Henry VI Part 2/Source

DRAMATIS PERSONAE (Persons Represented):


 * KING HENRY THE SIXTH.
 * HUMPHREY, Duke of Gloster, his uncle.
 * CARDINAL BEAUFORT, Bishop of Winchester,
 * great-uncle to the King.
 * RICHARD PLANTAGENET, Duke of York.
 * EDWARD and RICHARD, his sons.
 * DUKE OF SOMERSET.
 * DUKE OF SUFFOLK.
 * DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM.
 * LORD CLIFFORD.
 * YOUNG CLIFFORD, his son.
 * EARL OF SALISBURY.
 * EARL OF WARWICK.


 * LORD SCALES.
 * LORD SAY.
 * SIR HUMPHREY STAFFORD, and WILLIAM
 * STAFFORD, his brother.
 * SIR JOHN STANLEY.
 * VAUX.
 * MATTHEW GOFFE.
 * A Sea-Captain, Master, and Master's-Mate, and WALTER WHITMORE.
 * Two Gentlemen, prisoners with Suffolk.
 * JOHN HUME and JOHN SOUTHWELL, priests.
 * ROGER BOLINGBROKE, a conjurer.
 * THOMAS HORNER, an armourer. PETER, his man.
 * Clerk of Chatham. Mayor of Saint Albans.
 * SIMPCOX, an impostor.
 * ALEXANDER IDEN, a Kentish gentleman.
 * JACK CADE, a rebel.
 * GEORGE BEVIS, JOHN HOLLAND, DICK the butcher,
 * SMITH the weaver, MICHAEL, etc., followers of Cade.
 * Two Murderers.


 * MARGARET, Queen to King Henry.
 * ELEANOR, Duchess of Gloster.
 * MARGARET JOURDAIN, a witch.
 * Wife to Simpcox.


 * Lords, Ladies, and Attendants, Petitioners, Aldermen, a Herald, a Beadle, Sheriff, and Officers, Citizens, Prentices, Falconers, Guards, Soldiers, Messengers, &c.


 * A Spirit.

SCENE: England.

SCENE I. London. The palace
[Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter the KING, GLOSTER, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and CARDINAL BEAUFORT, on the one side; the QUEEN, SUFFOLK, YORK, SOMERSET, and BUCKINGHAM, on the other.]

SUFFOLK.
 * As by your high imperial Majesty
 * I had in charge at my depart for France,
 * As procurator to your excellence,
 * To marry Princess Margaret for your grace,
 * So, in the famous ancient city Tours,
 * In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil,
 * The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne, and Alencon,
 * Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend bishops,
 * I have perform'd my task and was espous'd,
 * And humbly now upon my bended knee,
 * In sight of England and her lordly peers,
 * Deliver up my title in the queen
 * To your most gracious hands, that are the substance
 * Of that great shadow I did represent:
 * The happiest gift that ever marquess gave,
 * The fairest queen that ever king receiv'd.

KING.
 * Suffolk, arise.—Welcome, Queen Margaret.
 * I can express no kinder sign of love
 * Than this kind kiss.—O Lord, that lends me life,
 * Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness!
 * For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
 * A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
 * If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.

QUEEN.
 * Great King of England and my gracious lord,
 * The mutual conference that my mind hath had,
 * By day, by night, waking and in my dreams,
 * In courtly company or at my beads,
 * With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign,
 * Makes me the bolder to salute my king
 * With ruder terms, such as my wit affords
 * And over-joy of heart doth minister.

KING.
 * Her sight did ravish, but her grace in speech,
 * Her words yclad with wisdom's majesty,
 * Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys;
 * Such is the fulness of my heart's content.—
 * Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love.

ALL.
 * [Kneeling] Long live Queen Margaret, England's
 * happiness!

QUEEN.
 * We thank you all.

[Flourish.]

SUFFOLK.
 * My Lord Protector, so it please your grace,
 * Here are the articles of contracted peace
 * Between our sovereign and the French king Charles,
 * For eighteen months concluded by consent.

GLOSTER.
 * [Reads] 'Imprimis, It is agreed between the French king
 * Charles and William de la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador
 * for Henry King of England, that the said Henry shall espouse the
 * Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia,
 * and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the thirtieth
 * of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy of Anjou and the
 * county of Maine shall be released and delivered to the king her
 * father'—

[Lets the paper fall.]

KING.
 * Uncle, how now!

GLOSTER.
 * Pardon me, gracious lord;
 * Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart
 * And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further.

KING.
 * Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on.

CARDINAL.
 * [Reads] 'Item, It is further agreed between them,
 * that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be released and
 * delivered over to the king her father, and she sent over of the
 * King of
 * England's own proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.'

KING.
 * They please us well.—Lord marquess, kneel down.
 * We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk,
 * And girt thee with the sword.—Cousin of York,
 * We here discharge your grace from being regent
 * I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months
 * Be full expir'd.—Thanks, uncle Winchester,
 * Gloster, York, Buckingham, Somerset,
 * Salisbury, and Warwick;
 * We thank you all for this great favour done
 * In entertainment to my princely queen.
 * Come, let us in, and with all speed provide
 * To see her coronation be perform'd.

[Exeunt King, Queen, and Suffolk.]

GLOSTER.
 * Brave peers of England, pillars of the state,
 * To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief,
 * Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
 * What! did my brother Henry spend his youth,
 * His valour, coin, and people, in the wars?
 * Did he so often lodge in open field,
 * In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
 * To conquer France, his true inheritance?
 * And did my brother Bedford toil his wits
 * To keep by policy what Henry got?
 * Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham,
 * Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,
 * Receiv'd deep scars in France and Normandy?
 * Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself,
 * With all the learned counsel of the realm,
 * Studied so long, sat in the council-house
 * Early and late, debating to and fro
 * How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe,
 * And had his highness in his infancy
 * Crowned in Paris in despite of foes?
 * And shall these labours and these honours die?
 * Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
 * Your deeds of war, and all our counsel die?
 * O peers of England, shameful is this league!
 * Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame,
 * Blotting your names from books of memory,
 * Razing the characters of your renown,
 * Defacing monuments of conquer'd France,
 * Undoing all, as all had never been!

CARDINAL.
 * Nephew, what means this passionate discourse,
 * This peroration with such circumstance?
 * For France, 't is ours; and we will keep it still.

GLOSTER.
 * Ay, uncle, we will keep it if we can,
 * But now it is impossible we should.
 * Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast,
 * Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine
 * Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style
 * Agrees not with the leanness of his purse.

SALISBURY.
 * Now, by the death of Him that died for all,
 * These counties were the keys of Normandy!—
 * But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son?

WARWICK.
 * For grief that they are past recovery;
 * For, were there hope to conquer them again,
 * My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears.
 * Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both,
 * Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer;
 * And are the cities that I got with wounds
 * Deliver'd up again with peaceful words?
 * Mort Dieu!

YORK.
 * For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate,
 * That dims the honour of this warlike isle!
 * France should have torn and rent my very heart,
 * Before I would have yielded to this league.
 * I never read but England's kings have had
 * Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives;
 * And our King Henry gives away his own,
 * To match with her that brings no vantages.

GLOSTER.
 * A proper jest, and never heard before,
 * That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth
 * For costs and charges in transporting her!
 * She should have staid in France, and starv'd in France,
 * Before—

CARDINAL.
 * My Lord of Gloster, now ye grow too hot;
 * It was the pleasure of my lord the King.

GLOSTER.
 * My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind;
 * 'T is not my speeches that you do mislike,
 * But 't is my presence that doth trouble ye.
 * Rancour will out.
 * Proud prelate, in thy face
 * I see thy fury; if I longer stay,
 * We shall begin our ancient bickerings.—
 * Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone,
 * I prophesied France will be lost ere long.

[Exit.]

CARDINAL.
 * So, there goes our protector in a rage.
 * 'T is known to you he is mine enemy,
 * Nay, more, an enemy unto you all,
 * And no great friend, I fear me, to the king.
 * Consider, lords, he is the next of blood,
 * And heir apparent to the English crown.
 * Had Henry got an empire by his marriage,
 * And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west,
 * There's reason he should be displeas'd at it.
 * Look to it, lords.
 * Let not his smoothing words
 * Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect.
 * What though the common people favour him,
 * Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of Gloster,'
 * Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice,
 * 'Jesu maintain your royal excellence!'
 * With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!'
 * I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
 * He will be found a dangerous protector.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Why should he, then, protect our sovereign,
 * He being of age to govern of himself?—
 * Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
 * And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk,
 * We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat.

CARDINAL.
 * This weighty business will not brook delay;
 * I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently.

[Exit.]

SOMERSET.
 * Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride
 * And greatness of his place be grief to us,
 * Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal;
 * His insolence is more intolerable
 * Than all the princes in the land beside;
 * If Gloster be displac'd, he 'll be protector.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector,
 * Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal.

[Exeunt Buckingham and Somerset.]

SALISBURY.
 * Pride went before, ambition follows him.
 * While these do labour for their own preferment,
 * Behoves it us to labour for the realm.
 * I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloster
 * Did bear him like a noble gentleman.
 * Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal,
 * More like a soldier than a man o' the church,
 * As stout and proud as he were lord of all,
 * Swear like a ruffian and demean himself
 * Unlike the ruler of a commonweal.—
 * Warwick my son, the comfort of my age,
 * Thy deeds, thy plainness, and thy housekeeping,
 * Hath won the greatest favour of the commons,
 * Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey;—
 * And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland,
 * In bringing them to civil discipline,
 * Thy late exploits done in the heart of France,
 * When thou wert regent for our sovereign,
 * Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people.—
 * Join we together, for the public good,
 * In what we can, to bridle and suppress
 * The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal,
 * With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition,
 * And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds
 * While they do tend the profit of the land.

WARWICK.
 * So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
 * And common profit of his country!

YORK.
 * [Aside.] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause.

SALISBURY.
 * Then let's make haste away, and look unto the main.

WARWICK.
 * Unto the main! O father, Maine is lost;
 * That Maine which by main force Warwick did win,
 * And would have kept so long as breath did last!
 * Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine,
 * Which I will win from France, or else be slain.

[Exeunt Warwick and Salisbury.]

YORK.
 * Anjou and Maine are given to the French;
 * Paris is lost; the state of Normandy
 * Stands on a tickle point now they are gone.
 * Suffolk concluded on the articles,
 * The peers agreed; and Henry was well pleas'd
 * To changes two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter.
 * I cannot blame them all: what is't to them?
 * 'T is thine they give away, and not their own.
 * Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage,
 * And purchase friends, and give to courtesans,
 * Still revelling like lords till all be gone;
 * Whileas the silly owner of the goods
 * Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands
 * And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof,
 * While all is shar'd and all is borne away,
 * Ready to starve and dare not touch his own.
 * So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue,
 * While his own lands are bargain'd for and sold.
 * Methinks the realms of England, France, and Ireland
 * Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood
 * As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd
 * Unto the prince's heart of Calydon.
 * Anjou and Maine both given unto the French!
 * Cold news for me, for I had hope of France,
 * Even as I have of fertile England's soil.
 * A day will come when York shall claim his own;
 * And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts,
 * And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey,
 * And when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
 * For that 's the golden mark I seek to hit.
 * Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
 * Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist,
 * Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
 * Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown.
 * Then, York, be still awhile till time do serve;
 * Watch thou and wake when others be asleep,
 * To pry into the secrets of the state;
 * Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love,
 * With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen,
 * And Humphrey with the peers be fallen at jars.
 * Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
 * With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfum'd,
 * And in my standard bear the arms of York,
 * To grapple with the house of Lancaster;
 * And, force perforce, I 'll make him yield the crown
 * Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.

[Exit.]

SCENE II. The Duke of Gloster's House.
[Enter DUKE HUMPHREY and his wife ELEANOR]

DUCHESS.
 * Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn,
 * Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?
 * Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,
 * As frowning at the favours of the world?
 * Why are thine eyes fix'd to the sullen earth,
 * Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight?
 * What see'st thou there? King Henry's diadem,
 * Enchas'd with all the honours of the world?
 * If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face,
 * Until thy head be circled with the same.
 * Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
 * What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine,
 * And, having both together heav'd it up,
 * We'll both together lift our heads to heaven,
 * And never more abase our sight so low
 * As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.

GLOSTER.
 * O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
 * Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts;
 * And may that thought when I imagine ill
 * Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,
 * Be my last breathing in this mortal world!
 * My troublous dreams this night doth make me sad.

DUCHESS.
 * What dream'd my lord? Tell me, and I'll requite it
 * With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.

GLOSTER.
 * Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court,
 * Was broke in twain;—by whom I have forgot,
 * But, as I think, it was by the cardinal,—
 * And on the pieces of the broken wand
 * Were plac'd the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset
 * And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk.
 * This was my dream; what it doth bode, God knows.

DUCHESS.
 * Tut, this was nothing but an argument
 * That he that breaks a stick of Gloster's grove
 * Shall lose his head for his presumption.
 * But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke:
 * Methought I sat in seat of majesty
 * In the cathedral church of Westminster
 * And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd,
 * Where Henry and Dame Margaret kneel'd to me
 * And on my head did set the diadem.

GLOSTER.
 * Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright.
 * Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtur'd Eleanor,
 * Art thou not second woman in the realm,
 * And the protector's wife, belov'd of him?
 * Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command,
 * Above the reach or compass of thy thought?
 * And wilt thou still be hammering treachery,
 * To tumble down thy husband and thyself
 * From top of honour to disgrace's feet?
 * Away from me, and let me hear no more!

DUCHESS.
 * What, what, my lord! are you so choleric
 * With Eleanor for telling but her dream?
 * Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself,
 * And not be check'd.

GLOSTER.
 * Nay, be not angry; I am pleas'd again.

