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Richard II

Act I, Scene 3

The lists at Coventry.
 
[Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE]
 
LORD MARSHAL
           ,        ,         ,       ,         ,
      My Lord | Aumerle,| is Har|ry Here|ford armed.
 
DUKE OF AUMERLE
       T    .  T     T           ,         ,      ,
      Yea, at all points,| and longs | to en|ter in.
 
LORD MARSHAL
            ,        ,           ,        ,         ,
      The Duke | of Nor|folk, spright|fully | and bold,
        ,      2       ,         ,    2    ,            ,
      Stays but the | summons | of the ap|pellant's | trumpet.
 
DUKE OF AUMERLE
            ,          ,    2     ,         ,           ,
      Why then,| the cham|pions, are | prepared,| and stay
           ,        ,         ,      ,         ,
      For no|thing but | his ma|jesty's | approach.
 
[The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald]
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,            ,        ,        ,     ,
      Marshal,| demand | of yon|der cham|pion
            ,         ,       ,       ,         ,
      The cause | of his | arri|val here | in arms,
       ,              ,         ,     ,        ,
      Ask him | his name,| and or|derly | proceed
           ,          ,        ,        ,         ,
      To swear | him in | the jus|tice of | his cause.
 
LORD MARSHAL
           ,       ,                ,           ,          ,
      In God's | name, and | the king's,| say* who | thou art
           ,           ,             ,        ,         ,
      And why | thou comst | thus knight|ly clad | in arms?
          ,           ,           ,           ,          ,       ->
      Against | what man | thou comst,| and what | thy quar||rel,
        ,      ,        2       ,          ,            ,
      Speak | truly | on thy knight|hood, and | thine^oath,
          ,       ,            x      ,         ,
      As so | defend | thee heaven,| and thy | valor.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
           ,        ,       ,          ,        ,        ->
      My name | is Tho|mas Mow|bray, Duke | of Nor||folk,
       ,     ,         ,       ,             ,
      Who | hither | come en|gaged by | my oath,
                x         ,         ,             ,    ,
      (Which^heaven | defend | a knight | should vi|olate)
        ,           ,        ,     ,         ,
      Both to | defend | my loy|alty | and truth,
          ,         ,     ,    2     ,         ,
      To God,| my king,| and my suc|ceeding | issue,
          ,           ,         ,          ,        ,        ->
      Against | the Duke | of Here|ford, that | appeals || me:
       ,      2      ,         ,          ,          ,
      And | by the grace | of God,| and this | mine^arm,
           ,           ,      ,        ,       ,
      To prove | him (in | defen|ding of | myself)
          ,       ,       ,         ,         ,
      A trai|tor to | my God,| my king,| and me,
           ,      ,       ,         ,          x
      And as | I tru|ly fight,| defend | me heaven.
 
[The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armor, with a Herald]
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,             ,         ,          ,
      Marshal:| ask^yon|der knight | in arms,
      <- __     ,        ,        ,        ,        ,
        Both | who he | is and | why he | cometh | hither
            ,       ,      ,     ,         ,
      Thus^pla|ted in | habi|liments | of war:
           ,      ,      ,        ,        ,
      And for|mally | accor|ding to | our law
          ,         ,        ,        ,         ,
      Depose | him in | the jus|tice of | his cause.
 
LORD MARSHAL
        ,    2        ,           ,           ,           ,
      What is thy | name? And | wherefore | comst thou | hither
          ,          ,        ,        ,       ,
      Before | King^Ri|chard in | his roy|al lists?
          ,       T    T     T           ,           ,      ->
      Against | whom comst thou?| And what's | thy quar||rel?
        ,         2    ,       ,             ,            x
      Speak | like^a true | knight, so | defend | thee heaven.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
       ,   2       ,         ,      ,          ,
      Harry of | Hereford,| Lanca|ster, and | Derby
       ,          ,       ,         ,          ,
      Am I:| who rea|dy here | do stand | in arms,
           ,           x         ,       2      ,        ,
      To prove | by heaven's | grace, and my | body's | valor,
           ,         ,       ,         ,        ,       ->
      In lists,| on Tho|mas Mow|bray Duke | of Nor||folk,
        ,        2    ,        ,         ,      ,
      That | he's a trai|tor foul | and dan|gerous,
          ,          x           ,         ,        ,
      To God | of heaven,| King^Ri|chard, and | to me,
           ,      ,       ,         ,          x
      And as | I tru|ly fight,| defend | me heaven.
 
