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Even to the frozen ridges of the Alps,

Now swallow down that lie.--For Gloster's death,Or any other ground inhabitable

I slew him not ; but to my own disgrace, Where ever Englishman durst set his foot.

Neglected my sworn duty in that case.Mean time, let this defend my loyalty,

For you, my noble lord of Lancaster,
By all my Iropes, inost falsely doth he lie.

The honourable father to my foe,
Bol. Pale trembling coward, there I throw my gage, Once did I lay an ambush for your life,
Disclaiming here the kindred of a king;

A trespass that doth vex my grieved soul:
And lay aside my high blood's royalty,

But, ere I last receivid the sacrament,
Which fear, not reverence, makes thee to except: I did confess it; and exactly begg'd
If guilty dread hath left thee so much strength, Your grace's pardon, and, I hope, I had it.
As to take up mine honour's pawn, then stoop; This is my fault: As for the rest appeald,
By that, and all the rites of knighthood else,

It issues from the rancour of a villain,
Will I make good against thee, arm to arm,

A recreant and most degenerate traitor :
What I have spoke, or thou canst worse devise. Which in myself I boldly will defend ;

Nor. I take it up; and, by that sword I swear, And interchangeably hurl down my gage
Which gently laid my knighthood on my shoulder, Upon this overweening traitor's fool,
I'll answer thee in any fair degree,

To prove myself a loyal gentleman
Or chivalrous design of knightly trial :

Even in the best blood chamber'd in his bosom: And, when I mount, alive may I not light,

In haste whereof, most heartily I pray If I be traitor, or unjustly fight!

Your highness to assign our trial day. K. Rich. What doth our cousin lay to Mowbray's K. Rich. Wrath-kindled gentlemen, be rulu by me charge?

Let's purge this choler without letting blood : It must be great, that can inherit us

This we prescribe though no physician; So much as of a thought of ill in him.

Deep mnalice makes too decp incision : Bol. Look, what I speak, my life shall prove it Forget, forgive; conclude, and be agreed ; . true ;

Our doctors say, this is no time to bloedThat Mowbray hath receiv'd eight thousand nobles, Good uncle, let this end wbere it begun: In name of lendings for your highness' soldiers ; We'll calm the duke of Norfolk, you your son. The which he bath detain'd for lewd employments, Gaunt. To be a make-peace shall become my age: Like a false traitor, and injurious villain.

- Throw down, my son, the duke of Norfolk's gage. Besides I say, and will in battle prove

K. Rich. And, Norfolk, throw down his. Or here, or elsewhere, to the furthest verge


When, Harry? when? That ever was survey'd by English eye,

Obedience bids, I should not bid again. That all the treasons, for these eighteen years

K. Riche Norfolk, throw down; we bid ; there is no Complotted and contrived in this land,

boot. Fetch from false Mowbray their first head and spring. Nor. Myself I throw, dread sovereign, at thy foot: Further I say,--and further will maintain

My life thou shalt command, but not my shaine : Upon his bad life, to make all this good,

The one my duty owes ; but my fair name, That he did plot the duke of Gloster's death; (Despite of death, that lives upon my grave.) Suggest his soon-believing adversaries;

To dark dishonour's use thou shalt not bave. And, consequently, like a traitor coward,

I am disgrac'd, impeachd, and baffled here; Sluic'd out his innocent soul through streams of blood: Pierc'd to the soul with slander's venom'd spear ; Which blood, like sacrificing Abel's, cries,

The which no balm can cure, but his heart-blood Even from the tonguele s caverns of the earth, Which breath'd this poison. To me, for justice, and rough chastisement;

K. Rich.

Rage must be withstood; And, by the glorious worth of my descent,

Give me his gage :-Lions make leopards tame. This arm shall do it, or this life be spent.

Nor. Yea, but not change their spots : take but my K. Rich. How high a pitch his resolution soars !

shame, Thomas of Norfolk, what say'st thou to this?

And I resign my gage. My dear dear lord, Nor. O, let my sovereign turn away his face, The purest trı-asure, mortal times afford, And bid his ears a little while be deaf,

Is-spotless reputation; that away, Till I have told this slander of his blood,

Men are but gilded luam, or painted clay,
How God, and good men, hate so foul a liar.