[Enter Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * My lord protector, 't is his highness' pleasure
 * You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's,
 * Whereas the king and queen do mean to hawk.

GLOSTER.
 * I go.—Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?

DUCHESS.
 * Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.

[Exeunt Gloster and Messenger.]


 * Follow I must; I cannot go before
 * While Gloster bears this base and humble mind.
 * Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood,
 * I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks
 * And smooth my way upon their headless necks;
 * And, being a woman, I will not be slack
 * To play my part in Fortune's pageant.—
 * Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man,
 * We are alone; here's none but thee and I.

[Enter HUME.]

HUME.
 * Jesus preserve your royal majesty!

DUCHESS.
 * What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace.

HUME.
 * But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice,
 * Your grace's title shall be multiplied.

DUCHESS.
 * What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd
 * With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch,
 * With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer?
 * And will they undertake to do me good?

HUME.
 * This they have promised,—to show your highness
 * A spirit rais'd from depth of underground,
 * That shall make answer to such questions
 * As by your Grace shall be propounded him.

DUCHESS.
 * It is enough; I'll think upon the questions.
 * When from Saint Alban's we do make return,
 * We'll see these things effected to the full.
 * Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man,
 * With thy confederates in this weighty cause.

[Exit.]

HUME.
 * Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold,
 * Marry, and shall. But, how now, Sir John Hume!
 * Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum;
 * The business asketh silent secrecy.
 * Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch;
 * Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil.
 * Yet have I gold flies from another coast.
 * I dare not say, from the rich cardinal
 * And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk,
 * Yet I do find it so; for, to be plain,
 * They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
 * Have hired me to undermine the duchess
 * And buzz these conjurations in her brain.
 * They say ' A crafty knave does need no broker;'
 * Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker.
 * Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near
 * To call them both a pair of crafty knaves.
 * Well, so its stands; and thus, I fear, at last
 * Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wrack,
 * And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall.
 * Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.

[Exit.]

SCENE III. London. The palace.
[Enter PETER and other PETITIONERS.]

1 PETITIONER.
 * My masters, let's stand close; my lord protector
 * will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our
 * supplications in the quill.

2 PETITIONER.
 * Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good
 * man! Jesu bless him!

[Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN.]

PETER.
 * Here 'a comes, methinks, and the queen with him.
 * I'll be the first, sure.

2 PETITIONER.
 * Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk and
 * not my lord protector.

SUFFOLK.
 * How now, fellow! wouldst any thing with me?

1 PETITIONER.
 * I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord
 * protector.

QUEEN.
 * [Reading] 'To my Lord Protector!' Are your supplications
 * to his lordship? Let me see them; what is thine?

1 PETITIONER.
 * Mine is, an 't please your grace, against John
 * Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my house and lands,
 * and wife and all, from me.

SUFFOLK.
 * Thy wife too! that's some wrong, indeed.—What's
 * yours?—What's here! [Reads] 'Against the Duke of Suffolk for
 * enclosing
 * the commons of Melford.'—How now, sir knave!

2 PETITIONER.
 * Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our
 * whole township.

PETER.
 * [Giving his petition] Against my master, Thomas Horner,
 * for saying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.

QUEEN.
 * What say'st thou? did the Duke of York say he was
 * rightful heir to the crown?

PETER.
 * That my master was? no, forsooth; my master said that he
 * was, and that the king was an usurper.

SUFFOLK.
 * Who is there? [Enter Servant.] Take this fellow in, and
 * send for his master with a pursuivant presently.—We'll hear more
 * of your matter before the king.

[Exit Servant with Peter.]

QUEEN.
 * And as for you, that love to be protected
 * Under the wings of our protector's grace,
 * Begin your suits anew and sue to him.

[Tears the supplications.]


 * Away, base cullions!—Suffolk, let them go.

ALL.
 * Come, let's be gone.

[Exeunt.]

QUEEN.
 * My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise,
 * Is this the fashion in the court of England?
 * Is this the government of Britain's isle,
 * And this the royalty of Albion's king?
 * What, shall King Henry be a pupil still
 * Under the surly Gloster's governance?
 * Am I a queen in title and in style,
 * And must be made a subject to a duke?
 * I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours
 * Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love
 * And stol'st away the ladies' hearts of France,
 * I thought King Henry had resembled thee
 * In courage, courtship, and proportion;
 * But all his mind is bent to holiness,
 * To number Ave-Maries on his beads,
 * His champions are the prophets and apostles,
 * His weapons holy saws of sacred writ,
 * His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves
 * Are brazen images of canoniz'd saints.
 * I would the college of the cardinals
 * Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome,
 * And set the triple crown upon his head;
 * That were a state fit for his holiness.

SUFFOLK.
 * Madam, be patient; as I was cause
 * Your highness came to England, so will I
 * In England work your grace's full content.

QUEEN.
 * Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort
 * The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham,
 * And grumbling York; and not the least of these
 * But can do more in England than the king.

SUFFOLK.
 * And he of these that can do most of all
 * Cannot do more in England than the Nevils;
 * Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers.

QUEEN.
 * Not all these lords do vex me half so much
 * As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife.
 * She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies,
 * More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife.
 * Strangers in court do take her for the queen;
 * She bears a duke's revenues on her back,
 * And in her heart she scorns our poverty.
 * Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her?
 * Contemptuous base-born callat as she is,
 * She vaunted 'mongst her minions t' other day,
 * The very train of her worst wearing gown
 * Was better worth than all my father's land
 * Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.

SUFFOLK.
 * Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her,
 * And plac'd a quire of such enticing birds
 * That she will light to listen to the lays,
 * And never mount to trouble you again.
 * So, let her rest; and, madam, list to me,
 * For I am bold to counsel you in this.
 * Although we fancy not the cardinal,
 * Yet must we join with him and with the lords
 * Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace.
 * As for the Duke of York, this late complaint
 * Will make but little for his benefit.
 * So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last,
 * And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.

[Sennet. Enter the KING, DUKE HUMPHREY, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, BUCKINGHAM, YORK, SOMERSET, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER.]

KING.
 * For my part, noble lords, I care not which;
 * Or Somerset or York, all's one to me.

YORK.
 * If York have ill demean'd himself in France,
 * Then let him be denay'd the regentship.

SOMERSET.
 * If Somerset be unworthy of the place,
 * Let York be regent; I will yield to him.

WARWICK.
 * Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no,
 * Dispute not that; York is the worthier.

CARDINAL.
 * Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.

WARWICK.
 * The cardinal's not my better in the field.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick.

WARWICK.
 * Warwick may live to be the best of all.

SALISBURY.
 * Peace, son!—and show some reason, Buckingham,
 * Why Somerset should be preferr'd in this.

QUEEN.
 * Because the king, forsooth, will have it so.

GLOSTER.
 * Madam, the King is old enough himself
 * To give his censure; these are no women's matters.

QUEEN.
 * If he be old enough, what needs your grace
 * To be protector of his excellence?

GLOSTER.
 * Madam, I am protector of the realm,
 * And, at his pleasure, will resign my place.

SUFFOLK.
 * Resign it then, and leave thine insolence.
 * Since thou wert king—as who is king but thou?—
 * The commonwealth hath daily run to wrack;
 * The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas;
 * And all the peers and nobles of the realm
 * Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty.

CARDINAL.
 * The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags
 * Are lank and lean with thy extortions.

SOMERSET.
 * Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire
 * Have cost a mass of public treasury.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Thy cruelty in execution
 * Upon offenders hath exceeded law,
 * And left thee to the mercy of the law.

QUEEN.
 * Thy sale of offices and towns in France,
 * If they were known, as the suspect is great,
 * Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.—

[Exit Gloster. The Queen drops her fan..]


 * Give me my fan. What minion! can ye not?

[She gives the Duchess a box on the ear.]


 * I cry your mercy, madam; was it you?

DUCHESS.
 * Was 't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman.
 * Could I come near your beauty with my nails,
 * I'd set my ten commandments in your face.

KING.
 * Sweet aunt, be quiet; 't was against her will.

DUCHESS.
 * Against her will! good king, look to 't in time;
 * She'll hamper thee and dandle thee like a baby.
 * Though in this place most master wear no breeches,
 * She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unreveng'd.

[Exit.]

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Lord cardinal, I will follow Eleanor,
 * And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds.
 * She's tickled now; her fume needs no spurs,
 * She'll gallop far enough to her destruction.

[Exit.]

[Re-enter GLOSTER.]

GLOSTER.
 * Now, lords, my choler being overblown
 * With walking once about the quadrangle,
 * I come to talk of commonwealth affairs.
 * As for your spiteful false objections,
 * Prove them, and I lie open to the law;
 * But God in mercy so deal with my soul
 * As I in duty love my king and country!
 * But, to the matter that we have in hand:
 * I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man
 * To be your regent in the realm of France.

SUFFOLK.
 * Before we make election, give me leave
 * To show some reason, of no little force,
 * That York is most unmeet of any man.

YORK.
 * I'll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet:
 * First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride;
 * Next, if I be appointed for the place,
 * My Lord of Somerset will keep me here,
 * Without discharge, money, or furniture,
 * Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands.
 * Last time, I danc'd attendance on his will
 * Till Paris was besieg'd, famish'd, and lost.

WARWICK.
 * That can I witness; and a fouler fact
 * Did never traitor in the land commit.

SUFFOLK.
 * Peace, headstrong Warwick!

WARWICK.
 * Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?

[Enter HORNER and his man PETER, guarded.]

SUFFOLK.
 * Because here is a man accus'd of treason.
 * Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself!

YORK.
 * Doth any one accuse York for a traitor?

KING.
 * What mean'st thou, Suffolk? tell me, what are these?

SUFFOLK.
 * Please it your majesty, this is the man
 * That doth accuse his master of high treason.
 * His words were these: that Richard Duke of York
 * Was rightful heir unto the English crown,
 * And that your majesty was an usurper.

KING.
 * Say, man, were these thy words?

HORNER.
 * An 't shall please your majesty, I never said nor
 * thought any such matter; God is my witness, I am
 * falsely accused by the villain.

PETER.
 * By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to
 * me in the garret one night, as we were scouring my Lord of
 * York's armour.

YORK.
 * Base dunghill villain and mechanical,
 * I'll have thy head for this thy traitor's speech.—
 * I do beseech your royal majesty,
 * Let him have all the rigour of the law.

HORNER.
 * Alas, my lord, hang me if ever I spake the words. My
 * accuser is my prentice; and when I did correct him for his fault
 * the other day, he did vow upon his knees he would be even with
 * me. I have good witness of this; therefore I beseech your
 * majesty, do not cast away an honest man for a villain's
 * accusation.

KING.
 * Uncle, what shall we say to this in law?

GLOSTER.
 * This doom, my lord, if I may judge:
 * Let Somerset be Regent o'er the French,
 * Because in York this breeds suspicion;
 * And let these have a day appointed them
 * For single combat in convenient place,
 * For he hath witness of his servant's malice.
 * This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom.

SOMERSET.
 * I humbly thank your royal Majesty.

HORNER.
 * And I accept the combat willingly.

PETER.
 * Alas, my lord, I cannot fight; for God's sake, pity my case.
 * The spite of man prevaileth against me. O Lord, have mercy
 * upon me! I shall never be able to fight a blow! O Lord, my heart!

GLOSTER.
 * Sirrah, or you must fight or else be hang'd.

KING.
 * Away with them to prison; and the day of combat shall
 * be the last of the next month.—Come, Somerset, we'll see thee
 * sent away.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. Gloster's Garden
[Enter MARGERY JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE.]

HUME.
 * Come, my masters; the duchess, I tell you, expects
 * performance of your promises.

BOLINGBROKE.
 * Master Hume, we are therefore provided;
 * will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms?

HUME.
 * Ay, what else? fear you not her courage.

BOLINGBROKE.
 * I have heard her reported to be a woman of an invincible spirit:
 * but it shall be convenient, Master Hume, that you be by her
 * aloft while we be busy below; and so, I pray you go, in God's
 * name, and leave us.—[Exit Hume.] Mother Jourdain, be you
 * prostrate and grovel on the earth.—John Southwell, read you; and
 * let us to our work.

[Enter DUCHESS aloft, HUME following.]

DUCHESS.
 * Well said, my masters; and welcome all. To this gear
 * the sooner the better.

BOLINGBROKE.
 * Patience, good lady, wizards know their times:
 * Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night,
 * The time of night when Troy was set on fire,
 * The time when screech-owls cry and ban-dogs howl
 * And spirits walk and ghosts break up their graves,
 * That time best fits the work we have in hand.
 * Madam, sit you and fear not; whom we raise,
 * We will make fast within a hallow'd verge.

[Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make the circle; Bolingbroke or Southwell reads, Conjuro te, etc. It thunders and lightens terribly; then the Spirit riseth.]

SPIRIT.
 * Adsum.

M. JOURDAIN.
 * Asmath,
 * By the eternal God, whose name and power
 * Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask;
 * For till thou speak thou shalt not pass from hence.

SPIRIT.
 * Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done!

BOLINGBROKE.
 * [Reads] 'First of the king: what shall
 * of him become?'


 * SPIRIT.
 * The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose,
 * But him outlive and die a violent death.

[As the Spirit speaks, Southwell writes the answer.]

BOLINGBROKE.
 * 'What fates await the Duke of Suffolk?'

SPIRIT.
 * By water shall he die and take his end.

BOLINGBROKE.
 * [Reads] 'What shall befall the Duke of Somerset?'

SPIRIT.
 * Let him shun castles;
 * Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
 * Than where castles mounted stand.
 * Have done, for more I hardly can endure.

BOLINGBROKE.
 * Descend to darkness and the burning lake!
 * False fiend, avoid!

[Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit.]

[Enter the DUKE OF YORK and the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM with their Guard and break in YORK.]


 * Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash.—
 * Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch.
 * What, madam, are you there? the king and commonweal
 * Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains;
 * My lord protector will, I doubt it not,
 * See you well guerdon'd for these good deserts.

DUCHESS.
 * Not half so bad as thine to England's king,
 * Injurious duke, that threatest where's no cause.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * True, madam, none at all; what call you this?—
 * Away with them! let them be clapp'd up close,
 * And kept asunder.—You, madam, shall with us.—
 * Stafford, take her to thee.—

[Exeunt above, Duchess and Hume, guarded.]


 * We'll see your trinkets here all forthcoming.—
 * All, away!

[Exeunt guard with Jourdain, Southwell, etc.]

YORK.
 * Lord Buckingham, methinks you watch'd her well;
 * A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon!
 * Now, pray, my lord, let's see the devil's writ.
 * What have we here?
 * [Reads] 'The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose.
 * But him outlive and die a violent death.'
 * Why, this is just
 * 'Aio te, Aeacida, Romanos vincere posse.'
 * Well, to the rest:
 * 'Tell me what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk?
 * By water shall he die and take his end.
 * What shall betide the Duke of Somerset?
 * Let him shun castles;
 * Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains
 * Than where castles mounted stand.'—
 * Come, come, my lords;
 * These oracles are hardly attain'd,
 * And hardly understood.
 * The king is now in progress towards Saint Alban's,
 * With him the husband of this lovely lady.
 * Thither go these news, as fast as horse can carry them;
 * A sorry breakfast for my lord protector.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Your Grace shall give me leave, my
 * Lord of York,
 * To be the post, in hope of his reward.

YORK.
 * At your pleasure, my good lord.—
 * Who's within there, ho!

[Enter a Servingman.]


 * Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick
 * To sup with me to-morrow night. Away!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. Saint Alban's.
[Enter the KING, QUEEN, GLOSTER, CARDINAL, and SUFFOLK, with FALCONERS halloing.]

QUEEN.
 * Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook,
 * I saw not better sport these seven years' day;
 * Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high,
 * And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out.

KING.
 * But what a point, my lord, your falcon made,
 * And what a pitch she flew above the rest!
 * To see how God in all His creatures works!
 * Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high.

SUFFOLK.
 * No marvel, an it like your majesty,
 * My lord protector's hawks do tower so well;
 * They know their master loves to be aloft,
 * And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch.

GLOSTER.
 * My lord, 't is but a base ignoble mind
 * That mounts no higher than a bird can soar.

CARDINAL.
 * I thought as much; he would be above the clouds.

GLOSTER.
 * Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that?
 * Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven?

KING.
 * The treasury of everlasting joy.

CARDINAL.
 * Thy heaven is on earth; thine eyes and thoughts
 * Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart,
 * Pernicious protector, dangerous peer,
 * That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal.

GLOSTER.
 * What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown peremptory?
 * Tantaene animis coelestibus irae?
 * Churchmen so hot? good uncle, hide such malice;
 * With such holiness can you do it?

SUFFOLK.
 * No malice, sir; no more than well becomes
 * So good a quarrel and so bad a peer.

GLOSTER.
 * As who, my lord?

SUFFOLK.
 * Why, as you, my lord,
 * An 't like your lordly lord-protectorship.

GLOSTER.
 * Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence.

QUEEN.
 * And thy ambition, Gloster.

KING.
 * I prithee, peace, good queen,
 * And whet not on these furious peers;
 * For blessed are the peacemakers on earth.

CARDINAL.
 * Let me be blessed for the peace I make
 * Against this proud protector, with my sword!

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Cardinal.] Faith, holy uncle, would 't
 * were come to that!

CARDINAL.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] Marry, when thou dar'st.

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to Cardinal.] Make up no factious numbers
 * for the matter;
 * In thine own person answer thy abuse.

CARDINAL.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] Ay, where thou dar'st not peep;
 * an if thou dar'st,
 * This evening, on the east side of the grove.

KING.
 * How now, my lords!

CARDINAL.
 * Believe me, cousin Gloster,
 * Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly,
 * We had had more sport.—[Aside to Gloster.] Come with thy
 * two-hand sword.

GLOSTER.
 * True, uncle.

CARDINAL.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] Are ye advis'd? the east side
 * of the grove?

GLOSTER.
 * [Aside to CARDINAL.] Cardinal, I am with you.

KING.
 * Why, how now, uncle Gloster!

GLOSTER.
 * Talking of hawking; nothing else, my lord.—
 * [Aside to Cardinal.] Now, by God's mother, priest,
 * I'll shave your crown for this,
 * Or all my fence shall fail.

CARDINAL.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] Medice, teipsum—
 * Protector, see to 't well, protect yourself.

KING.
 * The winds grow high; so do your stomachs, lords.
 * How irksome is this music to my heart!
 * When such strings jar, what hope of harmony?
 * I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife.

[Enter a Townsman of Saint Alban's, crying 'A miracle!']

GLOSTER.
 * What means this noise?
 * Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim?

TOWNSMAN.
 * A miracle! A miracle!

SUFFOLK.
 * Come to the king, and tell him what miracle.

TOWNSMAN.
 * Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine,
 * Within this half hour, hath receiv'd his sight;
 * A man that ne'er saw in his life before.

KING.
 * Now, God be prais'd, that to believing souls
 * Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair!

[Enter the Mayor of Saint Alban's and his brethren, bearing SIMPCOX, between two in a chair, SIMPCOX's Wife following.]

CARDINAL.
 * Here comes the townsmen on procession,
 * To present your highness with the man.

KING HENRY.
 * Great is his comfort in this earthly vale,
 * Although by his sight his sin be multiplied.

GLOSTER.
 * Stand by, my masters.
 * Bring him near the king;
 * His highness' pleasure is to talk with him.

KING.
 * Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance,
 * That we for thee may glorify the Lord.
 * What, hast thou been long blind and now restor'd?

SIMPCOX.
 * Born blind, an 't please your grace.

WIFE.
 * Ay indeed was he.

SUFFOLK.
 * What woman is this?

WIFE.
 * His wife, an 't like your worship.

GLOSTER.
 * Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst
 * have better told.

KING.
 * Where wert thou born?

SIMPCOX.
 * At Berwick in the north, an 't like your grace.

KING.
 * Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee;
 * Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass,
 * But still remember what the Lord hath done.

QUEEN.
 * Tell me, good fellow, cam'st thou here by chance,
 * Or of devotion, to this holy shrine?

SIMPCOX.
 * God knows, of pure devotion; being call'd
 * A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep,
 * By good Saint Alban, who said 'Simpcox, come,
 * Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.'

WIFE.
 * Most true, forsooth; and many time and oft
 * Myself have heard a voice to call him so.

CARDINAL.
 * What, art thou lame?

SIMPCOX.
 * Ay, God Almighty help me!

SUFFOLK.
 * How cam'st thou so?

SIMPCOX.
 * A fall off of a tree.

WIFE.
 * A plum-tree, master.

GLOSTER.
 * How long hast thou been blind?

SIMPCOX.
 * O, born so, master!

GLOSTER.
 * What, and wouldst climb a tree?

SIMPCOX.
 * But that in all my life, when I was a youth.

WIFE.
 * Too true; and bought his climbing very dear.

GLOSTER.
 * Mass, thou lov'dst plums well that wouldst venture so.

SIMPCOX.
 * Alas, good master, my wife desir'd some damsons,
 * And made me climb, with danger of my life.

GLOSTER.
 * A subtle knave! but yet it shall not serve.—
 * Let me see thine eyes.—Wink now;—now open them.
 * In my opinion yet thou seest not well.

SIMPCOX.
 * Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and Saint Alban.

GLOSTER.
 * Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of?

SIMPCOX.
 * Red, master, red as blood.

GLOSTER.
 * Why, that's well said. What colour is my gown of?

SIMPCOX.
 * Black, forsooth, coal-black as jet.

KING.
 * Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of?

SUFFOLK.
 * And yet, I think, jet did he never see.

GLOSTER.
 * But cloaks and gowns before this day, a many.

WIFE.
 * Never before this day in all his life.

GLOSTER.
 * Tell me, sirrah, what's my name?

SIMPCOX.
 * Alas, master, I know not.

GLOSTER.
 * What's his name?

SIMPCOX.
 * I know not.

GLOSTER.
 * Nor his?

SIMPCOX.
 * No, indeed, master.

GLOSTER.
 * What's thine own name?

SIMPCOX.
 * Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master.

GLOSTER.
 * Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave in
 * Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightst as well
 * have known all our names as thus to name the several colours we
 * do wear. Sight may distinguish of colours; but suddenly to
 * nominate them all, it is impossible.—My lords, Saint Alban here
 * hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his cunning to be
 * great that could restore this cripple to his legs again?

SIMPCOX.
 * O master, that you could!

GLOSTER.
 * My masters of Saint Alban's, have you not beadles in
 * your town, and things called whips?

MAYOR.
 * Yes, my lord, if it please your grace.

GLOSTER.
 * Then send for one presently.

MAYOR.
 * Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.

[Exit an Attendant.]

GLOSTER.
 * Now fetch me a stool hither by and by.—Now, sirrah,
 * if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me over this
 * stool and run away.

SIMPCOX.
 * Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone;
 * You go about to torture me in vain.

[Enter a Beadle with whips.]

GLOSTER.
 * Well, sir, we must have you find your legs.—
 * Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.

BEADLE.
 * I will, my lord.—Come on, sirrah; off with your doublet
 * quickly.

SIMPCOX.
 * Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.

[After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry, 'A miracle!']

KING.
 * O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?

QUEEN.
 * It made me laugh to see the villain run.

GLOSTER.
 * Follow the knave, and take this drab away.

WIFE.
 * Alas, sir, we did it for pure need!

GLOSTER.
 * Let them be whipped through every market-town
 * till they come to Berwick, from whence they came.

[Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, etc.]

CARDINAL.
 * Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day.

SUFFOLK.
 * True; made the lame to leap and fly away.

GLOSTER.
 * But you have done more miracles than I;
 * You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly.

[Enter BUCKINGHAM.]

KING.
 * What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold.
 * A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent,
 * Under the countenance and confederacy
 * Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife,
 * The ringleader and head of all this rout,
 * Have practis'd dangerously against your state,
 * Dealing with witches and with conjurers,
 * Whom we have apprehended in the fact,
 * Raising up wicked spirits from underground,
 * Demanding of King Henry's life and death,
 * And other of your highness' privy-council,
 * As more at large your Grace shall understand.

CARDINAL.
 * [Aside to Gloster.] And so, my lord protector,
 * by this means
 * Your lady is forthcoming yet at London.
 * This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge;
 * 'T is like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.

GLOSTER.
 * Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart.
 * Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers;
 * And, vanquish'd as I am, I yield to thee,
 * Or to the meanest groom.

KING.
 * O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones,
 * Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby!

QUEEN.
 * Gloster, see here the tainture of thy nest;
 * And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best.

GLOSTER.
 * Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal,
 * How I have lov'd my king and commonweal;
 * And, for my wife, I know not how it stands.
 * Sorry I am to hear what I have heard;
 * Noble she is; but if she have forgot
 * Honour and virtue, and convers'd with such
 * As like to pitch defile nobility,
 * I banish her my bed and company,
 * And give her as a prey to law and shame,
 * That hath dishonoured Gloster's honest name.

KING.
 * Well, for this night we will repose us here;
 * To-morrow toward London back again,
 * To look into this business thoroughly,
 * And call these foul offenders to their answers,
 * And poise the cause in justice' equal scales,
 * Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE II. London. The Duke of York's Garden.
[Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK.]

YORK.
 * Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick,
 * Our simple supper ended, give me leave
 * In this close walk to satisfy myself,
 * In craving your opinion of my title,
 * Which is infallible, to England's crown.

SALISBURY.
 * My lord, I long to hear it at full.

WARWICK.
 * Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good,
 * The Nevils are thy subjects to command.

YORK.
 * Then thus:
 * Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons:
 * The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales;
 * The second, William of Hatfield; and the third,
 * Lionel Duke of Clarence; next to whom
 * Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster;
 * The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York;
 * The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloster;
 * William of Windsor was the seventh and last.
 * Edward the Black Prince died before his father
 * And left behind him Richard, his only son,
 * Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king;
 * Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster,
 * The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
 * Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth,
 * Seiz'd on the realm, depos'd the rightful king,
 * Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came,
 * And him to Pomfret, where, as all you know,
 * Harmless Richard was murther'd traitorously.

WARWICK.
 * Father, the duke hath told the truth;
 * Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.

YORK.
 * Which now they hold by force and not by right;
 * For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead,
 * The issue of the next son should have reign'd.

SALISBURY.
 * But William of Hatfield died without an heir.

YORK.
 * The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line
 * I claim the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter,
 * Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
 * Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March;
 * Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne, and Eleanor.

SALISBURY.
 * This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke,
 * As I have read, laid claim unto the crown;
 * And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king,
 * Who kept him in captivity till he died.
 * But to the rest.

YORK.
 * His eldest sister, Anne,
 * My mother, being heir unto the crown,
 * Married Richard Earl of Cambridge, who was son
 * To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son.
 * By her I claim the kingdom; she was heir
 * To Roger Earl of March, who was the son
 * Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe,
 * Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence.
 * So, if the issue of the elder son
 * Succeed before the younger, I am king.

WARWICK.
 * What plain proceeding is more plain than this?
 * Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt,
 * The fourth son; York claims it from the third.
 * Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign;
 * It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee
 * And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.—
 * Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together;
 * And in this private plot be we the first
 * That shall salute our rightful sovereign
 * With honour of his birthright to the crown.

BOTH.
 * Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king!

