Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)/The Life and Death of King Richard the Second/Act 1 Scene 4

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Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910)
William Shakespeare
The Life and Death of King Richard the Second: Act I, Scene IV.
3596545Shakespeare - First Folio facsimile (1910) — The Life and Death of King Richard the Second: Act I, Scene IV.William Shakespeare

Scœna Quarta.

Enter King, Aumerle, Greene, and Bagot.

We did obserue. Cosine Aumerle,
How far brought you high Herford on his way?

I brought high Herford (if you call him so)
But to the next high way, and there I left him.

And say, what store of parting tears were shed?

Faith none for me: except the Northeast wind
Which then grew bitterly against our face,
Awak'd the sleepie rhewme, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a teare.

What said our Cosin when you parted with him?

Farewell: and for my hart disdained yt my tongue
Should so prophane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such greefe,
That word seem'd buried in my sorrowes graue.
Marry, would the word Farwell, haue lengthen'd houres,
And added yeeres to his short banishment,
He should haue had a volume of Farwels,
But since it would not, he had none of me.

He is our Cosin (Cosin) but 'tis doubt,
When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come to see his friends,
Our selfe, and Bushy: heere Bagot and Greene
Obseru'd his Courtship to the common people:
How he did seeme to diue into their hearts,
With humble, and familiar courtesie,
What reuerence he did throw away on slaues;
Wooing poore Craftes-men, with the craft of soules,
And patient vnder-bearing of his Fortune,
As 'twere to banish their affects with him.
Off goes his bonnet to an Oyster-wench,
A brace of Dray-men bid God speed him well,
And had the tribute of his supple knee,
With thankes my Countrimen, my louing friends,
As were our England in reuersion his,
And he our subiects next degree in hope.

Well, he is gone, & with him go these thoughts:
Now for the Rebels, which stand out in Ireland,
Expedient manage must be made my Liege
Ere further leysure, yeeld them further meanes
For their aduantage, and your Highnesse losse.

We will our selfe in person to this warre,
And for our Coffers, with too great a Court,
And liberall Largesse, are growne somewhat light,
We are inforc'd to farme our royall Realme,
The Reuennew whereof shall furnish vs
For our affayres in hand: if that come short
Our Substitutes at home shall haue Blanke-charters:
Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich,
They shall subscribe them for large summes of Gold,
And send them after to supply our wants:
For we will make for Ireland presently.
Enter Bushy.
Bushy, what newes?

Old Iohn of Gaunt is verie sicke my Lord,
Sodainly taken, and hath sent post haste
To entreat your Maiesty to visit him.

Where lyes he?

At Ely house.

Now put it (heauen) in his Physitians minde,
To helpe him to his graue immediately:
The lining of his coffers shall make Coates
To decke our souldiers for these Irish warres.
Come Gentlemen, let's all go visit him:
Pray heauen we may make hast, and come too late.