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K. Hen. O God's name, see the lists and all things fit;
Here let them end it, and God defend the right!
York. I never saw a fellow worse bested,

Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
The servant of this armorer, my lords.

Enter, on one side, HORNER, and his neighbors, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters bearing his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; a drum before him; at the other side, PETER, with a drum and a similar staff; accompanied by Prentices drinking to him.

1 Neigh. Here, neighbor Horner, I drink to you in a cup of sack; and fear not, neighbor, you shall do well enough. 2 Neigh. And here, neighbor, here's a cup of charneco. 3 Neigh. And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbor: drink, and fear not your man.

Hor. Let it come, i'faith, and I'll pledge you all; and a fig for Peter!

1 Pren. Here, Peter, I drink to thee; and be not afraid. 2 Pren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master; fight for credit of the prentices.

Peter. I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for, I think, I have taken my last draught in this world. Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee my apron; and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer;-and here, Tom, take all the money that I have.- O Lord, bless me, I pray God! for I am never able to deal with my master, he hath learnt so much fence already.

Sal. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows.Sirrah, what's thy name?

Peter. Peter, forsooth.

Sal. Peter! what more?

Peter. Thump.

Sat. Thump! then see thou thump thy master well.

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Hor. Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's instigation, to prove him a knave, and myself an honest man; touching the duke of York, will take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the king, nor the queen. And, therefore, Peter, have at thee with a downright blow, as Bevis of Southampton fell upon Ascapart.

York. Despatch;-this knave's tongue begins to double. Sound trumpets, alarum to the combatants.

[Alarum. They fight, and Peter strikes down his Master.

Hor. Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.

[Dies.

York. Take away his weapon.- Fellow,

Thank God, and the good wine in thy master's way.

Peter. O God! have I overcome mine enemies in this presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right!

K. Hen. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; For, by his death, we do perceive his guilt. And God, in justice, hath revealed to us

The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,

Which he had thought to have murdered wrongfully.-
Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.

SCENE IV. The same. A Street.

[Exeunt.

Enter GLOSTER and Servants, in mourning cloaks. Glo. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; And, after summer, evermore succeeds

Barren winter, with his wrathful, nipping cold.
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
Sirs, what's o'clock?

Serv.

Ten, my lord.

Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me,
To watch the coming of my punished duchess..
Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
The abject people, gazing on thy face,

With envious looks, still laughing at thy shame ;
That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels,
When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.
But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare
My tear-stained eyes to see her miseries.

Enter the DUCHESS of GLOSTER, in a white sheet, with papers
pinned upon her back, her feet bare, and a taper burning
in her hand; SIR JOHN STANLEY, a Sheriff, and Officers.
Serv. So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.
Glo. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by.
Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
Now thou dost penance too. Look, how they gaze!
See how the giddy multitude do point,

And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks;
And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
Duch. Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself;
VOL. III.-3

For, whilst I think I am thy married wife,
And thou a prince, protector of this land,
Methinks I should not thus be led along,
Mailed up in shame, with papers on my back;
And followed with a rabble, that rejoice
To see my tears, and hear my deep-fet groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet;
And, when I start, the envious people laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.

Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
Trow'st thou, that e'er I'll look upon the world;
Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
No; dark shall be my light, and night my day;
To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, I am duke Humphrey's wife;
And he a prince, and ruler of the land:
Yet so he ruled, and such a prince he was,
As he stood by, whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
Was made a wonder, and a pointing-stock,
To every idle, rascal follower.

But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame;
Nor stir at nothing, till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will.
For Suffolk,- he that can do all in all
With her, that hateth thee and hates us all,-
And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings;
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee.
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared,
Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry;
I must offend before I be attainted.

And had I twenty times so many foes,

And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any scathe,
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away,
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.
I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience;

These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.

Enter a Herald.

Her. I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, holden at Bury the first of this next month.

Glo. And my consent ne'er asked herein before! This is close dealing.-Well, I will be there.

[Exit Herald.

My Nell, I take my leave;-and, master sheriff,
Let not her penance exceed the king's commission.
Sher. An't please your grace, here my commission stays;
And sir John Stanley is appointed now

To take her with him to the Isle of Man.

Glo. Must you, sir John, protect my lady here? Stan. So am I given in charge, may't please your grace. Glo. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray You use her well. The world may laugh again; And I may live to do you kindness, if

You do it her. And so, sir John, farewell.

Duch. What, gone, my lord; and bid me not farewell? Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.

[Exeunt GLOSTER and Servants.

Duch. Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee!

For none abides with me. My joy is-death;

Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,
Because I wished this world's eternity.
Stanley, I pr'ythee, go, and take me hence;

I care not whither, for I beg no favor,

Only convey me where thou art commanded.

Stan. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; There to be used according to your state.

Duch. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach; And shall I then be used reproachfully?

Stan. Like to a duchess, and duke Humphrey's lady,

According to that state you shall be used.

Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare; Although thou hast been conduct of my shame! Sher. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. Duch. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged.Come, Stanley, shall we go?

Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, And go we to attire you for our journey.

Duch. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet; No, it will hang upon my richest robes,

And show itself, attire me how I can.

Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. [Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury.

Enter, to the parliament, KING HENRY, QUEEN Margaret, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, and others.

K. Hen. I muse my lord of Gloster is not come.
'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,
Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.

Q. Mar. Can you not see? or will you not observe
The strangeness of his altered countenance?
With what a majesty he bears himself!
How insolent of late he is become,

How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself?
We know the time, since he was mild and affable;
And, if we did but glance a far-off look,
Immediately he was upon his knee,

That all the court admired him for submission;
But meet him now, and, be it in the morn,
When every one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow, and shows an angry eye,
And passeth by with stiff, unbowed knee,
Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
Small curs are not regarded when they grin;
But great men tremble when the lion roars;
And Humphrey is no little man in England.
First, note, that he is near you in descent;
And should you fall, he is the next will mount.
Me seemeth, then, it is no policy,-
Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,
And his advantage following your decease,-
That he should come about your royal person,
Or be admitted to your highness' council.
By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts;
And, when he please to make commotion,
'Tis to be feared, they all will follow him.

Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow rooted;
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care, I bear unto my lord,
Made me collect these dangers in the duke.
If it be fond, call it a woman's fear;
Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
I will subscribe and say-I wronged the duke.

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