218Gaunt. Alas, the part I had in Glousters blood,

219Doth more solicite me then your exclaimes,

220To stirre against the Butchers of his life.

221But since correction lyeth in those hands

222Which made the fault that we cannot correct,

223Put we our quarrell to the will of heauen,

224Who when they see the houres ripe on earth,

225Will raigne hot vengeance on offenders heads.

226Dut. Findes brotherhood in thee no sharper spurre?

227Hath loue in thy old blood no liuing fire?

228Edwards seuen sonnes (whereof thy selfe art one)

229Were as seuen violles of his Sacred blood,

230Or seuen faire branches springing from one roote:

231Some of those seuen are dride by natures course,

232Some of those branches by the destinies cut:

233But Thomas, my deere Lord, my life, my Glouster,

234One Violl full of Edwards Sacred blood,

235One flourishing branch of his most Royall roote

236Is crack'd, and all the precious liquor spilt;

237Is hackt downe, and his summer leafes all vaded

238By Enuies hand, and Murders bloody Axe.

239Ah Gaunt! His blood was thine, that bed, that wombe,

240That mettle, that selfe-mould that fashion'd thee,

241Made him a man: and though thou liu'st, and breath'st,

242Yet art thou slaine in him: thou dost consent

243In some large measure to thy Fathers death,

244In that thou seest thy wretched brother dye,

245Who was the modell of thy Fathers life.

246Call it not patience ( Gaunt) it is dispaire,

247In suffring thus thy brother to be slaughter'd,

248Thou shew'st the naked pathway to thy life,

249Teaching sterne murther how to butcher thee:

250That which in meane men we intitle patience

251Is pale cold cowardice in noble brests:

252What shall I say, to safegard thine owne life,

253The best way is to venge my Glousters death.

254Gaunt. Heauens is the quarrell: for heauens substitute

255His Deputy annointed in his sight,

256Hath caus'd his death, the which if wrongfully

257Let heauen reuenge: for I may neuer lift

258An angry arme against his Minister.

259Dut. Where then (alas may I) complaint my selfe? ?

260Gau. To heauen, the widdowes Champion to defence

261Dut. Why then I will: farewell old Gaunt.

262Thou go'st to Couentrie, there to behold

263Our Cosine Herford, and fell Mowbray fight:

264O sit my husbands wrongs on Herfords speare,

265That it may enter butcher Mowbrayes brest:

266Or if misfortune misse the first carreere,

267Be Mowbrayes sinnes so heauy in his bosome,

268That they may breake his foaming Coursers backe,

269And throw the Rider headlong in the Lists,

270A Caytiffe recreant to my Cosine Herford:

271Farewell old Gaunt, thy sometimes brothers wife

272With her companion Greefe, must end her life.

273Gau. Sister farewell: I must to Couentree,

274As much good stay with thee, as go with mee.

275Dut. Yet one wotd more: Greefe boundeth where it (falls,

276Not with the emptie hollownes, but weight:

277I take my leaue, before I haue begun,

278For sorrow ends not, when it seemeth done.

279Commend me to my brother Edmund Yorke.

280Loe, this is all: nay, yet depart not so,

281Though this be all, do not so quickly go,

282I shall remember more. Bid him, Oh, what?

283With all good speed at Plashie visit mee.

284Alacke, and what shall good old Yorke there see

285But empty lodgings, and vnfurnish'd walles,

286Vn-peopel'd Offices, vntroden stones?

287And what heare there for welcome, but my grones?

288Therefore commend me, let him not come there,

289To seeke out sorrow, that dwels euery where:

290Desolate, desolate will I hence, and dye,

291The last leaue of thee, takes my weeping eye. Exeunt