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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 licge, 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

about, 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 sorty 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, thai thou canst Or, like a cunning instrument cas'd up,

give: Or, being open, put into his hands

Shorten 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 engaol'd my tongue, 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, unfeeling, barren ignorance

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

Bui, 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 partyó 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 1 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 solenn shades of endless night. A partial slandere 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 make mine 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 will, to do myself this wrong. (Our part therein we banish with yourselves,) K. Rich. Cousin, farewell :-and, uncie, bid To keep the oath that we administer :You never shall (so help you truth and heaven!) Six years we banish him, and he shall go. Embrace each other's love in banishment;

[ Flourish. Ereunt K. Rich. and Irain. Nor never look upon each other's face ;

Jum. Cousin, 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 luke ; 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, cr 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 Nesh,

Gount. 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 sly 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 grics makes one Nor. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,

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

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

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

(E.cit. The precious jewel of thy home-return. K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thinc 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 ycars 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 hoine 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, Gannt. 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, 13) Concerted. 14) Consideration

(6) Reproach of partiality, (7) Grier

bim so;

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 saintly borne. A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well, Go, say-I sent thee forth to purchase honour, And had the tribute of his supple knee, And not the king exil'd thee: or suppose, WithThanks, my countrymen, my loving Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,

friends ; And thou art Aying 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 whereon thou tread'st, the presence Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland ;strew'd ;

Expedientò manage must be made, my liege; The Powers, 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 gnarlingi sorrow hath less power to bite K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war. The man that mocks at it, and sets it light. And, for* our coffers—with too great a court,

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

We are ensorc'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, 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 afer 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 grierous sick, my Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet

lord; 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 l'wander, boast of this I can,

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

(Ereunt. 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, Bagol, and Green; The lining of his coflers shall make coats Aumerle following.

To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.K. Rick. 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,

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

ACT II. Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the northeast wind,

SCENE I.-London. 1 room in Ely-house. Which then blew bitterly against our faces, Gaunt on a couch; the Duke of York, and others, Awak'd the sleeping rheum ; and so by chance,

standing by him. Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. K. Rich. What said our cousin, when you parted Gæunt. Will the king come ? that I may breathe with him ?

my last, Aum. Farewell :

In wholesome counsel to his unstaied youth. And, for my heart 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 gries,

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 ;: Ourself, 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. ' (3) Expeditious. (4) Because. (5) Flatter.

My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear. Is my strict fast, I mean—my children's looks ; York. No;, it is stopp?d 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 a pish nation Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me, Limps after, in base imitation.

I mock my name great king, to flatter thee. Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity K. Rich. Should dying men latter with those (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,)

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

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. On! 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 Gaunl. Methinks, I am a prophet new inspir'd; thee ill; And thus, expiring, do foretel of him:

I'll 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: Small showers 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 flatterers 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, The waste is no whit lesser than thy land. This other Eden, demi-paradise ;

O, had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye, This fortress, built by nature for herself, 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 possess'd, 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, to 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 of 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 fury, from his native residence. Dear for her reputation through the world, Now by my seat's right royal majesty, Is now leased out (I 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 drunkenlý carous'd : Hath made a shameful conquest of itself: My brother Gloster, plain well-meaning soul, 0, 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; Aumerle, 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 rage 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 attendants. Gaunt. O, how that name befits my composition ! K. Rich. And let them die, that age and sullens Old 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 För 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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silence,

As theirs, so mine ; and all be as it is.

|His plate, his goods, his money, and his lands.

York. I'll not be by, the while: My biege, Enter Northumberland.

farewell : North. My liege, old Gaunt commends him to What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; your majesty.

But by bad courses may be understood, K. Rich. Whai says he now?

Thut their events can never fall out good. [Erit. North.

Nay, nothing; all is said : K. Rich. Go, Bushy, to the earl of Wiltshire His tongue is now a stringless instrument;

straight; Words, life, and all, old Lancaster has spent. Bid him repair to us, to Ely-house,

York. Be York the next that must be bankrupt so! To see this business! To-morrow next
Though death be poor, it ends a mortal wo. We will for Ireland ; and 'tis time, I trow;

K. Rich. The ripest fruit first falls, and so doth he; And we create, in absence of oursels,
His time is spent, our pilgrimage must be: Our uncle York, lord governor of England,
So much for that.--Now for our Irish wars : For he is just, and always loved us well.-
We must supplant those rough rug-headed kerns;'Come on, our queen: to-morrow must we part;
Which live like venom, where no venoin else, Be merry, for our time of stay is short. (Flourisk.
But only they, hath privilege to live. 2

'[Exeunt King, Queen, Bushy, Aumerle, And for these great atlairs do ask some charge,

Green, and Bagot.' Towards our assistance, we do seize to us

North. Well, lords, the duke of Lancaster is The plate, coin, revenues, and moveables,

dead. Whereof our uncle Gaunt did stand possess'd. Ross. And living too; for now his son is duke.