LORD MARSHAL
           ,         ,         ,       ,        ,
      On pain | of death,| no per|son be | so bold,
          ,       ,      ,        ,           ,
      Or da|ring-har|dy as | to touch | the lists,
          ,         ,         ,          ,     ,
      Except | the mar|shal, and | such of|ficers
          ,       ,       ,             ,        ,
      Appoin|ted to | direct | these* fair | designs.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
        ,   ,                   ,        ,             ,
      Lord mar/shal, let | me kiss | my sove|reign's hand,
           ,         ,        ,         ,    ,
      And bow | my knee | before | his ma|jesty:
           ,        ,        ,     .    T   T   T
      For Mow|bray and | myself | are like two men,
            ,        ,         ,      ,       ,
      That vow | a long | and wea|ry pil|grimage,
            ,         ,       ,    ,   2     ,
      Then let | us take | a ce|remo|nious leave
           ,        ,    ,            ,   2      ,
      And lo|ving fare|well of | our se|veral friends.
 
LORD MARSHAL
         2   ,      2    ,     ,        ,            ,
      The appel|lant in all | duty | greets your | highness,
             ,          ,           ,          ,          ,
      And craves | to kiss | your hand,| and take | his leave.
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,            ,           ,         ,         ,
      We will | descend | and fold | him in | our arms.
       ,            ,         ,         ,          ,
      Cousin | of Here|ford, as | thy cause | is just,
          ,        ,        ,         ,       ,
      So be | thy for|tune in | this roy|al fight:
            ,         ,            ,      ,           ,
      Farewell,| my blood,| which^if | today | thou shed,
          ,        ,         ,        ,            ,
      Lament | we may,| but not | revenge | thee dead.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
          ,        ,      ,         ,        ,
      Oh let | no no|ble eye | profane | a tear
           ,      ,        ,           ,           ,
      For me,| if I | be gored | with Mow|bray's spear:
          ,      ,        ,        ,          ,
      As con|fident,| as is | the fal|con's flight
          ,         ,       ,         ,         ,
      Against | a bird,| do I | with Mow|bray fight.
          ,        ,        ,         ,         ,
      My lo|ving lord,| I take | my leave | of you,
          ,       ,      ,         ,        ,
      Of you (my no|ble cou|sin) Lord | Aumerle;
            ,         ,         ,        ,          ,
      Not sick,| although | I have | to do | with death,
           ,        ,           ,        ,         ,
      But lus|ty, young,| and cheer|ly draw|ing breath.
       ,           ,          ,        ,       ,
      Lo, as | at Eng|lish feasts,| so I | regreet
            ,    2     ,         ,         ,           ,
      The dain|tiest last,| to make | the end | most^sweet.
          ,          ,       ,       ,        ,
      O thou,| the earth|ly au|thor of | my blood,
              ,          x         ,      ,     ,
      Whose^youth|ful spirit,| in me | rege|nerate,
        ,      2     T   T   T       ,        ,
      Doth with a | twofold vi|gor lift | me up
           ,         ,     ,      ,         ,
      To reach | at vi|ctory | above | my head,
            ,        ,         ,       ,           x
      Add proof | unto | mine ar|mor with | thy prayers,
            ,          ,          ,         ,         ,
      And with | thy bles|sings steel | my lan|ce's point,
            ,        ,      ,          ,       ,
      That it | may en|ter Mow|bray's wax|en coat,
           ,        ,          ,         ,        ,
      And fur|nish new | the name | of John | a Gaunt,
      ,        2     ,    2   ,       ,        ,
      Even | in the lu|sty beha|vior of | his son.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
         x     2        T    T     T          ,       ,
      Heaven in thy | good cause make | thee pro|sperous.
           ,       T    T   T       2     ,   ,      ->
      Be swift | like lightning | in the ex|ecu||tion,
       ,     ,          ,    ,          ,
      And | let thy | blows dou/bly re|doubled,
        ,          ,        ,       ,         ,
      Fall like^|ama|zing thun|der on | the cask
          ,        ,         ,       ,    ,
      Of thy | adverse | perni|cious e|nemy.
        ,     2        ,          ,          ,  2           ,
      Rouse up thy | youthful | blood, be | valiant,| and live.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
            ,     ,           ,        ,          __
      Mine in|nocence,| and Saint | George to | thrive.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
         ,        x         ,         ,        ,
      Howe|ver Heaven | or for|tune cast | my lot,
              ,          ,      ,             ,            ,
      There lives,| or dies,| true to | King^Ri|chard's throne,
         ,        ,         ,   ,    ,
      A loy|al, just,| and up|right gen/tleman:
       ,           ,         ,        ,      ,
      Never | did cap|tive with | a free|r heart
            ,           ,         ,        ,        ,
      Cast^off | his chains | of bon|dage and | embrace
           ,       ,       ,          ,    ,
      His gol|den un|controlled | enfran|chisement,
        ,             ,         ,          ,     ,
      More than | my dan|cing soul | doth ce|lebrate
             ,         ,         ,          ,      x
      This feast | of bat|tle, with | mine ad|versary.
             ,       ,      ,           ,        ,
      Most migh|ty liege,| and my | compan|ion peers,
        ,              ,           ,        ,       ,
      Take from | my mouth,| the wish | of hap|py years,
          ,        ,        ,       ,        ,
      As gen|tle, and | as jo|cund as | to jest,
         ,        ,       ,              ,        ,
      Go I | to fight:| truth, hath | a qui|et breast.
 
