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Act 1, Scene 2
Richard II Translation Act 1, Scene 3
Enter the Lord Marshal and the DUKE OF AUMERLE
LORD MARSHAL
My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford arm'd?
LORD MARSHAL
My Lord Aumerle, is Harry Hereford ready for battle?
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Yea, at all points; and longs to enter in.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Yes, entirely, he's eager to get on the battlefield.
LORD MARSHAL
The Duke of Norfolk, sprightfully and bold,Stays but the summons of the appellant's trumpet.
LORD MARSHAL
The Duke of Norfolk, filled with rage, is awaiting the sound of the trumpet to summon him to battle.
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DUKE OF AUMERLE
Why, then, the champions are prepared, and stayFor nothing but his majesty's approach.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Why, then, the champions are prepared, so we're just waiting for his majesty.
The trumpets sound, and KING RICHARD enters with his nobles, JOHN OF GAUNT, BUSHY, BAGOT, GREEN, and others. When they are set, enter THOMAS MOWBRAY in arms, defendant, with a Herald
KING RICHARD II
Marshal, demand of yonder champion The cause of his arrival here in arms: Ask him his name and orderly proceed To swear him in the justice of his cause.
KING RICHARD II
Marshal, ask that champion why he's come here bearing arms: have him state his name and swear that his cause is just.
LORD MARSHAL
In God's name and the king's, say who thou art And why thou comest thus knightly clad in arms, Against what man thou comest, and what thy quarrel: Speak truly, on thy knighthood and thy oath; As so defend thee heaven and thy valour!
LORD MARSHAL
In the name of God and the king, say who you are and why you come wearing knight's armor, who you're fighting against, and why. Speak truthfully, by your knighthood and your pledge of loyalty. Heaven help you to defend your honor and bravery!
THOMAS MOWBRAY
My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk; Who hither come engaged by my oath— Which God defend a knight should violate!— Both to defend my loyalty and truth To God, my king and my succeeding issue, Against the Duke of Hereford that appeals me And, by the grace of God and this mine arm, To prove him, in defending of myself, A traitor to my God, my king, and me: And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
THOMAS MOWBRAY
My name is Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk. I come here because I made a promise—that God forbid a knight should violate!—to defend both my loyalty and truth to God, my king, and my children, against the Duke of Hereford who accuses me. And, by the grace of God and the strength of my own bare hands, I'll prove him (by defending myself) to be a traitor to my God, my king, and to me. And as long as I fight honestly, I call on God in heaven to defend me!
The trumpets sound. Enter HENRY BOLINGBROKE, appellant, in armour, with a Herald
KING RICHARD II
Marshal, ask yonder knight in arms, Both who he is and why he cometh hither Thus plated in habiliments of war, And formally, according to our law, Depose him in the justice of his cause.
KING RICHARD II
Marshal, ask that knight in arms both who he is and why he comes here dressed for battle. And formally, according to our law, ask him to explain why he thinks his accusation is justified.
LORD MARSHAL
What is thy name? and wherefore comest thou hither, Before King Richard in his royal lists? Against whom comest thou? and what's thy quarrel? Speak like a true knight, so defend thee heaven!
LORD MARSHAL
What is your name? And why do you come here before King Richard in his royal lists? Whom are you here to oppose? And what's your argument? Speak like a true knight, so help you God!
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby Am I; who ready here do stand in arms, To prove, by God's grace and my body's valour, In lists, on Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, That he is a traitor, foul and dangerous, To God of heaven, King Richard and to me; And as I truly fight, defend me heaven!
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
I am Harry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby. I stand here ready in my armor to prove, by God's grace and my bravery on the field, that Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, is a foul and dangerous traitor to God, King Richard, and to me. And as long as I fight honestly, I call on God in heaven to defend me!
LORD MARSHAL
On pain of death, no person be so bold Or daring-hardy as to touch the lists, Except the marshal and such officers Appointed to direct these fair designs.
LORD MARSHAL
On pain of death, no one should be so bold as to touch the king's lists except the marshal and the officers in charge.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand, And bow my knee before his majesty: For Mowbray and myself are like two men That vow a long and weary pilgrimage; Then let us take a ceremonious leave And loving farewell of our several friends.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Lord marshal, let me kiss my sovereign's hand and bow my knee before his majesty. Mowbray and I are like two men about to go on a long and tiring pilgrimage, so let us say a loving goodbye to our friends.
