*Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven, or hell: Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams, To make commotion, as full well he can, *In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade 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 Morisco,3 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 villanies. 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 tortur'd: '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. SCENE II.-Bury. A room in the palace. ter certain Murderers, hastily. 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; [Exit. Can chase away the first-conceived sound? 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? 'Despatch'd this thing? '1 Mur. Now, sirs, have you Ay, my good lord, he's dead. 'Suff. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house; 'I will reward you for this venturous deed. '1 Mur. 'Tis, my good lord. Say, we intend to try his grace to-day, 'Suff. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit. 'K. Hen. Lords, take your places;-And, pray you all, 'Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Than from true evidence, of good esteem, He be approv'd in practice culpable. (1) A violent gust of wind. (2) Irish foot-soldiers, light-armed. (3) A Moor in a morris dance. 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: * Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans, * I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach. *What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf? * Erect his statue then, and worship it, And make my image but an alehouse sign. *Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me; With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness: 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 * My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view, * A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,- * And so, I wish'd, thy body might my heart: And even with this, I lost fair England's view, To sit and watch me, as Ascanius did, Ah me, I can no more! Die, Margaret! 'War. It is reported, mighty sovereign, "By Suffolk and the cardinal Beaufort's means. 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 *War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view *K. Hen. That is to see how deep my grave is made: * For, with bis soul, fled all my worldly solace; *For seeing him, I see my life in death.' 'War. As surely as my soul intends to live 'With that dread King that took our state upon him 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. Suff. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemm tongue! 'What instance gives lord Warwick for his vow? Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless, 'To blush and beautify the cheek again. 'His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd 'Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodg'd. 'Suff. Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death? 'Myself, and Beaufort, had him in protection; And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers. War. But both of you were vow'd duke Humphrey's foes; 'And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep: K. Hen. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis Tis like, you would not feast him like a friend; too true; But how he died, God knows, not Henry: 'Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, With the rude multitude, till I return. [Warwick goes into an inner room, and K. Hen. O thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts: My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul, (1) i. e. I see my life destroyed or endangered by nis death. 'And 'tis well seen, he found an enemy. 'Q. Mar. Then you, belike, suspect these noble men And sces fast by a butcher with an axe, (2) A body becomes inanimate in the common course of nature, to which violence has not brought la timeless end. Even so suspicious is this tragedy. Q. Mar. Are you a butcher, Suffolk? where's Is Beaufort term'd a kite? where are his talons? [Exeunt Cardinal, Som. and others. War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him? Q. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious Nor cease to be an arrogant controller, Is slander to your royal dignity. Suff. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour! War. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee, Suff. Thou shalt be waking, while I shed thy If from this presence thou dar'st go with me. *Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just; 'K. Hen. Why, how now, lords? your wrath- 'Here in our presence? dare you be so bold?- Set all upon me, mighty sovereign. Noise of a crowd within. Re-enter Salisbury. your mind. [Speaking to those within. They will by violence tear him from your palace, 45 They say, in him they four your highness' death ; And mere instinct of love, and loyalty,'Free from a stubborn opposite intent, 'As being thought to contradict your liking,Makes them thus forward in his banishment. They say, in care of your most royal person, That, if your highness should intend to sleep, And charge that no man should disturb your rest, In pain of your dislike, or pain of death; *Yet notwithstanding such a strait edict, Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue, That slily glided towards your majesty, It were but necessary, you were wak'd; Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, *The mortal worm' might make the sleep eternal: * And therefore do they cry, though you forbid, That they will guard you, whe'r you will, or no, From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is; *With whose envenom'd and fatal sting, Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth, They say, is shamefully bereft of life. Commons. [Within.] An answer from the king, my lord of Salisbury. Suff. 'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds, Could send such message to their sovereign: 'K. Hen. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, 'K. Hen. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk. No more, I say; if thou dost plead for him, If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found The world shall not be ransom for thy life.Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me; 'I have great matters to impart to thee. [Exeunt K. Henry, Warwick, Lords, &c. 'Q. Mar. Mischance, and sorrow, go along with you! 'Heart's discontent, and sour affliction, 'Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies? (4) i. e. He shall not contaminate this air with This infected breath. T Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, Q. Mar. