Through the false passage of thy throat, thou Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's liest !

face.

(Exit Gaunt. Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais, K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to Disburs'd I duly to his highness' soldiers :

command : The other part reserv'd I by consent;

Which since we cannot do to make you friends For that my sovereign liege was in my debt, Be ready, as your lives shall answer it, Upon remainder of a deae account,

At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day; Since last I went to France to fetch his queen : There shall your swords and lances arbitrato Now swallow down that lie. -For Gloster's The swelling difference of your settled hale; death,

Since we cannot atone you, we shall see I slew him not ; but to my own disgrace, Justice design the victor's chivalry.Neglected my sworn duty in that case. Lord Marshal, command our officers at arms For you, my noble lord of Lancaster,

Be ready to direct these home-alarms. (Exeunt. The honourable father to my foe, Once did I lay in ambush for your life,

SCENE II. The same. A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul :

A Room in the Duke of Lancaster's Palace. But, ere I last receiv'd the sacrament, I did confess it : and exactly begg'd

Enter Gaunt, and Duchess of Gloster.
Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it. Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood
This is my fault : As for the rest appeal'd, Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,
It issues from the rancour of a villain,

To stir against the butchers of his life.
A recreant and most degenerate traitor : But since correction lieth in those hands,
Which in myself I boldly will defend ;

Which made the fault that we cannot correct, And interchangeably hurl down my gage Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven; Upon this overweening traitor's foot,

Who when he sees the hours ripe on errth, To prove myself a loyal gentleman

Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom: Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper In haste whereof, most heartily I pray

spur? Your highness to assign our trial day.

Hath love in thy old blood no living fire ? K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rul'd Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one, by me:

Were as seven phials of his sacred blood, Let's purge this choler without letting blood : Or seven fair branches springing from one root: This we prescribe, though no physician; Some of those even are dried by nature's course, Deep malice makes too deep incision:

Some of those branches by the destinies cut: Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed ; But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Glos Our doctors say, this is no time to bleed.

ter, Good uncle, let this end where it begun; One phial full of Edward's sacred blood, We'll calm the duke of Norfolk, you your son. One Hourishing branch of his most royal root, Gaunl. To be a make-peace shall become myage: Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;

Ah,

is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all Flourish of Trumpels. Enter King Richard, faded,

who takes his scat on his Throne; Gaunt, and By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe. several Noblemen, who take their places. A

Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that Trumpct is sounded, and answered by ano
womb,

ther Trumpet within. Then enler Norfolk in That mettle, that self-monld, that fashion'd thee,

armour, preceded by a Herald. Made him a man; and though thou liv'st, and breath'st,

K. Rich Marshal, demand of yonder chair Yet art thou slain in him : thou dost consent

pion In some large measure to thy father's death,

The cause of his arrival here in arms: In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,

Ask him his name; and orderly proceed Who was the model of thy father's life.

To swear him in the justice of his cause. Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair :

Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,

thou art, Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life,

And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee.

arms; That which in mean men we entitle-patience,

Against what man thou com'st, and what thy Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

quarrel : What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life, Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath; The best way is--to 'venge my Gloster's death! And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of substitute,

Norfolk; His deputy anointed in his sight,

Who hither come engaged by my oath, Hath caus' his death; the which if wrongfully, Both to defend my loyalty and truth,

(Which heaven defend, a knight should violate 1) Let heaven revenge; for I may never list An angry arm against his minister.

To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain against the duke of Hereford that appeals me; myself?

And, by the grace of God, and this mine armi, Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and To prove him, in defending of my self, defence.

A traitor to my God, my king, and me: Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt, And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven! Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold

[He takes his sent Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:

Trumpets sound. Enter Bolinghroke, in ar o, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,

mour; preceded by a Herald.
That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast !
0:, if Inisfortune iniss the first career,

K. Rich. Marshal, ask youder knight in arms,
Ee Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom, Both who he is, and why he cometh hither
That they may break his foaming courser's Thus plated in habiliments of war;
back,

And formally according to our law
And throw the rider headlong in the lists, Depose him in the justice of his cause.
A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford ! Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com'st
Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's thou hither,
wife,

Before King Richaril, in his royal lists?
With her companion grief must end her life. Against whom comest thon; and what's thy
Gaunt. Sister, farewell: I must to Coventry: quarrel ?
As much good stay with thee, as go with me! Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
Duch. Yet oue word more;--grief boundeth Boling. Harry of Hereforil, Lancaster, and
where it falls,

Derby,
Not with the empty hollowness, but weight : Am 1; who ready here do stand in arms,
I take my leave before I have begun;

To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's
For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.

valour,
Commend me to my brother, Edmund York. In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk,
Lo, this is all :-Nay, yet depart not so: That he's a traitor foul and dangerous,
Though this be all, do not so quickly go; To God of heaven, King Richard, and to me;
I shall remember more. Bid him--o, what? And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven !
With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold,
Alack, and what shall good old York there see, Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists;
But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, Except the marshal, and such oficers
Unpeopled offices, omtrodden stones ?

