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King Richard the second.

Returne with welcome home from banishment.
Bull. How long a time lies in one little word,
Foure lagging winters and foure wanton (pringes,
End in a word,fuch is the breath of Kinges.

Gaunt. I thanke my licge that in regard of me,
He shortens foure yeares of iny fonnes exile,
But little vantage hall I reape thereby:
For eare the fixe yeares that he hath to spend
Can change their mooncs, and bring their times about,
My oile-dried lampe,and time bewafted light
Shall be extint with age and endleffe nightes,
My intch of taper will be buint and done,
And blindfold Death not let me fee my fonne.

King. Why Vnckle thou haft many yeares to live.
Gaunt. But not a minute King that thou canst giue,
Shorten my daics thou canst with fullen forrowe,
And plucke nights from me,but not lend a morrow:
Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,
But toppe no wrinckle in his pilgrimage:
Thy word is currant with him for my death,
But dead,thy kingdome cannot buy my breath.
King. Thy fonne is banisht vpon good aduise,
Whereto thy tong a party verdict gaue,

Why at our iuftice feemft thou then to lowre?

Gaunt. Things fweet to taste, prooue in digestion sowre.
You vrgde me as a iudge, but I had rather,

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You would haue bid me argue like a father:

Oh had't beene a stranger, not my child,

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To fmooth his fault I fhould have beere more milde:
A partial flaunder fought 1 to auoide,

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And in the fentence my owne life deftroyed:
Alas, I lookt when fome of you should fay,
I was too ftit to make mine owne away:
But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tongue,
Against my will to do my felfe this wrong
King, Coolen farewel,and Vickle, bid him fo,
Sixe yeares we banish him and he shall go,

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The Tragedie of

A. Cofin farewebwhat prefence must not know,
From where you doe remaiue let paper fhew.

Mar. My Lord,no leaue take 1, for [ will ride
As farre as land will let me by your fide.

Gaunt. Oh to what purpose doeft thou hoard thy words,
That thou returoeft no greeting to thy friends?
Bull. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,
When the tongues office should be prodigall,
To breathe the aboundant dolor of the heart.

Gannt. Thy griefe is but thy abfence for a time.
Bull. Ioy abfent,griefe is prefent for that time.
Gannt. What is fixe wintersethey are quickly gone,
Bul. Tomeninioy, but griefe makes one hower ten,
Gaun. Callit atrauaile that thou takst for pleasure,
Bul. My heart will figh when I mifcall it fo
Which findes it an inforced pilgrimage.

Gaun. The fullen paffage of thy weary steps.
Efteeme as foyle wherein thou art to fet,
The pretious lewell of thy home returne.

Eul. Nay rather every tedious stride I make,
Will but remember me what a deale of world;
I wander from the lewels that I loue.
Muft I not ferue a long apprentishood,
To forreine paffages, and in the end,
Hauing my freedome, boaft of nothing elfe,
But that I was a journeyman to griefe.

Gaun. All places that the eie of heauen visits,
Are to a wifeman portes and happie hauens:
Teach thy necessity to reafon chus,
There is no vertue like necessity,
Thinke not tho King did banish thee.

But thou the King: Woe doth the heauier fit,
Where it perceiues it is but faintly borne:
Go,fayl fent thee foorth to purchase honour,
And not the King exilde thee; or fuppose,
Devouring peftilence hangs in our aire,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime:

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King Richard the second.

Looke what thy foule holds deare, imagine it
Toly that way thou goeft,not whence thou comft:
Suppose the finging birds mufitions,

The grafle whereon thou treadft, the prefence strowd,
The flowers,faire Ladies,and thy steps, no more
Then a delightfull measure or a dance,

For gnarling forrow hath leffe power to bite,
The man that mocks at it,and fets it light.

Bul. Oh who can hold a fier in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucalus?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feaft?

Or wallow naked in December (now,
By thinking on fantasticke fommers heate?
Oh no,the apprehenfion of the good,
Giues but the greater feeling to the worfe:
Fell forrowes tooth doth newer ranckle more,
Then when he bites, but launceth not the foare.