KING RICHARD II
            ,         ,        ,     ,     ,
      Farewell,| my lord,| secure|ly I | espy
       ,             ,       ,        ,          ,
      Virtue | with va|lor, cou|ched in | thine^eye.
       ,           ,      ,         ,       ,
      Order | the tri|al mar|shal, and | begin.
 
LORD MARSHAL
       ,   2       ,         ,      ,          ,
      Harry of | Hereford,| Lanca|ster, and | Derby,
          ,           ,            x         ,          ,
      Receive | thy lance,| and heaven | defend | thy right.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
         ,            x          ,       ,      ,
      Strong as | a tower | in hope,| I cry | amen.
 
LORD MARSHAL
           ,           ,         ,          x      ,
      Go bear | this lance | to Tho|mas Duke of | Norfolk.
 
FIRST HERALD
       ,   2       ,         ,      ,          ,
      Harry of | Hereford,| Lanca|ster, and | Derby,
         ,               ,         ,   2       ,         ,
      Stands here | for God,| his so|vereign, and | himself,
           ,              ,     ,          ,     ,
      On pain | to be / found false,| and re|creant,
           ,             x      ,         ,        ,
      To prove | the Duke of | Norfolk,| Thomas | Mowbray,
          ,       ,        ,          ,         ,
      A trai|tor to | his God,| his king,| and him,
            ,               ,   ,        ,         ,
      And dares | him to / set for|ward to | the fight.
 
