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twg_000000019000 | eer thy father Henry made it mine; And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it As others would ambitiously receive it. Farewell, good King. When I am dead and gone, May honourable peace attend thy throne. [_Exit._] QUEEN MARGARET. Why, now is Henry King and Margaret Queen, And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, That bears so shrewd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019001 | a maim. Two pulls at once; His lady banished, and a limb lopped off. This staff of honour raught, there let it stand Where it best fits to be, in Henrys hand. SUFFOLK. Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; Thus Eleanors pride dies in her youngest days. YORK. Lords, let him go.Please it your majesty, This is | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019002 | the day appointed for the combat, And ready are the appellant and defendant, The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, So please your highness to behold the fight. QUEEN MARGARET. Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore Left I the court to see this quarrel tried. KING HENRY. I Gods name, see the lists and all things fit. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019003 | 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 his armourer, my lords. Enter at one door Horner the armourer, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters with a drum before | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019004 | him and his staff with a sandbag fastened to it; and at the other door Peter, his man, with a drum and sandbag, and Prentices drinking to him. NEIGHBOUR. Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of sack; and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. NEIGHBOUR. And here, neighbour, heres a cup of charneco. NEIGHBOUR. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019005 | And heres a pot of good double beer, neighbour. Drink, and fear not your man. HORNER. Let it come, i faith, and Ill pledge you all; and a fig for Peter! PRENTICE. Here, Peter, I drink to thee, and be not afraid. PRENTICE. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master. Fight for credit of the prentices. PETER. I thank | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019006 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019007 | never able to deal with my master, he hath learnt so much fence already. SALISBURY. Come, leave your drinking and fall to blows. Sirrah, whats thy name? PETER. Peter, forsooth. SALISBURY. Peter? What more? PETER. Thump. SALISBURY. Thump! Then see thou thump thy master well. HORNER. Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my mans instigation, to prove | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019008 | him a knave and myself an honest man; and touching the Duke of York, I 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! YORK. Dispatch! This knaves tongue begins to double. Sound, trumpets. Alarum to the combatants! [_They fight, and Peter strikes | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019009 | him down._] HORNER. Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason. [_Dies._] YORK. Take away his weapon.Fellow, thank God and the good wine in thy masters way. PETER. O God, have I overcome mine enemies in this presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right! KING HENRY. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight, For by his death we | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019010 | 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. [_Sound a flourish. Exeunt._] SCENE IV. A Street Enter Gloucester and his Servingmen in mourning cloaks. GLOUCESTER. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019011 | And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold; So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. Sirs, whats oclock? SERVINGMEN. Ten, my lord. GLOUCESTER. 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019012 | ill can thy noble mind abrook The abject people gazing on thy face With envious looks, 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 Ill prepare My tear-stained eyes to see her miseries. Enter the Duchess of Gloucester in a | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019013 | white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with Sir John Stanley, the Sheriff, and Officers. SERVINGMEN. So please your Grace, well take her from the sheriff. GLOUCESTER. No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by. ELEANOR. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! See how | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019014 | the giddy multitude do point, And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee. Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! GLOUCESTER. Be patient, gentle Nell, forget this grief. ELEANOR. Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! For whilst I think | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019015 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019016 | people laugh And bid me be advised how I tread. Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? Trowest thou that eer Ill 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. Sometimes Ill say, I am Duke | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019017 | Humphreys 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019018 | 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, theyll tangle thee. But fear not thou until thy foot be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019019 | snared, Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. GLOUCESTER. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019020 | 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. HERALD. I summon your grace to his majestys parliament, Holden at Bury | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019021 | the first of this next month. GLOUCESTER. And my consent neer 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 Kings commission. SHERIFF. An t please your grace, here my commission stays, And Sir John Stanley is appointed now To | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019022 | take her with him to the Isle of Man. GLOUCESTER. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? STANLEY. So am I given in charge, may t please your grace. GLOUCESTER. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019023 | it her. And so, Sir John, farewell. ELEANOR. What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell? GLOUCESTER. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. [_Exeunt Gloucester and Servingmen._] ELEANOR. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019024 | wished this worlds eternity. Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence, I care not whither, for I beg no favour, Only convey me where thou art commanded. STANLEY. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man, There to be used according to your state. ELEANOR. Thats bad enough, for I am but reproach; And shall I then be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019025 | used reproachfully? STANLEY. Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphreys lady; According to that state you shall be used. ELEANOR. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. SHERIFF. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. ELEANOR. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged. Come, Stanley, shall we go? STANLEY. Madam, your | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019026 | penance done, throw off this sheet, And go we to attire you for our journey. ELEANOR. