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Is pale cold cowardice in noble breasts.

What shall I say? to safeguard thine own life,

The best way is to venge my Gloucester's death.

Gaunt. 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.

Duch. Where then, alas! may I complain myself?

Gaunt. To God, the widow's champion and defence.

Duch. Why then, I will. Farewell, old Gaunt.

Thou go'st to Coventry, there to behold

Our cousin Hereford and fell Mowbray fight:

O! sit my husband's wrongs on Hereford's spear,

That it may enter butcher Mowbray's breast.

Or if misfortune miss the first career,

Be Mowbray's sins so heavy in his bosom

That they may break his foaming courser's back,

And throw the rider headlong in the lists,

A caitiff recreant to my cousin Hereford!

Farewell, old Gaunt: thy sometimes brother's wife

With her companion grief must end her life.

Gaunt. Sister, farewell; I must to Coventry.

As much good stay with thee as go with me!

Duch. Yet one word more. Grief boundeth where it falls,

Not with the empty hollowness, but weight:

I take my leave before I have begun,

For sorrow ends not when it seemeth done.

Commend me to my brother, Edmund York.

Lo! this is all: nay, yet depart not so;

 37 God's substitute: the king

46 fell: fierce

49 career: charge in a tourney

53 caitiff: contemptible

recreant; cf. n.

cousin; cf. n.

54 sometimes: former, 'late'

