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Shakespeare, William, 1564-1616

"Richard II"

Why Vncle, thou hast many yeeres to liue
Gaunt. But not a minute (King) that thou canst giue;
Shorten my dayes thou canst with sudden sorow,
And plucke nights from me, but not lend a morrow:
Thou canst helpe time to furrow me with age,
But stop no wrinkle in his pilgrimage:
Thy word is currant with him, for my death,
But dead, thy kingdome cannot buy my breath
Ric. Thy sonne is banish'd vpon good aduice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gaue,
Why at our Iustice seem'st thou then to lowre?
Gau. Things sweet to tast, proue in digestion sowre:
You vrg'd me as a Iudge, but I had rather
You would haue bid me argue like a Father.
Alas, I look'd when some of you should say,
I was too strict to make mine owne away:
But you gaue leaue to my vnwilling tong,
Against my will, to do my selfe this wrong
Rich. Cosine farewell: and Vncle bid him so:
Six yeares we banish him, and he shall go.
Enter.
Flourish.
Au. Cosine farewell: what presence must not know
From where you do remaine, let paper show
Mar. My Lord, no leaue take I, for I will ride
As farre as land will let me, by your side
Gaunt. Oh to what purpose dost thou hord thy words,
That thou returnst no greeting to thy friends?
Bull. I haue too few to take my leaue of you,
When the tongues office should be prodigall,
To breath th' abundant dolour of the heart
Gau.


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