And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee:
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snar'd,
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.
Would'st have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away,
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell:

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 ask'd 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

Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclin'd as are the ravenous wolves.
Who cannot steal a shape, that means deceit?
Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.
Enter SoᎬᎡᏚᎬᎢ,

Som. All health unto my gracious sovereign!
K. Hen. Welcome, lord Somerset. What news
from France?

Som. That all your interest in those territories
Is utterly bereft you; all is lost.

K. Hen. Cold news, lord Somerset: but God's will be
done!

York. Cold news for me: for I had hope of France,
As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud,
And caterpillars eat my leaves away:
But I will remedy this gear ere long,
Or sell my title for a glorious grave.
Enter GLOSTER.

[Aside.

And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,
And equity exil'd your highness' land.
I know, their complot is to have my life;
And, if my death might make this island happy,
And prove the period of their tyranny,
I would expend it with all willingness:
But mine is made the prologue to their play;
For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril,
Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back,
By false accuse doth level at my life:
And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
Causeless have laid disgraces on my head;
And, with your best endeavour, have stirr'd up
My liefest liege to be mine enemy:-
Ay, all of you have laid your heads together,
Myself had notice of your conventicles,

Glo. All happiness unto my lord the king!
Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long.
Suf. Nay, Gloster, know, that thou art come to soon,
Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art:
I do arrest thee of high treason here.

Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not see me blush,
Nor change my countenance for this arrest;
A heart unspotted is not easily daunted.
The purest spring is not so free from mud,

As I am clear from treason to my sovereign:
Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?

I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
The ancient proverb will be well affected,—
A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.

Car. My liege, his railing is intolerable:
If those, that care to keep your royal person
From treason's secret knife, and traitors' rage,
Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,

York. 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of And the offender granted scope of speech,
France,

And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay;
By means whereof, his highness hath lost France.
Glo. Is it but thought so? what are they that think it?
I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay,
Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
So help me God, as I have watch'd the night,
Ay, night by night,-in studying good for England!
That doit, that e'er I wrested from the king,
Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
Be brought against me at my trial day!
No! many a pound of mine own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
Have I dispersed to the garrisons,
And never ask'd for restitution.

Car. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
Glo. I say no more than truth, so help me God!
York. In your protectorship, you did devise
Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of,
That England was defam'd by tyranny.

"Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace.
Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here
With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd,
As if she had suborned some to swear
False allegations, to o'erthrow his state?

Q. Mar. But I can give the loser leave to chide.
Glo. Far truer spoke, than meant: I lose, indeed;-
Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false!
And well such losers may have leave to speak.
Buck. He'll wrest the sense, and hold us here all day:-
Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner.

Car. Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure.
Glo. Ah, thus king Henry throws away his crutch,
Before his legs be firm to bear his body:
Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side,
And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.
Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were!
For, good king Henry, thy decay I fear.

[Exeunt Attendants, with Gloster. K.Hen. My lords, what to your wisdom seemeth best,

Glo. Why, 'tis well known, that, whiles I was pro- Do, or undo, as if ourself were here.

tector,

Pity was all the fault that was in me;
For I should melt at an offender's tears,
And lowly words were ransom for their fault.
Unless it were a bloody murderer,

Or foul felonious thief, that fleec'd poor passengers,
I never gave them condign punishment:
Murder, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
Above the felon, or what trespass else.
Suf. My lord,these faults are easy, quickly answer'd:
But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
I do arrest you in his highness' name;
And here commit you to my lord cardinal
To keep, until your further time of trial.

K. Hen. My lord of Gloster, 'tis my special hope,
That you will clear yourself from all suspects;
My conscience tells me you are innocent.
Glo. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous!
Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,

Q. Mar. What, will your highness leave the parlia

ment?

