<SPEECH 1><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<GAUNT>	<1%>
	I have, my liege.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 2><ACT 1><SCENE 1><0%>
<GAUNT>	<1%>
	As near as I could sift him on that argument,
	On some apparent danger seen in him
	Aim'd at your highness, no inveterate malice.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 3><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<GAUNT>	<6%>
	To be a make-peace shall become my age:
	Throw down, my son, the Duke of Norfolk's gage.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 4><ACT 1><SCENE 1><5%>
<GAUNT>	<6%>
	When, Harry, when?
	Obedience bids I should not bid again.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 5><ACT 1><SCENE 2><7%>
<GAUNT>	<7%>
	Alas! the part I had in Woodstock's blood
	Doth more solicit me than your exclaims,
	To stir against the butchers of his life.
	But since correction lieth in those hands
	Which made the fault that we cannot correct,
	Put we our quarrel to the will of heaven;
	Who, when they see the hours ripe on earth,
	Will rain hot vengeance on offenders' heads.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 6><ACT 1><SCENE 2><8%>
<GAUNT>	<9%>
	God's is the quarrel; for God's substitute,
	His deputy anointed in his sight,
	Hath caus'd his death; the which if wrongfully,
	Let heaven revenge, for I may never lift
	An angry arm against his minister.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 7><ACT 1><SCENE 2><8%>
<GAUNT>	<9%>
	To God, the widow's champion and defence.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 8><ACT 1><SCENE 2><9%>
<GAUNT>	<9%>
	Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.
	As much good stay with thee as go with me!
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 9><ACT 1><SCENE 3><12%>
<GAUNT>	<13%>
	God in thy good cause make thee prosperous!
	Be swift like lightning in the execution;
	And let thy blows, doubly redoubled,
	Fall like amazing thunder on the casque
	Of thy adverse pernicious enemy:
	Rouse up thy youthful blood, be valiant and live.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 10><ACT 1><SCENE 3><17%>
<GAUNT>	<18%>
	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-dried lamp and time-bewasted 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.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 11><ACT 1><SCENE 3><17%>
<GAUNT>	<18%>
	But not a minute, king, that thou canst give:
	Shorten my days thou canst with sullen sorrow,
	And pluck nights from me, but not lend a morrow;
	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.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 12><ACT 1><SCENE 3><18%>
<GAUNT>	<19%>
	Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour.
	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 should have been more mild:
	A partial slander sought I to avoid,
	And in the sentence my own life destroy'd.
	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.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 13><ACT 1><SCENE 3><18%>
<GAUNT>	<19%>
	O! to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,
	That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 14><ACT 1><SCENE 3><19%>
<GAUNT>	<19%>
	Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 15><ACT 1><SCENE 3><19%>
<GAUNT>	<19%>
	What is six winters? they are quickly gone.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 16><ACT 1><SCENE 3><19%>
<GAUNT>	<20%>
	Call it a travel that thou tak'st for pleasure.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 17><ACT 1><SCENE 3><19%>
<GAUNT>	<20%>
	The sullen passage of thy weary steps
	Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set
	The precious jewel of thy home return.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 18><ACT 1><SCENE 3><19%>
<GAUNT>	<20%>
	All places that the eye of heaven visits
	Are to a wise man ports and happy havens.
	Teach thy necessity to reason thus;
	There is no virtue like necessity.
	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 exil'd 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'st.
	Suppose the singing birds musicians,
	The grass whereon thou tread'st the presence strew'd,
	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.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 19><ACT 1><SCENE 3><20%>
<GAUNT>	<21%>
	Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way.
	Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 20><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<GAUNT>	<24%>
	Will the king come, that I may breathe my last
	In wholesome counsel to his unstaid youth?
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 21><ACT 2><SCENE 1><23%>
<GAUNT>	<24%>
	O! but they say the tongues of dying men
	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
	Than they whom youth and ease have taught to glose;
	More are men's ends mark'd than their lives before:
	The setting sun, and music at the close,
	As the last taste of sweets, is sweetest last,
	Writ in remembrance more than things long past:
	Though Richard my life's counsel would not hear,
	My death's sad tale may yet undeaf his ear.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 22><ACT 2><SCENE 1><24%>
<GAUNT>	<25%>
	Methinks I am a prophet new inspir'd,
	And thus expiring do foretell of him:
	His rash fierce blaze of riot cannot last,
	For violent fires soon burn out themselves;
	Small showers last long, but sudden storms are short;
	He tires betimes that spurs too fast betimes;
	With eager feeding food doth choke the feeder:
	Light vanity, insatiate cormorant,
	Consuming means, soon preys upon itself.