LORD MARSHAL
The appellant in all duty greets your highness,And craves to kiss your hand and take his leave.
LORD MARSHAL
The accuser greets your highness with all loyalty and respect, desiring to kiss your hand and say goodbye.
KING RICHARD II
We will descend and fold him in our arms. Cousin of Hereford, as thy cause is right, So be thy fortune in this royal fight! Farewell, my blood; which if to-day thou shed, Lament we may, but not revenge thee dead.
KING RICHARD II
We will descend and embrace him. Cousin of Hereford, if your cause is just, may you be victorious in this royal fight! Farewell, my blood; if that blood is shed today, we'll lament it, but we won't take revenge.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
O let no noble eye profane a tear For me, if I be gored with Mowbray's spear: As confident as is the falcon's flight Against a bird, do I with Mowbray fight. My loving lord, I take my leave of you; Of you, my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle; Not sick, although I have to do with death, But lusty, young, and cheerly drawing breath. Lo, as at English feasts, so I regret The daintiest last, to make the end most sweet: O thou, the earthly author of my blood, Whose youthful spirit, in me regenerate, Doth with a twofold vigour lift me up To reach at victory above my head, Add proof unto mine armour with thy prayers; And with thy blessings steel my lance's point, That it may enter Mowbray's waxen coat, And furnish new the name of John a Gaunt, Even in the lusty havior of his son.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Oh, please let me not cry if Mowbray stabs me. I'll fight with him as confident as a falcon against a defenseless little bird. My loving lord, I say goodbye to you and to my noble cousin, Lord Aumerle. I may die, but I'm not sick. No, I'm young, vigorous, and still cheerfully drawing breath. And just as I leave the best for last at the dinner table, so do I turn to you, father, whose youthful spirit lives on in me and gives me strength in the fight to come. With your blessings on my lance, may it defeat Mowbray and add new glory to the name of John of Gaunt by the deeds of his son.
JOHN OF GAUNT
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.
JOHN OF GAUNT
May God make you prosperous in your good cause! Be swift like lightning in the fight, and let your blows fall like thunder on your evil enemy. Use your youthful strength: be brave and survive.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Mine innocency and Saint George to thrive!
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Let Saint George and my innocence make me successful!
THOMAS MOWBRAY
However God or fortune cast my lot, There lives or dies, true to King Richard's throne, A loyal, just and upright gentleman: Never did captive with a freer heart Cast off his chains of bondage and embrace His golden uncontroll'd enfranchisement, More than my dancing soul doth celebrate This feast of battle with mine adversary. Most mighty liege, and my companion peers, Take from my mouth the wish of happy years: As gentle and as jocund as to jest Go I to fight: truth hath a quiet breast.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
Whichever way this goes, I live or die a loyal, just, and honest gentleman true to King Richard's throne. A captive never escaped slavery with more happiness than my dancing soul feels at the prospect of doing battle with my enemy. Most mighty liege, and my fellow nobles, I wish you all many happy years: I go to fight as peacefully and happily as if I were just heading out to play a game, for honesty sets the heart at ease.
KING RICHARD II
Farewell, my lord: securely I espyVirtue with valour couched in thine eye.Order the trial, marshal, and begin.
KING RICHARD II
Goodbye, my lord: I see bravery and virtue in your eyes. Order the fight, marshal, and begin.
LORD MARSHAL
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby,Receive thy lance; and God defend the right!
LORD MARSHAL
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, take your weapons, and may God defend whichever of you is truly innocent!
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Strong as a tower in hope, I cry amen.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Strong as a tower in my hopes, I cry out "amen."
LORD MARSHAL
Go bear this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.
LORD MARSHAL
Go take this lance to Thomas, Duke of Norfolk.
FIRST HERALD
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, Stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, On pain to be found false and recreant, To prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, A traitor to his God, his king and him; And dares him to set forward to the fight.
FIRST HERALD
Harry of Hereford, Lancaster and Derby, stands here for God, his sovereign and himself, to prove the Duke of Norfolk, Thomas Mowbray, a traitor to his God, his king and him, and if not to prove himself a false liar: he challenges Mowbray to fight.