YORK.
 * We thank you, lords. But I am not your king
 * Till I be crown'd, and that my sword be stain'd
 * With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster;
 * And that's not suddenly to be perform'd,
 * But with advice and silent secrecy.
 * Do you as I do in these dangerous days,—
 * Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence,
 * At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition,
 * At Buckingham, and all the crew of them,
 * Till they have snar'd the shepherd of the flock,
 * That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey;
 * 'T is that they seek, and they in seeking that
 * Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy.

SALISBURY.
 * My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full.

WARWICK.
 * My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick
 * Shall one day make the Duke of York a king.

YORK.
 * And, Nevil, this I do assure myself:
 * Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick
 * The greatest man in England but the king.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. A Hall of Justice.
[Sound trumpets. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, GLOSTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY; the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER, MARGERY JOURDAIN, SOUTHWELL, HUME, and BOLINGBROKE, under guard.]

KING.
 * Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloster's wife.
 * In sight of God and us, your guilt is great;
 * Receive the sentence of the law for sins
 * Such as by God's book are adjudg'd to death.—
 * You four, from hence to prison back again,
 * From thence unto the place of execution.
 * The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes,
 * And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.—
 * You, madam, for you are more nobly born,
 * Despoiled of your honour in your life,
 * Shall, after three days' open penance done,
 * Live in your country here in banishment,
 * With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man.

DUCHESS.
 * Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death.

GLOSTER.
 * Eleanor, the law, thou seest, hath judged thee;
 * I cannot justify whom the law condemns.—

[Exeunt Duchess and the other prisoners, guarded..]


 * Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
 * Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age
 * Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!—
 * I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go;
 * Sorrow would solace, and mine age would ease.

KING.
 * Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloster.
 * Ere thou go,
 * Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself
 * Protector be, and God shall be my hope,
 * My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet.
 * And go in peace, Humphrey, no less belov'd
 * Than when thou wert protector to thy king.

QUEEN.
 * I see no reason why a king of years
 * Should be to be protected like a child.—
 * God and King Henry govern England's realm.
 * Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm.

GLOSTER.
 * My staff? Here, noble Henry, is my staff.
 * As willingly do I the same resign
 * As e'er 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.
 * Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen;
 * And Humphrey Duke of Gloster scarce himself,
 * That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once—
 * His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off.
 * This staff of honour raught, there let it stand
 * Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand.

SUFFOLK.
 * Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays;
 * Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days.

YORK.
 * Lords, let him go.—Please it your majesty,
 * This is 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.
 * Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore
 * Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.

KING.
 * O' God's name, see the lists and all things fit.
 * Here let them end it; and God defend the right!

YORK.
 * I never saw a fellow worse bested,
 * Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
 * The servant of 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 him and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and at the other door PETER, his man, with a drum and sandbag, and Prentices drinking to him.]

1 NEIGHBOUR.
 * Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of
 * sack; and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough.

2 NEIGHBOUR.
 * And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco.

3 NEIGHBOUR.
 * And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour;
 * drink, and fear not your man.

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

1 PRENTICE.
 * Here, Peter, I drink to thee; and be not afraid.

2 PRENTICE.
 * Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight
 * for credit of the prentices.

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

SALISBURY.
 * Come, leave your drinking and fall to blows.—
 * Sirrah, what's 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 man's instigation,
 * to prove 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 knave's tongue begins to double.—
 * Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants!

[Alarum. They fight, and Peter strikes 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 master's way.

PETER.
 * O God, have I overcome mine enemies in this presence? O
 * Peter, thou hast prevail'd in right!

KING.
 * Go, take hence that traitor from our sight,
 * For by his death we do perceive his guilt;
 * And God in justice hath reveal'd to us
 * The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
 * Which he had thought to have murther'd wrongfully.—
 * Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.

[Sound a flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. A Street.
[Enter GLOSTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks.]

GLOSTER.
 * Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud,
 * And after summer evermore succeeds
 * Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold;
 * So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
 * Sirs, what's o'clock?

SERVINGMEN.
 * Ten, my lord.

GLOSTER.
 * Ten is the hour that was appointed me
 * To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess.
 * Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
 * To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.—
 * Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
 * The abject people gazing on thy face
 * With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
 * That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels
 * When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.—
 * But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare
 * My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.

[Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with SIR JOHN STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers.]

SERVINGMEN.
 * So please your Grace, we'll take her from the
 * sheriff.

GLOSTER.
 * No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by.

DUCHESS.
 * Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
 * Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
 * See how the giddy multitude do point,
 * And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
 * Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks,
 * And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
 * And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!

GLOSTER.
 * Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.

DUCHESS.
 * Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself!
 * For whilst I think I am thy married wife,
 * And thou a prince, protector of this land,
 * Methinks I should not thus be led along,
 * Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back,
 * And follow'd with a rabble that rejoice
 * To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
 * The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
 * And when I start, the envious people laugh
 * And bid me be advised how I tread.
 * Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
 * Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world,
 * Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
 * No; dark shall be my light and night my day;
 * To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
 * Sometimes I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife,
 * And he a prince and ruler of the land;
 * Yet so he rul'd and such a prince he was
 * As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
 * Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
 * To every idle rascal follower.
 * But be thou mild and blush not at my shame,
 * Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
 * Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will;
 * For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
 * With her that hateth thee and hates us all,
 * And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
 * Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
 * 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.

GLOSTER.
 * 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 scath
 * So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
 * Wouldst 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.
 * 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 majesty's parliament,
 * Holden at Bury the first of this next month.

GLOSTER.
 * 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.

SHERIFF.
 * 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.

GLOSTER.
 * Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here?

STANLEY.
 * So am I given in charge, may 't please your grace.

GLOSTER.
 * Entreat her not the worse in that I pray
 * You use her well.
 * The world may laugh again,
 * And I may live to do you kindness if
 * You do it her; and so, Sir John, farewell!

DUCHESS.
 * What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell!

GLOSTER.
 * Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.

[Exeunt Gloster and Servingmen.]

DUCHESS.
 * 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 wish'd this world's 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 us'd according to your state.

DUCHESS.
 * That's bad enough, for I am but reproach;
 * And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?

STANLEY.
 * Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady;
 * According to that state you shall be us'd.

DUCHESS.
 * Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare,
 * Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.

SHERIFF.
 * It is my office; and, madam, pardon me.

DUCHESS.
 * Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.—
 * Come, Stanley, shall we go?

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

DUCHESS.
 * 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.]

SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's.
[Sound a sennet. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY, and WARWICK to the Parliament.]

KING.
 * I muse my Lord of Gloster is not come;
 * 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,
 * Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.

QUEEN.
 * Can you not see? or will ye not observe
 * The strangeness of his alter'd 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 admir'd him for submission;
 * But meet him now, and be it in the morn
 * When every one will give the time of day,
 * He knits his brow, and shows an angry eye,
 * And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee,
 * Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
 * Small curs are not regarded when they grin,
 * But great men tremble when the lion roars;
 * And Humphrey is no little man in England.
 * First note that he is near you in descent,
 * And should you fall, he is the next will mount.
 * Me seemeth then it is no policy,
 * Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears
 * And his advantage following your decease,
 * That he should come about your royal person
 * Or be admitted to your highness' council.
 * By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts,
 * And when he please to make commotion
 * 'T is to be fear'd they all will follow him.
 * Now 't is the spring and weeds are shallow-rooted;
 * Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden
 * And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
 * The reverent care I bear unto my lord
 * Made me collect these dangers in the duke.
 * If it be fond, can it a woman's fear;
 * Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
 * I will subscribe and say I wrong'd 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 to speak my mind,
 * I think I should have told your grace's 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 brain-sick duchess
 * By wicked means to frame our sovereign's 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; Gloster is a man
 * Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit.

CARDINAL.
 * Did he not, contrary to form of 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.

KING.
 * 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 Gloster 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
 * To dream on evil or to work my downfall.

QUEEN.
 * Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance!
 * Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd,
 * For he's disposed as the hateful raven;
 * Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him,
 * For he's inclin'd as is the ravenous wolf.
 * 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 SOMERSET.]

SOMERSET.
 * All health unto my gracious sovereign!

KING.
 * Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?

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

KING.
 * Cold news, Lord Somerset; but God's will 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 GLOSTER.]

GLOSTER.
 * All happiness unto my lord the king!
 * Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long.

SUFFOLK.
 * Nay, Gloster, know that thou art come too soon,
 * Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art.
 * I do arrest thee of high treason here.

GLOSTER.
 * Well, Suffolk, 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?

YORK.
 * 'T is thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France,
 * And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay,
 * By means whereof his highness hath lost France.

GLOSTER.
 * 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 dispursed to the garrisons,
 * And never ask'd for restitution.

CARDINAL.
 * It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.

GLOSTER.
 * 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.

GLOSTER.
 * Why, 't is well known that, whiles I was protector,
 * 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 murtherer,
 * Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers,
 * I never gave them condign punishment.
 * Murther indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
 * Above the felon or what trespass else.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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.

KING.
 * My Lord of Gloster, 't is my special hope
 * That you will clear yourself from all suspect;
 * My conscience tells me you are innocent.

GLOSTER.
 * Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous.
 * Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,
 * 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 unburthens 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—
 * And all to make away my guiltless life.
 * I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
 * Nor store of treasons to 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 treason's secret knife and traitor's rage
 * Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,
 * And the offender granted scope of speech,
 * 'T will make them cool in zeal unto your grace.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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?

QUEEN.
 * But I can give the loser leave to chide.

GLOSTER.
 * 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.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * He'll 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.

GLOSTER.
 * 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.

[Exit, guarded.]

KING.
 * My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best,
 * Do or undo, as if ourself were here.

QUEEN.
 * What, will your highness leave the parliament?

KING.
 * 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 lowering 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.'

[Exeunt all but Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk and York; Somerset remains apart.]

QUEEN.
 * 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 bank,
 * With shining checker'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.

CARDINAL.
 * That he should die is worthy policy,
 * But yet we want a colour for his death,
 * 'T is meet he be condemn'd 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 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.
 * 'T is 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?

QUEEN.
 * So the poor chicken should be sure of death.

SUFFOLK.
 * Madam, 't is true; and were 't not madness, then,
 * To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
 * Who being accus'd a crafty murtherer,
 * 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 subtlety,
 * Sleeping or waking, 't is no matter how,
 * So he be dead; for that is good deceit
 * Which mates him first that first intends deceit.

QUEEN.
 * Thrice-noble Suffolk, 't is resolutely spoke.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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.

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 the deed,
 * And I'll provide his executioner,
 * I tender so the safety of my liege.

SUFFOLK.
 * Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.

QUEEN.
 * 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 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 council give you in this weighty cause?

YORK.
 * That Somerset be sent as regent thither.
 * 'T is meet that lucky ruler be employ'd;
 * 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 stay'd 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 character'd on thy skin;
 * Men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win.

QUEEN.
 * 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 nought? 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.
 * The uncivil kerns 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.

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 am content.—Provide me soldiers, lords,
 * Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.

SUFFOLK.
 * A charge, Lord York, that I will see perform'd.
 * 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 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.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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, 't is 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.
 * 'T was 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 tide 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 almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine;
 * And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen
 * Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,
 * Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells.
 * Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern,
 * 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 't is 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 St. Edmund's. A Room of State.
[Enter certain Murderers, hastily.]

1 MURDERER.
 * Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know
 * We have dispatch'd the duke, as he commanded.

2 MURDERER.
 * O that it were to do! What have we done?
 * Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

[Enter SUFFOLK.]

1 MURDERER.
 * Here comes my lord.

SUFFOLK.
 * Now, sirs, have you dispatch'd this thing?

1 MURDERER.
 * Ay, my good lord, he's dead.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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? Is all things well,
 * According as I gave directions?

1 MURDERER.
 * 'T is, my good lord.

SUFFOLK.
 * Away! be gone.

[Exeunt Murderers.]

[Sound trumpets. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SOMERSET, with attendants.]

KING.
 * Go, call our uncle to our presence straight;
 * Say we intend to try his grace to-day,
 * If he be guilty, as 't is published.

SUFFOLK.
 * I'll call him presently, my noble lord.

[Exit.]

KING.
 * 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.

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

KING.
 * I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.—

[Re-enter SUFFOLK.]


 * How now! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?
 * Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?

SUFFOLK.
 * Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloster is dead.

QUEEN.
 * Marry, God forfend!

CARDINAL.
 * God's secret judgment!—I did dream to-night
 * The duke was dumb and could not speak a word.

[The King swoons.]

QUEEN.
 * How fares my lord?—Help, lords! the king is dead.

SOMERSET.
 * Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.

QUEEN.
 * Run, go, help, help!—O Henry, ope thine eyes!

SUFFOLK.
 * He doth revive again.—Madam, be patient.

KING.
 * O heavenly God!

QUEEN.
 * How fares my gracious lord?

SUFFOLK.
 * Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!

KING.
 * 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 murtherous 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.

QUEEN.
 * 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. Ay me, unhappy!
 * To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!

KING.
 * Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man!

QUEEN.
 * 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 and worship it,
 * And make my image but an alehouse sign.
 * Was I for this nigh wrack'd upon the sea,
 * And twice by awkward 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 forth their brazen caves,
 * And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore,
 * Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
 * Yet Aeolus would not be a murtherer,
 * But left that hateful office unto thee.
 * The pretty-vaulting sea refus'd to drown me,
 * Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore,
 * With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness.
 * The splitting rocks cower'd 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 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 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 thou not false like him?
 * Ay me, I can no more! die, Margaret!
 * For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.

[Noise within. Enter WARWICK, SALISBURY, and many Commons.]

WARWICK.
 * It is reported, mighty sovereign,
 * That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murther'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.

KING.
 * That he is dead, good Warwick, 't is 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.

[Exit.]

KING.
 * 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 earthy image,
 * What were it but to make my sorrow greater?

[Re-enter WARWICK and others, bearing GLOSTER's body on a bed.]

