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K. Henry. Lords, take your places ;—-A
pray you all,

Proceed no ftraiter 'gamft our uncle Glofter,
Than from true evidence, of good efteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice fhould prevail,
That faultlefs may condemn a nobleman!
Pray God, he may acquit him of fufpicion !
K. Henry, I thank thee: Well, thefe words

content me much.

Re-enter Suffolk.
How now? why look'it thou pale ? why trembleft

thou?

Where is our uncle? what is the matter, Suffolk Saf. Dead in his bed, my lord; Glofter is dead. 2. Mar. Marry, God foretend!

Ca. God's fecret judgment :—I did dream tonight,

The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word.

2. Mar. How fares my lord-Help, lords ! the king is dead.

Although the duke was enemy to him,

Yet he, moft chriftian-like, laments his death;
And for myfelf,-foe as he was to me,
Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans,
Or blood-confuming fighs recall his life,
Look pale as primrofe with blood-drinking fighs,
I would be blind with weeping, fick with groans,

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 fhall my name with flander'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. Henry. Ah, woe is me for Glofter, wretched

man!

[he is. What, doft thou turn away, and hide thy face ? 9. Mar. Be woe for me, more wretched than I am no loathiome leper, look on me. What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?

Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen.

Is all thy comfort fhut in Gloiter's tomb ?
Why, then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy :
Erect his statue then, and worship it,
And make my image but an ale-house fign.
Was I, for this, nigh wreck'd upon the fea;
And twice by awkward 2 wind from England's
bank

Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well-fore-warning wind
Did feem to fay,—Seek not a fcorpion's nest,
[The King froms.Nor fet no footing on this unkind thore?
What did I then, but curs'd the gentle gufts,
And he that loos'd them from their brazen caves;
And bid them blow towards England's bleffed shore,
Or turn our ftern upon a dreadful rock ?
Yet Eolus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee:
The pretty vaulting fea refus'd to drown me ;
Knowing, that thou would it have me drown'd
on fhore

Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the nofe.
2. Mar. Run, go, help, help !-Oh, Henry, ope
thine eyes!

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

comfort!

9. Mar. How fares my gracious lord?
Suf. Comfort, my fovereign! gracious Henry,
[fort me?
K. Henry. What, doth my lord of Suffolk com-
Came he right now to fing a raven's note,
Whofe difmal tune bereft my vital powers;
And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren,
By crying confort from a hollow breast,
Can chafe away the firft-conceived found?
Hide not thy poifon with fuch fugar'd words.
Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
Their touch affrights me, as a ferpent's fting.
Thou baleful meffenger, out of my fight!
Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny
Sits, in grim majefty, to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding
Yet do not go away ;--Come, bafilifk,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy fight:
For in the fhade of death I fhall find joy;
In life, but double death, now Glotter's dead.
2. Mar. Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk
thus?

i. e. juft now, even now.

With tears as falt as fea through thy unkindness:
The iplitting rocks cowr'd in the fiaking fands,
And would not dath me with their ragged fides;
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perifh 3 Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy fhore the tempeft beat us back,
I ftood upon the hatches in the storm:
And when the dufky fky began to rob
My earnett-gaping fight of thy land's view,
I took a coftly jewel from my neck,--
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,——
And threw it towards thy land; the fea received it;
And fo, I with'd, thy body might my heart:
And even with this, I loft fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart;
And call'd them blind and dulky fpectacles,
For lofing ken of Albion's withed coaft.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue
(The agent of thy foul inconftancy)

2 i. e. adverse. 3 i. e. kill or deftroy.

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But how he died, God knows, not Henry:
Enter his chamber, view his breathlefs corpfe,
And comment then upon his fudden death.
War. That I fhall do, my liege :-Stay, Salisbury,
With the rude multitude, 'till I return.

[Warwick goes in. K. Henry. O Thou that judgeft all things, ftay my thoughts;

My thoughts, that labour to perfuade my foul,
Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life!
If my fufpect be falte, forgive me, God;
For judgment only doth belong to thee!
Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
With twenty thousand kifles, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of falt tears;

To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his band unfeeling:
But all in vain are thefe mean obfequies;
And, to furvey his dead and earthy image,
What were it but to make my forrow greater?
[A bed, with Glofter's body, put forth.
War. Come hither, gracious fovereign, view
this body.