Gaun. Come come my fonne Ile bring thee on thy way.
Had I thy youth and caufe.I would not fray.

Bul. Then Englands ground farewell,fweet foileadiew,
My mother and my surfe that beares me yet,
Where eare I wander boaft of this I can,
Though banisht, yet a true borne English man.

Exeunt.

Enter the King with Bufhie,&c at one dore, and the
Lord Aumarle as another.

King We did obferue. Coosen Aumarle,
How tar brought you high Hereford on his way?
Aum. I brought high Herford, ifyou call him fo,
But to the next high way, and there I left him.

King And fay, what store of parting teares were fhed?
Aum, Faith none for me, except the Northeast winde,
Which then blew bitterly againft our faces,
Awakt the fleeping rhewme, and fo by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a teare.
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The Tragedie of

King What faid our coufin when you parted with him! ·
Aum. Farewe!, & for my hart difdained that my tongue
Should fa prophane the word that raught me craft,
To counterfatte oppression of fuch griefe,

That words fermd buried in my forrowes graue:

Marry would the word Farewel haue lengthned howers,
And added yeares to his short banishment,
He should haue had a volume of farewels:
But fince it would not, he had none of me.

King. He is our Coosens Coofin, but tis doubt,
When time fhall call him home from banishment
Whether cur kinsman come to fee his friends.
Our felfe and Bufhie,

Obferued his courtship to the common people,
How he did feeme to diue into their harts,
With humble and familiar courtefic,
What reuerence he did throw away on flaues,
Wooing poore craftsmen with the craft of miles
And patient vndes-bearing of his fortune,
As twere to banish their affects with him,
Off goes his bonnet to an oysterwench,

A brace of draimen bid, God speed him wel,
And had the tribute of his fupple knee,

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With thankes my countreymen my louing friender,
As were our England in reuerfion his,

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And he our fubiccts next degree in hope.

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Greene. Wel,he is gone, and with him go these thoughts,
Now for the rebels which ftand out in Ireland,

Expediens mannage must be made my liege,
Ere further leyfure yeeld them further meanes.
For theiraduantage and your highnes loffe.

King. VVowill our lelfe in perfonto this warre,
And for our coffers with too great a court,
And liberall larges are growen somewhat light,
VVe are infort to farm our royal! Realine,
The reuenew whereof shall furnish v, i
For our affaires in hand if that come thon,

Our

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King Richard the fecond.
Our fubftitutes at home fhall haue blanke charters,
Whereto, when they fhal kaɔw what men are rich,
They fhal fubfcribe thein for large fummes of gold,
And fend them after to fupply our wants,
For we will make for Ireland prefently.

Enter Babie with newes.

Enfb. Olde lohn of Gaunt is grieuous ficke my Lord
Sodainely taken, and hath fent poft haste,

To intreate your Maieftie to vifite him.
King Where lies he?

Bush. At Ely house.

King Now put it (God) in the Phyfitions mind,
To help him to his graue immediatly

The lining of his coffers fhall make coates
To decke our fouldiers forthefe Irish warres.
Come gentlemen,lets all go visite him,

Pray God we may make hafte and come too late,
Amen

Exeunt.

Enter John of Gaunt ficke, with the duke of Yorke, e
Gaunt, Wilthe King come that I may breathe my laЛ?
In holsome counfell to his vnfta:ed youth.

Yorke Vex not your felfe,nor ftriue not with your breath,
For all in vaine comes counfell to his eare.

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

Where words are scarce they are feldomé (pent in vaine,
For they breathe truth that breathe their wordes in paine:
He that no more muft fay,is liftened more

Than they whom youth and cafe haue taught to glofe,
More are mens ends markt than their liues before:
The fetting Sunne,and Mufike at the close,
As the laft rafte offwectes is fweetest laft,
Writ m remembrance more than things long past,
Though Richard my liues counfell would not heare,
My deaths fad tale may yet vndeafe his care.

Yorke No, it is stopt with other flastering foundes.

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