_York._ How long shall I be patient? ah, how long[1052] Shall tender duty make me suffer wrong? Not Gloucester's death, nor Hereford's banishment,[1053] 165 Not Gaunt's rebukes, nor England's private wrongs, Nor the prevention of poor Bolingbroke About his marriage, nor my own disgrace, Have ever made me sour my patient cheek, Or bend one wrinkle on my sovereign's face. 170 I am the last of noble Edward's sons,[1054] Of whom thy father, Prince of Wales, was first: In war was never lion raged more fierce,[1055] In peace was never gentle lamb more mild, Than was that young and princely gentleman. 175 His face thou hast, for even so look'd he, Accomplish'd with the number of thy hours;[1056] But when he frown'd, it was against the French And not against his friends; his noble hand Did win what he did spend and spent not that 180 Which his triumphant father's hand had won; His hands were guilty of no kindred blood,[1057] But bloody with the enemies of his kin. O Richard! York is too far gone with grief, Or else he never would compare between.[1058] 185 _K. Rich._ Why, uncle, what's the matter?[1059] _York._ O my liege,[1059] Pardon me, if you please; if not, I, pleased[1059][1060] Not to be pardon'd, am content withal.[1059][1060] Seek you to seize and gripe into your hands The royalties and rights of banish'd Hereford? 190 Is not Gaunt dead, and doth not Hereford live? Was not Gaunt just, and is not Harry true? Did not the one deserve to have an heir? Is not his heir a well-deserving son? Take Hereford's rights away, and take from time[1061] 195 His charters and his customary rights; Let not to-morrow then ensue to-day: Be not thyself; for how art thou a king But by fair sequence and succession? Now, afore God--God forbid I say true!--[1062] 200 If you do wrongfully seize Hereford's rights,[1063] Call in the letters patents that he hath[1064] By his attorneys-general to sue His livery and deny his offer'd homage, You pluck a thousand dangers on your head, 205 You lose a thousand well-disposed hearts[1065] And prick my tender patience to those thoughts Which honour and allegiance cannot think. _K. Rich._ Think what you will, we seize into our hands[1066] His plate, his goods, his money and his lands.[1067] 210 _York._ I'll not be by the while: my liege, farewell: What will ensue hereof, there's none can tell; But by bad courses may be understood That their events can never fall out good. [_Exit._