K. Henry. That is to fee how deep my grave is

made:

For, with his foul, fled all my worldly folace;
For feeing him, I fee my life in death 1.

War. As furely as my foul intends to live
With that dread King, that took our state upon him
To free us from his Father's wrathful curfe,
I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.

Suf. A dreadful oath, fworn with a folemn
tongue!

What inftance gives lord Warwick for his vow ?
War. See, how the blood is fettled in his face!
Oft have I feen a timely-parted ghoft,
Of afhy femblance, meager, pale, and bloodlefs,
Being all defcended to the labouring heart;
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the fame for aidance 'gainit the enemy;

Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er
returneth

To bluth and beautify the cheek again.
But fee, his face is black, and full of blood;
His eye-balls further out than when he liv'd,
Staring full ghaftly like a strangled man:
His hair up-rear'd, his nottrils stretch'd with
His hands abroad difplay'd, as one that grafp'd
ftruggling;
And tugg'd for life, and was by ftrength fubdu’d.
Look on the theets, his hair, you fee, is flicking;
His well proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,
Like to the fummer's corn by tempeft lodgd.
It cannot be, but he was murder'd here;
The leaft of all thete figns were probable.

Suf. Why, Warwick, who fhould do the duke
to death?

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

War. But both of you were vow'd duke Hum-
phrey's foes;

And you, forfooth, had the good duke to keep:
'Tis like, you would not feat him like a friend;
And 'tis well feen, he found an enemy.

2. Mar. Then you, belike, fufpect these no-
blemen

As guilty of duke Humphrey's timeless death.
War. Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding
freth,

And fees faft by a butcher with an axe,
But will fufpect, 'twas he that made the flaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock's 2 nett,
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite fear with unbloody'd beak ?
Even fo fufpicious is this tragedy. [your knife?

2. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk where's
Is Beaufort term'd a kite? where are his talons ?
Suf. I wear no knife, to flaughter fleeping men;
But here's a vengeful fword, rufted with eafe,
That fhall be fcoured in his rancorous heart,
That flanders me with murder's crimton badge:-
Say, if thou dar'ft, proud lord of Warwickshire,
That I am faulty in duke Humphrey's death.

[Exit Cardinal

War. What dares not Warwick, if falfe Suffolk dare him?

2. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious fpirit,
Nor ceafe to be an arrogant controller,
Though Suffolk dare him twenty thoufand times.
War. Madam, be fill; with reverence may I
fay it;

For every word, you fpeak in his behalf,
Is flander to your royal dignity.

Suf. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour !
If ever lady wrong'd her lord fo much,
Thy mother took into her blameful bed
Some ftern untutor'd churl, and noble stock
Was graft with crab-tree flip; whofe fruit theu art,
And never of the Nevils' noble race.

War. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thes,
And I fhould rob the death's-man of his fee,

i. e. I fee my life deftroyed or endangered by his death.

2 The puttock is the bittern.

Quitting

Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my fovereign's prefence makes me mild,
I would, falfe murderous coward, on thy knee
Make thee heg pardon for thy paffed fpeech,
And fay--it was thy mother that thou meant'ft,
That thou thyfelf wast born in bastardy:
And, after all this fearful homage done,
Give thee thy hire, and fend thy foul to hell,
Pernicious blood-fucker of fleeping men! [blood,
Saf. Thou shalt be waking, while I thed thy
If from this presence thou dar'it go with me.
War. Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:
Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee,
And do fome fervice to duke Humphrey's ghoft.
[Exeunt.

K. Henry. What stronger breaft-plate than a

heart untainted!

Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his quarrel just;
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
Whofe confcience with injuftice is corrupted.
[A noife within.

9. Mar. What noife is this?
Re-enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons
drawn.

K. Henry. Why, how now, lords? your wrath-
ful weapons drawn

Here in our prefence? dare you be fo bold ?-
Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?
Saf. The traiterous Warwick, with the men
of Bury,

Set all upon me, mighty fovereign.

