The second Part of Henry the Sixt.Yorke.My Lord of Suffolke, within foureteene dayes
[1530]
At Bristow I expect my Souldiers,For there Ile shippe them all for Ireland.Suff.Ile see it truly done, my Lord of Yorke.Exeunt.Manet Yorke.Yorke.Now
Yorke, or neuer, steele thy fearfull thoughts,
And change misdoubt to resolution;
[1535]
Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art;Resigne to death, it is not worth th'enioying:Let pale‑fac't feare, keepe with the meane‑borne man,And finde no harbor in a Royall heart.Faster
thē
them Spring‑time showres, comes thoght on thoght,
[1540]
And not a thought, but thinkes on Dignitie.My Brayne, more busie then the laboring Spider,Weaues tedious Snares to trap mine Enemies.Well Nobles, well: 'tis politikely done,To send me packing with an Hoast of men:
[1545]
I feare me, you but warme the starued Snake,Who cherisht in your breasts, will sting your hearts.'Twas men I lackt, and you will giue them me;I take it kindly: yet be well assur'd,You put sharpe Weapons in a mad‑mans hands.
[1550]
Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mightie Band,I will stirre up in England some black storme,Shall blowe ten thousand Soules to Heauen, or Hell:And this fell Tempest shall not cease to rage,Vntill the Golden Circuit on my Head,
[1555]
Like to the glorious Sunnes transparant Beames,Doe calme the furie of this mad‑bred Flawe.And for a minister of my intent,I haue seduc'd a head‑strong Kentishman,Iohn Cade of Ashford,
[1560]
To make Commotion, as full well he can,Vnder the Title of
Iohn Mortimer.
In Ireland haue I seene this stubborne
CadeOppose himselfe against a Troupe of Kernes,And fought so long, till that his thighes with Darts
[1565]
Were almost like a sharpe‑quill'd Porpentine:And in the end being rescued, I haue seeneHim capre vpright, like a wilde Morisco,Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.Full often, like a shag‑hayr'd craftie Kerne,
[1570]
Hath he conuersed with the Enemie,And vndiscouer'd, come to me againe,And giuen me notice of their Villanies.This Deuill here shall be my substitute;For that
Iohn Mortimer, which now is dead,
[1575]
In face, in gate, in speech he doth resemble.By this, I shall perceiue the Commons minde,How they affect the House and Clayme of
Yorke.
Say he be taken, rackt, and tortured;I know, no paine they can inflict vpon him,
[1580]
Will make him say, I mou'd him to those Armes.Say that he thriue, as 'tis great like he will,Why then from Ireland come I with my strength,And reape the Haruest which that Rascall sow'd.For
Humfrey; being dead, as he shall be,
[1585]
And
Henry put apart: the next for me.
Exit.
[Act 3, Scene 2]
Enter two or three running ouer the Stage, from the
Murther of Duke Humfrey.
1.Runne to my Lord of Suffolke: let him knowWe haue dispatcht the Duke, as he commanded.2.Oh, that it were to doe: what haue we done?Didst euer heare a man so penitent?Enter Suffolke.1.
Suff.Now Sirs, haue you dispatcht this thing?1.I, my good Lord, hee's dead.Suff.Why that's well said. Goe, get you to my House,I will reward you for this venturous deed:
[1595]
The King and all the Peeres are here at hand.Haue you layd faire the Bed? Is all things well,According as I gaue directions?1.'Tis, my good Lord.Suff.
Away, begone.
Exeunt.Sound Trumpets. Enter the King, the Queene,
Cardinall, Suffolke, Somerset, with
Attendants.
King.
[1600]
Goe call our Vnckle to our presence straight:Say, we intend to try his Grace to day,If he be guiltie, as 'tis published.Suff.Ile call him presently, my Noble Lord.Exit.King.Lords take your places: and I pray you all
[1605]
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our Vnckle
Gloster,
Then from true euidence, of good esteeme,He be approu'd in practise culpable.Queene.God forbid any Malice should preuayle,That faultlesse may condemne a Noble man:
[1610]
Pray God he may acquit him of suspition.King.I thanke thee
Nell, these wordes content mee
much.