Appointed to direct these fair designs.
And what cheer' there for welcome, but my Boling: Lord Marshal, let me kiss my sovo

reign's hand,
Therefore commend me; let him not come there, and how my knee before his majesty;
To seek out sorrow that dwells every where: For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men
Desolate, desolate, will I hence and die; That vow a long and weary pilgrimage ;
The last leave of thee takes iny weeping, eye. Then let us take a ceremonious leave,

(Ereunt. And loving farewell, of our several friends.
SCENE III.

Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your

highness, Gosford Green, near Coventry. Lists set out, And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave and a Throne. Heralds, &c. attending.

K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our Enter the Lord Marshal, and Aumerle.

Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford So be thy fortune in this royal fight! arm'd?

Farewell, my blood: which if to-day thou shod,
Aum. Yen, at all points: and longs to enter in. Lament we may, but not revenge the dead.
Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and Boling. O, let no noble eye profane a tear
bold,

For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear;
Stays but the summons of the appellant's trum. As confident, as is the falcon's flight
pet.

Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, My loving lord, ( To Lord Marshal, ) I take my and stay

leave of you ;For u sthing but his majesty's approach. of

you, my noble consin, Lord Aamcrle ;-

groans ?

arms.

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Not sick, although I have to do with death ; Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing With rival-hating envy, set you on
breath.

To wake our peace, which in our country's Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet

cradle The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet; Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; O thou, the earthly author of my blood, - Which so rous'd up with boisterous untun'd

[To Gaunt.

druins,
Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, With harsh resounding trumpet's dreadful bray,
Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up

And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
To reach at victory above my head, -

Might from our quicl confines fright fair peace,
Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; And make us wade even in our kindred's
And with thy blessings steel my lance's point,

blood; That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, Therefore, we banish yon our territories : And furbish new the name of John of Gaunt, You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death, Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.

Til iwice five summers have enrich'd our fields, Gauni. Heaven in thy good cause make thee Shall not regreet our fair dominions, prosperous

But tread the stranger paths of banishment. Be swift like lightning in the exccution;

Boling. Your will be done; This must my And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,

comfort be, Fall like amazing thunder on the casque That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on of thy adverse pernicious enemy :

me; Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. And those his golden beams, to you here lent, Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George to Shall joint on me, and gild my banishment. thrive!

[He takes his seal. K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier Nor. (Rising:) However heaven, or fortune,

doom, cast my lot,

Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: There lives or dies, true to King Richard's The fly-slow hours shall not determinate throne,

The dateless limit of thy dear exile;A loyal, just, and upright gentleman:

The hopeless word of -never to return Never did captive with a freer heart

Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement,

liege, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: This feast of battle with mine adversary. A dearer merit, not so deep a maim Most mighty liege,--and my companion peers - As to be cast forth in the common air, Take from my mouth the wish of happy years; Have I deserved at your highness' hand. As gentle ond as jocund, as to jest,

'The language I have learn'd these forty ycars,
Go 1 to fight; Truth hath a qniet breast. My native English, now I must forego :
K. Rich. Farewell, my lord ; securely I espy And now my tongue's use is to me no more,
Virtue with valour couched in thine eye. Than an unstringed viol or a hap:
Order the trial, marshal, and begin

Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,
| The King and the Lord's return to their seats. Or, being open, put into his hands
Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and That knows no touch to tune the harmony.
Derby,

Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue,
Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips;
Boling. (Riring.) Strong as a tower in hope, And dull, unfeer.g, barren ignorance
I cry-amen.

Is made my gaoler to attend on me.
Mar. Go bear this lance (To an officer) to I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,
Thomas, duke of Norfolk.

Too far in years, to be a pupil now;
1 Het. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and What is thy sentence then, but speechless death,
Derby,

Which robs my tongue from breathing native Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, breath? On pain to be found'false and recreant,

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate; To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mow. After our sentence plaining comes too late. bray,

Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's A traitor to his God, his king, and him,

light, and dares him to set forward to the fight. To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. 2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke

[Retiring. of Norfolk,

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with On pain to be found false and recreant,

the. Both to defend himself, and to approve Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven, To God, his sovereign, and to him, disloyal; (Our therein we banish with yourselves) Courageously, and with a free desire,

To keep the oath that we administer Attending but the signal to begin.