A jewel in a ten-times-barrd-up chest
K. Rich. Mowbray, impartial are our eyes, and ears : Is-a bold spirit in a loyal breast.
Were he my brother, nay, my kingdom's heir, Mine honour is my life; both grow in one;
(As he is but my father's brother's son,)

Take honour from me, and my life is done :
Now by my sceptre's awe I make a vow,

Then, dear my liege, mine honour let me try; Such neighbour nearness to our sacred blood

In that I live, and for that will I die. Should nothing privilege him, nor partialize

K. Rich. Cousin, throw down your gage; do you The unstooping firmness of my upright soul;

begiu. He is our subject, Mowbray, so art thou ;

Bol. O, God defend my soul from such foul sin! Free speech, and fearless, I to thee allow.

Shall I seein crist-tallen in my father's sight Nor. Then, Bolingbroke, as low as to thy heart, Or with pale beggar-fear impeach my lieight Through the falsc passage of thy throat, thou liest ! Before this outdar'd dastard? Ere my tongue Three parts of that receipt I had for Calais,

Shall wound mine honour with such feeble wrong, Dis ursd I duly to his highness' sokl ers:

Or sound so base a parle, my teeth shall tear The other part reserv'd I by consent ;

The slavish motive of recanting fear; For that my sovereign liege was in my debt,

And spit it bleeding in huis high disgrace, Upon remainder of a dear account,

Where shame doth harbour, even in Mowbray's face

. Since last I went to France to tetela bis queen :

(Exit Gaunt.

K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to command: With her companion grief must end her life. Which since we cannot do to make you friends, Gaunt. Sister, farewell : I must to Coventry: Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,

As much good stay with thee, as go with me! At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day;

Duch. Yet one word more ;-Griet boundeth where There shall your swords and lances arbitrate

it falls, The swelling difference of your settled hate ; Not with the empty hollowness, but weight: Since we cannot atone you, we shall see

I take my leave before I have begun; Justice design the victor's chivalry.

For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done. -Marshal, command our officers at arms

Commend me to my brother, Edmund York. Be ready to direct these home-alarms. (Exeunt. | Lo, this is all :-Nay, yet depart not so ; SCENE 11.The same. A Room in the Duke of || Though this be all, do not so quickly go ; Lancaster's Palace. Enter Gaunt, and Duchess of

I shall remember more. Bid him-0, what?

With all good speed at Plashy visit me. Gloster.

Alack, and what shall good old York there see, Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood

But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, Doth more solicit me than your exelaims,

Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones? To stir against the butchers of his life.

And what cheer there for welcome but my groans ? But since correction lieth in those hands,

Therefore commend me; let him not come there, Which made the fault that we cannot correct,

To seek out sorrow that dwells every where : Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven ;

Desolate, desolate, will I hence, and die; Who, when he sees the hours ripe on earth,

The last leave of tbee takes my weeping eye. Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.

[Excunt. Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper spur? Rath love in thy old blood no living fire ?

SCENE III.-Gosford Green, near Coventry. Lists Edwarl's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,

set out, and a Throne. Heralds, 6c. attending. Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,

Enter the Lord Marshal, and Aumerle. Or seyen fair branches springing from one root:

Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd? Some of those seven are dried by nature's course,

Aum. Yea, at all points ; and longs to enter in. Some of those branches by the destinies cut:

Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloster,

Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet. One phial full of Edward's sacred blood,

Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, and One flourishing branch of his most royal root,

stay Is eraek’d, and all the precious liquor spilt ;

For nothing but his majesty's approach.
Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded
By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe.

Flourish of Trumpets. Enter King Richard, who takes

his seat on his throne; Gaunt, and several Noblemen, Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine; that bed, that womb,

who take their places. A Trumpet is sounded, and That mettle, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee, Made him a man; and though thou liv'st, and breath'st,

answered by another Trumpet within. Then enter

Norfolk in armour, preceded by a Herald.
Yet art thou slain in him : thou dost consent
In some large measure to thy father's death,

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,

The cause of his arrival bere in arms : Who was the model of thy father's life.