SECOND HERALD
Here standeth Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, On pain to be found false and recreant, Both to defend himself and to approve Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, To God, his sovereign and to him disloyal; Courageously and with a free desire Attending but the signal to begin.
SECOND HERALD
Here stands Thomas Mowbray, Duke of Norfolk, both to defend himself and to prove Henry of Hereford, Lancaster, and Derby, disloyal to God, his sovereign and to him, and if not to prove himself a false liar: courageously and eagerly, he waits for the signal to begin.
LORD MARSHAL
Sound, trumpets; and set forward, combatants.
LORD MARSHAL
Sound the trumpets, and combatants, come forward.
A charge sounded
LORD MARSHAL
Stay, the king hath thrown his warder down.
LORD MARSHAL
Stop! The king has thrown down his warder.
KING RICHARD II
Let them lay by their helmets and their spears, And both return back to their chairs again: Withdraw with us: and let the trumpets sound While we return these dukes what we decree.
KING RICHARD II
Let them both set down their helmets and their spears, return back to their chairs again, and come inside with us. And sound the trumpets while we tell the dukes what we've decided.
A long flourish
KING RICHARD II
Draw near, And list what with our council we have done. For that our kingdom's earth should not be soil'd With that dear blood which it hath fostered; And for our eyes do hate the dire aspect Of civil wounds plough'd up with neighbours' sword; And for we think the eagle-winged pride Of sky-aspiring and ambitious thoughts, With rival-hating envy, set on you To wake our peace, which in our country's cradle Draws the sweet infant breath of gentle sleep; Which so roused up with boisterous untuned drums, With harsh resounding trumpets' dreadful bray, And grating shock of wrathful iron arms, Might from our quiet confines fright fair peace And make us wade even in our kindred's blood, Therefore, we banish you our territories: You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of life, Till twice five summers have enrich'd our fields Shall not regreet our fair dominions, But tread the stranger paths of banishment.
KING RICHARD II
Come close to me, and hear what we've decided to do after consulting with our advisers. So that our kingdom's ground should not be soiled with the blood of its own people, because our eyes hate the sight of civil war between our subjects, and because we think it was your pride and ambition that made you disturb our country's peace, which had been "sleeping" undisturbed like a baby until you woke it with your trumpets and drums of war, frightening peace away and leaving us to wade through the blood of our own family members. We banish you from our territories. You, cousin Hereford, upon pain of death, shall not come to our fair England again for ten years, and instead will walk the unfamiliar paths of banishment.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Your will be done: this must my comfort be, Sun that warms you here shall shine on me; And those his golden beams to you here lent Shall point on me and gild my banishment.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
I must obey your will. My comfort is that the sun that warms you here shall shine on me, and the golden beams that look down on you here will also make my banishment more bearable.
KING RICHARD II
Norfolk, for thee remains a heavier doom, Which I with some unwillingness pronounce: The sly slow hours shall not determinate The dateless limit of thy dear exile; The hopeless word of 'never to return' Breathe I against thee, upon pain of life.
KING RICHARD II
Norfolk, there's a worse sentence for you, which I say with some regret: the slow hours will not bring you any closer to ending your banishment, for I order you never to return, upon pain of death.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
A heavy sentence, my most sovereign liege, And all unlook'd for from your highness' mouth: A dearer merit, not so deep a maim As to be cast forth in the common air, Have I deserved at your highness' hands. The language I have learn'd these forty years, My native English, now I must forego: And now my tongue's use is to me no more Than an unstringed viol or a harp, Or like a cunning instrument cased up, Or, being open, put into his hands That knows no touch to tune the harmony: Within my mouth you have engaol'd my tongue, Doubly portcullis'd with my teeth and lips; And dull unfeeling barren ignorance Is made my gaoler to attend on me. I am too old to fawn upon a nurse, Too far in years to be a pupil now: What is thy sentence then but speechless death, Which robs my tongue from breathing native breath?
THOMAS MOWBRAY
A harsh sentence, my most sovereign liege, and unfair from your highness' mouth: I deserved a better reward from you than to be cast out of my home and into the street. I must no longer speak the language I have learned these forty years, my native English, and my tongue is now no more use to me than an unstringed violin, a harp left in a case, or an instrument put in the hands of one who doesn't know how to play it. You have imprisoned my tongue in my mouth, locked it up behind my teeth and lips, and now I can no longer speak. Dull emotionless ignorance is my jailer. I am too old to be a student now: what is your sentence then but silencing me to death by stopping my tongue from speaking its native language?