WARWICK.
 * Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.

KING.
 * 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.

WARWICK.
 * 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.

SUFFOLK.
 * A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
 * What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?

WARWICK.
 * See how the blood is settled in his face.
 * Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,
 * Of ashy semblance, meagre, 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.
 * But see, his face is black and full of blood,
 * His eyeballs further out than when he liv'd,
 * Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;
 * His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling,
 * 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 lodged.
 * It cannot be but he was murther'd here;
 * The least of all these signs were probable.

SUFFOLK.
 * Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?
 * Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;
 * And we, I hope, sir, are no murtherers.

WARWICK.
 * But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes,
 * And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep;
 * 'T is like you would not feast him like a friend,
 * And 't is well seen he found an enemy.


 * QUEEN.
 * Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen
 * As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.

WARWICK.
 * Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh
 * And sees fast by a butcher with an axe
 * But will suspect 't was he that made the slaughter?
 * Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest
 * But may imagine how the bird was dead,
 * Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
 * Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

QUEEN.
 * Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?
 * Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?

SUFFOLK.
 * 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 murther's crimson badge.—
 * Say, if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,
 * That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.

[Exeunt Cardinal, Somerset, and others.]

WARWICK.
 * What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

QUEEN.
 * He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,
 * Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,
 * Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

WARWICK.
 * Madam, be still,—with reverence may I say;
 * For every word you speak in his behalf
 * Is slander to your royal dignity.

SUFFOLK.
 * 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 crab-tree slip, whose fruit thou art,
 * And never of the Nevils' noble race.

WARWICK.
 * But that the guilt of murther 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 murtherous coward, on thy knee
 * Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech
 * And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st,
 * That thou thyself was born in bastardy;
 * And after all this fearful homage done,
 * Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,
 * Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men!

SUFFOLK.
 * Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,
 * If from this presence thou dar'st go with me.

WARWICK.
 * 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.]

KING.
 * What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!
 * Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just,
 * And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
 * Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

[A noise within.]

QUEEN.
 * What noise is this?

[Re-enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn.]

KING.
 * Why, how now, lords! your wrathful weapons drawn
 * Here in our presence! dare you be so bold?
 * Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?

SUFFOLK.
 * The traitorous Warwick with the men of Bury
 * Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.

SALISBURY.
 * [To the Commons, entering.] Sirs, stand apart;
 * the king shall know your mind.—
 * Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,
 * Unless false Suffolk straight be done to death,
 * Or banished fair England's territories,
 * They will by violence tear him from your palace
 * And torture him with grievous lingering death.
 * They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died;
 * They say, in him they fear 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, whether you will or no,
 * From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is,
 * With whose envenomed 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!

SUFFOLK.
 * 'T is like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
 * Could send such message to their sovereign;
 * But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
 * To show how quaint an orator you are.
 * But all the honour Salisbury hath won
 * Is that he was the lord ambassador
 * Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.

COMMONS.
 * [Within.] An answer from the king, or we will all break in!

KING.
 * Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me,
 * I thank them for their tender loving care,
 * And had I not been cited so by them,
 * Yet did I purpose as they do entreat,
 * For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy
 * Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means;
 * And therefore, by His majesty I swear,
 * Whose far unworthy deputy I am,
 * He shall not breathe infection in this air
 * But three days longer, on the pain of death.

[Exit Salisbury.]

QUEEN.
 * O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!

KING.
 * Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk!
 * No more, I say; if thou dost plead for him,
 * Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
 * Had I but said, I would have kept my word,
 * But when I swear, it is irrevocable.—
 * If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found
 * On any ground that I am ruler of,
 * 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 all but Queen and Suffolk.]

QUEEN.
 * Mischance and sorrow go along with you!
 * Heart's discontent and sour affliction
 * Be playfellows to keep you company!
 * There's two of you; the devil make a third!
 * And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!

SUFFOLK.
 * Cease, gentle queen, these execrations,
 * And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

QUEEN.
 * Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch,
 * Has thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?

SUFFOLK.
 * A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them?
 * Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,
 * I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
 * As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
 * Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
 * With full as many signs of deadly hate,
 * As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave.
 * My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;
 * Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
 * Mine hair be fix'd an end, as one distract;
 * Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban;
 * And even now my burthen'd heart would break,
 * Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
 * Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
 * Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress-trees!
 * Their chiefest prospect murthering basilisks!
 * Their softest touch as smart as lizards' stings!
 * Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss,
 * And boding screech-owls make the consort full!
 * All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell—

QUEEN.
 * Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself;
 * And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass,
 * Or like an overcharged gun, recoil
 * And turns the force of them upon thyself.

SUFFOLK.
 * You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?
 * Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from,
 * Well could I curse away a winter's night,
 * Though standing naked on a mountain top
 * Where biting cold would never let grass grow,
 * And think it but a minute spent in sport.

QUEEN.
 * O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand,
 * That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
 * Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
 * To wash away my woeful monuments.
 * O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
 * That thou mightest 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;
 * 'T is but surmis'd whiles 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 be gone.—
 * 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!

SUFFOLK.
 * Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished;
 * Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
 * 'T is not the land I care for, wert thou thence;
 * A wilderness is populous enough,
 * So Suffolk had thy heavenly company;
 * For where thou art, there is the world itself,
 * With every several pleasure in the world,
 * And where thou art not, desolation.
 * I can no more; live thou to joy thy life,
 * Myself no joy in nought but that thou liv'st.

[Enter VAUX.]

QUEEN.
 * Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee?

VAUX.
 * To signify unto his majesty
 * That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death;
 * For suddenly a grievous sickness took him,
 * That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air,
 * Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.
 * Sometime he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost
 * Were by his side, sometime he calls the king
 * And whispers to his pillow as to him
 * The secrets of his overcharged soul;
 * And I am sent to tell his majesty
 * That even now he cries aloud for him.

QUEEN.
 * Go tell this heavy message to the king.—

[Exit Vaux.]


 * Ay me! what is this world! what news are these!
 * But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
 * Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?
 * Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
 * And with the southern clouds contend in tears,
 * Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows?
 * Now get thee hence.
 * The king, thou know'st, is coming;
 * If thou be found by me; thou art but dead.

SUFFOLK.
 * If I depart from thee, I cannot live;
 * And in thy sight to die, what were it else
 * But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
 * Here could I breathe my soul into the air,
 * As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
 * Dying with mother's dug between its lips;
 * Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad
 * And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,
 * To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth.
 * So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul,
 * Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
 * And then it liv'd in sweet Elysium.
 * To die by thee were but to die in jest;
 * From thee to die were torture more than death.
 * O, let me stay, befall what may befall!

QUEEN.
 * Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive,
 * It is applied to a deathful wound.
 * To France, sweet Suffolk; let me hear from thee,
 * For whereso'er thou art in this world's globe
 * I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.

SUFFOLK.
 * I go.

QUEEN.
 * And take my heart with thee.

SUFFOLK.
 * A jewel, lock'd into the wofull'st cask
 * That ever did contain a thing of worth.
 * Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we;
 * This way fall I to death.

QUEEN.
 * This way for me.

[Exeunt severally.]

SCENE III. A Bedchamber.
[Enter the KING, SALISBURY, and WARWICK, to the CARDINAL in bed.]

KING.
 * How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.

CARDINAL.
 * If thou be'st Death, I'll give thee England's treasure,
 * Enough to purchase such another island,
 * So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.

KING.
 * Ah, what a sign it is of evil life
 * Where death's approach is seen so terrible!

WARWICK.
 * Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.

CARDINAL.
 * Bring me unto my trial when you will.
 * Died he not in his bed? where should he die?
 * Can I make men live, whether they will or no?
 * O, torture me no more! I will confess.—
 * Alive again? then show me where he is;
 * I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him.
 * He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.
 * Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright,
 * Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul.—
 * Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary
 * Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.

KING.
 * 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!

WARWICK.
 * See how the pangs of death do make him grin!

SALISBURY.
 * Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.

KING.
 * Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!—
 * Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,
 * Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.—
 * He dies, and makes no sign.—O God, forgive him!

WARWICK.
 * So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

KING HENRY.
 * Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.—
 * Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close;
 * And let us all to meditation.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE I. The Coast of Kent.
[Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners.]

CAPTAIN.
 * 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, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

1 GENTLEMAN.
 * What is my ransom, master? let me know?

MASTER.
 * A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.

MATE.
 * And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.

CAPTAIN.
 * What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
 * 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
 * Be counterpois'd with such a petty sum!

1 GENTLEMAN.
 * I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.

2 GENTLEMAN.
 * And so will I, and write home for it straight.

WHITMORE.
 * I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,—
 * [To Suffolk] And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die;—
 * And so should these, if I might have my will.

CAPTAIN.
 * Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.

SUFFOLK.
 * Look on my George; I am a gentleman.
 * Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.

WHITMORE.
 * And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
 * How now! why start'st thou? What, doth death affright?

SUFFOLK.
 * 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;
 * Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.

WHITMORE.
 * Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not.
 * Never 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!

SUFFOLK.
 * Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
 * The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

WHITMORE.
 * The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!

SUFFOLK.
 * Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke;
 * Jove sometime went disguis'd, and why not I?

CAPTAIN.
 * But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.

SUFFOLK.
 * Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
 * The honourable blood of Lancaster,
 * Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
 * 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-fallen,
 * Ay, and allay thus 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.

WHITMORE.
 * Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?

CAPTAIN.
 * First let my words stab him, as he hath me.

SUFFOLK.
 * Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.

CAPTAIN.
 * Convey him hence, and on our long-boat's side
 * Strike off his head.

SUFFOLK.
 * Thou dar'st not, for thy own.

CAPTAIN.
 * Yes, Pole!

SUFFOLK.
 * Pole!

CAPTAIN.
 * Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
 * Ay, kennel, puddle, sink, whose filth and dirt
 * 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 thou that smil'dst at good Duke Humphrey's death
 * Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
 * Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again.
 * And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
 * For daring to affy a mighty lord
 * Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
 * Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
 * By devilish policy art thou grown great
 * And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg'd
 * With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
 * By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
 * The false revolting Normans thorough thee
 * Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
 * Hath slain their governors, surpris'd our forts,
 * And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
 * The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
 * Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
 * As hating thee are rising up in arms;
 * And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
 * By shameful murther of a guiltless king
 * And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
 * Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours
 * Advance our half-fac'd sun, striving to shine,
 * Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
 * The commons here in Kent are up in arms;
 * And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
 * Is crept into the palace of our king,
 * And all by thee.—Away! convey him hence.

SUFFOLK.
 * O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
 * Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
 * Small things make base men proud; this villain here,
 * Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
 * Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.—
 * Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob bee-hives.
 * It is impossible that I should die
 * By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
 * Thy words move rage and not remorse in me.
 * I go of message from the queen to France;
 * I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.

CAPTAIN.
 * Walter,—

WHITMORE.
 * Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.

SUFFOLK.
 * Gelidus timor occupat artus; it is thee I fear.

WHITMORE.
 * Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
 * What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?

1 GENTLEMAN.
 * My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.

SUFFOLK.
 * Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
 * Us'd to command, untaught to plead for favour.
 * Far be it we should honour such as these
 * With humble suit; no, rather let my head
 * Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
 * Save to the God of heaven and to my king,
 * And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
 * Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
 * True nobility is exempt from fear;
 * More can I bear than you dare execute.

CAPTAIN.
 * Hale him away, and let him talk no more.

SUFFOLK.
 * Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
 * That this my death may never be forgot!
 * Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
 * A Roman sworder and banditto slave
 * Murther'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
 * Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
 * Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

[Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk.]

CAPTAIN.
 * And as for these whose ransom we have set,
 * It is our pleasure one of them depart,
 * Therefore come you with us, and let him go.

[Exeunt all but the 1 Gentleman.]

[Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK'S body.]

WHITMORE.
 * There let his head and lifeless body lie
 * Until the queen his mistress bury it.

[Exit.]

1 GENTLEMAN.
 * O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
 * His body will I bear unto the king.
 * If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
 * So will the queen, that living held him dear.

[Exit with the body.]

SCENE II. Blackheath.
[Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND.]

GEORGE.
 * Come, and get thee a sword, though made of
 * a lath; they have been up these two days.

HOLLAND.
 * They have the more need to sleep now, then.

BEVIS.
 * I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the
 * commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it.

HOLLAND.
 * So he had need, for 't is threadbare. Well, I say
 * it was never merry world in England since gentlemen came up.

BEVIS.
 * O miserable age! virtue is not regarded in
 * handicraftsmen.

HOLLAND.
 * The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons.

BEVIS.
 * Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen.

HOLLAND.
 * True; and yet it is said, labour in thy vocation,
 * which is as much to say as, let the magistrates be labouring
 * men; and therefore should we be magistrates.

BEVIS.
 * Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a brave
 * mind than a hard hand.

HOLLAND.
 * I see them! I see them! There's Best's son, the
 * tanner of Wingham,—

BEVIS.
 * He shall have the skin of our enemies, to make dog's-
 * leather of.

HOLLAND.
 * And Dick the butcher,—

BEVIS.
 * Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's
 * throat cut like a calf.

HOLLAND.
 * And Smith the weaver,—

BEVIS.
 * Argo, their thread of life is spun.

HOLLAND.
 * Come, come, let's fall in with them.

[Drum. Enter CADE, DICK the Butcher, SMITH the Weaver, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers.]

CADE.
 * We John Cade, so term'd of our supposed father,—

DICK.
 * [Aside.] Or rather, of stealing a cade of herrings.

CADE.
 * For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired with the
 * spirit of putting down kings and princes,—Command silence.

DICK.
 * Silence!

CADE.
 * My father was a Mortimer,—

DICK.
 * [Aside.] He was an honest man and a good bricklayer.

CADE.
 * My mother a Plantagenet,—

DICK.
 * [Aside.] I knew her well; she was a midwife.

