Enter John of Gaunt sick, with the Duke of York, &c.[977]
Gaunt. Will the king come, that I may breathe my last
In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
York. Vex not yourself, nor strive not with your breath;
For all in vain comes counsel to his ear.
Gaunt. O, but they say the tongues of dying men5
Enforce attention like deep harmony:
Where words are scarce, they are seldom spent in vain,
For they breathe truth that breathe their words in pain.
He that no more must say is listen'd more[978]
Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose;[978][979]10
More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before:[978]
The setting sun, and music at the close,[978][980]
As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,[978][981]
Writ in remembrance more than things long past:[978]
Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,[978][982]15
My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.[978]
York. No; it is stopp'd with other flattering sounds,[983]
As praises, of whose taste the wise are fond,[984]
Lascivious metres, to whose venom sound[985]
The open ear of youth doth always listen;[986]20
Report of fashions in proud Italy,[987]
Whose manners still our tardy apish nation[988]
Limps after in base imitation.[989]
Where doth the world thrust forth a vanity—
So it be new, there's no respect how vile—25
That is not quickly buzz'd into his ears?[990]
Then all too late comes counsel to be heard,[991]
Where will doth mutiny with wit's regard.
Direct not him whose way himself will choose:[992]
'Tis breath thou lack'st, and that breath wilt thou lose.[992][993]30
Gaunt. Methinks I am a prophet new inspired
And thus expiring do foretell of him:
His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
For violent fires soon burn out themselves;[994]
Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;35
He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder:
Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,[995]
Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,[996]40
This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,[996]
This other Eden, demi-paradise;[996][997]
This fortress built by Nature for herself[996]
Against infection and the hand of war;[996][998]
This happy breed of men, this little world,[996][999]45
This precious stone set in the silver sea,[996]
Which serves it in the office of a wall,[996]
Or as a moat defensive to a house,[996][1000]
Against the envy of less happier lands;[996][1001]
This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,[996][1002]50
This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,[996]
Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,[996][1003]
Renowned for their deeds as far from home,[996][1004][1005]
For Christian service and true chivalry,[996][1004][1006]
As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry[996]55
Of the world's ransom, blessed Mary's Son;
This land of such dear souls, this dear dear land,
Dear for her reputation through the world,
Is now leased out, I die pronouncing it,
Like to a tenement or pelting farm:[1007]60
England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege[1008]
Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,[1009]
With inky blots and rotten parchment bonds:[1010]
That England, that was wont to conquer others,65
Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
Ah, would the scandal vanish with my life,[1011]
How happy then were my ensuing death!
Enter King Richard and Queen, Aumerle, Bushy, Green, Bagot, Ross, and Willoughby.[1012]
York. The king is come: deal mildly with his youth;[1013]
For young hot colts being raged do rage the more.[1014]70
Queen. How fares our noble uncle, Lancaster?