	This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle,
	This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars,
	This other Eden, demi-paradise,
	This fortress built by Nature for herself
	Against infection and the hand of war,
	This happy breed of men, this little world,
	This precious stone set in the silver sea,
	Which serves it in the office of a wall,
	Or as a moat defensive to a house,
	Against the envy of less happier lands,
	This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England,
	This nurse, this teeming womb of royal kings,
	Fear'd by their breed and famous by their birth,
	Renowned for their deeds as far from home,
	For Christian service and true chivalry,
	As is the sepulchre in stubborn Jewry
	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 leas'd out,I die pronouncing it,
	Like to a tenement, or pelting farm:
	England, bound in with the triumphant sea,
	Whose rocky shore beats back the envious siege
	Of watery Neptune, is now bound in with shame,
	With inky blots, and rotten parchment bonds:
	That England, that was wont to conquer others,
	Hath made a shameful conquest of itself.
	Ah! would the scandal vanish with my life,
	How happy then were my ensuing death.

</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 23><ACT 2><SCENE 1><25%>
<GAUNT>	<26%>
	O! how that name befits my composition;
	Old Gaunt indeed, and gaunt in being old:
	Within me grief hath kept a tedious fast;
	And who abstains from meat that is not gaunt?
	For sleeping England long time have I watch'd;
	Watching breeds leanness, leanness is all gaunt.
	The pleasure that some fathers feed upon
	Is my strict fast, I mean my children's looks;
	And therein fasting hast thou made me gaunt.
	Gaunt am I for the grave, gaunt as a grave,
	Whose hollow womb inherits nought but bones.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 24><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<GAUNT>	<26%>
	No; misery makes sport to mock itself:
	Since thou dost seek to kill my name in me,
	I mock my name, great king, to flatter thee.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 25><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<GAUNT>	<27%>
	No, no; men living flatter those that die.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 26><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<GAUNT>	<27%>
	O, no! thou diest, though I the sicker be.
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 27><ACT 2><SCENE 1><26%>
<GAUNT>	<27%>
	Now, he that made me knows I see thee ill;
	Ill in myself to see, and in thee seeing ill.
	Thy death-bed is no lesser than thy land
	Wherein thou liest in reputation sick:
	And thou, too careless patient as thou art,
	Committ'st thy anointed body to the cure
	Of those physicians that first wounded thee:
	A thousand flatterers sit within thy crown,
	Whose compass is no bigger than thy head;
	And yet, incaged in so small a verge,
	The waste is no whit lesser than thy land.
	O! had thy grandsire, with a prophet's eye,
	Seen how his son's son should destroy his sons,
	From forth thy reach he would have laid thy shame,
	Deposing thee before thou wert possess'd,
	Which art possess'd now to depose thyself.
	Why, cousin, wert thou regent of the world,
	It were a shame to let this land by lease;
	But for thy world enjoying but this land,
	Is it not more than shame to shame it so?
	Landlord of England art thou now, not king:
	Thy state of law is bond-slave to the law,
	And
</GAUNT>

<SPEECH 28><ACT 2><SCENE 1><27%>
<GAUNT>	<28%>
	O! spare me not, my brother Edward's son,
	For that I was his father Edward's son.
	That blood already, like the pelican,
	Hast thou tapp'd out and drunkenly carous'd:
	My brother Gloucester, plain well-meaning soul,
	Whom fair befall in heaven 'mongst happy souls!
	May be a precedent and witness good
	That thou respect'st not spilling Edward's blood:
	Join with the present sickness that I have;
	And thy unkindness be like crooked age,
	To crop at once a too-long wither'd flower.
	Live in thy shame, but die not shame with thee!
	These words hereafter thy tormentors be!
	Convey me to my bed, then to my grave:
	Love they to live that love and honour have.
</GAUNT>