You never shall (30 help you truth and heaven Mar. Sound, trumpets: and set forward, com- Embrace each other's love in banishment; batants.

[A Charge sounded Nor never look upon each other's face; Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. Nor never write, regroet, nor reconcile K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and This lowering tempest of your home-bred hates: their spears,

Nor never by advised purpose meet, And both return back to their chairs again: To plot, contrive, or complot any ill, Withdraw with us :-and let the trumpets sound, 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our landa While we return these dukes what we decree. Boling. I swear.

[ A long flourish. Nor. And I, to keep all this. Draw near,

[To the Combatants. Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;And list, what with our council we have done. By this time, had the king permitted us, For that our kingdom's earth should not be soild One of our sonls had wander'd in the air, With that dear blood which it hath foster'd; Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbour's Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm; swords;

Since thou hast far to go, bear not along and for we think the eagle-winged pride The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

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row:

Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, Boling. My heart will sigh when I miscall My name be blotted from the book of life,

il so, And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence! Which findis it an enforced pilgrimage. But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know; Grunt. The sullen passage of thy wenry step And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. - Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set Farewell, my liege :-Now no way can I sıray; The precious jewel of ily home return. Save back to England, all the world's my way Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I

[Erit

make K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine Will but remember me, what a deal of world eyes

I wander from the jewels that I love. I see thy grieved heart; thy sad aspect Must I not serve a long apprenticehood Huth from the number of his banish'd years To foreign passages, and in the end, Pluck'd four away ;-Six frozen winters spent, Having iny freedom, boast of nothing else, Return ( To Boling.) with welcome home from But that I was a journeyman to grief? banishment.

Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits, Boling. How long a time lies in one little Are to a wise man ports and happy havens: word !

Teach thy necessity to reason thus; Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, There is no virtue like necessity. End in a word; Such is the breath of kings! Think not the king did banish thee; Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regaru of me, But thou the king: Wo doth the heavier sit, He shortens four years of my son's exile : Where it perceives it is but saintly borne. But little vantage shall I reap thereby; Go, say--I sent thee forth to purchase honour, For, ere the six years that he hath to spend, And not-the king exil'd thee; or suppose, Can change their moons, and bring their times Devouring pestilence hangs in our air, about,

And thou art flying to a fresher clime. My oil-dried lamp, and ume-bewasted light, Look, what thy sonl holds dear, imagine it Shall be extinct with age, and endless night; To lie that way frou go’st, not whence thou My inch of taper will be burnt and done,

com'st: And blindfold death not let me see my son. Suppose the singing birds musicians ; K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou hast many years The grass whereou thou tread'st, the presence to live.

strew'd; Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps no more give;

Than a delightful measure, or a dance; Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite Aud pluck nights from me, but not lend a mor- The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.

Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand, Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ? But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;

Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite, Thy word is current with him for my death; By bare imagination of a feast? But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. Or wallow naked in December snow, K. Rich Thy son is ba upon good ad. By thinking on fantastick summer's heat 7 vice,

o, no! the apprehension of the good, Whereto thy tongue a party verdict gave; Gives but the greater feeling to the worse : Why at our justice seem'st thon then to lower ? Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more, Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in diges. Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore. tion sour.

Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee You urg'd me as a indge; but I had rather,

on thy way : You would have bid me argne like a father : Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay: O, had it been a stranger, not my child,

Boling 'T'hen, England's ground, farewell; To smooth his fault I should have been more sweet soil, adieu ; mild:

My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! A partial slander songht I to avoirl,

Where'er I'wander, boast of this I can. And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. Though banish'd, yet a true-born Englishman. Alas, I look'd, when some of you should say,

[Ereunt I was too strict, to make mine own away;

SCENE IV.
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will, to do myself this wrong:

The same.. A Room in the King's Palace. R. Rich. Cousin, farewell ;-and, uncle, bid Enter King Richard, Bagot, and Green; Au him so ;

merle following. Six years we banish him, and he shall go.

[Flourish. Exeunt K. Rich, and train. K. Rich. We did observe.Cousin Aumerle, Aum. Cousin, farewell; what presence must How far brought you high Hereford on his way? not know,

Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call From where you do remain, let paper show.

Mar. My lord, no leave take I: for I will ride, But to the next high way, and there I left him. As far as land will let nie, by your side.