Noife of a crowd within. Enter Salisbury.
Sal. Sirs, ftand apart; the king fhall know
your mind.

Dread lord, the commons fend you word by me,
Unless lord Suffolk ftraight be done to death,
Or banished fair England's territories,
They will by violence tear him from your palace,
And torture him with grievous ling'ring death.
They fay, by him the good duke Humphrey died;
They fay, in him they fear your highnefs' death;
And mere inftinct of love and loyalty,--
Free from a ftubborn oppofite intent,
As being thought to contradict your liking,-
Makes them thus forward in his banishment.
They fay, in care of your most royal perfon,
That, if your highnefs fhould intend to fleep,
And charge-that no man should diftur 5 your reft,
In pain of your diflike, or pain of death;
Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict,
Were there a ferpent feen, with forked tongue,
That flily glided towards your majefty,
It were but neceffary you were wak'd;
Lett, being fuffer'd in that harmful flumber,

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The mortal worm might make the fleep eternal:
And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,

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From fuch fell ferpents as falfe Suffolk is;
With whofe envenomed and fatal fting,
Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
They fay, is thamefully bereft of life.
Commons [within] An anfwer from the king, my
lord of Salisbury.

Saf. 'Tis like, the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
Could fend fuch meilage to their fovereign:
But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
To fhew how quaint an orator you are:
But all the honour Salisbury hath won,
Is--that he was the lord ambalfador,
Sent from a fort 2 of tinkers to the king.
Within. An answer from the king, or we will
all break in.

K. Hen. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me
I thank them for their tender loving care:
And had I not been cited to by them,
Yet did I purpofe as they do entreat;
For, fure, my thoughts do hourly prophefy
Mifchance unto my fate by Suffolk's means
And therefore,-by His majesty I swear,
Whofe far unworthy deputy I am,-

He fhall not breathe infection in this air
But three days longer, on the pain of death.
[Exit Salisbury.

2. Mar. Oh Henry, let me plead for gentle
Suffolk !
[Suffolk.
K. Henry. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle
No more,
1 fy; if thou doft plead for him,
Thou wilt out add encreafe unto my wrath.
Had I but faid, I would have kept my word;
But, when I fwear, it is irrevocable :—
If, after three days fpace, thou here be'ft found
On any ground that I am ruler of,
The world thall not be ranfom for thy life.-
Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with

me;

I have great matters to impart to thee.

[Exeunt all but Suffolk, and the Queen. 9. Mar. Mitchance, and forrow, go along with you!

Heart's difcontent, and four affliction,
Be play-fellows to keep you company!
There's two of you; the devil make a third!
And three-fold vengeance tend upon your steps!
Suf. Ceafe, gentle queen, thefe execrations;
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

Mar. Fie, coward woman, and foft-hearted
wretch!

Haft thou not fpirit to curfe thine enemies?
Saf. A plague upon them! wherefore thould I

curfe them?
Would curfes kill, as doth the mandrake's groan 3,
I would invent as bitter fearching terms,
As curft, as harth, and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd ftrongly through my fixed teeth,

That they will guard you, whe'r you will, or no,With full as many signs of deadly hate,

3 The fabulous accounts of

1 Serpents in general were anciently called worms. 2 i. e. a company. the plant called a mandrake give it an inferior degree of animal life, and relate, that when it is torn from the ground it groans, and that this groan being certainly fatal to him that is offering fuch unwelcome violence, the practice of those who gather inaadrakes is to tie one end of a firing to the plant, and the other to a dog, upon whom the fatal groan difcharges its malignity.

As

As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathfome cave:
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;
Mine eyes fhould sparkle like the beaten flint;
My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract;
Ay, every joint should seem to curfe and ban:
And even now my burden'd heart would break,
Should I not curfe them. Poifon be their drink!
Gall, worfe than gall, the daintieft that they tafte!
Their sweetest fhade, a grove of cypress trees!
Their chiefeft profpect, murdering bafilifks 2!
Their fofteft touch, as fmart as lizards' 2 ftings!
Their mufic, frightful as the ferpent's hifs;
And beding fcritch-owls make the concert full!
All the foul terrors in dark-feated hell-

2. Mar. Enough, fweet Suffolk, thou tor-
ment it thyself:

And thefe dread curfes-like the fun 'gainft glass,
Or like an over-charged gun,-recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thyself.