Ask him his name ; and orderly proceed Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair:

To swear him in the justice of his cause. In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,

Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who thou

art, Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life, Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee: And why thou com'st, thus knightly clad in arms: That which in mean men we entitle-patience,

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

Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath ; What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,

And so defend thee heaven, and thy valour! The best way is to 'venge my Gloster's death

Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of Nor

folk; Caunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's substitute,

Who hither come engaged by my oath, His deputy anointed in his sight,

(Which, heaven defend, a knight should violate ! Hath caus d his death : the which if wrongfully,

Both to defend my loyalty and truth, Lct heaven revenge ; for I may never lift

To God, my king, and my succeeding issue, An angry arm against his minister.

Against the duke of Hereford that appeals me; Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself? | And, by the grace of God, and this minc arm, Goint. To heaven, the widow's champion and de

To prove him, in defending of myself, fence.

A traitor to my God, my king, and me: Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.

And, as I truly Eght, defend me heaven! Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold

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

Trumpet sounds. Enfer Bolingbroke, in armour'; 0, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,

preceded by a Herald. That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast !

K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Or, if misfortune miss the first career,

Both who be is, and why he cometh hither Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,

Thus plated in babiliments of war; That they may break his foaming courser's 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 thou Farewell, old Gayut; thy sometimes brother's wife, hither,


Before king Richard, in his royal lists?

Virtue with valour couched in thine eye-
Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? || Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!

[The King and the Lords return to their seats, Bol. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Mar. Harry of Herefond, Lancaster, and Derby, Am 1; who ready here do stand in arms,

Receive thy lance; and God defend the right! To prore, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, Bol. [Rising.] Strong as a lower in hope, 1 erse In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,

Mar. Go bear this lance [To an Officer.] to Thomas To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me;

duke of Norfolk. And, as I truly fight, defend me beaven!

1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, Or daring-bardy, as to touch the lists;

On pain to be found false and recreant, Except the marshal, and such officers

To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, Appointed to direct these fair designs.

A traitor to his God, his king, and him, Bol. Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, | And dares him to set forward to the fight. And bow my knee before his majesty :

2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke of For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men

Norfolk, That vow a long and wenry pilgrimage;

On pain to be found false and recreant, Then let us take a ceremonious leave,

Both to defend himself, and to approve And loving farewell, of our several friends.

Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your highness, To God, his sovereign, and to him, disloyal ; And eraves to kiss your hand, and take bis leave. Courageously, and with a free desire,

K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our arms. Attending but the signal to begin. --Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,

Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combaSo be thy fortune in this royal fight !


[A charge rounded. Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, -Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down. Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.

K. Rich. Let them lay by their helmets and their Bol. Oh, let no noble eye profane a tear

spears, For me, if I be gor'd with Mowbray's spear:

And both return back to their chairs again ; As confident, as is the falcon's flight

Withdınw with us :-and let the trumpets sound Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight.

While we return these dukes what we decree.My loving lord, [To Lord Marshal.] I take my leave

[4 long flourist of you ;

Draw near,

[To the Combatants of you, my noble cousin, lord Aumerle ;

And list, what with our council we have done. Not sick, although I have to do with death;

For that our kingdoin's earth should not be soild But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath

With that dear blood which it hath fostered ; Lo, as at English feasts, so I regreet

And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet : Of civil wounds ploughi'd up with neighbours' swords ; O thou, the earthly author of my blood, [To Gaunt. And for we think, the eagle-winged pride Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate,

Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, Doth with a two-fold vigour lift me up

With rival-hating envy, set you on To reach at victory above way head.-

To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers ;

Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; And with thy blessing steel my lance's point, Which so rous'd up with boisterous untuu'd drums, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat,

With harsh-resounding trunjxts' dreadful bray , And furbish new the name of John of Gaunt, And grating shock of wrauhful iron arms, Even in the lusty "haviour of his son.

Might from our quiet contines fright fair peace, Gaunt. Heaven in thy good cause make thee pros And make us wade even in our kindred's blood ; perons !

Therefore, we banish you our territories :Be swift like lightning in the execution ;

You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death, And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,

Till twice five summers bave enrich'd our fields, Fall like amazing thunder on the casque

Shall not regret our fair dominions, Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:

But tread the stranger paths of banishrpent. Rouise up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live. Bol. Your will be done: This must my confort bezBol, Mine innocency, and Saint George to tbrive! That sun, that warms you bere, shall shine on me;

(He takes his seat. And those his golden beams, to you here lent, Nor. [Rising.] However heaven, or fortune, cast Shell point on me, and giid my banishment.

