K. Rich.
We did observe ^note. Cousin Aumerle ^note,
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 for me ^note; except the north-east wind,
Which then blew ^note bitterly against our faces ^note,
Awaked the sleeping ^note rheum, and so by chance
Did grace our hollow parting with a tear.

K. Rich.
What said our ^note cousin when you parted with him?

Aum.
‘Farewell:’
And, for my heart disdained that ^note my tongue ^note
Should so profane the word, that taught me craft
To counterfeit oppression of such grief,
That words ^note seem'd buried in my sorrow's grave.
Marry ^note, would the word ‘farewell’ have ^note lengthen'd hours
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 ^note; but 'tis doubt,
When time shall call him home from banishment,
Whether our kinsman come ^note to see his friends.
Ourself and Bushy, Bagot here and Green ^note
Observed his courtship to the common people;
How he did seem to dive into their hearts
With humble and familiar courtesy,
What ^note reverence he did throw away on slaves,
Wooing poor craftsmen with the craft of smiles ^note
And patient underbearing of his fortune,
As 'twere to banish their affects ^note with him.
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,
And he our subjects' ^note next degree in hope.

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 ^note means
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;
The revenue whereof shall furnish us

For our affairs in hand: if that ^{note note} come short, ^note
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 gold
And send them after to supply our wants;
For we will make for Ireland presently. Enter Bushy.
Bushy, what news? ^note

Bushy.
Old John of Gaunt ^note is grievous ^note sick, my lord,
Suddenly taken; and hath sent post haste
To entreat your majesty to visit him.

K. Rich.
Where lies he ^note?

Bushy.
At Ely House ^note.

K. Rich.
Now put it, God ^note, in the ^note physician's mind
To help him to his grave immediately!
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 ^note we may make haste, and come too late!

All.
Amen. ^note [Exeunt. ^note

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