Enter Suffolke.How now? why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?Where is our Vnckle? what's the matter,
Suffolke?Suff.Dead in his Bed, my Lord:
Gloster is dead.
Queene.
[1615]
Marry God forfend.Card.Gods secret Iudgement: I did dreame to Night,The Duke was dumbe, and could not speake a word.
[Act 3, Scene 3]
King sounds.Qu.How fares my Lord? Helpe Lords, the King is
dead.
Som.Rere vp his Body, wring him by the Nose.Qu.
[1620]
Runne, goe, helpe, helpe: Oh
Henry ope thine eyes.
Suff.He doth reuiue againe, Madame be patient.King.Oh Heauenly God.Qu.How fares my gracious Lord?Suff.Comfort my Soueraigne, gracious
Henry com
fort.
King.
[1625]
What, doth my Lord of Suffolke comfort me?Came he right now to sing a Rauens Note,Whose dismall tune bereft my Vitall powres:And thinkes he, that the chirping of a Wren,By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
[1630]
Can chafe away the first‑conceiued sound?Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words,Lay not thy hands on me: forbeare I say,Their touch affrights me as a Serpents sting.Thou balefull Messenger, out of my fight:
[1635]
Vpon thy eye‑balls, murderous TyrannieSits in grim Maiestie, to fright the World.Looke not vpon me, for thine eyes are wounding;Yet doe not goe away: come Basiliske,And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
[1640]
For in the shade of death, I shall finde ioy;In life, but double death, now
Gloster's dead.
Queene.Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus?Although the Duke was enemie to him,Yet he most Christian‑like laments his death:
[1645]
And for my selfe, Foe as he was to me,Might liquid teares, or heart‑offending groanes,Or blood‑consuming sighes recall his Life;n3I
[Act 3, Scene 3]
King sounds.Qu.How fares my Lord? Helpe Lords, the King is
dead.
Som.Rere vp his Body, wring him by the Nose.Qu.
[1620]
Runne, goe, helpe, helpe: Oh
Henry ope thine eyes.
Suff.He doth reuiue againe, Madame be patient.King.Oh Heauenly God.Qu.How fares my gracious Lord?Suff.Comfort my Soueraigne, gracious
Henry com
fort.
King.
[1625]
What, doth my Lord of Suffolke comfort me?Came he right now to sing a Rauens Note,Whose dismall tune bereft my Vitall powres:And thinkes he, that the chirping of a Wren,By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
[1630]
Can chafe away the first‑conceiued sound?Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words,Lay not thy hands on me: forbeare I say,Their touch affrights me as a Serpents sting.Thou balefull Messenger, out of my fight:
[1635]
Vpon thy eye‑balls, murderous TyrannieSits in grim Maiestie, to fright the World.Looke not vpon me, for thine eyes are wounding;Yet doe not goe away: come Basiliske,And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
[1640]
For in the shade of death, I shall finde ioy;In life, but double death, now
Gloster's dead.
Queene.Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus?Although the Duke was enemie to him,Yet he most Christian‑like laments his death:
[1645]
And for my selfe, Foe as he was to me,Might liquid teares, or heart‑offending groanes,Or blood‑consuming sighes recall his Life;I would be blinde with weeping, sicke with grones,Looke pale as Prim‑rose with blood‑drinking sighes,
[1650]
And all to haue the Noble Duke aliue.What know I how the world may deeme of me?For it is knowne we were but hollow Friends:It may be iudg'd I made the Duke away,So shall my name with Slanders tongue be wounded,
[1655]
And Princes Courts be fill'd with my reproach:This get I by his death: Aye me vnhappie,To be a Queene, and Crown'd with infamie.King.Ah woe is me for Gloster, wretched man.Queen.Be woe for me, more wretched then he is.
[1660]
What, Dost thou turne away, and hide thy face?I am no loathsome Leaper, looke on me.What? Art thou like the Adder waxen deafe?Be poysonous too, and kill thy forlorne Queene.Is all thy comfort shut in Glosters Tombe?
[1665]
Why then Dame
Elianor was neere thy ioy.