CADE.
 * My wife descended of the Lacies,—

DICK.
 * [Aside.] She was, indeed, a pedler's daughter, and sold
 * many laces.

SMITH.
 * [Aside.] But now of late, not able to travel with her
 * furred pack, she washes bucks here at home.

CADE.
 * Therefore am I of an honourable house.

DICK.
 * [Aside.] Ay, by my faith, the field is honourable; and
 * there was he born, under a hedge, for his father had never a
 * house but
 * the cage.

CADE.
 * Valiant I am.

SMITH.
 * [Aside.] A' must needs; for beggary is valiant.

CADE.
 * I am able to endure much.

DICK.
 * [Aside.] No question of that; for I have seen him whipped
 * three market-days together.

CADE.
 * I fear neither sword nor fire.

SMITH.
 * [Aside.] He need not fear the sword, for his coat is of
 * proof.

DICK.
 * [Aside.] But methinks he should stand in fear of fire,
 * being burnt i' the hand for stealing of sheep.

CADE.
 * Be brave, then; for your captain is brave, and vows
 * reformation. There shall be in England seven halfpenny loaves
 * sold for a penny; the three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops; and
 * I will make it felony to drink small beer. All the realm shall be
 * in common; and in Cheapside shall my palfry go to grass; and
 * when I am king, as king I will be,—

ALL.
 * God save your majesty!

CADE.
 * I thank you, good people;—there shall be no money; all shall
 * eat and drink on my score, and I will apparel them all in one
 * livery, that they may agree like brothers and worship me their
 * lord.

DICK.
 * The first thing we do, let's kill all the lawyers.

CADE.
 * Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lamentable thing, that
 * of the skin of an innocent lamb should be made parchment, that
 * parchment, being scribbl'd o'er, should undo a man? Some say the
 * bee stings; but I say 't is the bee's wax, for I did but seal
 * once to a thing, and I was never mine own man since.—How now!
 * who's there?

[Enter some, bringing in the Clerk of Chatham.]

SMITH.
 * The clerk of Chatham; he can write and read and cast
 * accompt.

CADE.
 * O monstrous!


 * SMITH.
 * We took him setting of boys' copies.

CADE.
 * Here's a villain!

SMITH.
 * Has a book in his pocket with red letters in 't.

CADE.
 * Nay, then, he is a conjurer.

DICK.
 * Nay, he can make obligations and write court-hand.

CADE.
 * I am sorry for 't.
 * The man is a proper man, of mine honour;
 * unless I find him guilty, he shall not die.—Come hither, sirrah,
 * I must examine thee; what is thy name?

CLERK.
 * Emmanuel.

DICK.
 * They use to write it on the top of letters.—'T will go
 * hard with you.

CADE.
 * Let me alone.—Dost thou use to write thy name? or hast
 * thou a mark to thyself, like a honest, plain-dealing man?

CLERK.
 * Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought up that I
 * can write my name.

ALL.
 * He hath confess'd; away with him! he's a villain and a
 * traitor.

CADE.
 * Away with him, I say! hang him with his pen and inkhorn
 * about his neck.

[Exit one with the Clerk.]

[Enter MICHAEL.]

MICHAEL.
 * Where's our general?

CADE.
 * Here I am, thou particular fellow.

MICHAEL.
 * Fly, fly, fly! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother
 * are hard by, with the king's forces.

CADE.
 * Stand, villain, stand, or I'll fell thee down. He shall be
 * encountered with a man as good as himself; he is but a knight,
 * is a'?

MICHAEL.
 * No.

CADE.
 * To equal him, I will make myself a knight presently.—
 * [Kneels.] Rise up Sir John Mortimer.—[Rises.] Now have at him!

[Enter SIR HUMPHREY STAFFORD and his Brother, with drum and soldiers.]

STAFFORD.
 * Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent,
 * Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down;
 * Home to your cottages, forsake this groom.
 * The king is merciful, if you revolt.

BROTHER.
 * But angry, wrathful, and inclin'd to blood,
 * If you go forward; therefore yield, or die.

CADE.
 * As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not;
 * It is to you, good people, that I speak,
 * OVer whom, in time to come, I hope to reign,
 * For I am rightful heir unto the crown.

STAFFORD.
 * Villain, thy father was a plasterer;
 * And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not?

CADE.
 * And Adam was a gardener.

BROTHER.
 * And what of that?

CADE.
 * Marry, this: Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March,
 * Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not?

STAFFORD.
 * Ay, sir.

CADE.
 * By her he had two children at one birth.

BROTHER.
 * That's false.

CADE.
 * Ay, there's the question; but I say 't is true.
 * The elder of them, being put to nurse,
 * Was by a beggar-woman stolen away,
 * And, ignorant of his birth and parentage,
 * Became a bricklayer when he came to age.
 * His son am I; deny it, if you can.

DICK.
 * Nay, 't is too true; therefore he shall be king.

SMITH.
 * Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, and the bricks
 * are alive at this day to testify it; therefore deny it not.

STAFFORD.
 * And will you credit this base drudge's words,
 * That speaks he knows not what?

ALL.
 * Ay, marry, will we; therefore get ye gone.

BROTHER.
 * Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this.

CADE.
 * [Aside.] He lies, for I invented it myself.—Go to, sirrah,
 * tell the king from me that, for his father's sake, Henry the
 * Fifth, in whose time boys went to span-counter for French crowns,
 * I am content he shall reign; but I'll be protector over him.

DICK.
 * And furthermore, we'll have the Lord Say's head for
 * selling the dukedom of Maine.

CADE.
 * And good reason; for thereby is England mained, and fain to go
 * with a staff, but that my puissance holds it up. Fellow kings, I
 * tell you that that Lord Say hath gelded the commonwealth and made
 * it an eunuch; and more than that, he can speak French, and
 * therefore he is a traitor.

STAFFORD.
 * O gross and miserable ignorance!

CADE.
 * Nay, answer if you can: the Frenchmen are our enemies;
 * go to, then, I ask but this: can he that speaks with the tongue
 * of an enemy be a good counsellor, or no?

ALL.
 * No, no; and therefore we'll have his head.

BROTHER.
 * Well, seeing gentle words will not prevail,
 * Assail them with the army of the king.

STAFFORD.
 * Herald, away; and throughout every town
 * Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade;
 * That those which fly before the battle ends
 * May, even in their wives' and children's sight,
 * Be hang'd up for example at their doors.—
 * And you that be the king's friends, follow me.

[Exeunt the two Staffords, and soldiers.]

CADE.
 * And you that love the commons follow me.
 * Now show yourselves men; 't is for liberty.
 * We will not leave one lord, one gentleman;
 * Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon,
 * For they are thrifty honest men and such
 * As would, but that they dare not, take our parts.

DICK.
 * They are all in order and march toward us.

CADE.
 * But then are we in order when we are most out of
 * order.—Come, march forward.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Another part of Blackheath.
[Alarums to the fight, wherein both the STAFFORDS are slain. Enter CADE and the rest.]

CADE.
 * Where's Dick, the butcher of Ashford?

DICK.
 * Here, sir.

CADE.
 * They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and thou
 * behavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in thine own
 * slaughter-house; therefore thus will I reward thee:
 * the Lent shall be as long again as it is, and thou
 * shalt have a licence to kill for a hundred lacking one.

DICK.
 * I desire no more.

CADE.
 * And, to speak truth, thou deservest no less.
 * This monument of the victory will I bear
 * [putting on Sir Humphrey's brigandine];
 * and the bodies shall be dragged at my horse heels till I do come
 * to London, where we will have the mayor's sword borne before us.

DICK.
 * If we mean to thrive and do good, break open the gaols and
 * let out the prisoners.

CADE.
 * Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let's march towards
 * London.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IV. London. The Palace.
[Enter the KING with a supplication, and the QUEEN with Suffolk's head, the DUKE OF BUCKINGHAM and the LORD SAY.]

QUEEN.
 * Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind
 * And makes it fearful and degenerate;
 * Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep.
 * But who can cease to weep and look on this?
 * Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast;
 * But where's the body that I should embrace?

BUCKINGHAM.
 * What answer makes your grace to the rebels'
 * supplication?

KING.
 * I'll send some holy bishop to entreat;
 * For God forbid so many simple souls
 * Should perish by the sword! And I myself,
 * Rather than bloody war shall cut them short,
 * Will parley with Jack Cade their general.—
 * But stay, I'll read it over once again.

QUEEN.
 * Ah, barbarous villains! hath this lovely face
 * Rul'd, like a wandering planet, over me,
 * And could it not enforce them to relent
 * That were unworthy to behold the same?

KING.
 * Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy head.

SAY.
 * Ay, but I hope your highness shall have his.

KING.
 * How now, madam!
 * Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death?
 * I fear me, love, if that I had been dead,
 * Thou wouldst not have mourn'd so much for me.

QUEEN.
 * No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for thee.

[Enter a Messenger.]

KING.
 * How now! what news? why com'st thou in such haste?

MESSENGER.
 * The rebels are in Southwark; fly, my lord!
 * Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer,
 * Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house,
 * And calls your grace usurper openly,
 * And vows to crown himself in Westminster.
 * His army is a ragged multitude
 * Of hinds and peasants, rude and merciless;
 * Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's death
 * Hath given them heart and courage to proceed.
 * All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen,
 * They call false caterpillars, and intend their death.

KING.
 * O graceless men! they know not what they do.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * My gracious lord, retire to Killingworth
 * Until a power be rais'd to put them down.

QUEEN.
 * Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now alive,
 * These Kentish rebels would be soon appeas'd!

KING.
 * Lord Say, the traitors hate thee;
 * Therefore away with us to Killingworth.

SAY.
 * So might your grace's person be in danger.
 * The sight of me is odious in their eyes;
 * And therefore in this city will I stay
 * And live alone as secret as I may.

[Enter another Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * Jack Cade hath gotten London bridge;
 * The citizens fly and forsake their houses.
 * The rascal people, thirsting after prey,
 * Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear
 * To spoil the city and your royal court.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Then linger not, my lord; away, take horse.

KING.
 * Come Margaret; God, our hope, will succour us.

QUEEN.
 * My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceas'd.

KING.
 * Farewell, my lord; trust not the Kentish rebels.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd.

SAY.
 * The trust I have is in mine innocence,
 * And therefore am I bold and resolute.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE V. London. The Tower.
[Enter LORD SCALES upon the Tower, walking. Then enter two or three Citizens, below.]

SCALES.
 * How now! Is Jack Cade slain?

1 CITIZEN.
 * No, my lord, nor likely to be slain; for they
 * have won the bridge, killing all those that withstand them.
 * The lord mayor craves aid of your honour from the Tower
 * to defend the city from the rebels.

SCALES.
 * Such aid as I can spare you shall command,
 * But I am troubled here with them myself;
 * The rebels have assay'd to win the Tower.
 * But get you to Smithfield and gather head,
 * And thither I will send you Matthew Goffe.
 * Fight for your king, your country, and your lives;
 * And so, farewell, for I must hence again.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VI. London. Cannon Street.
[Enter JACK CADE and the rest, and strikes his staff on London-stone.]

CADE.
 * Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, sitting upon
 * London-stone, I charge and command that, of the city's cost, the
 * conduit run nothing but claret wine this first year of our reign.
 * And now henceforward it shall be treason for any that calls me
 * other
 * than Lord Mortimer.

[Enter a Soldier, running.]

SOLDIER.
 * Jack Cade! Jack Cade!

CADE.
 * Knock him down there.

[They kill him.]

SMITH.
 * If this fellow be wise, he'll never call ye Jack
 * Cade more; I think he hath a very fair warning.

DICK.
 * My lord, there's an army gathered together in Smithfield.

CADE.
 * Come then, let's go fight with them. But first, go and set
 * London bridge on fire; and, if you can, burn down the Tower too.
 * Come, let's away.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VII. London. Smithfield.
[Alarums. MATTHEW GOFFE is slain, and all the rest. Then enter JACK CADE, with his company.]

CADE.
 * So, sirs.—Now go some and pull down the Savoy; others
 * to the inns of court; down with them all.

DICK.
 * I have a suit unto your lordship.

CADE.
 * Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word.

DICK.
 * Only that the laws of England may come out of
 * your mouth.

HOLLAND.
 * [Aside.] Mass, 't will be sore law, then; for he
 * was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 't is not whole yet.

SMITH.
 * [Aside.] Nay, John, it will be stinking law, for his
 * breath stinks with eating toasted cheese.

CADE.
 * I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, burn
 * all the records of the realm. My mouth shall be the parliament
 * of England.

HOLLAND.
 * [Aside.] Then we are like to have biting statutes,
 * unless his teeth be pulled out.

CADE.
 * And henceforward all things shall be in common.

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * My lord, a prize, a prize! here's the Lord
 * Say, which sold the towns in France; he that made us pay
 * one and twenty fifteens, and one shilling to the pound, the
 * last subsidy.

[Enter GEOGE BEVIS, with the LORD SAY.]

CADE.
 * Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times.—Ah, thou say,
 * thou serge, nay, thou buckram lord! now art thou within point-
 * blank of our jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer to my
 * majesty for giving up of Normandy unto Mounsieur Basimecu, the
 * dauphin of France? Be it known unto thee by these presence, even
 * the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the besom that must
 * sweep the court clean of such filth as thou art. Thou hast most
 * traitorously corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a
 * grammar school; and whereas, before, our forefathers had no other
 * books but the score and the tally, thou hast caused printing to
 * be used, and, contrary to the king, his crown, and dignity, thou
 * hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy face that thou
 * hast men about thee that usually talk of a noun and a verb, and
 * such abominable words as no Christian ear can endure to hear.
 * Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call poor men before
 * them about matters they were not able to answer. Moreover, thou
 * hast put them in prison, and because they could not read, thou
 * hast hanged them; when, indeed, only for that cause they have
 * been most worthy to live. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost
 * thou not?

