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K. Rich. We were not born to sue, but to com- And throw the rider headlong in the lists, mand :

A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford ! Which since we cannot do to make you friends, Farewell, old Gaunt; thy sometime brother's wife, Be ready, as your lives shall answer it,

With her companion grief must end her life. At Coventry, upon Saint Lambert's day;

Gaunt. Sister, farewell: I must to Coventry: There shall your swords and lances arbitrate As much good stay with thee, as go with me! The swelling difference of your settled hate; Duch. Yet one word more ;-Grief boundeth Since we cannot atone' you, we shall see

where it falls, Justice design the victor's chivalry.

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight :
Marshal, command our officers at arms

I take my leave before I have begun;
Be ready to direct these home alarms. (Exeunt. For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.
SCENE II.The same. A room in the Duke of Lo, this is all:-Nay, yet depart not so ;

Commend me to my brother, Edmund York.
Lancaster's palace. Enter Gaunt, and Duchess Though this be all, do not so quickly go;
of Gloster.

I shall remember more. Bid him-0, what?
Gaunt. Alas! the part I had in Gloster's blood With all good speed at Plashyo visit me.
Doth more solicit me, than your exclaims,

Alack, and what shall good old Yo k there see, To stir against the butchers of his life.

But empty lodgings and unfurnish'd walls, But since correction lieth in those hands,

Unpeopled offices, untrodden stones ? Which made the fault that we cannot correct,

And what cheer there for welcome, but my groans ? Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;

Therefore commend me; let him not come there, Who, when he sees the hours ripe on earth,

To seek out sorrow that dwells every where : Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.

Desolate, desolate, will I hence, and die ; Duch. Finds brotherhood in thee no sharper The last leave of thee takes my weeping eye.

(Exeunt. Hath love in thy old blood no living fire ? Edward's seven sons, whereof thyself art one,

SCENE III.-Gosford Green, near Coventry. Were as seven phials of his sacred blood,

Lists set out, and a throne. Heralds, fc. alOr seven fair branches springing from one root :

tending. Enter the Lord Marshal, and Aumerle. Some of those seven are dried by nature's course, Mar. My lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm’d? Some of those branches by the destinies cut:

Aum. Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in. But Thomas, my dear lord, my life, my Gloster, Mar. The duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold, One phial full of Edward's sacred blood,

Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet, One flourishing branch of his most royal root, - Aum. Why then, the champions are prepar'd, Is erack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt

and stay, Is hack'd down, and his summer leaves all faded, For nothing but his majesty's approach. By envy's hand, and murder's bloody axe. Ah, Gaunt! his blood was thine ; that bed, that Flourish of trumpets. Enter King Richard, who womb,

takes his seat on his throne; Gaunt, and several That metal, that self-mould, that fashion'd thee, noblemen, who take their places. A trumpet is Made him a man; and though thou liv'st, and sounded, and answered by another trumpet withbreath'st,

in. Then enter Norfolk in armour, preceded by Yet art thou slain in him : thou dost consent a herald. In some large measure to thy father's death, In that thou seest thy wretched brother die,

K. Rich. Marshal, demand of yonder champion Who was the model of thy father's life.

The cause of his arrival here in arms: Call it not patience, Gaunt, it is despair:

Ask him his name; and orderly proceed In suffering thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,

To swear him in the justice of his cause. Thou show'st the naked pathway to thy life,

Mar. In God's name, and the king's, say who Teaching stern murder how to butcher thee:

thou art, That which in mean men we entitle-patience,

And why thou com’st, thus knightly clad in arms : Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

Against what man thou com'st, and what thy What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,

quarrel: The best way is—to 'venge my Gloster's death.

Speak truly, on thy knighthood, and thy oath; Gaunt. Heaven's is the quarrel; for heaven's And so defend the heaven, and thy valour! substitute,

Nor. My name is Thomas Mowbray, duke of His deputy anointed in his sight,

Norfolk;
Hath caus’d his death: the which is wrongfully, (Which, heaven defend, a knight should violate !)

Who hither come engaged by my oath
Let heaven revenge ; for I may never list
An angry arm against his minister.