SECOND HERALD
             ,        ,       ,            x      ,
      Here stan|deth Tho|mas Mow|bray, Duke of | Norfolk,
           ,              ,     ,          ,     ,
      On pain | to be / found false | and re|creant,
        ,           ,         ,     ,           ,
      Both to | defend | himself | and to | approve
       ,   2       ,         ,      ,          ,
      Henry of | Hereford,| Lanca|ster, and | Derby,
          ,         ,   2       ,        ,         x
      To God,| his so|vereign, and | to him | disloyal:
          ,       ,    ,             ,        ,
      Coura|geously,| and with | a free | desire
         ,        ,         ,       ,      ,
      Atten|ding but | the sig|nal to | begin.
 
LORD MARSHAL
              ,               ,   ,        ,      ,
      Sound^trum|pets, and / set for|ward com|batants:
       __          ,            ,          ,        ,
      Stay,| the king | hath thrown | his war|der down.
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,               ,          ,        ,             ,
      Let them | lay* by | their hel|mets and | their spears,
            ,        ,      ,                ,        ,
      And both | return | back to | their chairs | again:
            ,          ,        ,          ,         ,
      Withdraw | with us,| and let | the trum|pets sound,
             ,       ,            ,           ,       ,
      While we | return | these dukes | what we | decree.
        T    T   .    T      ,      2        ,         2       ,
      Draw near and list | what with our | counsel | we have done.
       ,               ,          ,             ,          ,
      For that | our king|dom's earth | should not | be soiled
                    ,    ,            ,         ,
      With that / dear blood | which^it | hath fos|tered;
      <- ,      ,          ,         ,          T   T  T
        And || for our | eyes do | hate the | dire aspect
          ,        ,             ,          ,            ,
      Of ci|vil wounds | plowed^up | with neigh|bors' swords,
           ,         ,          ,       ,       ,
      And for | we think | the ea|gle-wing|ed pride
          ,     ,        ,       ,           ,
      Of sky-|aspi|ring and | ambi|tious thoughts,
            ,      ,       ,      ,        ,
      With ri|val-ha|ting en|vy, set | on you
           ,          ,       ,     2        ,          ,
      To wake | our peace,| which in our | country's | cradle
        ,           T     Tx      T         ,        ,
      Draws the | sweet infant breath | of gen|tle sleep;
             ,           ,         ,     2     ,         ,
      Which^so | roused^up | with boi|sterous un|tuned^drums,
             ,         ,         ,          ,         ,
      With harsh | resoun|ding trum|pets' dread|ful bray,
           ,         ,          ,       ,      ,
      And gra|ting shock | of wrath|ful i|ron arms,
        ,       2       ,       T   T      T             ,
      Might from our | quiet | confines fright | fair* peace
            ,         ,    ,        2     ,           ,
      And make | us wade | even | in our kin|dred's blood:
        ,             ,       ,         ,       x
      Therefore,| we ba|nish you | our ter|ritories:
       ,            ,    ,           ,         ,
      You cou|sin Here|ford, u|pon pain | of life,
             ,       ,   ,                   ,            ,
      Till twice | five sum/mers have | enriched | our fields
             ,        ,           ,       ,       o
      Shall not | regreet | our fair | domin|ions,
            ,           ,         ,         ,       ,
      But tread | the stran|ger paths | of ba|nishment.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
             ,         ,      ,             ,        ,
      Your will | be done:| this must | my com|fort be,
            ,           ,           ,            ,         ,
      That sun | that warms | you here,| shall shine | on me:
            ,          ,        ,      .  T    T    T
      And those | his gol|den beams | to you here lent
              ,         ,         ,        ,       ,
      Shall point | on me | and gild | my ba|nishment.
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,              ,        ,        ,    2    ,
      Norfolk:| for thee | remains | a hea|vier doom,
            ,          ,       ,        ,          ,
      Which I | with some | unwil|lingness | pronounce,
       .   T    T    T            ,       ,      ,
      The sly slow hours | shall not | deter|minate
            ,        ,                 ,   , ,
      The date|less li|mit of thy // dear exile;
            ,         ,        ,      ,       ,
      The hope|less word,| of ne|ver to | return,
         ,            ,       ,           ,         ,
      Breathe I | against | thee, u|pon pain | of life.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
         ,      ,                ,   ,   2       ,
      A hea|vy sen|tence, my / most so|vereign liege,
           ,         ,      ,                ,          ,
      And all | unlooked | for from | your high|ness' mouth:
         ,       ,       ,         ,        ,
      A dea|rer me|rit, not | so deep | a maim,
       ,           ,      ,             ,       ,
      As to | be cast | forth in | the com|mon air
           ,      ,       ,          ,          ,
      Have I | deser|ved at | your high|ness' hands.
           ,        ,           ,             ,       ,
      The lan|guage I | have learned | these for|ty years
           ,       ,         ,        ,         ,
      (My na|tive Eng|lish) now | I must | forego,
           ,          ,        ,           ,        ,
      And now | my tongue's | use is | to me | no more,
                 ,   ,       ,      ,       ,
      Than an / unstring|ed vi|ol, or | a harp,
           ,       ,        ,              ,    ,
      Or like | a cun|ning in|strument / cased up,
          ,     ,       ,       ,         ,
      Or be|ing o|pen, put | into | his hands
             ,          ,          ,         ,     ,
      That knows | no touch | to tune | the har|mony.
          ,         ,           ,         ,           ,
      Within | my mouth | you have | enjailed | my tongue,
        ,           ,          ,         ,           ,
      Doubly | portcul|lised with | my teeth | and lips;
            ,       ,         ,       ,     ,
      And dull,| unfee|ling, bar|ren ig|norance,
           ,        ,       ,       ,        ,
      Is made | my jai|ler to | attend | on me:
      ,           ,         ,      ,        ,
      I am | too old | to fawn | upon | a nurse,
           ,         ,         ,      ,      ,
      Too far | in years | to be | a pu|pil now:
        ,            ,          ,           ,          ,
      What is | thy sen|tence then | but speech|less death,
              ,          ,            ,         ,         ,
      Which robs | my tongue | from brea|thing na|tive breath?
 