SAY.
 * What of that?

CADE.
 * Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear a cloak
 * when honester men than thou go in their hose and doublets.

DICK.
 * And work in their shirt too; as myself, for example, that
 * am a butcher.

SAY.
 * You men of Kent,—

DICK.
 * What say you of Kent?

SAY.
 * Nothing but this; 't is 'bona terra, mala gens.'

CADE.
 * Away with him, away with him! he speaks Latin.

SAY.
 * Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will.
 * Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ,
 * Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle.
 * Sweet is the country, because full of riches;
 * The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy;
 * Which makes me hope you are not void of pity.
 * I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy,
 * Yet, to recover them, would lose my life.
 * Justice with favour have I always done;
 * Prayers and tears have mov'd me, gifts could never.
 * When have I aught exacted at your hands
 * But to maintain the king, the realm, and you?
 * Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks,
 * Because my book preferr'd me to the king;
 * And seeing ignorance is the curse of God,
 * Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven,
 * Unless you be possess'd with devilish spirits,
 * You cannot but forbear to murther me.
 * This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings
 * For your behoof,—

CADE.
 * Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field?

SAY.
 * Great men have reaching hands; oft have I struck
 * Those that I never saw, and struck them dead.

GEORGE.
 * O monstrous coward! what, to come behind folks?

SAY.
 * These cheeks are pale for watching for your good.

CADE.
 * Give him a box o' the ear, and that will make 'em red
 * again.

SAY.
 * Long sitting to determine poor men's causes
 * Hath made me full of sickness and diseases.

CADE.
 * Ye shall have a hempen caudle then, and the help of
 * hatchet.

DICK.
 * Why dost thou quiver, man?

SAY.
 * The palsy, and not fear, provokes me.

CADE.
 * Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, I'll be even with
 * you. I'll see if his head will stand steadier on a pole or
 * no. Take him away, and behead him.

SAY.
 * Tell me wherein have I offended most?
 * Have I affected wealth or honour? speak.
 * Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold?
 * Is my apparel sumptuous to behold?
 * Whom have I injur'd, that ye seek my death?
 * These hands are free from guiltless bloodshedding,
 * This breast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts.
 * O, let me live!

CADE.
 * [Aside.] I feel remorse in myself with his words, but I'll bridle
 * it; he shall die, an it be but for pleading so well for his
 * life.—
 * Away with him! he has a familiar under his tongue; he speaks not
 * o' God's name. Go, take him away, I say, and strike off his head
 * presently; and then break into his son-in-law's house, Sir James
 * Cromer, and strike off his head, and bring them both upon two
 * poles hither.

ALL.
 * It shall be done.

SAY.
 * Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers,
 * God should be so obdurate as yourselves,
 * How would it fare with your departed souls?
 * And therefore yet relent, and save my life.

CADE.
 * Away with him! and do as I command ye.—[Exeunt some with
 * Lord Say.] The proudest peer in the realm shall not
 * wear a head on his shoulders unless he pay me tribute; there
 * shall not a maid be married but she shall pay to me her
 * maidenhead ere they have it. Men shall hold of me in capite;
 * and we charge and command that their wives be as free as
 * heart can wish or tongue can tell.

DICK.
 * My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside, and take up
 * commodities upon our bills?

CADE.
 * Marry, presently.

ALL.
 * O, brave!

[Re-enter one with the heads.]

CADE.
 * But is not this braver? Let them kiss one another,
 * for they loved well when they were alive. Now part them again,
 * lest they consult about the giving up of some more towns in
 * France.—Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city until night; for
 * with these borne before us, instead of maces will we ride
 * through the streets, and at every corner have them kiss.—Away!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE VIII. Southwark.
[Alarum and retreat. Enter CADE and all his rabblement.]

CADE.
 * Up Fish Street! down Saint Magnus' Corner! kill
 * and knock down! Throw them into Thames! [Sound a parley.]
 * What noise is this I hear? Dare any be so bold to sound retreat
 * or parley when I command them kill?

[Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD, attended.]

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee.
 * Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king
 * Unto the commons whom thou hast misled,
 * And here pronounce free pardon to them all
 * That will forsake thee and go home in peace.

CLIFFORD.
 * What say ye, countrymen? will ye relent
 * And yield to mercy whilst 't is offer'd you,
 * Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths?
 * Who loves the king and will embrace his pardon,
 * Fling up his cap, and say 'God save his Majesty!'
 * Who hateth him and honours not his father,
 * Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake,
 * Shake he his weapon at us and pass by.

ALL.
 * God save the king! God save the king!

CADE.
 * What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so brave?—
 * And you, base peasants, do ye believe him? will you needs be
 * hang'd with your about your necks? Hath my sword therefore
 * broke through London gates, that you should leave me at the
 * White Hart in Southwark? I thought ye would never have given
 * out these arms till you had recovered your ancient freedom;
 * but you are all recreants and dastards, and delight to live in
 * slavery to the nobility. Let them break your backs with burthens,
 * take your houses over your heads, ravish your wives and daughters
 * before your faces. For me, I will make shift for one; and so,
 * God's curse light upon you all!

ALL.
 * We'll follow Cade, we'll follow Cade!

CLIFFORD.
 * Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth,
 * That thus you do exclaim you'll go with him?
 * Will he conduct you through the heart of France,
 * And make the meanest of you earls and dukes?
 * Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to;
 * Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil,
 * Unless by robbing of your friends and us.
 * Were 't not a shame that whilst you live at jar
 * The fearful French, whom you late vanquished,
 * Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you?
 * Methinks already in this civil broil
 * I see them lording it in London streets,
 * Crying 'Villiaco!' unto all they meet.
 * Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry
 * Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy.
 * To France, to France, and get what you have lost;
 * Spare England, for it is your native coast.
 * Henry hath money, you are strong and manly;
 * God on our side, doubt not of victory.

ALL.
 * A Clifford! a Clifford! we'll follow the king and
 * Clifford.

CADE.
 * Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro as this
 * multitude? The name of Henry the Fifth hales them to an hundred
 * mischiefs and makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay their
 * heads together to surprise me. My sword make way for me, for
 * here is no staying.—In despite of the devils and hell, have
 * through the very middest of you! and heavens and honour be
 * witness
 * that no want of resolution in me, but only my followers' base and
 * ignominious treasons, makes me betake me to my heels.

[Exit.]

BUCKINGHAM.
 * What, is he fled?—Go some, and follow him;
 * And he that brings his head unto the king
 * Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward.—

[Exeunt some of them.]


 * Follow me, soldiers; we'll devise a mean
 * To reconcile you all unto the king.

[Exeunt.]

SCENE IX. Kenilworth Castle.
[Sound trumpets. Enter KING, QUEEN, and SOMERSET, on the terrace.]

KING.
 * Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne,
 * And could command no more content than I?
 * No sooner was I crept out of my cradle
 * But I was made a king at nine months old.
 * Was never subject long'd to be a king
 * As I do long and wish to be a subject.

[Enter BUCKINGHAM and old CLIFFORD.]

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Health and glad tidings to your majesty!

KING.
 * Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surpris'd?
 * Or is he but retir'd to make him strong?

[Enter, below, multitudes with halters about their necks.]

CLIFFORD.
 * He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield,
 * And humbly thus, with halters on their necks,
 * Expect your highness' doom, of life or death.

KING.
 * Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates,
 * To entertain my vows of thanks and praise!—
 * Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives
 * And show'd how well you love your prince and country.
 * Continue still in this so good a mind,
 * And Henry, though he be infortunate,
 * Assure yourselves, will never be unkind.
 * And so, with thanks and pardon to you all,
 * I do dismiss you to your several countries.

ALL.
 * God save the king! God save the king!

[Enter a Messenger.]

MESSENGER.
 * Please it your grace to be advertised
 * The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland,
 * And with a puissant and a mighty power
 * Of gallowglasses and stout kerns
 * Is marching hitherward in proud array,
 * And still proclaimeth, as he comes along,
 * His arms are only to remove from thee
 * The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor.

KING.
 * Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York distress'd,
 * Like to a ship that, having scap'd a tempest,
 * Is straightway calm'd and boarded with a pirate;
 * But now is Cade driven back, his men dispers'd,
 * And now is York in arms to second him.—
 * I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him,
 * And ask him wha t's the reason of these arms.
 * Tell him I'll send Duke Edmund to the Tower;—
 * And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither,
 * Until his army be dismiss'd from him.

SOMERSET.
 * My lord,
 * I'll yield myself to prison willingly,
 * Or unto death, to do my country good.

KING.
 * In any case, be not too rough in terms,
 * For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * I will, my lord, and doubt not so to deal
 * As all things shall redound unto your good.

KING.
 * Come, wife, let's in, and learn to govern better;
 * For yet may England curse my wretched reign.

[Flourish. Exeunt.]

SCENE X. Kent. Iden's Garden.
[Enter CADE.]

CADE.
 * Fie on ambitions! fie on myself, that have a sword
 * and yet am ready to famish! These five days have I hid me in
 * these woods and durst not peep out, for all the country is laid
 * for me; but now am I so hungry that if I might have a lease of
 * my life for a thousand years I could stay no longer. Wherefore,
 * on a brick wall have I climb'd into this garden, to see if I can
 * eat grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is not amiss to
 * cool
 * a man's stomach this hot weather. And I think this word 'sallet'
 * was born to do me good; for many a time, but for a sallet, my
 * brain-pain had been cleft with a brown bill; and many a time,
 * when I have been dry and bravely marching, it hath served me
 * instead of a quart pot to drink in; and now the word 'sallet'
 * must serve me to feed on.

[Enter IDEN.]

IDEN.
 * Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court,
 * And may enjoy such quiet walks as these?
 * This small inheritance my father left me
 * Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy.
 * I seek not to wax great by others' waning,
 * Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy;
 * Sufficeth that I have maintains my state
 * And sends the poor well pleased from my gate.

CADE.
 * Here's the lord of the soil come to seize me for a
 * stray, for entering his fee-simple without leave.—Ah, villain,
 * thou wilt betray me, and get a thousand crowns of the king
 * by carrying my head to him; but I'll make thee eat iron like
 * an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a great pin, ere thou
 * and I part.

IDEN.
 * Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, I know
 * thee not! why, then, should I betray thee?
 * Is 't not enough to break into my garden,
 * And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds,
 * Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner,
 * But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms?

CADE.
 * Brave thee? ay, by the best blood that ever was
 * broached, and beard thee too. Look on me well: I have eat
 * no meat these five days; yet, come thou and thy five men,
 * and if I do not leave you all as dead as a door-nail, I pray
 * God I may never eat grass more.

IDEN.
 * Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands,
 * That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent,
 * Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man.
 * Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine,
 * See if thou canst outface me with thy looks.
 * Set limb to limb and thou art far the lesser;
 * Thy hand is but a finger to my fist,
 * Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon;
 * My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast;
 * And if mine arm be heaved in the air,
 * Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth.
 * As for words, whose greatness answers words,
 * Let this my sword report what speech forbears.

CADE.
 * By my valour, the most complete champion that
 * ever I heard!—Steel, if thou turn the edge, or cut not out
 * the burly-boned clown in chines of beef ere thou sleep in
 * thy sheath, I beseech God on my knees thou mayst be turn'd
 * to hobnails.—[Here they fight. Cade falls.] O, I am slain!
 * famine and no other hath slain me; let ten thousand devils
 * come against me, and give me but the ten meals I have lost,
 * and I'd defy them all.—Wither, garden; and be henceforth a
 * burying place to all that do dwell in this house, because
 * the unconquered soul of Cade is fled.

IDEN.
 * Is't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor?—
 * Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed,
 * And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead;
 * Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point,
 * But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat,
 * To emblaze the honour that thy master got.

CADE.
 * Iden, farewell; and be proud of thy victory. Tell Kent from
 * me, she hath lost her best man, and exhort all the world to be
 * cowards; for I, that never feared any, am vanquished by famine,
 * not by valour.

[Dies.]

IDEN.
 * How much thou wrong'st me, heaven be my judge.
 * Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare thee;
 * And as I thrust thy body in with my sword,
 * So wish I I might thrust thy soul to hell.
 * Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels
 * Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave,
 * And there cut off thy most ungracious head,
 * Which I will bear in triumph to the king,
 * Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon.

[Exit.]

SCENE I. Fields between Dartford and Blackheath.
[Enter YORK, and his army of Irish, with drum and colours.]

YORK.
 * From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right,
 * And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head.
 * Ring, bells, aloud; burn, bonfires, clear and bright,
 * To entertain great England's lawful king.
 * Ah! sancta majestas! who would not buy thee dear?
 * Let them obey that knows not how to rule;
 * This hand was made to handle nought but gold.
 * I cannot give due action to my words
 * Except a sword or sceptre balance it.
 * A sceptre shall it have, have I a soul,
 * On which I'll toss the flower-de-luce of France.—

[Enter BUCKINGHAM.]


 * Whom have we here? Buckingham, to disturb me?
 * The king hath sent him, sure: I must dissemble.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well.

YORK.
 * Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
 * Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure?

BUCKINGHAM.
 * A messenger from Henry, our dread liege,
 * To know the reason of these arms in peace;
 * Or why thou, being a subject as I am,
 * Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn,
 * Should raise so great a power without his leave,
 * Or dare to bring thy force so near the court.

YORK.
 * [Aside.] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great:
 * O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint,
 * I am so angry at these abject terms;
 * And now, like Ajax Telamonius,
 * On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury.
 * I am far better born than is the king,
 * More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts;
 * But I must make fair weather yet a while,
 * Till Henry be more weak and I more strong.—
 * Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me,
 * That I have given no answer all this while;
 * My mind was troubled with deep melancholy.
 * The cause why I have brought this army hither
 * Is to remove proud Somerset from the king,
 * Seditious to his grace and to the state.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * That is too much presumption on thy part;
 * But if thy arms be to no other end,
 * The king hath yielded unto thy demand.
 * The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower.

