As now our flesh is banish'd from this Land,
Confefs thy treasons, ere thou fly this Realm;
Since thou haft far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty foul.

Mowb. No, Bolingbroke; if ever I were traitor,
My Name be blotted from the Book of life,
And I from heaven banish'd as from hence!
But what thou art, heav'n, thou, and I do know,
And all too foon, I fear, the King fhall rue.
Farewel, my Liege. Now no way can I stray,
Save back to England; all the world's my way'. [Exit.

SCENE V.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glaffes of thine eyes I fee thy grieved heart, thy fad afpect Hath from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away.-Six frozen winters fpent, [To Bol. Return with Welcome home from Banishment.

Bolingb. How long a time lies in one little word! Four lagging Winters, and four wanton Springs, End in a word; fuch is the Breath of Kings. Gaunt. I thank my Liege, that in regard of me He fhortens four years of my fon's exile: But little vantage fhall I reap thereby; For ere the fix years, that he hath to spend, Can change their moons and bring their times about, My oyl-dry'd lamp, and time-bewafted light, Shall be extinct with age, and endless night: My inch of taper will be burnt and done: And blindfold death not let me fee my fon.

K. Rich. Why, uncle? thou haft many years to live. Gaunt. But not a minute, King, that thou canst give; Shorten my days thou canft with fullen forrow,

And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow *;
Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But ftop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage;
Thy word is current with him, for my death;
But dead, thy Kingdom cannot buy my breath.
K. Rich. Thy fon is banifh'd upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave;
Why at our justice feem'ft thou then to low'r?
Gaunt. Things, fweet to tafte, prove in digestion fow'r.
You urg'd me as a judge; but I had rather,
You would have bid me argue like a father.
O, had it been a ftranger, not my child,

To fmooth his Fault, I would have been more mild:
Alas, I look'd, when some of you should f
I was too ftrict to make mine own away:
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will, to do myfelf this wrong.
A partial flander + fought I to avoid,
And in the Sentence my own life destroy'd,

K. Rich. Coufin, farewel; and, uncle, bid him fo: Six years we banish him, and he shall go.

[Flourish. [Exit.

Aum. Coufin, farewel; what prefence muft not know, From where you do remain, let paper fhow. Mar. My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride As far as land will let me, by your side.

Gaunt. Oh,to what purpofe doft thou hoard thy words, That thou return'ft no Greeting to thy friends? Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you, When the tongue's office fhould be prodigal, To breathe th' abundant dolour of the heart. Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy abfence for a time. * And pluck nights from me, but ing evil than good.

not lend a morrow ;] It is matter of very melancholy confideratiou, that all human advantages confer more power of do

C

A partial flander-] That is, the reproach of partiality. This is a juft picture of the froggie between principle and affection. 3

Boling.

Boling. Joy abfent, grief is prefent for that time. Gaunt. What is fix winters? they are quickly gone. Boling. Tomen in joy; but grief makes one hour ten. Gaunt. Call it a Travel, that thou tak'ft for pleasure. Boling. My heart will figh, when I mifcall it fo, Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.

Gaunt. The fullen paffage of thy weary steps
Efteem a foil, wherein thou art to fet
The precious jewel of thy home-return.

Boling. Nay, rather, ev'ry tedious ftride I make
Will but remember me, what a deal of World
I wander from the Jewels that I love.
Muft I not ferve a long Apprentice-hood,
To foreign paffages, and in the End
Having my Freedom, boast of Nothing else
But that I was a Journeyman to Grief? *

3

Gaunt. All Places that the Eye of Heaven vifits,
Are to a wife man ports and happy havens.
Teach thy neceffity to reafon thus:

There is no virtue like neceffity.

Think not, the King did banish Thee;

But Thou the King. Woe doth the heavier fit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.

Go fay, I fent thee forth to purchase honour,

8

Boling. Nay, rather, ev'ry tedious Stride I make] This, and the fix Verfes which follow, I have ventur'd to fupply from the old Quarto. The Allufion, 'tis true, to an Apprenticeship, and becoming a Journeyman, is uot in the fublime Tafte, nor, as Horace has exprefs'd it, fpirat Tragicum fatis: however as there is no Doubt of the Paffage being genuine, the Lines are not fo defpicable as to deferve being quite loft. THEOBALD. Journeyman to Grief?] I am afraid our author in this place defigned a uery poor quibble, as journey fignifies both travel

and a day's work. However, he is not to be cenfured for what he himself rejected.

9 All Places that the Eye of

Heav'n vifits, &c.] The fourteen verfes that follow, are found in the first Edition. POPE.

I am inclined to believe that what Mr. Theobald and Mr. Pope have reflored were expunged in the revifion by the authour: if the lines inclosed in crotchets are omitted, the fenfe is more Coherent. Nothing is more fre quent among dramatick writers, than to fhorten their dialogues for the ftage.

And

And not, the King exil'd thee. Or fuppofe,
Devouring Peftilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy foul holds dear, imagine it

To lye that way thou go'ft, not whence thou com'ft.
Suppofe the finging birds, muficians;

The grafs whereon thou tread'ft, the prefence-floor;
The flow'rs, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more
Than a delightful measure, or a dance.

For gnarling Sorrow hath lefs Pow'r to bite
The Man, that mocks at it, and fets it light.]
Boling. Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucafus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feaft?
Or wallow naked in December fnow,
By thinking on fantastick Summer's heat?
Oh, no! the apprehenfion of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse;
Fell forrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when it bites, but lanceth not the fore.
Gaunt. Come, come, my fon, I'll bring thee on thy
way;

Had I thy Youth, and Caufe, I would not stay.
Boling. Then, England's Ground, farewel; fweet
foil, adieu,

My mother and my nurse, which bears me yet.
Where-e'er I wander, boaft of this I can,
Though banish'd; yet a true-born Englishman'.

yet a true-born Englishman.] Here the first act ought to end, that between the first and fecond acts there may be time for John of Gaunt to accompany his fon, return and fall fick. Then the first scene of the fecond act begins with a natural converfation, interrupted by

C 4

[Exeunt,

a meffage from John of Gaunt, by which the king is called to vifit him, which vifit is paid in the following fcene. As the play is now divided, more time paffes between the two laft fcenes of the first act, than between the first act and the second.

SCENE

Enter King Richard, and Bagot, &c. at one door; and the Lord Aumerle, at the other.

K. Rich.

E did, indeed, obferve Coufin
Aumerle,

WE

How far brought you high Hereford on his way?
Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him fo,
But to the next High-way, and there I left him.

K. Rich. And fay, what ftore of parting tears were fhed?

Aum. 'Faith, none by me; except the north-eaft wind,

(Which then blew bitterly against our faces) Awak'd the fleepy rheume; and fo by chance. Did grace our bollow Parting with a tear.

K. Rich. What faid your coufin, when you parted with him?

Aum. Farewel.

And, for my heart difdained that my tongue

Should fo prophane the word. That taught me craft To counterfeit oppreffion of fuch grief,

That words feem'd buried in my forrow's Grave.
Marry, would the word farewel have lengthen'd hours,
And added years to his fhort Banishment,

He fhould have had a volume of farewels;
But, fince it would not, he had none of me.

K. Rich. He is our kinfman, Coufin; but 'tis doubt,
When time fhall call him home from Banishment,
Whether our kinfman come to see his friends.
Our felf, and Busby, Bagot here, and Green,
Obferv'd his Courtship to the common people:
How he did feem to dive into their hearts,
With humble and familiar courtefie?

What