KING RICHARD II
           ,           ,        ,       ,       ,
      It boots | thee not | to be | compas|sionate,
       ,           ,           ,         ,           ,
      After | our sen|tence, plai|ning comes | too late.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
             ,        ,         ,         ,          ,
      Then thus | I turn | me from | my coun|try's light
           ,         ,         ,         ,         ,
      To dwell | in so|lemn shades | of end|less night.
 
KING RICHARD II
          ,       ,          ,         ,           ,
      Return | again,| and take | an oath | with thee.
       ,            ,       ,           ,          ,
      Lay on | our roy|al sword | your ba|nished hands;
        ,             ,      ,         ,          x
      Swear by | the du|ty that | you owe | to heaven
             ,          ,       ,        ,           ,
      (Our part | therein | we ba|nish with | yourselves)
           ,          ,          ,      ,     ,
      To keep | the oath | that we | admi|nister:
           ,       ,          ,          ,            x
      You ne|ver shall |(so help | you truth,| and heaven)
          ,          ,          ,        ,       ,
      Embrace | each o|ther's love | in ba|nishment,
          ,       ,      ,         ,          ,
      Nor e|ver look | upon | each^o|ther's face,
          ,       ,         ,         ,     ,
      Nor e|ver write,| regreet,| or re|concile
            ,   2     ,                    ,    ,    ,
      This lo|wering tem|pest of your // home-bred hate,
           ,      ,      ,      ,         ,
      Nor ne|ver by | advi|sed pur|pose meet,
           ,         ,         ,       ,     ,
      To plot,| contrive,| or com|plot^a|ny ill
        2      ,         ,          ,    ,               ,
      against^us,| our state,| our sub|jects, or | our land.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
          ,
      I swear.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
                   ,        ,          ,    oo
               And I,| to keep | all this.|
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
       ,            ,        ,        ,    ,
      Norfolk,| so far,| as to | mine^e|nemy,
       ,          ,               ,        ,       ,
      By this | time (had | the king | permit|ted us)
       ,             ,          ,         ,        ,
      One of | our souls | had wan|dered in | the air,
       ,                ,      ,      ,             ,
      Banished | this frail | sepul|chre of | our flesh,
          ,          ,         ,          ,           ,
      As now | our flesh | is ba|nished from | this land.
           ,          ,        ,          ,           ,
      Confess | thy trea|sons ere | thou fly | this realm,
        ,                ,        ,         ,       ,
      Since thou | hast far | to go,| bear not | along
            ,        ,       ,       ,       ,
      The clog|ging bur|den of | a guil|ty soul.
 