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st *And these dead curses-like the sun 'gainst glass, * And turn the force of them upon thyself. leave? Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, * Q. Mar. O, let me entreat thee, cease! Give 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; [Kisses his hand. That thou might'st think upon these by the seal, 'Through whom a thousand sighs are breath'd for thee! So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; "Tis but surmis'd whilst thou art standing by, *As one that surfeits thinking on a want. 'I will repeal thee, or, be well assur'd, Adventure to be banished myself: And banished I am, if but from thee. *Go, speak not to me; even now begone. 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! Enter Vaux. Were by his side; sometime, he calls the king, The secrets of his overcharged soul: 'Q. Mar. Go, tell this heavy message to the king. 'Now, get thee hence: The king, thou know'st, is coming: 'If thou be found by me, thou art but dead. Suff. If I depart from thee, I cannot live: Q. Mar. Away! though parting be a fretful It is applied to a deathful wound. To France, sweet Suffolk: Let me hear from thee; Q. Mar. And take my heart with thee. This way for me. SCENE III.-London. Cardinal Beaufort's bed-chamber. Enter King Henry, Salisbury, Warwick, and others. The Cardinal in bed; attendants with him. * K. Hen. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. 'Car. If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's 'Enough to purchase such another island, *K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, *Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will. 'Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live, whe'r they will or no? 'Q. Mar. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what O! torture me no more, I will confess. news, I pr'ythee? Vaux. To signify unto his majesty, That cardinal Beaufort is at point of death: (1) Ourse. 'Alive again? then show me where he is; Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul!- (3) The messenger of Juno. 'Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. K. Hen. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, *Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! O, beat away the busy meddling fiend, That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair! 'War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin. *Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably. *K. Hen. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! "Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up my hand, make signal of thy hope.'He dies, and makes no sign; O God, forgive him! 'War. So bad a death, argues a nonstrous life. 'K. Hen. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close; 'And let us all to meditation.. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I.-Kent. The sea-shore near Dover. Firing heard at sea. Then enter from a boat, a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, Walter Whitmore, and others; with them Suffolk, and other gentlemen, prisoners. Cap. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful' day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades That drag the tragic melancholy night; *Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings, *Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws *Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. Therefore, bring forth the soldiers of our prize; For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs, *Here shall they make their ransom on the sand, * Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.'Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;— "And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;"The other, [Pointing to Suff.] Walter Whitmore, is thy share. '1 Gent. What is my ransom, master? let me know. 'Mast. A thousand crowns, or else lay down Suff. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death. A cunning man did calculate my birth, 'And told me-that by Water I should die: Yet let not this make thee be bloody minded: Why name is-Gualtier, being rightly sounded. 'Whit. Gualtier, or Walter, which it is, I care not; Ne'er yet did base dishonour blur our name, But with our sword we wip'd away the blot; Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge, Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd, 'And I proclaim'd a coward through the world! [Lays hold on Suffolk. 'Suff. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince, The duke of Suffolk, William de la Poole. 'Whit. The duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags! Suff. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke; Jove sometime went disguis'd, and why not I? Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. 'Suff. Obscure and lowly swain, king Henry's The honourable blood of Lancaster, blood, Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.2 Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand, and held my stirrup ? Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule, And thought thee happy when I shook my head? How often hast thou waited at my cup, Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board, When I have feasted with queen Margaret? Remember it, and let it make thee crest-fall'n; Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride: How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood, *And duly waited for my coming forth? This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf, And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue. *Whit. Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain? your head. Thou dar'st not for thy own. Mate. And so much shall you give, or off goes Cap. Yes, Poole. Suff Poole ? yours. Cap. Poole? sir Poole ? lord? * Cap. What, think you much to pay two thou-Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt sand crowns, Troubles the silver spring where England drinks. 'Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth, For swallowing the treasure of the realm: Thy lips, that kiss'd the queen, shall sweep the ground; *And bear the name and port of gentlemen?*Cut both the villains' throats;-for die you shall; The lives of those which we have lost in fight, Cannot be counterpois'd with such a petty sum. * 1 Gent. I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare' And thou, that smil'dst at good duke Humphrey's my life. death, * 2 Gent. And so will I, and write home for it'Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain, *Who, in contempt, shall hiss at thee again: "And so should these, if I might have my will. (1) Pitiful. (2) A low fellow. (3) Pride that has had birth too soon. (4) To betroth in marriage. |