Act 1 — Scene IV. The court.
Reading edition
Enter the King, with Bagot and Green at one door; and the Duke of Aumerle at another.[950]
K. Rich. We did observe. Cousin Aumerle,[951] How far brought you high Hereford on his way? Aum. I brought high Hereford, if you call him so, But to the next highway, and there I left him. K. Rich. And say, what store of parting tears were shed?5 Aum. Faith, none for me; except the north-east wind,[952] Which then blew bitterly against our faces,[953] Awaked the sleeping rheum, and so by chance[954] Did grace our hollow parting with a tear. K. Rich. What said our cousin when you parted with him?[955]10 Aum. 'Farewell:'[956] And, for my heart disdained that my tongue[956][957] Should so profane the word, that taught me craft To counterfeit oppression of such grief, That words seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.[958]15 Marry, would the word 'farewell' have lengthen'd hours[959] And added years to his short banishment, He should have had a volume of farewells; But since it would not, he had none of me. K. Rich. He is our cousin, cousin; but 'tis doubt,[960]20 When time shall call him home from banishment, Whether our kinsman come to see his friends.[961][962] Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green[962] Observed his courtship to the common people; How he did seem to dive into their hearts25 With humble and familiar courtesy, What reverence he did throw away on slaves.[963] Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles[964] And patient underbearing of his fortune, As 'twere to banish their affects with him.[965]30 Off goes his bonnet to an oyster-wench; A brace of draymen bid God speed him well And had the tribute of his supple knee, With 'Thanks, my countrymen, my loving friends;' As were our England in reversion his,35 And he our subjects' next degree in hope.[966] Green. Well, he is gone; and with him go these thoughts. Now for the rebels which stand out in Ireland, Expedient manage must be made, my liege, Ere further leisure yield them further means[967]40 For their advantage and your highness' loss. K. Rich. We will ourself in person to this war: And, for our coffers, with too great a court And liberal largess, are grown somewhat light, We are inforced to farm our royal realm;45 The revenue whereof shall furnish us[968] For our affairs in hand: if that come short,[968][969] Our substitutes at home shall have blank charters; Whereto, when they shall know what men are rich, They shall subscribe them for large sums of gold50 And send them after to supply our wants; For we will make for Ireland presently.
Enter Bushy.[970]
Bushy, what news?[970] Bushy. Old John of Gaunt is grievous sick, my lord,[971] Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste55 To entreat your majesty to visit him. K. Rich. Where lies he?[972] Bushy. At Ely House.[973] K. Rich. Now put it, God, in the physician's mind[974][975] To help him to his grave immediately!60 The lining of his coffers shall make coats To deck our soldiers for these Irish wars. Come, gentlemen, let's all go visit him: Pray God we may make haste, and come too late![974] All. Amen. [Exeunt.[976]65