THOMAS MOWBRAY
       ,    2      ,         ,      ,          ,
      No *Boling|broke: if | ever | I were | traitor,
           ,         ,        ,          ,         ,
      My name | be blot|ted from | the book | of life,
          ,         ,       ,          ,          ,
      And I | from hea|ven ba|nished, as | from hence:
            ,          ,      Tx      T    .  T        ,
      But what | thou art,| heaven, thou, and I | do know,
           ,          ,        ,          ,           ,
      And all | too soon |(I fear)| the king | shall rue.
            ,         ,      T   T  T       2     ,
      Farewell |(my liege)| now no way | can I stray,
             ,        ,         ,           ,          ,
      Save back | to Eng|land, all | the world's | my way.
 
[Exit]
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,      ,        2      ,       ,           ,
      Uncle,| even | in the glas|ses of | thine^eyes
         ,           ,        ,           T   T  T
      I see | thy grieved | heart: thy | sad aspect,
        ,              ,       ,        ,          ,
      Hath from | the num|ber of | his ba|nished years
         T      T  . T     T    Tx    T        ,
      Plucked four away.| Six frozen win|ter spent,
          ,          ,         ,          ,       ,
      Return | with wel|come home | from ba|nishment.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
            ,        ,      ,        T    Tx     T
      How long | a time | lies in | one little word:
        T    Tx     T                ,   ,         ,
      Four lagging win|ters, and / four wan|ton springs
       ,           ,      ,              ,          ,
      End in | a word,| such is | the breath | of kings.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
          ,          ,           ,       ,        ,
      I thank | my liege,| that in | regard | of me
           ,         ,      ,     2       T    T T
      He shor|tens four | years of my | son's exile:
           ,       ,         ,         ,          ,
      But lit|tle van|tage shall | I reap | thereby.
           ,         ,      ,               ,         ,
      For ere | the six | years that | he hath | to spend
             ,             ,           ,             ,        ,
      Can change | their moons | and bring | their times | about
       .  T    T     T          ,      ,        ,
      My^oil-dried lamp,| and time-|bewas|ted light
             ,       ,           ,         ,         ,
      Shall be | extinct | with age,| and end|less night:
           ,        ,        ,         ,           ,
      My inch | of ta|per, will | be burnt,| and done,
            ,          ,          ,        ,        ,
      And blind|fold^death,| not let | me see | my son.
 
KING RICHARD II
           ,        ,          ,      ,          ,
      Why un|cle, thou | hast ma|ny years | to live.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
           ,       ,         ,           ,             ,
      But not | a mi|nute (king)| that thou | canst* give;
       ,     2       ,           ,           ,        ,
      Shorten my | days thou | canst with | sullen | sorrow,
            ,        ,           ,     2        ,       ,
      And pluck | nights from | me, but not | lend a | morrow:
             ,            ,        ,       ,         ,
      Thou canst | help^time | to fur|row me | with age,
            ,     ,   ,                ,       ,
      But stop | no wrin/kle in | his pil|grimage:
            ,        ,         ,          ,         ,
      Thy word | is cur|rent with | him, for | my death,
            ,          ,       ,       ,          ,
      But dead,| thy king|dom can|not buy | my breath.
 