KING RICHARD II
It boots thee not to be compassionate: After our sentence plaining comes too late.
KING RICHARD II
It won't help you to try to make us feel sorry for you. After our sentence has been handed down, it's too late to complain.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
Then thus I turn me from my country's light, To dwell in solemn shades of endless night.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
Then thus I turn away from my country's light, to live in dark shades of endless night.
KING RICHARD II
Return again, and take an oath with thee. Lay on our royal sword your banish'd hands; Swear by the duty that you owe to God— Our part therein we banish with yourselves— To keep the oath that we administer: You never shall, so help you truth and God! Embrace each other's love in banishment; Nor never look upon each other's face; Nor never write, regreet, nor reconcile This louring tempest of your home-bred hate; Nor never by advised purpose meet To plot, contrive, or complot any ill 'Gainst us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
KING RICHARD II
Come back and take an oath. Lay your banished hands on our royal sword. Swear by the duty that you owe to God—your duty to us we banish with you—to keep the promise you make here today: that you never shall—so help you God!—become allies in banishment, nor ever look upon each other's face; nor ever write, see each other in person, or reconcile with each other; nor ever for any reason meet to plot any ill against us, our state, our subjects, or our land.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
I swear.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
I swear.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
And I, to keep all this.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
And I swear as well to abide by all these conditions.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Norfolk, so far as to mine enemy:— By this time, had the king permitted us, One of our souls had wander'd in the air. Banish'd this frail sepulchre of our flesh, As now our flesh is banish'd from this land: Confess thy treasons ere thou fly the realm; Since thou hast far to go, bear not along The clogging burthen of a guilty soul.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
[To Mowbray] Norfolk, my enemy until now—by this time, had the king permitted us, one of us would be dead, our souls parted from our bodies as we are now banished from this land. Confess your treason before you leave the realm. Since you have far to go, don't bring along with you the heavy burden of a guilty soul.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
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, God, 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.
THOMAS MOWBRAY
No, Bolingbroke: if I've ever been a traitor, let my name be erased from the book of life, and I banished from heaven as I've been banished from here! But what you are, God and I do know; and all too soon, I fear, the king will regret sparing you. Goodbye, my liege. Now there's no particular way I can go; all roads are open to me, except those leading back to England.
Exit
KING RICHARD II
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.
KING RICHARD II
Uncle, even in the mirrors of your eyes, I see the reflection of your grief. Based on your sad expression, I will reduce your son's banishment by four years.
To HENRY BOLINGBROKE
KING RICHARD II
Six frozen winter spent,Return with welcome home from banishment.
KING RICHARD II
After six frozen winters have passed, come home from banishment—with my welcome.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
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.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
How long a time lies in one little word! Four long winters and four fresh springs end in a word: such is the power of a king's wishes.
JOHN OF 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-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.
JOHN OF GAUNT
I'm thankful to my liege, that out of kindness to me he shortens four years of my son's exile: but little good it will do me. For before six years have passed, the lamp of my life will have gone out with age; my candle will have burned down, and death's blindfold will stop me from seeing my son.
KING RICHARD II
Why uncle, thou hast many years to live.
KING RICHARD II
Why, uncle, you have many years to live.
JOHN OF GAUNT
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.
JOHN OF GAUNT
But not a minute, king, that you can give: you can shorten my days with sorrow and keep me up at night, but you can't give me a morning: you can help time to age me, but you can't stop wrinkles in their tracks: your word can make me die more quickly; but once I'm dead, all your kingdom couldn't make me breathe again.
KING RICHARD II
Thy son is banish'd upon good advice, Whereto thy tongue a party-verdict gave: Why at our justice seem'st thou then to lour?
KING RICHARD II
I banished your son after taking advice from good counselors, including you. Why do you complain about the justice we have done?
JOHN OF GAUNT
Things sweet to taste prove in digestion sour. You urged 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.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Things that taste sweet are difficult to digest. You asked my opinion as a judge, but I would rather you had asked me to argue as a father. Oh, had it been a stranger, not my child, I would have gone easier on him; I tried to avoid looking prejudiced, but destroyed my own life in the process. I hoped that some of you would say that I was being too harsh to my own son, but you allowed me to wrong myself.
