*A partial flander fought I to avoid,

And in the fentence my own life destroy'd.
Alas, I look'd, when fome of you should say,
I was too ftrict, to make mine own away;
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will, to do myself this wrong.

Six

K. Rich. Coufin, farewell :—and, uncle, bid him fo; years we banish him, and he shall go.

[Flourish.

[Exit.

Aum. Coufin, farewell: what presence must not know, From where you do remain, let paper show.

Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride, As far as land will let me, by your fide.

Gaunt. Oh, to what purpose doft thou hoard thy words, That thou return'ft no greeting to thy friends?

Boling. I have too few to take my leave of leave of you, When the tongue's office should be prodigal To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart. Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy abfence for a time. Boling. Joy abfent, grief is prefent for that time. Gaunt. What is fix winters? they are quickly gone. Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak'ft for pleasure. Boling. My heart will figh, when I mifcall it fo,

Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.

Gaunt. The fullen paffage of thy weary steps Efteem a foil, wherein thou art to fet

The precious jewel of thy home-return.

Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me, what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign paffages; and in the end,

• A partial flander]-The imputation of partiality.

Having my freedom, boast of nothing else,
But that I was a journeyman to grief?

Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven vifits,
Are to a wife man ports and happy havens :
Teach thy neceffity to reason thus ;

There is no virtue like neceffity.

Think not, the king did banish thee;
But thou the king: Woe doth the heavier fit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go fay-I fent thee forth to purchase honour,
And not-the king exil'd thee: or suppose,
Devouring peftilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy foul holds dear, imagine it

To lie that way thou go'ft, not whence thou com'st:
Suppose the finging birds, muficians;

с

The grafs whereon thou tread'ft, the presence ftrow'd ;

The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more,

Than a delightful measure or a dance:

f

For ' gnarling forrow hath lefs power to bite

The man that mocks at it, and fets it light.
Boling. Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frofty Caucafus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic fummer's heat?
Oh, no! the apprehenfion of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell forrow's tooth doth never rankle more,
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the fore.

Think not, the king did banish thee; but thou the king :]-
"You common cry of curs!

-I banish you. CORIOLANUS, A& III. S. 3. Cor, the prefence firow'd;]-the prefence chamber, ftrow'd with rubes. HENRY IV. Part I. Act III. S. 1. Glend.

Gaunt.

Gaunt. Come, come, my fon, I'll bring thee on thy way: Had I thy youth, and caufe, I would not ftay.

Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; fweet foil, adieu;

My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where-e'er I wander, boast of this I can,-

Though banish'd, yet a true-born Englishman. [Exeunt.

Enter King Richard, and Bagot, &c. at one door, and the

Lord Aumerle at the other.

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 fo̟, But to the next high-way, and there I left him.

K. Rich. And, fay, what store of parting tears were shed? Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the north-east wind, Which then blew bitterly against our faces,

Awak'd the sleepy rheum; and fo, by chance,

Did

grace our hollow parting with a tear.

K. Rich. What faid our coufin, when you parted with him?

Aum. Farewell:

And for my heart difdained that my tongue

Should fo prophane the word, that taught me craft

To counterfeit oppreffion of fuch grief,

That words feem buried in my forrow'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, fince it would not, he had none of me.
C c

VOL. III.

K. Rich

K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,
When time fhall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinfman come to fee his friends.
Ourself, and Bushy, Bagot here, and Green,
Obferv'd his courtship to the common people :-
How he did feem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtesy;

What reverence he did throw away on flaves;
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 oyfter-wench;
A brace of draymen bid-God speed him well,
And had the tribute of his fupple knee,
With-Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends ;-
As were our England in reverfion his,
And he our fubjects next degree in hope.

thefe thoughts.

Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go
Now for the rebels, which ftand out in Ireland ;-
* Expedient manage must be made, my liege;
Ere further leifure yield them further means,
For their advantage, and your highness' lofs.

K. Rich. We will ourself in perfon to this war.
And, for our coffers-with too great a court,
And liberal largess,-are grown fomewhat light,
We are enforc'd to farm our royal realm;
The revenue whereof fhall furnish us

h

For our affairs in hand: If that come fhort,
Our fubftitutes at home fhall have blank charters;
Whereto, when they fhall know what men are rich,
They fhall fubfcribe them for large fums of gold,

Expedient]-Expeditious.

h blank charters;]-warrants to levy money.

fubfcribe them for large fums of gold,]-enforce them by their fignatures to advance.

And

And fend them after to fupply our wants;
For we will make for Ireland presently.

Enter Busby.

K. Rich. Bufhy, what news?

Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous fick, my lord; Suddenly taken; and hath fent post-hafte,

To intreat your majefty to vifit him.

K. Rich. Where lies he?

Busby. 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 fhall make coats
To deck our foldiers for thefe Irish wars.-
Come, gentlemen, let's all go vifit him:

Pray heaven, we may make hafte, and come too late!

ACT II.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.

London.

A Room in Ely-bouse.

Gaunt brought in, fick: with the duke of York.

Gaunt. Will the king come? that I may breathe my last In wholesome counsel to his unftay'd youth.

York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath; For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.

Gaunt. Oh, but, they fay, the tongues of dying men Inforce attention, like deep harmony:

Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain ; For they breathe truth, that breathe their words in pain.