K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, There lives or dies, true to king Richard's thrope, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce : A loyal, just, and upright gentleman :

The fly-slow hours shall not determinate Never did captive with a freer henrt

The dateless limit of thy dear exile ;Cast of his chains of bondage, and embrace

The hopeless word of-never to return, His golden uncontrollid enfranchisement,

Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate

Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, This feast of battle with mine adversary.-

And all unlook'd-for from your highness' mouth: Most mighty liege', -and my companion peers, A dearer merit, not so deep a maim, Take from my mouth the wish of happy years : As to be cast forth in the common air, As gentle and as joeund, as to jest.

Have I deserved at your highness' band. Go I wiglie; Truth hath a quiet breast.

The language I have learu'd these forty years, K. Richie Farewell, my lord ; securely I espy My native English, now I must forego:

my lot.

Bol. I swear

And now my tongue's use is to me no more,

But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; Than an unstringed viol, or a harp;

Thy word is current with him for my death ; Or like a cunning instrument casid up,

But, dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. Or, being open, put into his hands

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, That knows no touch to tune the harmony.

Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave; Within my mouth you have engaold my tongue, Why at our justice seem'st thoti then to lower? Doubly portcullis'd, with my teeth, and lips ;

Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion And dull, anfeeling, barren ignorance,

sour.' Is made my guoler to attend on me.

You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather, I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

You would have bid me argue like a father :Too far in years to be a pupil now;

o, had it been a stranger, not my child, What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: Whieb robs my tongue from breathing native breath? || A partial slander sought I to avoid,

K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate ; And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
After our sentence, plaining comes too late.

Alas, I look’d, when some of you should say,
Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's light, I was too strict, to make mine own away;
To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. (Retiring. But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,

K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with thee. Against my will, to do myself this wrong.
Las on our moyal sword your banish'd hands;

K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :-and, unele, bid hiin so; Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven,

Six years we banish him, and he shall go. (Our part therein we banish with yourselves.)

[Flourish. Exeunt K. Richard and Train. To keep the oath that we administer :

Aum. Cousin, farewell : what presence must pot You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!)

know, Embrace each other's love in banishment;

From where you do remain, let paper show. Nor never look upon each other's face;

Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile

As far as land will let me, by your side. This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate; Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, Nor never by advised purpose meet,

That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,

Bol. I have too few to take my leave of you, Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.

When the tongue's office should be prodigal

To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.
And I, to keep all this.

Grunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. Bol. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;

Bol. Joy absent, grief is present for that time. By this time, had the king permitted us,

Gaunt. What is six winters? they are quickly gone. One of our souls had wander'd in the air,

Bol. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,

Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak’st for pleasure. As now our flesh is banish'd from this land :

Bol. My heart will sigh, when I miscail it so, Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm ;

Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. Since thou hast far to go, bear not along

Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps The elogging burden of a guilty soul.

Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor, The precious jewel of thy home-return. Vy name be blotted from the book of life,

Bol. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make And I from heaven banishd, as from hence!

Will but remember me, what a deal of world But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know;

I wander from the jewels that I love. And all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue.

Must I pot serve a long apprenticehood
, my liege:- Now no way can I stray;

To foreign passages; and in the end,
Save back to England, all the world's my way. [Exit. Having my freedom, boast of nothing cise,
K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes

But that I was a journeyman to grief?
I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect

Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits Hath from the number of his banishd years

Are to a wise man ports and happy havens : Pluckd four away ;-Six frozen winters spent,

Teach thy necessity to reason thus ; Actum (To Boling.] with welcome home from ban- | There is no virtue like necessity. ishment.

Think not, the king did banish thec; Bol

. How long a time lies in one little word ! But thou the king: Woe doth the heavier sit, Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, Where it perceives it is but faintly borae. End in a word; Such is the breath of kings.