KING RICHARD II
Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, bid him so:Six years we banish him, and he shall go.
KING RICHARD II
Cousin, farewell; and, uncle, say goodbye: he's banished six years, and he shall go.
Flourish. Exeunt KING RICHARD II and train
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Cousin, farewell: what presence must not know,From where you do remain let paper show.
DUKE OF AUMERLE
Goodbye, cousin: what you can't tell me now, write to me.
LORD MARSHAL
My lord, no leave take I; for I will ride,As far as land will let me, by your side.
LORD MARSHAL
My lord, I won't leave you now: I'll ride to the sea with you.
JOHN OF GAUNT
O, to what purpose dost thou hoard thy words,That thou return'st no greeting to thy friends?
JOHN OF GAUNT
Oh, why won't you respond to your friends?
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
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.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
I have too few words of thanks, for I'm not eloquent enough to speak the pain in my heart.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Thy grief is but thy absence for a time.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Your grief is only your absence for a time.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Joy absent, grief is present for that time.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Without joy, there is only grief.
JOHN OF GAUNT
What is six winters? they are quickly gone.
JOHN OF GAUNT
What's six years? They'll pass before you know it.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
To men in joy; but grief makes one hour ten.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
To happy people, perhaps; but grief makes one hour feel like ten.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Call it a travel that thou takest for pleasure.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Pretend you're taking a trip for pleasure.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
My heart will sigh when I miscall it so,Which finds it an inforced pilgrimage.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
My heart will sigh when I try to think of it that way—I know it's a forced march, not a vacation.
JOHN OF GAUNT
The sullen passage of thy weary steps Esteem as foil wherein thou art to set The precious jewel of thy home return.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Then think of this hard journey as a jewel box where you can set the precious stone of your return home.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Nay, rather, every tedious stride I make
Will but remember me what a deal of world
I wander from the jewels that I love.
Must I not serve a long apprenticehood
To foreign passages, and in the end,
Having my freedom, boast of nothing else
But that I was a journeyman to grief?
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
No, rather, every tedious step I make will just remind me how far I'm going from the things I love. But do I have to serve a long apprenticeship in foreign places, and in the end, having my freedom, have nothing else to say for myself but that I was a journeyman to grief?
JOHN OF GAUNT
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 exiled 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 comest: 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.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Everywhere that God can reach is a safe haven to a wise man. Tell yourself this: there is no virtue like necessity. Think not that the king banished you, but instead that you banished the king. Woe sits heavier where it perceives weakness. Go, say I sent you out to win honor and not that the king exiled you. Or pretend there's some disease going around here and you're leaving for a healthier climate. Whatever your soul holds dear, imagine that it lies where you're going, not where you came from. Pretend the singing birds are musicians, the grass the carpet of a royal chamber, the flowers fair ladies, and your steps no more than a dance: for snarling sorrow has less power to bite the man who makes light of it.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
O, 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?
O, no! the apprehension of the good
Gives but the greater feeling to the worse:
Fell sorrow's tooth doth never rankle more
Than when he bites, but lanceth not the sore.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Oh, who can hold a fire in his hand by thinking of the freezing Caucasus? Or feel full when hungry by imagining a feast? Or feel warm in December snow by imagining fantastic summer's heat? Oh, no! Thinking about good things only makes me feel worse. This kind of sorrow is like the feeling of biting into a sore on your mouth to puncture and heal it, but not biting down hard enough to even break the sore's surface, leaving it there intact to hurt even more.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Come, come, my son, I'll bring thee on thy way:Had I thy youth and cause, I would not stay.
JOHN OF GAUNT
Come, come, my son, I'll bring you on your way: had I your youth and cause for anger, I would not stay.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, adieu; My mother, and my nurse, that bears me yet! Where'er I wander, boast of this I can, Though banish'd, yet a trueborn Englishman.
HENRY BOLINGBROKE
Then, England's ground, farewell; sweet soil, goodbye; my mother, and my nurse, that still holds me! Wherever I wander, even though I am banished, I can always boast that I am a native Englishman.
Exeunt
