A partial slander2 sought I to avoid,

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

K. Rich. Cousin, farewell: — and, uncle, bid him so; Six years we banish him, and he shall go.

[Flourish. Exeunt K. RICHARD and Train. Aum. Cousin, 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 side.

Gaunt. O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words, That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends? Boling. I have too few to take my 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 absence for a time. Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time. Gaunt. What is six winters? they are quickly gone. Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten, Gaunt. Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure. Boling. My heart will sigh, when I miscall it so, Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.

Gaunt. The sullen passage of thy weary steps Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set

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 passages; and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else,
But that I was a journeyman to grief?

2 A partial slander—] That is, the reproach of partiality. This is a just picture of the struggle between principle and affection.

Gaunt. All places that the eye of heaven visits,
Are to a wise man ports and happy havens:
Teach thy necessity to reason thus ;
There is no virtue like necessity.

Think not, the king did banish thee;

But thou the king: Woe doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.

Go, say I sent thee forth to purchase honour,
And not-the king exil'd thee: or suppose,
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'st.
Suppose the singing birds, musicians;

The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence strew'd3;
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 fantastick 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!

3

the presence strew'd;] An allusion to the ancient practice

of strewing rushes over the floor of the presence chamber. measure,] A measure was a formal court dance.

4

Where-e'er I wander, boast of this I can,
Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.

SCENE IV.

5

[Exeunt.

The same. A Room in the King's Castle.

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 by me+: except the north-east wind, Which then blew bitterly against our faces,

Awak'd the sleeping rheum; and so, by chance,

Did

grace our hollow parting with a tear.

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

Aum. Farewell:

And, for my heart disdained that my tongue

Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such grief,

That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.
Marry, would the word farewell have lengthen'd hours,
And added years to his short banishment,

5

yet a trueborn Englishman.] Here the first Act ought to end, that between the first and second Acts there may be time for John of Gaunt to accompany his son, return, and fall sick. Then the first scene of the second Act begins with a natural conversation, interrupted by a message from John of Gaunt, by which the king is called to visit him, which visit is paid in the following scene. As the play is now divided, more time passes between the two last scenes of the first Act, than between the first Act and the second. JOHNSON. + "Faith, none for me," i. e. none on my part. MALONE.

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,
Observ'd 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,

With 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 ;-
Expedient 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 8 with too great a court,
And liberal largess, -are grown somewhat light,
We are enforc❜d to farm our royal realm;

-

The revenue whereof shall furnish us

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

6 the tribute of his supple knee,] To illustrate this phrase, it should be remembered that courtseying, (the act of reverence now confined to women,) was anciently practised by men.

7 Expedient-] i. e. expeditious.

8 for our coffers ] i. e. because.

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 grievous sick, my lord; Suddenly taken; and hath sent post-haste,

To entreat your majesty to visit him.

K. Rich. Where lies 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!

[Exeunt.

ACT II.

1 (

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

GAUNT on a Couch; the Duke of YORK, and Others standing by him.

Gaunt. Will the king come? that I may breathe my

last

In wholesome counsel to his unstaied 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:

9 the Duke of York,] was Edmund, son of Edward III.