Erect his statue, and worship it,And make my Image but an Ale‑house signe.Was I for this nye wrack'd vpon the Sea,And twice by aukward winde from Englands banke
[1670]
Droue backe againe vnto my Natiue Clime.What boaded this? but well fore‑warning windeDid seeme to say, seeke not a Scorpions Nest,Nor set no footing on this vnkinde Shore.What did I then? But curst the gentle gusts,
[1675]
And he that loos'd them forth their Brazen Caues,And bid them blow towards Englands blessed shore,Or turne our sterne vpon a dreadfull Rocke:Yet Æolus would not be a murtherer,But left that hatefull office vnto thee.
[1680]
The pretty vaulting Sea refus'd to drowne me,Knowing that thou wouldst haue me drown'd on shoreWith teares as salt as Sea, through thy vnkindnesse.The splitting Rockes cowr'd in the sinking sands,And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
[1685]
Because thy flinty heart more hard then they,Might in thy Pallace, perish
Elianor.
As farre as I could ken thy Chalky Cliffes,When from thy Shore, the Tempest beate vs backe,I stood vpon the Hatches in the storme:
[1690]
And when the duskie sky, began to robMy earnest‑gaping‑sight of thy Lands view,I tooke a costly Iewell from my necke,A Hart it was bound in with Diamonds,And threw it towards thy Land: The Sea receiu'd it,
[1695]
And so I wish'd thy body might my Heart:And euen with this, I lost faire Englands view,And bid mine eyes be packing with my Heart,And call'd them blinde and duskie Spectacles,For loosing ken of
Albions wished Coast.
[1700]
How often haue I tempted Suffolkes tongue(The agent of thy foule inconstancie)To sit and watch me as
Ascanius did,
When he to madding
Dido would vnfold
His Fathers Acts, commenc'd in burning Troy.
[1705]
Am I not witcht like her? Or thou not false like him
?Aye me, I can no more: Dye
Elinor,
For
Henry weepes, that thou dost liue so long.
Noyse within. Enter Warwicke, and many
Commons.
War.It is reported, mighty Soueraigne,That good Duke
Humfrey Traiterously is murdred
[1710]
By Suffolke and the Cardinall
Beaufords meanes:
The Commons like an angry Hiue of BeesThat want their Leader, scatter vp and downe,And care not who they sting in his reuenge.My selfe haue calm'd their spleenfull mutinie,
[1715]
Vntill they heare the order of his death.King.That he is dead good Warwick, 'tis too true,But how he dyed, God knowes, not
Henry:Enter his Chamber, view his breathlesse Corpes,And comment then vpon his sodaine death.War.
[1720]
That shall I do my Liege; Stay SalsburieWith the rude multitude, till I returne.King.O thou that iudgest all things, stay my thoghts:My thoughts, that labour to perswade my soule,Some violent hands were laid on
Humfries life:
[1725]
If my suspect be false, forgiue me God,For iudgement onely doth belong to thee:Faine would I go to chafe his palie lips,With twenty thousand kisses, and to draineVpon his face an Ocean of salt teares,
[1730]
To tell my loue vnto his dumbe deafe trunke,And with my fingers feele his hand, vnfeeling:But all in vaine are these meane Obsequies,Bed put forth.And to suruey his dead and earthy Image:What were it but to make my sorrow greater?Warw.
[1735]
Come hither gracious Soueraigne, view this
body.
King.That is to see how deepe my graue is made,For with his soule fled all my worldly solace:For seeing him, I see my life in death.War.As surely as my soule intends to liue
[1740]
With that dread King that tooke our state vpon him,To free vs from his Fathers wrathfull curse,I do beleeue that violent hands were laidVpon the life of this thrice‑famed Duke.Suf.A dreadfull Oath, sworne with a solemn tongue:
[1745]
What instance giues Lord Warwicke for his vow.War.See how the blood is setled in his face.Oft haue I seene a timely‑parted Ghost,Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodlesse,Being all descended to the labouring heart,
[1750]
Who in the Conflict that it holds with death,Attracts the same for aydance 'gainst the enemy,Which with the heart there cooles, and ne're returneth,To blush and beautifie the Cheeke againe.But see, his face is blacke, and full of blood:
[1755]
His eye‑balles further out, than when he liued,Staring full gastly, like a strangled man:His hayre vprear'd, his nostrils stretcht with strugling:His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasptAnd tugg'd for Life, and was by strength subdude.