Go, say—I sent thee forth to purchase honour, Gount. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me,

And not-the king exild thee: or suppose, ile shortens four years of my son's exile:

Devouring pestilenee hangs in our air, But little vantage shall I reap thereby;

And thou art flying to a fresher clime. For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend, Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it Can change their moons, and bring their times about, | To lie that way thou goʻst, not whence thou com'st : My oil dried lamp, and time-bewasted light,

Suppose the singing birds, musicians; Shall be extinct with age, and endless night ;

The grass whereon thou trad'st, the presence strewd: My inch of taper will be burnt and dove,

The flowers, fair ladies ; and thy steps, no inore
And blindfold death not let me see my son.

Than a delightful measure, or a dance :
K. Rich, Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.
Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, Bol. O, who can hold a fire in his hand,
And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow: By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, Or cloy the hungry edge of apprtite,

my last

By bare imagination of a feast?

For our affairs in hand : If that come short, Or wallow naked in December's snow,

Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; By thinking on fantastic summer's heat ?

Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, O, no! the apprehension of the good,

They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold, Gives but the greater feeling to the worse :

And send them after to supply our wants ; Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,

For we will make for Ireland presently, Than when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.

Enter Bushy. Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy || -Bushy, what news? way:

Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord; Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.

Suddenly taken ; and hath sent post-haste, Bol. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, To entreat your majesty to visit him. adieu ;

K. Rich. Where lies he? My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!

Bushy. At Ely-house. Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,

K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physicians Though banishd, yet a trueborn Englishman.

[Exeunt. To help him to his grave immediately!

The lining of his coffers shall make coats
SCENE IV.-The same. A Room in the King's Castle. To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.-
Enter King Richard, Bagot, and Green ; Aumerle

Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him : following.

Pray God, we may make baste, and come too late ! K. Rich. We did observe.-Cousin Aumerle,

[Exeunt, How far brought you high Herefore on his way?

Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, But to the next high-way, and there I left bim.

ACT II. K. Rich. And, say, what store of parting tears were shed ?

SCENE I.-London. A Room in Ely-House. Gaudi Aum. Faith, none by me: except the north-east

on a Couch; the Duke of York and others standing wind,

by him. Which then blew bitterly against our faces,

Gaunt. Will the king come? that I may breathe Awak'd the sleeping rheum; and so by chance, Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you parted

York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your with hiin!

breath; Aum. Farewell:

For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. And, for my heart disdained that my tongue

Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying men Should so profane the word, that taught me craft

Enforce attention, like deep harmony: 'To counterfeit opp usion of such grief,

Wliere words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain ; That words seem'd buriul in my sorrow's grave. For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen'd hours, pain. And added years to his short banishment,

He, that no more must say, is listend more He should bave had a volume of farewells;

Than they whom youth and ease have taught to But, since it would not, he had none of me.

glose ; K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but tis doubt, More are men's ends mark d, than their lives before; When time shall call him home from banishment, The setting sun, and music at the close, Whether our kinsman come to see his friends. As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest-last ; Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,

Writ in remembrance, more than things long past : Observ'd bis courtship to the common people : Though Richard my life's counsel would not bear, How he did seem to dive into their hearts,

My death's sad tale may yet undtaf his ear. With humble and familiar courtesy ;

York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sound: What reverence he did throw away on slaves ; As, praises of his state: then, there are found Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of smiles, Lascivions metres; to whose venom sound And patient underbearing of his fortune,

The open ear of youth doth always listen: As 'twere to banish their affects with him.

Report of fashions in proud Italy;
Off goes lois bonnet to an oyster-wench;

Whose manners, still our tardy apish nation
Abrace of draymen bid-God speed him well, Limps after, in base imitation.
And had the tribute of his supple knee,

Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity,
With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends : (So it be new, there's no respect how vile.)
As were our Englavd in reversion his,

That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears? And he our subject's next degree in hope.

Then all too late coines counsel to be heard, Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. thoughts.

Direct not lim, whose wuy bimself will choose'; Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland ; "Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose: Expedient manage must be made, my liege ;

Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new-inspird; Ere further leisure yield them further means,

And thus, expiring, do foretel of him;For their advantage, and your high ss loss.

His raslı, fieree blaze of riot cannot last ; K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war. For violent fire's soon burn out themselves : And, for our coflers—with too great a court,

Small showers last long, but sudden storms are sher, And libural largess,- are grown somewhat light, He tires betimes, that spurs too fast lelimes ; We are entore d to farm our royal realm;

With eager ferding, food doth choke the feeder : The revenue whervof shall furnish us

Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

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