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019027 | St. Edmunds Sound a sennet. Enter the King, the Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick to the Parliament. KING HENRY. I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come. Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, Whateer occasion keeps him from us now. QUEEN MARGARET. Can you not see, or will ye not observe The | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019028 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019029 | meet him now, and be it in the morn When everyone 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019030 | 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019031 | 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 theyll oergrow 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019032 | Duke. If it be fond, can it a womans fear; Which fear if better reasons can supplant, I will subscribe and say I wronged the Duke. My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, Reprove my allegation if you can, Or else conclude my words effectual. SUFFOLK. Well hath your highness seen into this Duke; And, had I first been put | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019033 | to speak my mind, I think I should have told your graces tale. The Duchess by his subornation, Upon my life, began her devilish practices; Or, if he were not privy to those faults, Yet, by reputing of his high descent, As next the King he was successive heir, And such high vaunts of his nobility Did instigate the bedlam | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019034 | brain-sick Duchess By wicked means to frame our sovereigns fall. Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep, And in his simple show he harbours treason. The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. No, no, my sovereign, Gloucester is a man Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. CARDINAL. Did he not, contrary to form of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019035 | law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done? YORK. And did he not, in his protectorship, Levy great sums of money through the realm For soldiers pay in France, and never sent it? By means whereof the towns each day revolted. BUCKINGHAM. Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown, Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke Humphrey. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019036 | KING HENRY. My lords, at once: the care you have of us To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot Is worthy praise; but, shall I speak my conscience, Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent From meaning treason to our royal person As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove. The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019037 | To dream on evil or to work my downfall. QUEEN MARGARET. Ah, whats more dangerous than this fond affiance? Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrowed, For hes disposed as the hateful raven. Is he a lamb? His skin is surely lent him, For hes inclined as is the ravenous wolves. Who cannot steal a shape that means | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019038 | deceit? Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. Enter Somerset. SOMERSET. All health unto my gracious sovereign! KING HENRY. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? SOMERSET. That all your interest in those territories Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. KING HENRY. Cold news, Lord Somerset; but Gods will | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019039 | be done. YORK. [_Aside_.] 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 Gloucester. GLOUCESTER. All happiness unto my lord | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019040 | the King! Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long. SUFFOLK. Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art. I do arrest thee of high treason here. GLOUCESTER. Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush, Nor change my countenance for this arrest. A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019041 | 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? YORK. Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, And, being Protector, stayed the soldiers pay, By means whereof his highness hath lost France. GLOUCESTER. Is it but thought so? What are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019042 | they that think it? I never robbed the soldiers of their pay, Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. So help me God, as I have watched the night, Ay, night by night, in studying good for England! That doit that eer I wrested from the King, Or any groat I hoarded to my use, Be brought against me | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019043 | at my trial day! No, many a pound of mine own proper store, Because I would not tax the needy commons, Have I dispursed to the garrisons And never asked for restitution. CARDINAL. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. GLOUCESTER. I say no more than truth, so help me God! YORK. In your protectorship you did | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019044 | devise Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, That England was defamed by tyranny. GLOUCESTER. Why, tis well known that, whiles I was Protector, Pity was all the fault that was in me; For I should melt at an offenders tears, And lowly words were ransom for their fault. Unless it were a bloody murderer, Or foul felonious thief that | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019045 | fleeced poor passengers, I never gave them condign punishment. Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured Above the felon or what trespass else. SUFFOLK. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered; 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019046 | Lord Cardinal To keep until your further time of trial. KING HENRY. My Lord of Gloucester, tis my special hope That you will clear yourself from all suspense. My conscience tells me you are innocent. GLOUCESTER. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous. Virtue is choked with foul ambition, And charity chased hence by rancours hand; Foul subornation is predominant, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019047 | And equity exiled 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019048 | tragedy. Beauforts red sparkling eyes blab his hearts malice, And Suffolks 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 plucked back, By false accuse doth level at my life. And you, my sovereign lady, with the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019049 | rest, Causeless have laid disgraces on my head And with your best endeavour have stirred up My liefest liege to be mine enemy. Ay, all of you have laid your heads together Myself had notice of your conventicles And all to make away my guiltless life. I shall not want false witness to condemn me, Nor store of treasons to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019050 | augment my guilt. The ancient proverb will be well effected: A staff is quickly found to beat a dog. CARDINAL. My liege, his railing is intolerable. If those that care to keep your royal person From treasons secret knife and traitors rage Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at, And the offender granted scope of speech, Twill make them cool | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019051 | in zeal unto your grace. SUFFOLK. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here With ignominious words, though clerkly couched, As if she had suborned some to swear False allegations to oerthrow his state? QUEEN MARGARET. But I can give the loser leave to chide. GLOUCESTER. Far truer spoke than meant. I lose, indeed. Beshrew the winners, for they played | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019052 | me false! And well such losers may have leave to speak. BUCKINGHAM. Hell wrest the sense and hold us here all day. Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner. CARDINAL. Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him sure. GLOUCESTER. Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch Before his legs be firm to bear his body. Thus is the shepherd | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019053 | 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. [_Exit Gloucester, guarded._] KING HENRY. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best Do, or undo, as if ourself were here. QUEEN MARGARET. What, will your highness leave the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019054 | parliament? KING HENRY. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drowned with grief, Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes, My body round engirt with misery; For whats 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 eer I proved thee | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019055 | false or feared thy faith. What louring 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 strains, Bearing it to the bloody slaughterhouse, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019056 | 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 naught but wail her darlings loss, Even so myself bewails good Gloucesters case With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimmed eyes Look after him, and cannot do him good, So mighty are | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019057 | his vowed enemies. His fortunes I will weep and twixt each groan Say Whos a traitor? Gloucester he is none. [_Exeunt all but Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk and York; Somerset remains apart._] QUEEN MARGARET. Free lords, cold snow melts with the suns hot beams. Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, Too full of foolish pity; and Gloucesters show | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019058 | Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile With sorrow snares relenting passengers, Or as the snake, rolled in a flowering bank, With shining checkered 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 Gloucester should be quickly rid the | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019059 | world, To rid us from the fear we have of him. CARDINAL. That he should die is worthy policy, But yet we want a colour for his death. Tis meet he be condemned by course of law. SUFFOLK. But, in my mind, that were no policy. The King will labour still to save his life, The commons haply rise to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019060 | 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. SUFFOLK. Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I! YORK. Tis York that hath more reason for his death. But, my Lord Cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk, Say | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019061 | 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 Kings Protector? QUEEN MARGARET. So the poor chicken should be sure of death. SUFFOLK. Madam, tis true; and were t not madness then To make the fox | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019062 | surveyor of the fold, Who being accused 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 proved an enemy to the flock, Before his chaps be stained with crimson blood, As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege. And do | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019063 | not stand on quillets how to slay him; Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety, Sleeping or waking, tis no matter how, So he be dead; for that is good deceit Which mates him first that first intends deceit. QUEEN MARGARET. Thrice-noble Suffolk, tis resolutely spoke. SUFFOLK. Not resolute, except so much were done, For things are often spoke | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019064 | 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. CARDINAL. But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk, Ere you can take due orders for a priest. Say you consent and censure well | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019065 | the deed, And Ill provide his executioner. I tender so the safety of my liege. SUFFOLK. Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing. QUEEN MARGARET. And so say I. YORK. And I. And now we three have spoke it, It skills not greatly who impugns our doom. Enter a Post. POST. Great lords, from Ireland am I come | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019066 | 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 uncurable; For, being green, there is great hope of help. CARDINAL. A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! What counsel give you in this weighty cause? YORK. That Somerset be sent | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019067 | as regent thither. Tis meet that lucky ruler be employed; Witness the fortune he hath had in France. SOMERSET. If York, with all his far-fet policy, Had been the regent there instead of me, He never would have stayed in France so long. YORK. No, not to lose it all as thou hast done. I rather would have lost my | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019068 | life betimes Than bring a burden of dishonour home By staying there so long till all were lost. Show me one scar charactered on thy skin; Mens flesh preserved so whole do seldom win. QUEEN MARGARET. Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with. No more, good York. Sweet | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019069 | Somerset, be still. Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, Might happily have proved far worse than his. YORK. What, worse than naught? Nay, then a shame take all! SOMERSET. And, in the number, thee that wishest shame! CARDINAL. My Lord of York, try what your fortune is. Th uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms And temper clay | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019070 | 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. SUFFOLK. Why, our authority is his consent, And what we do establish he confirms. Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand. YORK. I | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019071 | am content. Provide me soldiers, lords, Whiles I take order for mine own affairs. SUFFOLK. A charge, Lord York, that I will see performed. But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey. CARDINAL. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019072 | 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 Ill ship them all for Ireland. SUFFOLK. Ill 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019073 | resolution. Be that thou hopst to be, or what thou art Resign to death; it is not worth th enjoying. Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man And find no harbour in a royal heart. Faster than springtime showers comes thought on thought, And not a thought but thinks on dignity. My brain, more busy than the labouring spider | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019074 | 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, cherished in your breasts, will sting your hearts. Twas men I lacked, and you will give them me; I take it kindly, yet be well assured You put | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019075 | sharp weapons in a madmans 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 suns transparent beams, Do calm the fury of | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019076 | this mad-bred flaw. And for a minister of my intent, I have seduced 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 kerns, And fought so long till that his thighs with darts Were | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019077 | almost like a sharp-quilled porpentine; And in the end being rescued, I have seen Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells. Full often, like a shag-haired crafty kern, Hath he conversed with the enemy, And undiscovered come to me again And given me notice of their villainies. This devil here shall be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019078 | 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, racked, and tortured, I know no pain they can inflict upon him Will make him say I moved him to | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019079 | 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 sowed. For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, And Henry put apart, the next for me. [_Exit._] SCENE II. Bury St. Edmunds. A Room of State Enter two or three Murderers | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019080 | running over the stage, from the murder of Duke Humphrey. MURDERER. Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know We have dispatched the Duke as he commanded. MURDERER. O that it were to do! What have we done? Didst ever hear a man so penitent? Enter Suffolk. MURDERER. Here comes my lord. SUFFOLK. Now, sirs, have you dispatched this | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019081 | thing? MURDERER. Ay, my good lord, hes dead. SUFFOLK. Why, thats 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? Is all things well, According as I gave directions? MURDERER. Tis, my good lord. SUFFOLK. Away, be | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019082 | gone! [_Exeunt Murderers._] Sound trumpets. Enter the King, the Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Somerset with attendants. KING HENRY. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight; Say we intend to try his grace today If he be guilty, as tis published. SUFFOLK. Ill call him presently, my noble lord. [_Exit._] KING HENRY. Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019083 | Proceed no straiter gainst our uncle Gloucester Than from true evidence of good esteem He be approved in practice culpable. QUEEN MARGARET. God forbid any malice should prevail That faultless may condemn a nobleman! Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion! KING HENRY. I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much. Enter Suffolk. How now? Why lookst thou | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019084 | pale? Why tremblest thou? Where is our uncle? Whats the matter, Suffolk? SUFFOLK. Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead. QUEEN MARGARET. Marry, God forfend! CARDINAL. Gods secret judgment! I did dream tonight The Duke was dumb and could not speak a word. [_The King swoons._] QUEEN MARGARET. How fares my lord? Help, lords! the King is dead. | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019085 | SOMERSET. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose. QUEEN MARGARET. Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes! SUFFOLK. He doth revive again. Madam, be patient. KING HENRY. O heavenly God! QUEEN MARGARET. How fares my gracious lord? SUFFOLK. Comfort, my sovereign! Gracious Henry, comfort! KING HENRY. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019086 | right now to sing a ravens 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 sugared words; Lay not thy hands on me. Forbear, I say! Their touch affrights me as a serpents | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019087 | sting. Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight! Upon thy eyeballs murderous 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, | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019088 | now Gloucesters dead. QUEEN MARGARET. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019089 | 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 judged I made the Duke away; So shall my name with slanders tongue be wounded And princes courts be filled with my reproach. This get | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019090 | I by his death. Ay me, unhappy! To be a queen, and crowned with infamy! KING HENRY. Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man! QUEEN MARGARET. 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019091 | deaf? Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn Queen. Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucesters tomb? Why, then, Dame Margaret was neer thy joy. Erect his statue and worship it, And make my image but an alehouse sign. Was I for this nigh wracked upon the sea And twice by awkward wind from Englands bank Drove back again unto | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019092 | my native clime? What boded this, but well forewarning wind Did seem to say Seek not a scorpions nest, Nor set no footing on this unkind shore? What did I then, but cursed the gentle gusts And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves And bid them blow towards Englands blessed shore Or turn our stern upon a dreadful | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019093 | rock? Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer, But left that hateful office unto thee. The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me, Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on shore With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness. The splitting rocks cowered in the sinking sands And would not dash me with their ragged sides, Because thy flinty | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019094 | heart, more hard than they, Might in thy palace perish Margaret. As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs, When from thy 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 lands view, I took a costly jewel from my neck | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019095 | A heart it was, bound in with diamonds And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it, And so I wished thy body might my heart. And even with this I lost fair Englands view, And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart, And called them blind and dusky spectacles, For losing ken of Albions wished coast. How | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019096 | often have I tempted Suffolks tongue, The agent of thy foul inconstancy, To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did When he to madding Dido would unfold His fathers acts commenced in burning Troy! Am I not witched like her? Or thou not false like him? Ay me, I can no more! Die, Margaret, For Henry weeps that thou dost | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019097 | live so long. Noise within. Enter Warwick, Salisbury and many Commons. WARWICK. It is reported, mighty sovereign, That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murdered By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beauforts 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 calmed their | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019098 | spleenful mutiny, Until they hear the order of his death. KING HENRY. That he is dead, good Warwick, tis too true; But how he died God knows, not Henry. Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, And comment then upon his sudden death. WARWICK. That shall I do, my liege.Stay, Salisbury, With the rude multitude till I return. [_Warwick exits | 60 | gutenberg |
twg_000000019099 | through one door; Salisbury and Commons exit through another._] KING HENRY. O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts, My thoughts that labour to persuade my soul Some violent hands were laid on Humphreys 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 | 60 | gutenberg |
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