[1760]
Looke on the sheets his haire (you see) is sticking,His well proportion'd Beard, made ruffe and rugged,Like to the Summers Corne by Tempest lodged:It cannot be but he was murdred heere,The least of all these signes were probable.Suf.
[1765]
Why Warwicke, who should do the
D.
Duke to death?
My selfe and
Beauford had him in protection,
And we I hope sir, are no murtherers.War.But both of you were vowed
D.
Duke Humfries foes,
And you (forsooth) had the good Duke to keepe:
[1770]
Tis like you would nor feast him like a friend,And 'tis well seene, he found an enemy.Queen.Than you belike suspect these Noblemen,As guilty of Duke
Humfries timelesse death.
Warw.Who finds the Heyfer dead, and bleeding fresh,
[1775]
And sees fast‑by, a Butcher with an Axe,But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter?Who finds the Partridge in the Puttocks Nest,But may imagine how the Bird was dead,Although the Kyte soare with vnbloudied Beake?
[1780]
Euen so suspitious is this Tragedie.Qu.Are you the Butcher,
Suffolk? where's your Knife?
Is
Beauford tearm'd a Kyte? where are his Tallons?
Suff.I weare no Knife, to slaughter sleeping men,But here's a vengefull Sword, rusted with ease,
[1785]
That shall be scowred in his rancorous heart,That slanders me with Murthers Crimson Badge.Say, if thou dar'st, prowd Lord of Warwickshire,That I am faultie in Duke
Humfreyes death.
Warw.What dares not
Warwick, if false
Suffolke dare
him?
Qu.
[1790]
He dares not calme his contumelious Spirit,Nor cease to be an arrogant Controller,Though
Suffolke dare him twentie thousand times.
Warw.Madame be still: with reuerence may I say,For euery word you speake in his behalfe,
[1795]
Is slander to your Royall Dignitie.Suff.Blunt‑witted Lord, ignoble in demeanor,If euer Lady wrong'd her Lord so much,Thy Mother tooke into her blamefull BedSome sterne vntutur'd Churle; and Noble Stock
[1800]
Was graft with Crab‑tree slippe, whose Fruit thou art,And neuer of the
Neuils Noble Race.
Warw.But that the guilt of Murther bucklers thee,And I should rob the Deaths‑man of his Fee,Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
[1805]
And that my Soueraignes presence makes me milde,I would, false murd'rous Coward, on thy KneeMake thee begge pardon for thy passed speech,And say it was thy Mother that thou meant'st,That thou thy selfe wast borne in Bastardie;
[1810]
And after all this fearefull Homage done,Giue thee thy hyre, and send thy Soule to Hell,Pernicious blood‑sucker of sleeping men.Suff.Thou shalt be waking, while I shed thy blood,If from this presence thou dar'st goe with me.Warw.
[1815]
Away euen now, or I will drag thee hence:Vnworthy though thou art, Ile cope with thee,And doe some seruice to Duke
Humfreyes Ghost.
Exeunt.King.What stronger Brest‑plate then a heart vntainted?Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his Quarrell iust;
[1820]
And he but naked, though lockt vp in Steele,Whose Conscience with Iniustice is corrupted.A noyse within.Queene.What noyse is this?Enter Suffolke and Warwicke, with their
Weapons drawne.
King.Why how now Lords?Your wrathfull Weapons drawne,
[1825]
Here in our presence? Dare you be so bold?Why what tumultuous clamor haue we here?Suff.The trayt'rous
Warwick, with the men of Bury,
Set all vpon me, mightie Soueraigne.Enter Salisbury.Salisb.Sirs stand apart, the King shall know your
minde.
[1830]
Dread Lord, the Commons send you word by me,Vnlesse Lord
Suffolke straight be done to death,
Or banished faire Englands Territories,They will by violence teare him from your Pallace,And torture him with grieuous lingring death.
