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The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more
Than a delightful measure or a dance :
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.
Boling. O, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more,
Than when it bites but lanceth not the sore.
Gaunt. Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on
thy way:

Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay. Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu;

My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where'er I wander, boast of this I can,
Though banished, yet a true-born Englishman.

[Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-A Room in the King's Palace.

Enter KING RICHARD, BAGOT, and GREEN; AUMERLE following.

K. Rich. We did observe.-Cousin Aumerle, How far brought you high Hereford on his way? Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him

So,

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

Aum. 'Faith, none for me, except the northeast wind,

Which then blew bitterly against our face, Awaked the sleeply rheum; and so, by chance, Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

K. Rich. What said our cousin when you parted with him?

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And, for my heart disdained that my tongue Should so profane the word, that taught me craft To counterfeit oppression of such grief,

That word seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave. Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen'd hours,

And added years to his short banishment,
He should have had a volume of farewells;
But, since it would not, he had none of me.

K Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis

doubt,

When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.
Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,
Observed his courtship to the common people :-
How he did seem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtesy ;

What reverence he did throw away on slaves;
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles,
And patient underbearing of his fortune,

As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench;
A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well,
And had the tribute of his supple knee,
Wich Thanks, my countrymen, my loving
friends;

As were our England in reversion his,
And he our subjects' next degree in hope.

Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts.

Now for the rebels, which stand out in Ireland;
Expe.ient manage must be made, my liege,
Ere further leisure yield them further means,
For their advantage, and your highness' loss.

K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war.
And, for our coffers, with too great a court,
And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light,
We are enforced to farm our royal realm
The revenue whereof shall furnish us

For our affairs in hand if that comes short,
Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters;
Whereto, when they shall know what men are

rich,

They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold,
And send them after to supply our wants;
For we will make for Ireland presently.

Bushy, what news?

Enter BUSHY.

Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grevious sick,
my lord;

Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste,
To entreat your majesty to visit him.

K. Rich. Where ies he?

Bushy. At Ely House.

K. Rich. Now put it, heaven, in his physician's
mind,

To help him to his grave immediately!
The lining of his coffers shall make coats
To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars.
Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him :

Pray God, we may make haste, and come too

late!

All. Amen.

[Excunt.

ACT II.

SCENE I.-London. A Room in Ely House.

GAUNT on a couch; the DUKE OF YORK and others standing by him.

Gaunt.

PILL the king come, that I

W

my last

may breathe

In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?

York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;

For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.

Gaunt. O, but they say the tongues of dying

men

Enforce attention, like deep harmony:

Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in

vain;

For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain.

He, that no more must say, is listen'd more

Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose:

More are men's ends mark'd, than their lives

before;

The setting sun, and music at the close, (As the last taste of sweets is sweetest,) last, Writ in remembrance, more than things long

past;

Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear, My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.

York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,

As praises of his state: then, there are found
Lascivious metres; to whose venom sound
The open ear of youth doth always listen:
Report of fashions in proud Italy;
Whose manners still our tardy apish nation
Limps after, in base imitation.

Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity, (So it be new, there's no respect how vile,) That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears? Then all too late comes counsel to be heard, Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard. Direct not him, whose way himself will choose; "Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.

Gaunt. Methinks I am a prophet new inspired; And thus, expiring, do foretell of him: His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last; For violent fires soon burn out themselves; Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;

He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder :
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,

Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
This royal throne of kings, this sceptred isle,
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
This other Eden, demi-paradise;

This fortress, built by Nature for herself,
Against infection and the hand of war;
This happy breed of men, this little world;
This precious stone set in the silver sea,
Which serves it in the office of a wall,
Or as a most defensive to a house,
Against the envy of less happier lands;
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this
England,

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