YORK.
 * Upon thine honour, is he prisoner?

BUCKINGHAM.
 * Upon mine honour, he is prisoner.

YORK.
 * Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers.—
 * Soldiers, I thank you all; disperse yourselves;
 * Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field,
 * You shall have pay and everything you wish.—
 * And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry,
 * Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons,
 * As pledges of my fealty and love,
 * I'll send them all as willing as I live;
 * Lands, goods, horse, armour, anything I have,
 * Is his to use, so Somerset may die.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * York, I commend this kind submission;
 * We twain will go into his highness' tent.

[Enter KING and Attendants.]

KING.
 * Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us,
 * That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm?

YORK.
 * In all submission and humility
 * York doth present himself unto your highness.

KING.
 * Then what intends these forces thou dost bring?

YORK.
 * To heave the traitor Somerset from hence,
 * And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade,
 * Who since I heard to be discomfited.

[Enter IDEN, with CADE's head.]

IDEN.
 * If one so rude and of so mean condition
 * May pass into the presence of a king,
 * Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head,
 * The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew.

KING.
 * The head of Cade!—Great God, how just art Thou!—
 * O, let me view his visage, being dead,
 * That living wrought me such exceeding trouble.
 * Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him?

IDEN.
 * I was, an 't like your majesty.

KING.
 * How art thou call'd? and what is thy degree?

IDEN.
 * Alexander Iden, that's my name;
 * A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king.

BUCKINGHAM.
 * So please it you, my lord, 't were not amiss
 * He were created knight for his good service.

KING.
 * Iden, kneel down. [He kneels.] Rise up a knight.
 * We give thee for reward a thousand marks,
 * And will that thou thenceforth attend on us.

IDEN.
 * May Iden live to merit such a bounty,
 * And never live but true unto his liege!

[Rises.]

[Enter QUEEN and SOMERSET.]

KING.
 * See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen.
 * Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke.

QUEEN.
 * For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head,
 * But boldly stand and front him to his face.

YORK.
 * How now! is Somerset at liberty?
 * Then, York, unloose thy long-imprisoned thoughts,
 * And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart.
 * Shall I endure the sight of Somerset?
 * False king! why hast thou broken faith with me,
 * Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse?
 * King did I call thee? no, thou art not king,
 * Not fit to govern and rule multitudes,
 * Which dar'st not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor.
 * That head of thine doth not become a crown;
 * Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff,
 * And not to grace an awful princely sceptre.
 * That gold must round engirt these brows of mine,
 * Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear,
 * Is able with the change to kill and cure.
 * Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up
 * And with the same to act controlling laws.
 * Give place; by heaven, thou shalt rule no more
 * O'er him whom heaven created for thy ruler.

SOMERSET.
 * O monstrous traitor!—I arrest thee, York,
 * Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown.
 * Obey, audacious traitor; kneel for grace.

YORK.
 * Wouldst have me kneel? first let me ask of these
 * If they can brook I bow a knee to man.—
 * Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail.—

[Exit Attendant.]


 * I know, ere thy will have me go to ward,
 * They'll pawn their swords for my enfranchisement.

QUEEN.
 * Call hither Clifford; bid him come amain,
 * To say if that the bastard boys of York
 * Shall be the surety for their traitor father.

[Exit Buckingham.]

YORK.
 * O blood-bespotted Neapolitan,
 * Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge!
 * The sons of York, thy betters in their birth,
 * Shall be their father's bail; and bane to those
 * That for my surety will refuse the boys!

[Enter EDWARD and RICHARD.]


 * See where they come; I'll warrant they'll make it good.

[Enter old CLIFFORD and his SON.]

QUEEN.
 * And here comes Clifford to deny their bail.

CLIFFORD.
 * Health and all happiness to my lord the king!

[Kneels.]

YORK.
 * I thank thee, Clifford; say, what news with thee?
 * Nay, do not fright us with an angry look.
 * We are thy sovereign, Clifford, kneel again;
 * For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee.

CLIFFORD.
 * This is my king, York, I do not mistake;
 * But thou mistakes me much to think I do.—
 * To Bedlam with him! is the man grown mad?

KING.
 * Ay, Clifford; a bedlam and ambitious humour
 * Makes him oppose himself against his king.

CLIFFORD.
 * He is a traitor; let him to the Tower,
 * And chop away that factious pate of his.

QUEEN.
 * He is arrested, but will not obey;
 * His sons, he says, shall give their words for him.

YORK.
 * Will you not, sons?

EDWARD.
 * Ay, noble father, if our words will serve.

RICHARD.
 * And if words will not, then our weapons shall.

CLIFFORD.
 * Why, what a brood of traitors have we here!

YORK.
 * Look in a glass, and call thy image so;
 * I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor.—
 * Call hither to the stake my two brave bears,
 * That with the very shaking of their chains
 * They may astonish these fell-lurking curs.
 * Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me.

[Enter the EARLS OF WARWICK and SALISBURY.]

CLIFFORD.
 * Are these thy bears? we'll bait thy bears to death,
 * And manacle the bear-herd in their chains,
 * If thou dar'st bring them to the baiting-place.

RICHARD.
 * Oft have I seen a hot o'erweening cur
 * Run back and bite because he was withheld,
 * Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw,
 * Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried;
 * And such a piece of service will you do
 * If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick.

CLIFFORD.
 * Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump,
 * As crooked in thy manners as thy shape!

YORK.
 * Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon.

CLIFFORD.
 * Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves.

KING.
 * Why, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow?—
 * Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair,
 * Thou mad misleader of thy brainsick son!
 * What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian,
 * And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles?
 * O, where is faith? O, where is loyalty?
 * If it be banish'd from the frosty head,
 * Where shall it find a harbour in the earth?
 * Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war,
 * And shame thine honourable age with blood?
 * Why art thou old, and want'st experience?
 * Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it?
 * For shame! in duty bend thy knee to me
 * That bows unto the grave with mickle age.

SALISBURY.
 * My lord, I have consider'd with myself
 * The tide of this most renowned duke,
 * And in my conscience do repute his grace
 * The rightful heir to England's royal seat.

KING.
 * Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me?

SALISBURY.
 * I have.

KING.
 * Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath?

SALISBURY.
 * It is great sin to swear unto a sin,
 * But greater sin to keep a sinful oath.
 * Who can be bound by any solemn vow
 * To do a murtherous deed, to rob a man,
 * To force a spotless virgin's chastity,
 * To reave the orphan of his patrimony,
 * To wring the widow from her custom'd right,
 * And have no other reason for this wrong
 * But that he was bound by a solemn oath?

QUEEN.
 * A subtle traitor needs no sophister.

KING.
 * Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself.

YORK.
 * Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast,
 * I am resolv'd for death or dignity.

CLIFFORD.
 * The first I warrant thee if dreams prove true.

WARWICK.
 * You were best to go to bed and dream again,
 * To keep thee from the tempest of the field.

CLIFFORD.
 * I am resolv'd to bear a greater storm
 * Than any thou canst conjure up to-day;
 * And that I'll write upon thy burgonet,
 * Might I but know thee by thy household badge.

WARWICK.
 * Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest,
 * The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff,
 * This day I'll wear aloft my burgonet,
 * As on a mountain top the cedar shows
 * That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm,
 * Even to affright thee with the view thereof.

CLIFFORD.
 * And from thy burgonet I'll rend thy bear
 * And tread it under foot with all contempt,
 * Despite the bear-herd that protects the bear.

YOUNG CLIFFORD.
 * And so to arms, victorious father,
 * To quell the rebels and their complices.

RICHARD.
 * Fie! charity, for shame! speak not in spite,
 * For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night.

YOUNG CLIFFORD.
 * Foul stigmatic, that's more than thou canst
 * tell.


 * RICHARD.
 * If not in heaven, you'll surely sup in hell.

[Exeunt severally.]

SCENE II. Saint Alban's.
[Alarums to the battle. Enter WARWICK.]

WARWICK.
 * Clifford of Cumberland, 't is Warwick calls;
 * And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear,
 * Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum
 * And dead men's cries do fill the empty air,
 * Clifford, I say, come forth and fight with me!
 * Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland,
 * Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms.—

[Enter YORK.]


 * How now, my noble lord! what, all afoot?

YORK.
 * The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed,
 * But match to match I have encount'red him,
 * And made a prey for carrion kites and crows
 * Even of the bonny beast he lov'd so well.

[Enter old CLIFFORD.]

WARWICK.
 * Of one or both of us the time is come.

YORK.
 * Hold, Warwick, seek thee out some other chase,
 * For I myself must hunt this deer to death.

WARWICK.
 * Then, nobly, York; 't is for a crown thou fight'st.—
 * As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day,
 * It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd.

[Exit.]

CLIFFORD.
 * What seest thou in me, York? why dost thou pause?

YORK.
 * With thy brave bearing should I be in love
 * But that thou art so fast mine enemy.

CLIFFORD.
 * Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem
 * But that 't is shown ignobly and in treason.

YORK.
 * So let it help me now against thy sword
 * As I in justice and true right express it!

CLIFFORD.
 * My soul and body on the action both!

YORK.
 * A dreadful lay!—Address thee instantly.

[They fight, and Clifford falls.]

CLIFFORD.
 * La fin couronne les oeuvres.

[Dies.]

YORK.
 * Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still.
 * Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will!

[Exit.]

[Enter young CLIFFORD.]

YOUNG CLIFFORD.
 * Shame and confusion! all is on the rout;
 * Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds
 * Where it should guard.—O war, thou son of hell,
 * Whom angry heavens do make their minister,
 * Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part
 * Hot coals of vengeance!—Let no soldier fly.
 * He that is truly dedicate to war
 * Hath no self-love; nor he that loves himself
 * Hath not essentially but by circumstance
 * The name of valour.—[Seeing his dead father.]
 * O, let the vile world end,
 * And the premised flames of the last day
 * Knit earth and heaven together!
 * Now let the general trumpet blow his blast,
 * Particularities and petty sounds
 * To cease!—Wast thou ordain'd, dear father,
 * To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve
 * The silver livery of advised age,
 * And in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus
 * To die in ruffian battle?—Even at this sight
 * My heart is turn'd to stone; and while 't is mine
 * It shall be stony. York not our old men spares;
 * No more will I their babes; tears virginal
 * Shall be to me even as the dew to fire,
 * And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims
 * Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax.
 * Henceforth I will not have to do with pity;
 * Meet I an infant of the house of York,
 * Into as many gobbets will I cut it
 * As wild Medea young Absyrtus did.
 * In cruelty will I seek out my fame.—
 * Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house:
 * As did Aeneas old Anchises bear,
 * So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders;
 * But then Aeneas bare a living load,
 * Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine.

[Exit, bearing off his father. Enter RICHARD and SOMERSET to fight. SOMERSET is killed.]

RICHARD.
 * So, lie thou there;
 * For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign,
 * The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset
 * Hath made the wizard famous in his death.
 * Sword, hold thy temper; heart, be wrathful still;
 * Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill.

[Exit.]

[Fight: excursions. Enter KING, QUEEN, and others.]

QUEEN.
 * Away, my lord! you are slow; for shame, away!

KING HENRY.
 * Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay.

QUEEN.
 * What are you made of? you'll nor fight nor fly;
 * Now is it manhood, wisdom, and defence,
 * To give the enemy way, and to secure us
 * By what we can, which can no more but fly.

[Alarum afar off.]


 * If you be ta'en, we then should see the bottom
 * Of all our fortunes; but if we haply scape,
 * As well we may, if not through your neglect,
 * We shall to London get, where you are lov'd,
 * And where this breach now in our fortunes made
 * May readily be stopp'd.

[Enter young CLIFFORD.]

YOUNG CLIFFORD.
 * But that my heart's on future mischief set,
 * I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly.
 * But fly you must; uncurable discomfit
 * Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts.
 * Away, for your relief! and we will live
 * To see their day and them our fortune give.
 * Away, my lord, away!

[Exeunt.]

SCENE III. Fields near Saint Alban's.
[Alarum. Retreat. Enter YORK, RICHARD, WARWICK, and Soldiers, with drum and colours.]

YORK.
 * Of Salisbury, who can report of him,
 * That winter lion, who in rage forgets
 * Aged contusions and all brush of time
 * And, like a gallant in the brow of youth,
 * Repairs him with occasion? This happy day
 * Is not itself, nor have we won one foot,
 * If Salisbury be lost.

RICHARD.
 * My noble father,
 * Three times to-day I holp him to his horse,
 * Three times bestrid him; thrice I led him off,
 * Persuaded him from any further act;
 * But still, where danger was, still there I met him;
 * And like rich hangings in a homely house,
 * So was his will in his old feeble body.
 * But, noble as he is, look where he comes.

[Enter SALISBURY.]

SALISBURY.
 * Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day;
 * By the mass, so did we all.—I thank you, Richard;
 * God knows how long it is I have to live,
 * And it hath pleas'd him that three times to-day
 * You have defended me from imminent death.—
 * Well, lords, we have not got that which we have;
 * 'T is not enough our foes are this time fled,
 * Being opposites of such repairing nature.

YORK.
 * I know our safety is to follow them;
 * For, as I hear, the king is fled to London,
 * To call a present court of parliament.
 * Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth.—
 * What says Lord Warwick? shall we after them?

WARWICK.
 * After them! nay, before them, if we can.
 * Now, by my hand, lords, 'twas a glorious day;
 * Saint Alban's battle won by famous York
 * Shall be eterniz'd in all age to come.—
 * Sound drums and trumpets!—and to London all;
 * And more such days as these to us befall!

[Exeunt.]