Both to defend my loyalty and truth,
Duch, Where
then, alas! may I complain myself? To God, my king,

and my succeeding issue, Gaunt. To heaven, the widow's champion and Against the duke of Hereford that appeals me; defence.

And, by the grace of God, and this mine arm, Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt. To prove him, in defending of myself, Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold

A traitor to my God, my king, and me: Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight :

And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven! O, sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,

(He takes his seal.. That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast ! Or, if misfortune miss the first career,

Trumpet sounds. Enter Bolingbroke in armour, Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom,

preceded by a herald. That they may break his foaming courser's back, K. Rich. Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms,

Both who he is, and why he cometh hither (1) Reconcile. (2) Show. (3) Relationship. (4) Assent.

(5) A base villain. (6) Cowardly, (7) Her house in Essex.

arms.

Thus plated in habiliments of war;

Cast off his chains of bondage, and embrace And formally according to our law

His golden uncontroll’d enfranchisement, Depose him in the justice of his cause.

More than my dancing soul doth celebrate Mar. What is thy name? and wherefore com’st This feast of battle with mine adversary. thou hither,

Most mighty liege,--and my companion peers,
Before king Richard, in his royal lists ?

Take from my mouth the wish of happy years :
Against whom comest thou; and what's thy quarrel? As gentle and as jocund, as to jest,
Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven! Go I to fight; Truth hath a quiet breast.
Boling: Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and K. Rich. Farewell, my lord: securely I espy
Derby,

Virtue with valour couched in thine eye.-
Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
To prove, by heaven's grace, and my body's valour, [The King and the Lords return to their seats.
In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, duke of Norfolk, Mar. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby,
That he's a traitor, foul and dangerous,

Receive thy lance: and God defend the right! To God of heaven, king Richard, and to me; Boling. (Rising.) Strong as a tower in hope, I And, as I truly fight, defend me heaven!

cry-amen. Mar. On pain of death, no person be so bold, Mar. Go bear this lance (To on officer.] to Or daring-hardy, as to touch the lists;

Thomas duke of Norfolk. Except the marshal, and such officers

1 Her. Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, Appointed to direct these sair designs.

Stands here for God, his sovereign, and himself, Boling: Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's On pain to be found false and recreant, hand,

To prove the duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, And bow my knee before his majesty:

A traitor to his God, his king, and him, For Mowbray, and myself, are like two men And dares him to set forward to the fight. That vow a long and weary pilgrimage;

2 Her. Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, duke Then let us take a ceremonious leave,

of Norfolk, And loving farewell, of our several friends. On pain to be found false and recreant, Mar. The appellant in all duty greets your high- Both to defend himself, and to approve ness,

Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, And craves to kiss your hand, and take his leave. To God, his sovereign, and to him, disloyal; K. Rich. We will descend, and fold him in our Courageously, and with a free desire,

Ai ending but the signal to begin. Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right,

Mar. Sound, trumpets; and set forward, com So be thy fortune in this roval fight!

batants.

| A charge sounded. Farewell, my blood; which is 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 Boling. O, let no noble eve 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 Night

Withdraw 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

(A long flourish. leave 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 kingdom's earth should not be soil'd But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath.- With that dear blood which it hath fostered ;* Lo, as at Engli-h feasts, so I regreet

And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: or civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' O thou, the earthly author of my blood,

swords ;

'[To Gaunt. And for we think the cagle-winged pride Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Of skv-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 my head,

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

Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, Which so rous'd up with boisterous untun'd drums, That it may enter M wbray's waxen' coat, With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, And furbish? new the nime of John of Gaunt, And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, Even in the lusty 'haviour of his son.

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

Therefore, we banish you our territories :-
Be swill, like lightning, in the execution ; You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death,
And let hy blows, doubly redoubled,

Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields,
Fall, like amazino thunder, on the casques Shall not regreet our fair dominions,
Orthy advérse pernicious enemy:

But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
Rouse up thy vouthful blood, be valiant, and live. Boling. Your will be done : This must my com-
Boling. Mine innocency, and Saint George to fort be,-
thrive!

