960982Saue bidding farewell to so sweete a guest,

961983As my sweete Richard: yet agayne me thinkes

962984Some vnborne sorrow ripe in Fortunes wombe,

963985Is comming towardes me and my inward soule,

964986With nothing trembles, at something it grieues,

965987More then with parting from my Lord the King.

966988Bushie Each substance of a griefe hath twenty shadowes,

967989Which shewes like griefe it selfe, but is not so:

968990For Sorrowes eyes glazed with blinding teares,

969991Diuides one thing entire to many obiects,

970992Like perspectiues, which rightly gazde vpon

971993Shew nothing but confusion; eyde awry,

972994Distinguish forme: so your sweet maiestie,

973995Looking awry vpon your Lords departure,

974996Finde shapes of griefe more than himselfe to waile,

975997Which lookt on as it is, is naught but shadows

976998Of what it is not; then thrice (gracious Queene)

977999More then your Lords departure weep not, more is not seen

9781000Or if it be, tis with false Sorrowes eye,

9791001Which for things true, weepes things imaginarie.

9801002Queene It may be so; but yet my inward soule

9811003Perswades me it is otherwise: how ere it be,

9821004I cannot but be sad: so heauie sad,

9831005As thought on thinking on no thought I thinke,

9841006Makes me with heauy nothing faint and shrinke.

9851007Bush. Tis nothing but conceit my gratious Lady.

9861008Queene Tis nothing lesse: conceit is still deriude,

9871009From some forefather griefe, mine is not so,

9881010For nothing hath begot my something griefe.

9891011Or something hath the nothing that I grieue,

9901012Tis in reuersion that I do possesse,

9911013But what it is that is not yet knowen what,

9921014I cannot name, tis namelesse woe I wot.

9941015Greene God saue your maiesty, and well met Gentlemen,

9951016I hope the King is not yet shipt for Ireland.

9961017Queene Why hopest thou so? tis better hope he is,

9971018For his designes craue haste, his haste good hope:

9981019Then wherefore dost thou hope he is not shipt?