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Richard II

Act I, Scene 2

The DUKE OF LANCASTER'S palace.
 
[Enter JOHN OF GAUNT with DUCHESS]
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
        ,          ,       ,          ,            ,
      Alas,| the part | I had | in Glouce|ster's blood,
             ,       ,      ,          ,         ,
      Doth more | soli|cit me | than your | exclaims,
           ,        ,          ,         ,         ,
      To stir | against | the but|chers of | his life.
            ,         ,        ,      ,           ,
      But since | correc|tion li|eth in | those hands
              ,          ,           ,       ,         ,
      Which made | the fault | that we | cannot | correct,
       ,             ,       ,         ,          x
      Put we | our quar|rel to | the will | of heaven,
       ,               ,         ,       ,         ,
      Who when | they see | the hou|rs ripe | on earth,
             ,     T   T    T       2   ,          ,
      Will rain | hot vengeance | on offen|ders' heads.
 
DUCHESS
             ,        ,         ,         ,        ,
      Finds^bro|therhood | in thee | no shar|per spur?
             ,              ,    ,         ,        ,
      Hath love | in thy / old blood | no li|ving fire?
       ,           Tx    T     T     2     ,         ,
      Edward's | seven sons (where|of thyself | art one)
        ,        ,        ,             ,        ,
      Were as | seven | vials of | his sa|cred blood,
       .   x     T    T          ,               ,    ,
      Or seven fair bran|ches spring|ing from / one root:
        ,              ,    2      ,         ,           ,
      Some of | those^se|ven are dried | by na|ture's course,
        ,               ,        ,        ,    2     ,
      Some of | those bran|ches by | the Des|tinies cut:
           ,              ,    ,         ,          ,        ->
      But Tho|mas, my / dear lord,| my life,| my Glouce||ster,
       ,      ,             ,         ,        ,
      One | vial full | of Ed|ward's sa|cred blood,
            ,    2        ,                ,   ,       ,
      One flou|rishing branch | of his / most roy|al root
            ,           ,         ,         ,        ,
      Is cracked,| and all | the pre|cious li|quor spilt;
            ,       ,      2       ,          ,          ,
      Is hacked | down, and his | summer | leaves all | faded
          ,        ,         ,          ,      ,
      By en|vy's hand,| and mur|der's bloo|dy axe.
           ,           ,           ,           ,           ,
      Ah Gaunt!| His blood | was thine,| that bed,| that womb,
            ,               ,    ,          ,           ,
      That me|tal, that / self-mold | that fa|shioned thee,
        ,           ,           ,            ,            ,
      Made him | a man:| and though | thou livst | and breathst,
           ,           ,         ,           ,         ,
      Yet art | thou slain | in him:| thou dost | consent
                  ,    ,        ,        ,          ,
      In some / large mea|sure to | thy fa|ther's death,
           ,           ,           ,        ,        ,
      In that | thou seest | thy wret|ched bro|ther die,
           ,         ,      ,        ,          ,
      Who was | the mo|del of | thy fa|ther's life.
        ,    2       ,           ,          ,      ,
      Call it not | patience |(Gaunt) it | is de|spair,
      <-      ,   2        ,         ,         ,         ,        
        In | suffering | thus thy | brother | to be | slaughtered,
              ,          ,       ,   ,             ,
      Thou showst | the na|ked path|way to | thy life,
        ,          T     Tx    T        ,         ,
      Teaching | stern murder how | to but|cher thee:
        ,       2       ,   ,           ,       ,
      That which in | mean men / we en|title | patience
       .   T    T   T      ,        ,        ,
      Is pale cold co|wardice | in no|ble breasts:
        ,       2     ,          T   T     T           ,
      What shall I | say, to | safeguard thine | own^life,
            ,     ,            ,           ,            ,
      The best | way is | to venge | my Glouce|ster's death.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
         x                ,                x      ,       ,
      Heaven's is | the quar|rel: for / heaven's sub|stitute,
           ,    ,      ,       ,         ,
      His de|puty | anoin|ted in | his sight,
              ,           ,           ,          ,       ,
      Hath caused | his death,| the which | if wrong|fully
           ,     2    ,         ,        ,       ,
      Let hea|ven revenge;| for I | may ne|ver lift
          ,      ,        ,          ,     ,
      An an|gry arm | against | his mi|nister.
 
DUCHESS
        ,            ,        ,        ,         ,
      Where then |(alas)| may I | complain | myself?
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
            x          ,         ,   2    ,       ,
      To Heaven,| the wid|ow's cham|pion to | defense.
 
DUCHESS
            ,        ,     T   T    T     ___
      Why then | I will:| farewell old | Gaunt.
             ,         ,     ,      ,            ,
      Thou goest | to Co|ventry,| there to | behold
           ,        ,                ,   ,         ,
      Our cou|sin Here|ford, and / fell Mow|bray fight:
         ,        ,            ,          ,           ,
      O sit | my hus|band's wrongs | on Here|ford's spear,
            ,        ,      ,        ,            ,
      That it | may en|ter but|cher Mow|bray's breast:
          ,       ,         ,          ,         ,
      Or if | misfor|tune miss | the first | career,
          ,           ,     ,  ,               ,     ->
      Be Mow|bray's sins | so hea/vy in | his bo||som,
        ,          ,          ,         ,          ,
      They | may break | his foa|ming cour|ser's back,
            ,          ,       ,    ,    2        ,
      And throw | the ri|der head|long in the | lists,
      <-      ,         ,     ,    2      ,         ,
        A || caitiff | recre|ant to my | cousin | Hereford:
            ,          ,           ,         ,           ,
      Farewell | old^Gaunt,| thy some|times^bro|ther's wife
            ,        ,        ,           ,          ,
      With her | compan|ion grief,| must end | her life.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
       ,             ,        ,        ,     ,
      Sister | farewell:| I must | to Co|ventry,
           ,            ,           ,        ,         ,
      As much | good* stay | with thee,| as go | with me.
 
DUCHESS
           ,      T    T     T       ,             2     ,
      Yet one | word more: grief | boundeth | where it falls,
       ,              ,      ,       ,           ,
      Not with | the em|pty hol|lowness,| but weight:
          ,         ,         ,        ,       ,
      I take | my leave,| before | I have | begun,
           ,        ,     ,              ,         ,
      For sor|row ends | not, when | it see|meth done.
           ,     ,           ,        ,        ,
      Commend | me to | thy bro|ther Ed|mund York.
       ,             ,     ,             ,         ,
      Lo, this | is all:| nay, yet | depart | not so,
               ,        ,        ,         ,       ,
      Though this | be all,| do not | so quick|ly go,
      ,      2    ,         T    T   T          ,
      I shall re|member | more. Bid him,| oh, what?
            ,            ,         ,       ,      ,
      With all | good* speed | at Pla|shy vi|sit me.
         ,          ,            ,          ,            ,
      Alack,| and what | shall good | old York | there* see
           ,      ,                , ,           ,
      But emp|ty lod|gings, and / unfur|nished walls,
         ,        ,    ,        ,         ,
      Unpeo|pled of|fices,| untrod|den stones?
       .    T    T    T          ,        ,          ,
      And what hear there | for wel|come but | my groans?
             ,         ,         ,         ,           ,
      Therefore | commend | me, let | him not | come there,
           ,         ,                ,   ,   2    ,
      To seek | out sor|row that / dwells e|very where:
       ,          ,   2      ,        ,          ,
      Deso|late, de|solate will | I hence,| and die:
            ,       ,               ,         ,        ,
      The last | leave of | thee, takes | my wee|ping eye.
 
[Exeunt]

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