Enter Vaux.

2. Mar. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what
news, 1 pr'ythee?

Vaux. To fignify unto his majesty,
That cardinal Beaufort is at point of death:
For fuddenly a grievous fickness took him,
That makes him gafp, and ftare, and catch the air,
Blafpheming God, and curfing men on earth.
Sometime, he talks as if duke Humphrey's ghoft
Were by his fide; fometime, he calls the king,
And whispers to his pillow, as to him,
The fecrets of his over-charged foul :
And I am fent to tell his majefty,
That even now he cries aloud for him.

2. Mar. Go, tell this heavy meffage to the king.
[Exit Faux.

Ay me! what is this world? what news are thefe ?
But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor lofs 4,
Omitting Suffolk's exile, my foul's treasure?

Suf. You bade me ban 3, and will you bid me Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,

leave?

Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
Well could I curfe away a winter's night,
Though ftanding naked on a mountain top,
Where biting cold would never let grafs grow,
And think it but a minute spent in fport.

2. Mar. Oh, let me entreat thee ceafe! Give
me thy hand,

That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wath away my woeful monuments.
Oh, could this kifs be printed in thy hand;
[Kiffes bis band.
That thou might'ft think upon thefe by the feal,
Through whom a thousand fighs are breath'd for
thee!

So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
'Tis but furmis'd whilft thou art standing by,
As one that furfeits thinking on a want.
I will repeal thee, or, be well affur'd,
Adventure to be banished myfelf:
And banished I am, if but from thee.
Go, fpeak not to me; even now be gone.-
Oh, go not yet!-Even thus two friends con-
demn'd

Embrace, and kits, and take ten thousand leaves,
Lother a hundred times to part than die.
Yet now farewel; and farewel life with thee!

Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times bannhed,
Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou hence;
A wilderness is populous enough,
So Suffolk had thy heavenly company;
For where thou art, there is the world itself,
With every feveral pleasure in the world;
And where thou art not, defolation.
1 can no more:-Live thou to joy thy life;
Myfelf no joy in nought, but that thou liv'st.

And with the fouthern clouds contend in tears;
Theirs for the earth's encrease, mine for my for-
rows?
[coming;

Now, get thee hence.-The king, thou know'ft, is
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.

Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot live :
And in thy fight to die, what were it else,
But like a pleafant flumber in thy lap?
Here could I breathe my foul into the air,
As mild and gentle as the cradle babe,
Dying with mother's dug between its lips:
Where, from thy fight, I fhould be raging mad,
And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,
To have thee with thy lips to ftop my mouth;
So fhouldft thou either turn my flying foul,
Or I thould breathe it fo into thy body,
And then it liv'd in fweet Elyfium.

To die by thee, were but to die in jeft;

From thee to die, were torture more than death;
O, let me ftay, befall what may be all. [corrofive,
9. Mar. Away! though parting be a fretful
It is applied to a deathful wound.

To France, fweet Suffolk: Let me hear from thee;
For wherefoe'er thou art in this world's globe,
I'll have an Iris that thall find thee out.

Suf. I go.

Q. Mar. And take my heart with thee.
Suf. A jewel lock'd into the woful'ft cafk
That ever did contain a thing of worth.
Even as a iplitted bark, fo funder we:
This way fail 1 to death.

2. Mar., This way for me. [Exeunt, feverally.

SCENE 111.

The Cardinal's Bed-chamber. Enter K. Henry, Salisbury, Warwick, and others, to the Cardinal in bed.

K. Henry. How fares my lord? fpeak, Beaufort, to thy fovereign.

1 Cypress was employed in the funeral rites of the Romans, and herce is always mentioned as an ill-boding plant. 2 It has been faid of the bafilijk, that it had the power of deitroying by a tingle glance of its eye. A lizard has no fing, but is quite inoffenfive. 3 .. curfe. 4 Meaning, Wherefore do I grieve that Peaufort has tied an hour before his time, who, being an old man, could not have had a long time to live? 5 Iris was the mullenger of June.

