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His golden uncontrould enfrahchisement,
More than my dancing foul doth celebrate
m This feast of battle with mine adversary.
Most mighty liege, and my companion peers,
Take from my mouth the wish of happy years :
As gentle, and as jocund, as "to jeft,
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,
Receive thy lance; and heaven defend the right!

Boling. Strong as a tower in hope, I'cry--amen.
Mar. Go bear this lance to Thomas duke of Norfolk.

i Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, 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, And dares him to set forward to the fight. 2 Her. Here ftandeth Thomas Mowbray, duke of Nor

folk, On pain to be found false and recreant; Both to defend himself, and to approve Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, To God, his sovereign, and to him, disoyal ; Courageously, and with a free desire, Attending but the signal to begin. [A charge founded.

Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants. Stay, the king has thrown his owarder down.

K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets, and their spears, And both return back to their chairs again :

m This feast of batil]-War is death's feast.

10 jef, )--to bear a part in a revel, or mak.

awarder]truncheon.

Withdraw with us ;--and let the trumpets found,
While we return these dukes what we decree.

[A long flourish; after which, the king

Speaks to the combatants.

Draw near,

you on

And list, what with our council we have done.
For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd
With that dear blood which it hath fostered ;
And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect
Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' swords ;
[And for we think, the eagle-winged pride
Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts,
With rival-hating envy,

fet
To wake our peace, which in our own country's cradle
Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle feep; ]
Which so rouz'd up with boisterous untun'd drums,
And harsh-resounding trumpets' dreadful bray,
And grating shock of wrathful iron arms,
Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace,
And make us wade even in our kindred's blood,
Therefore, we banish you our territories.
You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,
'Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
Shall not ? regreet our fair dominions,
But tread the stranger paths of banishment.

Boling. Your will be done: This must my comfort be, That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me; And those his golden beams, to you here lent, Shall point on me, and gild my banishment.

K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce : The fly-Now hours shall not determinate

P To wake our peace,]—by these tumultuous jars,
I segreet]-revisịt.

The

The dateless limit of thy'dear exile;
The hopeless word of_never to return,
Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.

Mowb. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege,
And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth :
• A dearer merit, not so deep a maim
As to be cast forth in the common air,
Have I deserved at your highness' hand.
The language I have learn'd these forty years,
My native English, now I must forego :
And now my tongue's use is to me no more,
Than an unstringed viol, or a harp;
Or like a cunning instrument cas'd up,
Or, being open, pur into his hands
That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

you

have 'engoald my tongue, Doubly "portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips; And dull, unfeeling, barren ignorance Is made my gaoler to attend on me. I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now; What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate ; After our sentence, plaining comes too late.

Mowb. Then thus I turn' me from my country's light, To dwell in folemn shades of endless night.

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,

Within my

my mouth

dear]-fad, dreadful, fatal. * A dearer mede, and not, &c. A better reward. tengoal'd]-imprisoned.

uportcullis'd,]-barr'd. compallionate, )-plaintive, to deplore thy fate.

(Our

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*(Our part therein we banish with yourselves)
To keep the oath that we administer :-
You never shall, (so help you truth and heaven!)
Embrace each other's love in banishment;
Nor ever look upon each other's face;
Nor ever write, regreet, nor reconcile
This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate;
Nor never by advised purpose meet, -
To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,
'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.

Boling. I swear.
Mowb. And I, to keep all this.

Boling. Norfolk,--? so far as to mine enemy ;-
By this time, had the king permitted us,
One of our souls had wander'd in the air,
Banilh'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,
As now our flesh is banilh'd from this land :
Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly this realm ;
Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.

Mowb. No, Boling broke; if ever I were traitor,
My name be blotted from the book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence !
But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do knows
And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.-
Farewell, my liege :-Now no way can I stray ;
* Save back to England, all the world's my way. [Exit.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart : thy fad aspect

(Our part therein)-Our claim to your allegiance. y regreer, ]--mutually salute, address each other in any friendly

? Jo far as to mine enemy ;)~so far have I addressed thee as mine ene. my; take my last advice friendly, as I give it.

* Save back to England, all ihe world's my way. ]-Except returning to England; the whole world beside is open befure me.

Hath

manner.

Hath from the number of his banísh'd

years Pluck'd four away ;--Six frozen winters spent,

[To Boling. Return with welcome home from banishment.

Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, End in a word; Such is the breath of kings!

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me, He shortens four

years

of
my

son's exile :
But little vantage shall I reap thereby ;
For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend,
Can change their moons, and bring their times about,
My oil-dry'd lamp, and time-bewafted light,
Shall be extinct with age, and endlefs night;
My inch of taper will be burnt and done,
And blindfold death not let me fee

my

fon, K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou haft many years to live.

Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou can'ít give :
Shorten my days thou canst with sulien forrow,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow :
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage ;
Thy word is current with him for my death;
But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath.

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdiet gave;
Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?

Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion sour.
You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather,
You would have bid me argue like a father :-
O, had it been a stranger, not my child,
To smooth his fault I would have been more mild:

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party-verdia]-was a party in the verdict.

A par

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