(He takes his seat. That sun, that warms you here, shall shine on me;
Nor. (Rising.) However heaven, or fortune, cast And those his golden beams, to you here lent,
my lot,

Shall point on me, and gild my banishment. There lives or dies, true to king Richard's throne, K. Rich. Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier A loyal, just, and upright gentleman:

doom, Never did captive with a freer heart

Which I with some unwillingness pronounce :

The fly-slow hours shall not determinate (!) Yielding. (2) Brighten up. (3) Helmet. (4) Play a part in a mask.

(5) Truncheon. (6) Nursed.

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about,

The dateless limit of thy dear exile ;

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me, The hopeless word of-never to return, He shortens four years of my son's exile : Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life. But little vantage shall I reap thereby;

Nor. A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, For, ere the six years, that he hath to spend, And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth : Can change their moons, and bring their times A dearer merit, not so deep a maim As to be cast forth in the common air,

My oil-dried lamp, and time-bewasted light, Have I deserved at your highness' hand. Shall be extinct with age, and endless night; The language I have learn'd these forty years, My inch of taper will be burnt and done, My native English, now I must forego:

And blindfold death not let me see my son. And now my tongue's use is to me no more, K. Rich. Why, uncle, thou hast many years to live. Than an unstringed viol, or a harp,

Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst Or, like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

give: Or, being open, put into his hands

Shorien my days thou canst with sullen sorrow, That knows no touch to tune the harmony. And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow: Within my mouth you have engaold my iongue, Thou canst help time to furrow me with age, Doubly portcullis'd,' with my teeth, and lips ; But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage; And dull, unseeling, barren ignorance

Thy word is current with him for my death; Is made my gaoler to attend on me.

Bu', dead, thy kingdom cannot buy my breath. I am too old to fawn upon a nurse,

K. Rich. Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, Too far in years to be a pupil now;

Whereto thy tongue a party: verdict gave; What is thy sentence then, but speechless death, Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lower ? Which robs my tongue from breathing native Gaunt. Things sweet to taste, prove in digestion breath?

sour. K. Rich. It boots thee not to be compassionate ;? You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather, After our sentence, plaining comes too late. You would have bid me argue like a father :Nor. Then thus I turn me from my country's O, had it been a stranger, not my child, light,

To smooth his fault I should have been more mild: To dwell in solemn shades of endless night. A partial slanders sought I to avoid,

(Retiring. And in the sentence my own life destroy'd. K. Rich. Return again, and take an oath with Alas, I look’d, when some of you should say, thee.

I was too strict, to inake mide own away: Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue, Swear by the duty that you owe to heaven, Against my vill, to do myself this wrong. (Our part therein we banish with yourselves,) K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :-and, uncle, bid To keep the oath that we adıninister:You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!) Six years we bani-h him, and he shall go. Embrace each other's love in banishment;

(Flourish. Exeunt K. Rich. and train. Nor never look upon each other's face;

Aum. Consin, farewell: what presence must Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile

not know, This lowering tempest of your home-bred hate; From where you do remain, let paper show. Nor never by advised' purpose meet,

Mar. My lord, no leave take l ; for I will ride, To plot, contrive, or complot any ill,

As far as land will let me, by your side. 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land. Gaunt. 0, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy Boling. I swear.

words, Nor. And I, to keep all this.

That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ? Boling. Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy;- Boling I have too few to take my leave of you, By this time, had the king permitted us,

When the tongue's office should be prodigal One of our souls had wander'd in the air,

To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh,

Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time. As now our flesh is banish'd from this land : Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time. Confess thy treasons, ere thou fly the realm ; Gauni. What is six winters? they are quickly Since thou hast far to go, bear not along

gone. The clogging burden of a guilty soul.

Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one Nor. No, Bolingbroke ; if ever I were traitor,

hour ten. My name be blotted from the book of life,

Gaunt. Cail it a travel that thou tak'st for And I from heaven banish'd, as from hence!

pleasure. But what thou art, heaven, thou, and I do know; BolingMy heart will sigh, when I miscall it so, And all too soon, I lear, the king shall rue.- Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage. Farewell, my liege:-Now no wav can I stray; Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps Save back to England, all the world's my way: Estcem a foil, wherein thou art to set

(Erit. The precious jewel of thy home-return. K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make I see thy grieved heart: thy sad aspect

Will but remember me, what a deal of world Hath from the number of his banish'd years I wander from the jewels that I love. Pluck'd four away ;--Six frozen winters spent, Must I not serve a long apprenticehood Return (To Boling.) with welcome home from To foreign passages;, and in the end, banishment.