KING RICHARD II
           ,        ,           ,    ,        ,
      Thy son | is ba|nished u/pon good | advice,
            ,          ,        ,      ,         ,
      Whereto | thy tongue | a par|ty-ver|dict gave,
       ,            ,          ,            ,         x
      Why at | our jus|tice seemst | thou then | to lower?
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
               ,          ,       ,           ,         ,
      Things^sweet | to taste,| prove in | diges|tion sour:
            ,      ,   2      ,          ,        ,
      You urged | me as a | judge, but | I had | rather
       ,       2        ,        ,        ,       ,
      You would have | bid me | argue | like a | father.
      ,            ,        ,         ,         ,
      O had | it been | a stran|ger, not | my child,
            ,           ,          ,            ,           ,
      To smooth | his fault | I should | have been | more mild:
         ,         ,         ,        ,      ,
      A par|tial slan|der sought | I to | avoid,
           ,        ,         ,         ,         ,
      And in | the sen|tence my | own^life | destroyed.
        ,         ,            ,        ,            ,
      Alas,| I looked | when some | of you | should say,
         ,            ,          ,          ,      ,
      I was | too* strict | to make | mine^own | away:
           ,           ,         ,      ,          ,
      But you | gave^leave | to my | unwil|ling tongue
          ,          ,        ,       ,           ,
      Against | my will | to do | myself | this^wrong.
 
KING RICHARD II
       ,             ,         ,      ,         ,
      Cousin | farewell:| and un|cle bid | him so:
       T    T    .  T       ,         ,          ,
      Six years we ban|ish him,| and he | shall go.
 
[Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train]
 
DUKE OF AUMERLE
       ,             ,          ,          ,          ,
      Cousin | farewell:| what pre|sence must | not know
             ,          ,       ,         ,       ,
      From where | you do | remain,| let pa|per show.
 