[1835]
They say, by him the good Duke
Humfrey dy'de:
They say, in him they feare your Highnesse death;And meere instinct of Loue and Loyaltie,Free from a stubborne opposite intent,As being thought to contradict your liking,
[1840]
Makes them thus forward in his Banishment.They say, in care of your most Royall Person,That if your Highnesse should intend to sleepe,And charge, that no man should disturbe your rest,In paine of your dislike, or paine of death;
[1845]
Yet notwithstanding such a strait Edict,Were there a Serpent seene, with forked Tongue,That slyly glyded towards yours Maiestie,It were but necessarie you were wak't:Least being suffer'd in that harmefull slumber,
[1850]
The mortall Worme might make the sleepe eternall.And therefore doe they cry, though you forbid,That they will guard you, where you will, or no,From such fell Serpents as false
Suffolke is;
With whose inuenomed and fatall string,
[1855]
Your louing Vnckle, twentie times his worth,They say is shamefully bereft of life.Commons within.An answer from the King, my Lord
of Salisbury.
Suff.'Tis like the Commons, rude vnpolisht Hindes,Could send such Message to their Soueraigne:
[1860]
But you, my Lord, were glad to be imploy'd,To shew how queint an Orator you are.But all the Honor
Salisbury hath wonne,
Is, that he was the Lord Embassador,Sent from a sort of Tinkers to the King.Within.
[1865]
An answer from the King, or wee will all
breake in.
King.Goe
Salisbury, and tell them all from me,
I thanke them for their tender louing care;And had I not beene cited so by them,
[1870]
Yet did I purpose as they doe entreat:For sure, my thoughts doe hourely prophecie,Mischance vnto my State by
Suffolkes meanes.
And therefore by his Maiestie I sweare,Whose farre‑vnworthie Deputie I am,
[1875]
He shall not breathe infection in this ayre,But three dayes longer, on the paine of death.Qu.Oh
Henry, let me pleade for gentle
Suffolke.
King.Vngentle Queene, to call him gentle
Suffolke.
No more I say: if thou do'st pleade for him,
[1880]
Thou wilt but adde encrease vnto my Wrath.Had I but sayd, I would haue kept my Word;But when I sweare, it is irreuocable:If after three dayes space thou here bee'st found,On any ground that I am Ruler of,
[1885]
The World shall not be Ransome for thy Life.Come
Warwicke, come good
Warwicke, goe with mee,
I haue great matters to impart to thee.Exit.Qu.Mischance and Sorrow goe along with you,Hearts Discontent, and sowre Affliction,
[1890]
Be play‑fellowes to keepe you companie:There's two of you, the Deuill make a third,And three‑fold Vengeance tend vpon your steps.Suff.Cease, gentle Queene, these Execrations,And let thy
Suffolke take his heauie leaue.
Queen.
[1895]
Fye Coward woman, and soft harted wretch,Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy.Suf.A plague vpon them: wherefore should I cursse
them?
Would curses kill, as doth the Mandrakes grone,I would inuent as bitter searching termes,
[1900]
As curst, as harsh, and horrible to heare,Deliuer'd strongly through my fixed teeth,With full as many signes of deadly hate,As leane‑fac'd enuy in her loathsome caue.My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words,
[1905]
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten Flint,Mine haire be fixt an end, as one distract:I, euery ioynt should seeme to curse and ban,And euen now my burthen'd heart would breakeShould I not curse them. Poyson be their drinke.
[1910]
Gall, worse then Gall, the daintiest that they taste:Their sweetest shade, a groue of Cypresse Trees:Their cheefest Prospect, murd'ring Basiliskes:Their softest Touch, as smart as Lyzards stings:Their Musicke, frightfull as the Serpents hisse,
[1915]
And boading Screech‑Owles, make the Consort full.All the foule terrors in darke seated hell›Q.Enough sweet Suffolke, thou torment'st thy selfe,And these dread curses like the Sunne 'gainst glasse,Or like an ouer‑charged Gun, recoile,
[1920]
And turnes the force of them vpon thy selfe.Suf.You bad me ban, and will you bid me leaue?Now by the ground that I am banish'd from,Well could I curse away a Winters night,Though standing naked on a Mountaine top,
[1925]
Where byting cold would neuer let grasse grow,And thinke it but a minute spent in sport.Qu.Oh, let me intreat thee cease, giue me thy hand,That I may dew it with my mournfull tea
e
:
Nor let the raine of heauen wet this place,
[1930]
To wash away my wofull Monuments.Oh, could this kisse be printed in thy hand,That thou might'st thinke vpon these by the Seale,Through whom a thousand sighes are breath'd for thee.So get thee gone, that I may know my greefe,
[1935]
'Tis but surmiz'd, whiles thou art standing by,As one that surfets, thinking on a want:I will repeale thee, or be well assur'd,Aduenture to be banished my selfe:And banished I am, if but from thee.