Having my freedom, boast of nothing else, Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! But that I was a journeyman to grief? Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits, End in a word; Such is the breath of kings. Are to a wise man ports and happy havens :

(1) Barred. (2) To move compassion. (5) Had a part or share. (3) Concerted. (4) Consideration.

(6) Reproach of partiality. (7) Grief.

him so;

lord ;

Teach thy necessity to reason thus ;

Wooing poor craftsmen, with the craft of smiles, There is no virtue like necessity.

And patient underbearing of his fortune, Think not, the king did banish thee;

As 'twere, to banish their affects with him. But thou the king: Wo doth the heavier sit, off goes his bonnet to an oyster-Wench; Where it perceives it is but faintly borne. A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well, Go, say-1 sent thee forth to purchase honour, And had the tribute of his supple knee, And not-the king exil'd thee: or suppose,

With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loring Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,

friends ; And thou art flying to a fresher clime.

As were our England in reversion his, Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it And he our subjects' next degree in hope. To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'st: Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these Suppose the singing birds, musicians;

thoughts. The grass whereou thou' tread’st, the presence Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland;strew'd ;

Expedient manage must be made, my liege; The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more Ere further leisure yield them further means, Than a delightful measure, or a dance:

For their advantage, and your highness' loss. For gnarling2 sorrow hath less power to bite K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war. The man that mucks at it, and sets it light. And, for our coflers-with too great a court,

Boling. 0, who can hold a fire in his hand, And liberal largess, -are grown somewhat light, By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?

We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm; Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

The revenue whereof shall furnish us By bare imagination of a feast?

For our affairs in hand : If that come short, Or wallow naked in December 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 0, no! the apprehension of the good,

They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold, Gives but the greater sceling 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. Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on

Enter Bushy thy way:

Bushy, what news ? Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay. Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu

Suddenly taken ; and hath sent post-haste, My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! To entreat your majesty to visit him. Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,

K. Rich. Where lies he? Though banish'd, yet a true-born Englishman. Bushy. At Ely-house.

(Exeunt. K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physician's SCENE IV.-The same. A room in the king's To help him to his grave immediately!

mind, castle. Enter King Richard, Bagot, and Green ; The lining of his coffers shall make coats Aumerle following.

To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.K. Rich. We did observe.--Cousin Aumerle, Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: How far brought you high Hereford on his way? Pray God, we may make haste, and come too late! Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so,

(Exeunt

. But to the next highway, and there I left him. K. Rich. And, say, what store of parting tears

were shed ? Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the north

ACT II. east wind,

SCENE 1.-London. A room in Ely-houst. Which then blew bitterly against our faces, Awak'd the sleeping rheum; and so by chance,

Gaunt on a couch; the Duke of York, and others, Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

standing by him. K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you parted Gaunt. Will the king come ? that I may breathe

with him? Aum. Farewell :

In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. And, for my beart disdained that my tongue York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your Should so profane the word, that taught me craft

breath; To counterfeit oppression of such grief,

For all in vain comes counsel to his ear. That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. Gaunt. O, but they say, the tongues of dying men Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen's Enforce attention, like deep harmony: hours,

Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in And added years to his short banishment,

vain; He should have had a volume of farewells; For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in But, since it would not, he had none of me.

pain. K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt, He, that no more must say, is listen'd more When time shall call him home from banishment, Than they whom youth and ease have taught to Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.

glose ;' Ourselt, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green, More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives before : Observ'd his courtship to the common people :- The setting sun, and music at the close, How he did seem to dive into their hearts, As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last; With humble and familiar courtesy ;

Writ in remembrance, more than things long past: What reverence he did throw away on slaves; Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, (1) Presence-chamber at court. (2) Growling. I (3) Expeditions. (4) Because.

(5) Flatter.

my last,

My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Is my strict fast, I mean—my children's looks ; York. No;, it is stoppd with other flattering And, therein fasting, hast thou made me gaunt": sounds,

Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave, As, praises of his state : then, there are found Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones. Lascivious metres ; to whose venom sound K. Rich. Can sick men play so nicely with their The open ear of youth doth always listen:

names ? Report of fashions in proud Italy;

Gaunt. No, misery makes sport to mock itself: Whose manners still our tardy apish nation Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, Limps after, in base imitation.