York. How long shall I be patient ? Ah, how long Willo. Barely in title, not in revenue. Shall lender duty make me suffer wrong?

Norih. Richly in both, is justice had her right. Not Gloster's death, nor Fiereforel's banishment, Ross. My heart is great; but it must break with Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Nor the prevention of poor Boling broke Ere't be disburden'd with a liberals tongue. About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, North. Nay, speak thy mind; and let him ne'er Have ever made me sour my patient cheek,

speak more, Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's facc. That speaks thy words again, to do thee harm! I am the last of noble Edward's sons,

Willo. Tends that thou’dst speak, to the duke Of whom thy father, prince of Wales, was first;

of Hereford ? In war, was never lion rag'd more ficrce, 1r it be so, out with it boldly, man; In peace, was never gentle lamb more mild, Quick is mine car to hear of good towards him. Thain was that young and princely gentleman: Ross. No good at all, that I can do for him; His face thou hast, for even so look'd he,

Unless you call it good to pity him,
Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours ; Berelt and geldedo of his patrimony.
But, when he frown'd, it was against the French, North. Now, afore heaven, 'us shame, such
And not against his friends : his noble hand

wrongs are borne,
Did win what he did spend, and spent noi that In him a royal prince, and many more
Which his triumphant father's hand had won : of poble blood in this declining land.
His hands were guilty of no kindred's blood, The king is not himself, but basely led
But bloody with the enemies of his kin.

By flatterers; and what they will inform,
(), Richard! York is too far gone with grief, Merely in hate, 'gainst any of us all,
Or else he never would compare between. That will the hing severely prosecute

K. Rich. Why, uncle, what's the matter? 'Gainst us, our lives, our children, and our heirs. York.

(), my liege, Ross. The commons hath he pill'd with grierou Pardon me, if you please; if not, I pleas'd

tares, Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.

And lost their hearts: the nobles hath he find, Seek you to seize, and gripe into your hands, For ancient quarrels, and quite lost their hearts. The royalties and rights of banish'd Ilereford ? Willo. And daily new exactions are devis'd; Is not Gaunt dead ? and doth not lereford live? As blanks, benevolences, and I wot not what: Was not Gaimt just ? and is not Ilarry true ? But what, o'God's name, doth become of this? Did not the one deserve to have an heir ?

North. Wars have not wasted it, for warr'd he Is not his heir a well-deserving son?

hath not, Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time But basely yielded upon compromise, His charters, and his customary rights ;

That which his ancesiors achiev'd with blows: Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day ;

Morc hath he spent in peace, than they in wars. Be not thysell, for how art thou a king,

Ross. The earl of Wiltshire hath the realm in But by fair sequence and succession?

farm. Now, afore God (God forbil, I say true!)

Willo. The king's grown bankrupt, like a broken If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,

man. Call in the letters patents that he hath

North. Reproach, and dissolution, hangeth orer By his attornies-general to sue

him. His livery, and deny his offer'd homage,

Ross. Ile hath not money for these Irish wars, You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, His burdenous taxations not withstarding, You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts, But by the robbing of the banish' duke. And prick my tender patience to those thoughts North. His noble kinsinan: most degenerate king! Which honour and allegiance cannot think. But, lords, we hear this fearsul tempest sing, K. Rich. Think what you will ; we scize into Yet seek no sheller to avoid the storm : our hands

We sec the wind sil sore upon our sails, (1) Irish soldiers.

(3) When of thy age. (2) Alluding to the idca that no venomous rep (4) Taking possession, (5) Free. tiles live in Ireland.

(6) Deprived, (7) Pillaged,

And yet we strike not, but securely perish.' More than your lord's departure weep not; more's Ross. We see the very wreck that we must suffer;)

not seen; And unavoided is the danger now,

Or if it be, 'uis with false sorrow's eye, For suffering so the causes of our wreck. Which, for things true, weeps things imaginary. Norih. Not so; even through the hollow eyes of Queen. It may be so; but yet my inward soul, death,

Persuades me, it is otherwise: Howe'er it be, I spy life peering; but I dare not say

I cannot but be sad; so heavy sad, How near the tidings of our comfort is.

As,-though, in thinking, on no thought I think, Willo. Nay, let us share thy thoughts, as thou Makes me with heavy nothing faint and shrink. dost ours.