K. Hen. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with
grief,

Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes;
My body round engirt with misery;
For what's more miserable than discontent?-
Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth, and loyalty;
And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come,
That e'er I prov'd thee false, or fear'd thy faith.
What low'ring star now envies thy estate,
That these great lords, and Margaret our queen,
Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?
Thou never didst them wrong,nor no man wrong
And as the butcher takes away the calf,
And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house;
Even so, remorseless, have they borne him hence.
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,

Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling's loss;
Even so myself bewails good Gloster's case
With sad unhelpful tears; and with dimm'd eyes
Look after him, and cannot do him good;
So mighty are his vowed enemies.

His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan,
Say Who's a traitor? Gloster he is none. [Exit.
Q. Mar. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's

hot beams.

Henry my lord is cold in great affairs,

Too full of foolish pity: and Gloster's show
Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers;
Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowering bauk,
With shining chequer'd slough, doth sting a child,
That, for the beauty, thinks it excellent.

Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I,
(And yet, herein, I judge mine own wit good,)
This Gloster should be quickly rid the world,
To rid us from the fear we have of him.
Car. That he should die is worthy policy;
But yet we want a colour for his death:
'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law.
Suf. But, in my mind, that were no policy:
The king will labour still to save his life,
The commons haply rise to save his life;
And yet we have but trivial argument,
More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death.
York. So that by this, you would not have him die.
Suf. Ah, York, no man alive so fain as J.

York. 'Tis York, that hath more reason for his
death.-

But, my lord cardinal, and you, my lord of Suffolk,-
Say as you think, and speak it from your souls,-
Were't not all one, an empty eagle were set
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
As place duke Humphrey for the king's protector?
Q. Mar. So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
Suf. Madam, 'tis true: and were't not madness, then,
To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
Who being accus'd a crafty murderer,
His guilt should be but idly posted over,
Because his purpose is not executed.
No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
By nature prov'd an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood;
As Humphrey, prov'd by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets, how to slay him:
Be it by gins, by snares, by subtilty,
Sleeping, or waking, 'tis no matter how,
So he be dead; for that is good deceit
Which mates him first, that first intends deceit.
Q. Mar. Thrice noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.
Suf. Not resolute, except so much were done;
For things are often spoke, and seldom meant:
But, that my heart accordeth with my tongue,-
Seeing the deed is meritorious,

And to preserve my sovereign from his foe,-
Say but the word, and I will be his priest.
Car. But I would have him dead, my lord of Suffolk,
Ere you can take duke orders for a priest:
Say, you consent, and censure well the deed,
And I'll provide his executioner,

I tender so the safety of my liege.

Suf. Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.
Q. Mar. And so say I.

York. And I and now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly who impugns our docm.
Enter a Messenger.

Mess. Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain,
To signify that rebels there are up,
And put the Englishmen unto the sword:

Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime,
Before the wound do grow incurable;

For, being green, there is great hope of help.
Car. A breach, that craves a quick expedient stop!
What counsel give you in this weighty cause?
York. That Somerset be sent as regent thither:
'Tis meet, that lucky ruler be employ'd;
Witness the fortune he hath had in France.
Som. If York, with all his far-fet policy,
Had been the regent there instead of me,
He never would have staid in France so long.
York. No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done:
I rather would have lost my life betimes,
Than bring a burden of dishonour home,
By staying there so long, till all were lost.
Show me one scar charácter'd on thy skin:
Men's flesh preserv'd so whole, do seldom win.
Q. Mar. Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire,
If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with:-
No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be still;-
Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,
Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.
York. What, worse than naught? nay, then a shame

Som. And, in the number, thee, that wishest shame.
Car. My lord of York, try what your fortune is.
The uncivil Kernes of Ireland are in arms,
And temper clay with blood of Englishmen :
To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
Collected choicely, from each county some,
And try your hap against the Irishmen?

York. I will, my lord, so please his majesty.
Suf. Why, our authority is his consent;
And, what we do establish, he confirms:
Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.
York. I am content. Provide me soldiers, lords,
Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.
Suf. A charge, lord York, that I will see perform'd.
But now return we to the false duke Humphrey.
Car. No more of him; for I will deal with him,
That, henceforth, he shall trouble us no more.
And so break off; the day is almost spent:
Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event.
York. My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days,
At Bristol I expect my soldiers;

For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.
Suf, I'll see it truly done, my lord of York.

