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]