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Since thou hast far to go, bear not along
The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.

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, heaven, thou and I do know;
And, all too soon, I fear, the king shall rue. -
Farewell, my liege. Now no way can I stray ;
Save back to England, all the world's my way 4. [Exit.

K. Rich. Uncle, even in the glasses of thine eyes I see thy grieved heart : thy sad aspect Hath from the number of his banish'd years Pluck'd four away.--Six frozen winters spent, [To Bol. Return with welcome home from banishment.

Boling. How long a time lies in one little word! Four lagging winters, and four wanton springs, End in a word; such is the breath of kings.

Gaunt. I thank my liege, that, in regard of me, He shortens four years of my son's exile : But little vantage shall I reap thereby; For ere the six years, that he hath to spend, Can change their moons, and bring their times about, My oil-dry'd lamp, and time-bewalted light, Shall be extinct with age, and endless night : My inch of taper will be burnt and done; And blindfold death not let me see my son.

K. Rich. Why, uncle ? thou hast many years to live Gaunt. But not a minute, king, that thou canst give: Shorten my days thou canst with fullen forrow, And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow 5.

all the world's my way.] Perhaps Milton had this in his mind when he wrote these lines,

The world was all before them, where to chuse
Their place of reft, and Providence their guide.

JOHNSON, 's And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow.] It is matter of very melancholy consideration, that all human advantages confer more power of doing evil than good. Johnson.

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Thou canst help time to furrow me with age,
But stop 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 son is banish'd upon good advice,
Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave;
Why at our justite seem'st thou then to lour ?
Geunt. Things, sweet to taste, prove in digestion

four. 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 stranger, not my child, To smooth his fault I would have been more mild : Alas, I look’d, when some of

you

should say,
I was too strict to make mine own away :
But you gave leave to my unwilling tongue,
Against my will, to do myself this wrong.
A partial Nander 6 fought I to avoid,
And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.

K. Rich. Cousin, farewell ; and, uncle, bid him fo: Six years we banish him, and he shall go. [Flourish.

[Exit. Aum. Cousin, farewell: what presence must not

: know, From where you do remain, let paper show,

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 purpose dost thou hoard thy

words,
That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends ?

Boling. I have too few to take my leave of you,
When the tongue's office should be prodigal,
To breathe the abundant dolour of the heart.

Gaunt. Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
Boling. Joy absent, grief is present for that time.

A partial slander-) That is, the reproach of partiality, This is a just picture of the struggle between principle and af. fection. JOHNSON.

'Gaunt.

ten.

Gaunt. What is fix winters ? they are quickly gone. Boling. To men in joy; but grief makes one hour Gaunt. Call it a travel, that thou tak'it for pleasure. Boling. My heart will figh, when I miscall it so, Which finds it an enforced pilgrimage.

Gaunt. The fullen passage of thy weary steps
Esteem a foil, wherein thou art to set
The precious jewel of thy home-return.

[7 Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me, what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Muft I not serve a long apprentice-hood,
To foreign passages; and in the end
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
But that I was a journeyman to grief 3 ?

Gaunt. 9 All places that the eye of heaven visits, Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.

? Boling. Nay, rather, every tedious firide I make] This, and the fix verses which follow, I have ventured to supply from the old quarto. The allusion, it is true, to an apprenticeship, and becoming a journeyman, is not in the sublime taste; nor, as Horace has expressed it, fpirat tragicum fatis : however, as there is no doubt of the passage being genuine, the lines are not so despicable as to deserve being quite loft. THEOBALD.

journeyman to grief?) I am afraid our author in this place designed a very poor quibble, as journey fignifies both travel and a day's work. However, he is not to be censured for what he himself rejected. JOHNSON.

The quarto, in which these lines are found, is said in its titlepage to have been corrected by the author ; and the play is in, deed more accurately printed than most of the other fingle copies. There is now however no method of knowing by whom the alteration was made. Sreevens.

All places that the eye of heaven visits, &c.] The fourteen verses that follow are found in the first edition. Pore,

I am inclined to believe, that what Mr. Theobald and Mr. Pope have restored were expunged in the revision by the author: if the lines inclosed in crotchets are omitted, the sense is more coherent. Nothing is more frequent among dramatic writers, than to shorten their dialogues for the stage. JOHNSON.

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Teach thy necessity to reason thus :-
There is no virtue like neceflity.
Think not, the king did banish thee;
But thou the king. Woe doth the heavier sit,
Where it perceives it is but faintly borne.
Go say, I sent thee forth to purchase honour,
And not, the king exild thee:-or suppose,
Devouring pestilence hangs in our air,
And thou art flying to a fresher clime.
Look, what thy soul holds dear, imagine it
To lie that way thou go'st, not whence thou com'ft.
Suppose the singing birds, musicians ;
The grass whereon thou tread'st, the presence strowd;
The flowers, fair ladies; and thy steps, no more
Than a delightful measure, or a dance :
For gnarling sorrow hath less power to bite
The man that mocks at it, and sets it light.]

Boling. 'Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand,
By thinking on the frosty Caucasus ?
Or cloy the hungry edge of appetite,
By bare imagination of a feast ?
Or wallow naked in December snow,
By thinking on fantastic summer's heat?
Oh, no! the apprehension 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 sore.
Gaunt, Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy

way : Had I thy youth, and cause, I would not stay.

There is a passage resembling this in Tully's Fifth Bock of Tufculan Questions. Speaking of Epicurus, he says" Sed «'una se dicit recordatione acquiescere præteritarum volup" tatum: ut fi quis æftuans, cum vim caloris non facile pa“ tiatur recordari velit, fe aliquando in arpinati nostro gelidis “ fluminibus circumfusum fuiffe. Non enim video, quomodo " fedare pofsint mala præsentia præteritæ voluptates.” The Tusculan Queftions of Tally had been translated early enough for Shakespeare to have seen them. STEEVENS,

Boling,

Boling. Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet

foil, adieu;
My mother and my nurse, that bears me yet!
Where-e'er I wander, boast of this I can
Though banish’d, yet a true-born Englishman”.

[Exeunt. SCENE IV.

The court.

Enter king Richard, and Bagot, &c. at one door, and

the lord Aumerle at the other.

1

K. Rich. We did observe. Cousin Aumerle, 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 ? Aum. 'Faith, none by me: except the north-east

wind, (Which then blew bitterly against our faces) Awak'd the sleepy rheum; and so by chance Did

grace our hollow parting with a tear.
K. Rich. What said our cousin when you parted

with him?
Aum. Farewell.
And, for my heart disdained that my tongue
Should so prophane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such grief,
That words seem buried in

my

sorrow's grave.

- yet a true-born Englishman.) Here the first act ought to end, that between the first and second acts there may be time for John of Gaunt to accompany his son, return, and fall fick. Then the firft scene of the second act begins with a natural conversation, interrupted by a message from John of Gaunt, by which the king is called to visit him, which vifit is paid in the following scene. As the play is now divided, more time passes between the two last scenes of the first act, than between the first act and the second. JOHNSON.

Marry,

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