479Nor euer write, regreete, or reconcile

480This lowring tempest of your home-bred hate,

481Nor euer by aduised purpose meete,

482To plot, contriue, or complot any ill,

483'Gainst Vs, our State, our Subiects, or our Land.

484Bull. I sweare.

485Mow. And I, to keepe all this.

486Bul. Norfolke, so fare, as to mine enemie,

487By this time (had the King permitted vs)

488One of our soules had wandred in the ayre,

489Banish'd this fraile sepulchre of our flesh,

490As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land.

491Confesse thy Treasons, ere thou flye this Realme,

492Since thou hast farre to go, beare not along

493The clogging burthen of a guilty soule.

494Mow. No Bullingbroke: If euer I were Traitor,

495My name be blotted from the booke of Life,

496And I from heauen banish'd, as from hence:

497But what thou art, heauen, thou, and I do know,

498And all too soone (I feare) the King shall rue.

499Farewell (my Liege) now no way can I stray,

500Saue backe to England, all the worlds my way. Exit.

501Rich. Vncle, euen in the glasses of thine eyes

502I see thy greeued heart: thy sad aspect,

503Hath from the number of his banish'd yeares

504Pluck'd foure away: Six frozen Winters spent,

505Returne with welcome home, from banishment.

506Bul. How long a time lyes in one little word:

507Foure lagging Winters, and foure wanton springs

508End in a word, such is the breath of Kings.

509Gaunt. I thanke my Liege, that in regard of me

510He shortens foure yeares of my sonnes exile:

511But little vantage shall I reape thereby.

512For ere the sixe yeares that he hath to spend

513Can change their Moones, and bring their times about,

514My oyle-dride Lampe, and time-bewasted light

515Shall be extinct with age, and endlesse night:

516My inch of Taper, will be burnt, and done,

517And blindfold death, not let me see my sonne.

518Rich. Why Vncle, thou hast many yeeres to Iiue.

519Gaunt. But not a minute (King) that thou canst giue;

520Shorten my dayes thou canst with sudden sorow,

521And plucke nights from me, but not lend a morrow:

522Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,

523But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage:

524Thy word is currant with him, for my death,

525But dead, thy kingdome cannot buy my breath.

526Ric. Thy sonne is banish'd vpon good aduice,

527Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gaue,

528Why at our Iustice seem'st thou then to lowre?

529Gau. Things sweet to tast, proue in digestion sowre:

530You vrg'd me as a Iudge, but I had rather

531You would haue bid me argue like a Father.

532Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,

533I was too strict to make mine owne away:

534But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tong,

535Against my will, to do my selfe this wrong.

536Rich, Cosine farewell: and Vncle bid him so:

537Six yeares we banish him, and he shall go. Exit.

539Au. Cosine farewell: what presence must not know

540From where you do remaine, let paper show.

541Mar. My Lord, no leaue take I, for I will ride

542As farre as land will let me, by your side.

543Gaunt. Oh to what purpose dost thou hord thy words,

544That thou teturnst no greeting to thy friends?

545Bnll. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,

546When the tongues office should be prodigall,

547To breath th' abundant dolour of the heart.

548Gau. Thy greefe is but thy absence for a time.

549Bull. Ioy absent, greefe is present for that time.

550Gau. What is sixe Winters, they are quickely gone?

551Bul. To men in ioy, but greefe makes one houre ten.

552Gau. Call it a trauell that thou tak'st for pleasure.

553Bul. My heart will sigh, when I miscall it so,

554Which findes it an inforced Pilgrimage.

555Gau. The sullen passage of thy weary steppes

556Esteeme a soyle, wherein thou art to set

557The precious Iewell of thy home returne.

558Bul. Oh who can hold a fire in his hand

559By thinking on the frostie Caucasus?

560Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,

561by bare imagination of a Feast?

562Or Wallow naked in December snow

563by thinking on fantasticke summers heate?

564Oh no, the apprehension of the good

565Giues but the greater feeling to the worse:

566Fell sorrowes tooth, doth euer ranckle more

567Then when it bites, but lanceth not the sore.

568Gau. Come, come (my son) Ile bring thee on thy way

569Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.

570Bul. Then Englands ground farewell: sweet soil adieu,

571My Mother, and my Nurse, which beares me yet:

572Where ere I wander, boast of this I can,

573Though banish'd, yet a true-borne Englishman.

576Rich. We did obserue. Cosine Anmerle,

577How far brought you high Herford on his way?

578Aum. I brought high Herford (if you call him so)

579but to the next high way, and there I left him.

580Rich. And say, what store of parting tears were shed?

581Aum. Faith none for me: except the Northeast wind

582Which then grew bitterly against our face,

583Awak'd the sleepie rhewme, and so by chance

584Did grace our hollow parting with a teare.

585Rich. What said our Cosin when you parted with him?

586Au. Farewell: and for my hart disdained y^t my tongue

587Should so prophane the word, that taught me craft

588To counterfeit oppression of such greefe,

589That word seem'd buried in my sorrowes graue.

590Marry, would the word Farwell, haue lengthen'd houres,

591And added yeeres to his short banishment,

592He should haue had a voIume of Farwels,

593but since it would not, he had none of me.

594Rich. He is our Cosin (Cosin) but 'tis doubt,

595When time shall call him home from banishment,

596Whether our kinsman come to see his friends,

597Our selfe, and Bushy: heere Bagot and Greene

598Obseru'd his Courtship to the common people:

599How he did seeme to diue into their hearts,

600With humble, and familiat courtesie,

601What reuerence he did throw away on slaues;

602Wooing poore Craftes-men, with the craft of soules,

603And patient vnder-bearing of his Fortune,

604As 'twere to banish their affects with him.

605Off goes his bonnet to an Oyster-wench,

c 2 A