cypress trees! Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks! Their softest touch as smart as lizards' sting! Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss, And boding screech-owls make the concert full! All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell-- Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself; And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass, Or like an overcharged gun, recoil, And turn the force of them upon thyself. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave? Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand, That I may dew it with my mournful tears; Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, To wash away my woful monuments. O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, That thou mightst think upon these by the seal, Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee! So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; 'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, As one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, Adventure to be banished myself: And banished I am, if but from thee. Go; speak not to me; even now be gone. O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemn'd Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves, Loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee! Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished; Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee. 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence; A wilderness is populous enough, So Suffolk had thy heavenly company: For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation. I can no more: live thou to joy thy life; Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest. Wither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee? To signify unto his majesty That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death; For suddenly a grievous sickness took him, That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air, Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth. Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost Were by his side; sometime he calls the king, And whispers to his pillow, as to him, The secrets of his overcharged soul; And I am sent to tell his majesty That