I mock my name great king, to fatter thee. Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity

K. Rich. Should dying men flatter with those (So it be new, there's no respect how vile, )

that live? That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears?

Gaunt. No, no; men living flatter those that die. Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, K. Rich. Thou, now a dying, say'st-thou flatWhere will doth mutiny with wit's regard.

terest me. Direct not him, whose way himself will choose ; Gaunt. Oh! no; thou diest, though I the sicker be. 'Tis breath thou lack’st, and that breath wilt thou K. Rich. I am in health, I breathe, and see thee ill ? lose.

Gaunt. Now, He that made me, knows I see Gaunt. Methinks, I am a prophet new inspir'd;

thee ill'; And thus, expiring, do foretel of him:

III in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill. His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last;

Thy death-bed is no lesser than the land,
For violent fires soon burn out themselves : Wherein thou liest in reputation sick:
Smallshowers last long, but sudden storms are short; And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
He tires betimes, that spurs too fast betimes ; Commit'st thy anointed body to the cure
With eager feeding, food doth choke the feeder: Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

A thousand Natterers sit within thy crown,
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself. Whose compass is no bigger than thy head ;
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, T'he waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

0, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, This fortress, built by nature for hersell, Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons, Against infection, and the hand of war;

From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame; This happy breed of men, this little world; Deposing thee before thou wert possessid, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which art possess'd' now to depose thyself. Which serves it in the office of a wall,

Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world, Or as a moat defensive to a house,

It were a shame to let this land by lease: Against the envy of less happier lands:

But, for thy world, enjoying but this land, This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this Is it not more than shame, lo shame it so? England,

Landlord of England art thou now, not king : This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings, Thy state of law is bondslave to the law; Fear’d by their breed, and famous by their birth, And thou-Renowned for their deeds as far from home

K. Rich. a lunatic lean-witted fool, (For Christian service, and true chivalry,) Presuming on an ague's privilege, Às is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry,

Dar'st with thy frozen admonition or the world's ransom, blessed Mary's son: Make pale our cheek; chasing the royal blood, This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land, With sury, from his native residence. Dear for her reputation through the world, Now by my seat's right royal majesty, Is now leased out (1 die pronouncing it,)

Wert thou 'not brother to great Edward's son, Like to a tenement or pelting' farm:

This tongue that runs so roundly in thy head, England, bound in with the triumphant sea, Should run thy head from thy unreverend shoulders. Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege Gaunt. O, spare me not, my brother Edward's son, of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame, For that I was his father Edward's son; With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds ; That blood already, like the pelican, That England, that was wont to conquer others, Hast thou tapp'd out, and drunkenly carous'd : Hath made a shameful conquest of itself: My brother Gloster, plain well-meaning soul, O, would the scandal vanish with my life, (Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls !) How happy then were my ensuing death! May be a precedent and witness good,

That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood : Enter King Richard, and Queen; Auinerle, Bushy, Join with the present sickness that I have;

Green, Bagot, Ross, and Willoughby. And thy unkindness be like crooked age, York. The king is come: deal mildly with his To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower. youth;

Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee! For young hot colts, being rag'd, do rate the more. These words hereafter thy tormentors be!

Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster ? Convey me to my bed, then to my grave: K. Rich. What comfort, man ? How is't with Love they to live, that love and honour have. aged Gaunt?

[Exit, borne out by his altendants. Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition ! K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens Ola Gaunt, indeed; and gaunt in being old :

have ; Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast; For both hast thou, and both become the grave. And who abstains from meat, that is not gaunt ? York. 'Beseech your majesty, impute his words For sleeping England long time have

I watch'd ; To wayward sickliness and age in him: Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt : He loves you, on my life, and holds you dear The pleasure, that some fathers feed upon, As Harry, duke of Hereford, were he here.

K. Rich. Right ; you say true as Hereford's (1) Paltry. (2) Lean, thin. (3) Mad.

love, so his:

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