[Exeunt all but York. York. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, And change misdoubt to resolution:

Be that thou hop'st to be: or what thou art
Resign to death, it is not worth the enjoying:
Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man,
And find no harbour in a royal heart.
Faster than spring-time showers, comes thought on
thought;

And not a thought, but thinks on dignity.
My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,
Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done,
To send me packing with an host of men:
I fear me, you but warm the starved snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me :
I take it kindly; yet, be well assur'd
You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands.
Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
I will stir up in England some black storm,
Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven, or hell:
And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage
Until the golden circuit on my head,
Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.

And, for a minister of my intent,

I have seduc'd a headstrong Kentishman,
John Cade of Ashford,

To make commotion, as full well he can,
Under the title of John Mortimer.

In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
Oppose himself against a troop of Kernes;
And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts
Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porcupine:
And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen him
Caper upright like a wild Mórisco,
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty Kerne,
Hath he conversed with the enemy;
And undiscover'd come to me again,
And given me notice of their villainies.
This devil here shall be my substitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble:
By this I shall perceive the commons' mind,
How they affect the house and claim of York.
Say, he be taken, rack'd, and tortured;

I know, no pain, they can inflict upon him,
Will make him say--I mov'd him to those arms.
Say, that he thrive, (as 'tis great like he will,)
Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd:
For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put apart, the next for me.

[Exit.

SCENE II. Bury. A room in the palace.
Enter certain Murderers hastily.

1 Mur, Run to my lord of Suffolk; let him know,
We have despatch'd the duke, as he commanded.
2 Mur. O, that it were to do!-What have we done?
Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter SUFFOLK.

1 Mur. Here comes my lord. Suf. Now, sirs, have you

Despatch'd this thing?

1 Mur. Ay, my good lord, he's dead.

Suf. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house;
I will reward you for this venturous deed.
The king and all the peers are here at hand.-
Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well,
According as I gave directions?
Mur 'Tis, my good lord.
Suf. Away, be gone!
[Exeunt Murderers.
Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BEAU-
FORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and Others.

K. Hen. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight:
Say, we intend to try his grace to-day,
If he be guilty, as 'tis published.

Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit.
K.Hen.Lords, take your places;-and I pray you all,
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster,
Than from true evidence, of good esteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid any malice should prevail,
That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion!

A

A

Suf. He doth revive again; -Madam, be patient.
K. Hen. O heavenly God!

Q. Mar. How fares my gracious lord?
Suf.Comfort,my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!
K. Hen. What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a raven's note,
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers;
And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chase away the first-conceived sound?
Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words.
Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
Their touch affrights me, as a serpent's sting.
Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!
Upon thy eye-balls murd'rous tyranny
Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding:-
Yet do not go away. Come, basilisk,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death I shall find joy;
In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead.
Q. Mar. Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk thus?
Although the duke was enemy to him,
Yet he, most christian-like, laments his death:
And for myself,-foe as he was to me,
Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans,
Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,
I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
Look pale as primrose, with blood-drinking sighs,
And all to have the noble duke alive.

What know I how the world may deem of me?
For it is known, we were but hollow friends;
It may be judg'd, I made the duke away:
So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded,
And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach.
This get I by his death. Ah me, unhappy!
To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!
K. Hen. Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man!
Q. Mar. Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
What, dost thou turn away, and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome leper, look on me.
What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?
Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloster's tomb?
Why, then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy:
Erect his statue then, and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I, for this, nigh wreck'd upon the sea;
And twice by aukward wind from England's bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well-forewarning wind
Did seem to say,-Seek not a scorpion's nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind shore?
What did I then, but curs'd the gentle gusts,
And he that loos'd them from their brazen caves;
And bid them blow towards England's blessed shores,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer,

K. Ilen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words con- But left that hateful office unto thee:
tent me much.