Car.

Car. If thou be'ft death, I'll give thee England's, Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch !
Enough to purchase such another island, [treasure,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.

K. Henry. Ah, what a fign it is of evil life,
When death's approach is feen fo terrible!

War. Beaufort, it is thy fovereign fpeaks to thee.
Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will.
Dy'd he not in his bed? where fhould he die?
Can I make men live, whe'r they will or no?—-
Oh! torture me no more, I will confefs.-
Alive again? then fhew me where he is:
I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him.-
He hath no eyes, the duft hath blinded them.--
Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright,
Like lime-twigs fet to catch my winged foul !—
Give me fome drink; and bid the apothecary
Bring the ftrong poifon that I bought of him.
K. Henry. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, {

Oh, beat away the bufy meddling fiend,
That lays ftrong fiege unto this wretch's foul,
And from his bofom purge this black despair!
War. See, how the pangs of death do make him
grin.

Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
K. Henry. Peace to his foul, if God's good plea-
fure be !-

Lord cardinal, if thou think'ft on heaven's blifs,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.-
He dies, and makes no fign:-O God, forgive him!
War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
K. Henry. Forbear to judge, for we are finners
all.-

Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close;
And let us all to meditation.

[Exeunt.

SCENE I. The Coaf of Kent.

ACT

Alarm. Fight at Sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter Captain Whitmore, and other pirates, with Suffolk and other prifoners.

IV.

Whit. I loft mine eye in laying the prize aboard, And therefore, to revenge it, fhalt thou die ;

[To Suffolk.

And fo fhould thefe, if I might have my will.
Cap. Be not fo rash; take ransom, let him live.
Suf. Look on my George, I am a gentleman;

THE gaudy, blabbing', and remorfe- Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.--

Cap. Tful day

Is crept into the bofom of the fea;

And now loud-howling wolves aroufe the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night;

Who with their drowfy, flow, and flagging wings
Clip dead men's graves, and from their mifty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
Therefore bring forth the foldiers of our prize;
For, whilft our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
Here fhall they make their ranfom on the fand,
Or with their blood ftain this difcolour'd fhore.
Mafter, this prifoner freely give I thee ;-
And thou that art his mate, make boot of this ;-
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

yours.

[Pointing to Suffolk. Gent. What is my ranfom, mafter? let me know. [head. Maft. A thoufand crowns, or else lay down your Mate. And fo much fhall you give, or off goes [fand crowns, Whit. What, think you much to pay two thouAnd bear the name and port of gentlemen ?Cat both the villains' throats;-for die you fhall; Nor can thofe lives which we have loft in fight,' Be counter-pois'd with such a petty fum. [life. 1 Gent. I'll give it, fir; and therefore spare my Gent. And fo will I, and write home for it ftraight.

Whit. And fo am I; my name is-Walter Whitmore.

affright?

How now why ftart it thou? what, doth death
[death.
Suf. Thy name affrights me, in whofe found is
A cunning man did calculate my birth,
And told me--that by Water 3 I should die :
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is-Gualtier, being rightly founded.

Whit. Gualtier, or Walter, which it is, I care not:
Ne'er yet did base dishonour blur our name,
But with our fword we wip'd away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I tell revenge,
Broke be my fword, my arms torn and defac'd,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!

Suf. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prifoner is a prince, The duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

Whit The duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags Suf. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke; Jove fometime went difguis'd, And why not I? Cap. But Jove was never flain, as thou shalt be. Suf. Obfcure and lowly fwain, king Henry's The honourable blood of Lancaster, [blood, Muft not be shed by fuch a jaded groom. Haft thou not kifs'd thy hand, and held my stirrop? And bare-head plodded by my foot-cloth mule, And thought thee happy when I fhook my head ?' How often haft thou waited at my cup,

The epithet blabbing, applied to the day by a man about to commit murder, is exquifitely beautiful. Guilt is afraid of light, confiders darknefs as a natural fhel.er, and makes night the confidante of thofe actions which cannot be truited to the tell-tale day. 2 Remorfeful is pitiful. fourth fcene of the first aut of this play.

3 See the

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