K. Rich. And, say, what store of parting tears Gaunt. 0, to what purpose dost thou hoard were shed? thy words,

Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the northeast That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? wind,

Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, Which then blew bitterly against our faces, When the tongue's office should be prodigal Awak'd the sleeping rheum; and so, by chance, To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Did grace our holiow parting with a tear. Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you time.

parted with him? Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that Aum. Farewell : time.

And, for my heart disdained that my tongue Gaunt What is six winters ? they are quickly Should so profane the word, that taught me craft gone.

To counterfeit oppression of such grief, Boling. 'To men in joy; but grief makes one that words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. hour ten.

Marry, would the word farewell have iengthen'd Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tuk'st for

hours, pleasure.

And added years to his short banishment,

him so,

He should have had a volume of farewells; As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last;
But, since it would not, he had none of me. Writ in remembrance, more than things long
K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis past :
doubt,

Though Richard my life's counsel would not When time shall call him home from banish hear, ment,

My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Whether onr kinsman come to see his friends. York. No: it is stopp'd with other flattering Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,

sounds, Observ’d his courtship to the common people :- As, praises of his state: then, there are found How he did scem to dive into their hearts, Lascivious metres; to whose venom sound With humble and familiar courtesy ;

The open ear of youth doth always listen: What reverence he did throw away on slaves; Report of fashions in proud Italy'; Wooing peor craftsmen, with the craft of smiles, Whose manners still our tardy apish nation And patient underbearing of his fortune, Limps after, in base imitation. As 'were, to banish their effects with him. Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity, Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,) A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well, That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears? And had the tribute of his supple knee,

Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. friends;

Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; As were our England in reversion his, 'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt And he our subjects' next degree in hope.

thou lose. Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new inthese thoughts.

spir'd; Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland :- And thus, expiring, do foretell of him: Expedient manage must be made, my liege; His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last; Ere further leisnre yield them further means, For violent fires soon burn out themselves: For their advantage, and your highness' loss. Small showers last long, but sudden storms are K. Rich. We will nurself in person to this war. short; And, for onr coffers-with too great a court, He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes; And liberal largess-are grown somewhat light, With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder: We are ensore'd to form our royal realm; Like vanity, insatiate cormorant, The revenue whereof shall furnish us

Consuming means, soons preys upon itself. For our affairs in hand: If that come short, This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle, Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, Whereto, when they shall know what men are This other Eden,

demi-paradise;. rich,

This fortress, built by nature for herself, They shall subscribe them for large sams of gold, Against infection, and the hand of war; And send them after to supply our wants; This happy breed of men, this little world; For we will make for Ireland presently. This precious stone, set in the silver sea, Enter Bushy.

Which serves it in the office of a wall,

Or as a moat defensive to a house, Bushy, what news?

Against the envy of less happier lands; Bushy. Old John of Gannt is grievous sick, This blessed plot, this earih, this realm, this

England, Suddenly taken; and hath sent post-haste,

This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, To entreat your majesty to visit him. K. Rich. Where lies he?

Fear'd by their breed, and famous by their birth,

Renowned for their deeds as far from home Bushy. At Ely-house. K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physician's As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,

(For Christian service, and true chivalry,) mind,

Or the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son: To help him to his grave immediately!

This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, The lining of his coffers shall make coats To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.

Dear for her reputation through the world,

Is now leas'd ouit (I die pronouncing it,) Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: 'Pray God, we may make haste, and come too England, bound in with the triumphant sea,

Like to a tenement, or pelting farm : late!

(Excunt. Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege

Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, ACT II.

With inky blous, and rotten parchment honds; SCENE I London. A Room in Ely-house. That England, that was wont to conquer others, Gaunt on a Couch; the Duke of York, and 0, would the scandal vanish with my life, others, standing by him.

How happy then were my ensuing death! Gaunt. Will the king come ? that I may breathe Enter King Richard, and Queen ; Aumerle, In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth.

Bushy, Green, Bagot, Ross, and Willoughby. York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with York. The king is come: deal mildly with his your breath;

youth; For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rage the Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying more.

Queen. How fares our noble uncle Lancaster? Enforce attention, like deep harmony:

K. Rich. What comfort, man? How, is't with Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent aged Gaunt? in vain,

Gaunt. o, how that name befits my compo For they breathe truth, that breathe their words sition ! ini pain.

Old Gaunt, indeed : and gaunt in being old : Hle, that no more must say, is listen'd more Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; Than they whom youth and ease have taught And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt ? to glose;

For sleeping England long time have I watch'd More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt: before:

The pleasure, that some fathers feed upon, The setting sun, and musick at the close, Is my strict fast, I mean my children's loola"

my last

men

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