LORD MARSHAL
           ,         ,          ,       ,          ,
      My lord,| no leave | take^I,| for I | will ride
          ,         ,          ,         ,          ,
      As far | as land | will let | me, by | your side.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
       ,            ,         ,           ,           ,
      Oh to | what pur|pose dost | thou hoard | thy words,
             ,         ,          ,        ,          ,
      That thou | returnst | no gree|ting to | thy friends?
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
          ,          ,         ,         ,         ,
      I have | too* few | to take | my leave | of you,
                     ,     ,         ,         ,     ,
      When the / tongue's of|fice should | be pro|digal,
            ,         2  ,        ,       ,          ,
      To breathe | the abun|dant do|lour of | the heart.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
            ,         ,         ,        ,        ,
      Thy grief | is but | thy ab|sence for | a time.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
           ,         ,         ,        ,           ,
      Joy^ab|sent, grief | is pre|sent for | that time.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
         Tx    T   T          ,          ,        ,
      What is six win|ters, they | are quick|ly gone.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
          ,        ,          ,            ,          ,
      To men | in joy,| but grief | makes^one | hour ten.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
        ,    2     ,         ,           ,           ,
      Call it a | travel | that thou | takst for | pleasure.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
           ,            ,         ,        ,        ,
      My heart | will sigh,| when I | miscall | it so,
              ,         ,      ,       ,       ,
      Which finds | it an | enfor|ced pil|grimage.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
           ,       ,        ,        ,       ,
      The sul|len pas|sage of | thy wea|ry steps
         ,          ,          ,         ,        ,
      Esteem | as foil,| wherein | thou art | to set
           ,         ,      ,         ,        ,
      The pre|cious je|wel of | thy home | return.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
            ,        ,      ,   2      ,         ,
      Nay* ra|ther, ev|ery te|dious stride | I make
            ,       ,       ,       2    ,         ,
      Will but | remem|ber me | what a deal | of world
         ,        ,         ,        ,        ,
      I wan|der from | the je|wels that | I love.
           ,         ,         ,        ,        ,
      Must^I | not serve | a long | appren|ticehood
          ,        ,     ,         ,        ,
      To fo|reign pas|sages,| and in | the end,
       ,            ,         ,         ,         ,
      Having | my free|dom, boast | of no|thing else,
       ,         ,           ,      ,         ,
      But that | I was | a jour|neyman | to grief?
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
           ,        ,         ,          x      ,
      All pla|ces that | the eye | of heaven | visits,
       ,    2      T   T    T          ,      ,       ->
      Are to a | wise man ports | and hap|py ha||vens.
        ,        2   ,     ,       ,        ,
      Teach | thy neces|sity | to rea|son thus:
        T    T  T    ,         ,      ,      T ->
      There is no | virtue | like ne|cessi||ty.
        T    T          ,         ,        ,
      Think not | the king | did ban|ish thee,
            ,          ,     ,              ,    2   ,
      But thou | the king.| Woe doth | the hea|vier sit,
        ,              ,         ,         ,        ,
      Where it | perceives | it is | but faint|ly borne.
       ,           ,           ,         ,          ,
      Go say^I | sent thee | forth to | purchase | honor
           ,          ,     T  T    T      2     ,
      And not | the king | exiled thee;| or suppose
         ,        ,      ,       ,             ,
      Devou|ring pes|tilence | hangs in | our air
            ,         ,       ,       ,        ,
      And thou | art fly|ing to | a fresh|er clime:
        ,      2        T    T     T      ,       ,
      Look what thy | soul holds dear,| ima|gine it
          ,          ,           ,            ,            ,
      To lie | that way | thou goest,| not whence | thou comst:
           ,          ,        ,        ,       o
      Suppose | the sing|ing birds | musi|cians,
            ,           ,           ,           ,            ,
      The grass | whereon | thou treadst | the pre|sence strewed,
       .     Tx     T   T        ,          ,          ,
      The flowers fair la|dies, and | thy steps | no more
        ,          ,        ,        ,       ,
      Than a | delight|ful mea|sure or | a dance:
            ,        ,        ,           x          ,
      For gnar|ling sor|row hath | less power | to bite
           ,           ,         ,         ,          ,
      The man | that mocks | at it | and sets | it light.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
          ,          ,       ,     ,         ,
      Oh who | can hold | a fi|re in | his hand
           ,        ,         ,      ,     ,
      By thin|king on | the fros|ty Cau|casus?
           ,         ,        ,        ,     ,
      Or cloy | the hun|gry edge | of ap|petite,
           ,      ,    ,       ,       ,
      By bare | ima|gina|tion of | a feast?
          ,       ,      ,      ,        ,
      Or wal|low na|ked in | Decem|ber snow
           ,        ,       ,       ,          ,
      By thin|king on | fantas|tic sum|mer's heat?
          ,        ,     ,        ,         ,
      Oh no,| the ap|prehen|sion of | the good
             ,          ,       ,        ,         ,
      Gives^but | the grea|ter fee|ling to | the worse:
             ,          ,           ,      ,        ,
      Fell* sor|row's tooth | doth ne|ver ran|kle more
             ,         ,          ,        ,          ,
      Than when | he bites,| but lan|ceth not | the sore.
 
JOHN OF GAUNT
               ,        ,           ,           ,        ,
      Come*, come |(my son)| I'll bring | thee on | thy way.
          ,         ,           ,         ,           ,
      Had I | thy youth,| and cause,| I would | not stay.
 
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
            ,            ,           ,             ,       ,
      Then Eng|land's ground | farewell:| sweet* soil | adieu,
          ,        ,         ,            ,         ,
      My mo|ther, and | my nurse,| that bears | me yet:
           ,       ,         ,          ,       ,
      Wherere | I wan|der, boast | of this | I can,
              ,          ,    .   T  T    T       ,
      Though ba|nished, yet | a trueborn Eng|lishman.
 
[Exeunt]

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