-

The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me;
Knowing, that thou would'st have me drown'd on

shore,

With tears as salt'as sea, through [thy unkindness:
The splitting rocks cow'rd in the sinking sands,
And would not dash me with their ragged sides:
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from the shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm:
And when the dusky sky began to rob

A
A

A

A

F

I

My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck,

A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,

And threw it towards thy land; - the sea receiv'd it;
And so, I wish'd, thy body might my heart:
And even with this, I lost fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart:
And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles,
For losing ken of Albion's wished coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue
(The agent of thy foul inconstancy,)
To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did,
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy?
Am I not witch'd like her? or thon not false like him?
Ah me, I can no more! Die, Margaret!
For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
Noise within. Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY,
The Commons press to the door.

War. It is reported, mighty sovereign,
That good duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd
By Suffolk and the cardinal Beaufort's means.
The commons, like an angry hive of bees,
That want their leader, scatter up and down,
And care not who they sting in his revenge.
Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.

But, see, his face is black, and full of blood;
His eye-balls farther out than when he liv'd,
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man:
His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with strug-
gling;
His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd
And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdu'd.
Look on the sheets, his hair, you see, is sticking;
His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodg'd.
It cannot be, but he was murder'd here;
The least of all these signs were probable.
Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to
death?

Myself, and Beaufort, had him in protection;
And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.

liar. But both of you were vow'd duke Humphrey's
foes;

And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep:
'Tis like, you would not feast him like a friend;
And 'tis seen he found an enemy.

Q. Mar.
Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen
As guilty of duke Humphrey's timeless death.
War. Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding fresh,
And sees fast by a butcher with an axe,

But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest,

K. Hen. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too But may imagine how the bird was dead,

true;

But how he died, God knows, not Henry:
Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
And comment then upon his sudden death.
War. That I shall do, my liege.Stay, Salisbury,
With the rude multitude, till I return.

[Warwick goes into an inner room, and
Salisbury retires.

K. Hen. O thou, that judgest all things, stay my
thoughts;

My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul,
Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
If my suspect be false, forgive me, God;
For judgment only doth belong to thee!
Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of salt tears;
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling:
But all in vain are these mean obsequies;
And to survey his dead and earthly image,
What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
The folding doors of an inner chamber are thrown
open,
and GLOSTER is discovered dead in his
bed: WARWICK and Others standing by it.
War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this
body.

K. Hen. That is to see how deep my grave is made:
For, with his soul, fled all my worldly solace;
For seeing him, I see my life in death.
War. As surely as my soul intends to live

Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

Q. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk; where's your
knife?

Is Beaufort term'd a kite? where are his talons?
Suf. I wear no knife, to slaughter sleeping men;
But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,
That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart,
That slanders me with murder's crimson badge:-
Say, if thou dar'st, proud lord of Warwickshire,
That I am faulty in duke Humphrey's death.

[Exeunt Cardinal, Som. and Others. War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

Q. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,
Nor cease to be au arrogant controller,

Thongh Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times..
War. Madam, be still; with reverence may I say;
For every word you speak in his behalf,
Is slander to your royal dignity.

Suf. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour !
If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,
Thy mother took into her blameful bed
Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock
Was graft with crabtree slip; whose fruit thou art,
And never of the Nevils' noble race.

War. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee,
And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,
I would, false murderous coward, on thy knee

With that dread King, that took our state upon him, Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech,

To free us from his Father's wrathful curse,
I do believe, that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.

Suf. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
What instance gives lord Warwick for his vow?
War. See, how the blood is settled in his face!
Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,

Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodless
Being all descended to the labouring heart;
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy;
Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth
To blush and beautify the cheek again.

And say,-it was thy mother, that thou meant'st,
That thou thyself wast born in bastardy:
And, after all this fearful homage done,
Give thee thy hire, and send thy soul to hell,
Pernicious bloodsucker of sleeping men!
Suf. Thou shalt be waking, while I shed thy blood,
If from this presence thou dar'st go with me.
War. Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:
Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee,
And do some service to duke Humphrey's ghost.
[Exeunt Suffolk and Warwick.
K. Hen. What stronger breast-plate than a heart
untainted?