Bushy, 'Tis nothing but conceit,' my gracious Ross. Be contident to speak, Northumberland :

lady. We three are but thysell; and, speaking so, Queen. "I'is nothing less : conceit is still deriv'd Thy words are but as thoughts; therefore, be bold. From some fore-lather grief; mine is not so; Norlh. Then thus:--I have, from Port le Blanc, For nothing hath begot iny something grief; a bay

Or something hath the nothing that I grieve: In Brittany, received intelligence,

"Tis in reversion that I do possess ; That Harry Hertford, Reiynold lord Cobham But what it is, that is not yet krown; what [The son of Richard earl of Arundel, ]

I cannot namne; 'tis nameless wo, I wol."
That late broke from the duke of Exeter,

Enter Green.
His brother, archbishop late of Canterbury,
Sir Thomas Erpingham, sir John Rumstoi,

Green. God save your majesty !--and well met, Sir John Norberry, sir Robert Waterton, and I'ran- 1 hope, the king is not yet shipp'l for Ireland,

gentlemen :cis Quoint, All these well furnish'd by the duke of Bretagne,

Queen. Why hop'st thou so? 'tis better hope, With eight talla ships, three thousand men of war, For his designs crave haste, his hoste good hope ;

he is ; Are making hither with all duc expedience,' And shortly mean to touch our northern shore:

Then wherefore dost thou hope, he is not shipp'? l'erhaps, they had erc this; but that they stay

Green. That he, our hope, might have retired The firsi departing of the king for Ireland.

his power, If then we shall shuke ofl'our slavish yoke,

And driven into despair an enemy's hope, Jinp* out our drooping country's broken wing,

Who strongly hath set footing in this land:
Redeem from bruking pawn the blemish d crown, And with uplined arms is sale arriv'd

The banish'd Bolingbroke repeals himselt,
Wipe of the dust that hides our sceptre's gilt,
And make high majesty look like itsell.

At Ravenspurg.
Away, with me, in post to Ravenspurg:

Queen. Now God in heaven forbid ! But if you faint, as learing to do so,

Green, 0, madam, 'lis too true : and that is Stay, and be secret, and iyself will go.

worse, Russ. To horse, lo horse! urge doubts to them The lord Northumberland, his young son Henry that fear.

Percy, Willo. Hold out my horse, and I will first be The lords of Ross, Beaumond, and Willoughby, there.

[Exeunt.

With all their powerful friends, arc fled to him.

Bushy. Why have you not proclaim'd NorthumSCENE II.-The same. A room in the palace. berland, Enter Queen, Bushy and Bugot. And all the rest of the revolting faction,

Traitors? Bushy. Madam, your majesty is too much sad:

Green. We have: whereon the earl of Worcester You promis'd, when you parted with the king, Hath broke his staff, resign'd his stewardship, To lay aside life-harming heaviness,

And all the household servants filed with him And entertain a cheerful disposition.

To Bolingbroke. Queen. To please the king, I did ; to please my

Queen. So, Green, thou art the midwife to my wo, self,

And Bolingbroke my sorrow's disinal heir: I cannot do it; yet I know no cause

Now hath my soul brought forth her prodigy ; Why I should welcome such a gucst as grief, And I, a gasping new-deliver'd mother, Save bidding farewell to so sweet a guest Have ivo to wo, sorrow to sorrow join'd. As my sweet Richard : Yet, again, methinks,

Bushy. Despair not, madam. Some unborn sorrow, ripe in fortune's womb, Queen.

Who shall hinder me? Is coming towards me; and iny inward soul

I will despair, and be at enmity
With nothing trembles : at something it grieves, With cozening hope; he is a flatterer,
More than with parting from my lord the king.

A parasite, a keeper-back of death,
Busly. Each substance of a grief hath twenty Who gently would dissolve the bands of life,
shadows,

Which false hope lingers in extremity.
Which show like gries itself, but are not so:
For sorrow's eye, glazed with blinding tears,

Enter York.
Divides one thing entire to many objects;

Green. Here comes the duke of York.
Like perspectives, which, rightly gaz’d upon,
Show nothing but confusion; ey'd awry,

Queen. With signs of war about his aged neck; Distinguish form: so your sweet majesty,

0, full of careful business are his looks ! Looking awry upon your lord's departure,

Uncle, Finds shapes of grief, more than himsell, lo wail;

For heaven's sake, speak comfortable words. Which, look'd on as it is, is nought but shadows

York. Should I do so, I should belie my thoughts, Of what it is not. Then, thrice-gracious queen,

Comfort's in heaven; and we are on the earth,

Where nothing lives but crosses, care, and grief, (1) Perish by confidence in our security, Stout,

Fanciful cunception. (3) Expedition,

(6) Pictures, Supply with new feathers,

Drawn it back, (5) Gilding

18) Know,

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