[1940]
Go, speake not to me; euen now be gone.Oh go not yet. Euen thus, two Friends condemn'd,Embrace, and kisse, and take ten thousand leaues,Loather a hundred times to part then dye;Yet now farewell, and farewell Life with thee.Suf.
[1945]
Thus is poore Suffolke ten times banished,Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.'Tis not the Land I care for, wer't thou thence,A Wildernesse is populous enough,So Suffolke had thy heauenly company:
[1950]
For where thou art, there is the World it selfe,With euery seuerall pleasure in the World:And where thou art not, Desolation.I can no more: Liue thou to ioy thy life;My selfe no ioy in nought, but that thou liu'st.Enter Vaux.Queene.
[1955]
Whether goes
Vaux so fast? What newes I
prethee?
Vaux.To signifie vnto his Maiesty,That Cardinall
Beauford is at point of death:
For sodainly a greeuous sicknesse tooke him,That makes him gaspe, and stare, and catch the aire,
[1960]
Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth.Sometime he talkes, as if Duke
Humfries Ghost
Were by his side: Sometime, he calles the King,And whispers to his pillow, as to him,The secrets of his ouer‑charged soule,
[1965]
And I am sent to tell his Maiestie,That euen now he cries alowd for him.Qu.Go tell this heauy Message to the King.ExitAye me! What is this World? What newes are these
?But wherefore greeue I at an houres poore losse,
[1970]
Omitting Suffolkes exile, my soules Treasure?Why onely Suffolke mourne I not for thee?And with the Southerne clouds, contend in teares?Theirs for the earths encrease, mine for my sorrowes.Now get thee hence, the King thou know'st is comming,
[1975]
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.Suf.If I depart from thee, I cannot liue,And in thy fight to dye, what were it else,But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?Heere could I breath my soule into the ayre,
[1980]
As milde and gentle as the Cradle‑babe,Dying with mothers dugge betweene it's lips.Where from thy fight, I should be raging mad,And cry out for thee to close vp mine eyes:To haue thee with thy lippes to stop my mouth:
[1985]
So should'st thou eyther turne my flying soule,Or I should breathe it so into thy body,And then it liu'd in sweete Elizium.To dye by thee, were but to dye in iest,From thee to dye, were torture more then death:
[1990]
Oh let me stay, befall what may befall.Queen.Away: Though parting be a fretfull corosiue,It is applyed to a deathfull wound.To France sweet Suffolke: Let me heare from thee:For wheresoere thou art in this worlds Globe,
[1995]
Ile haue an
Iris that shall finde thee out.
Suf.I go.Qu.And take my heart with thee.Suf.A Iewell lockt into the wofulst Caske,That euer did containe a thing of worth,
[2000]
Euen as a splitted Barke, so sunder we:This way fall I to death.Qu.This way for me.ExeuntEnter the King, Salisbury, and Warwicke, to the
Cardinal in bed.
King.How fare's my Lord? Speake
Beauford to thy
Soueraigne.
Ca.If thou beest death, Ile giue thee Englands Treasure,
[2005]
Enough to purchase such another Island,So thou wilt let me liue, and feele no paine.King.Ah, what a signe it is of euill life,Where death's approach is seene so terrible.War.Beauford, it is thy Soueraigne speakes to thee.
Beau.
[2010]
Bring me vnto my Triall when you will.Dy'de he not in his bed? Where should he dye?Can I make men liue where they will or no?Oh torture me no more, I will confesse.Aliue againe? Then shew me where he is,
[2015]
Ile giue a thousand pound to looke vpon him.He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.Combe downe his haire; looke, looke, it stands vpright,Like Lime‑twigs set to catch my winged soule:Giue me some drinke, and bid the Apothecarie
[2020]
Bring the strong poyson that I bought of him.King.Oh thou eternall mouer of the heauens,Looke with a gentle eye vpon this Wretch,Oh beate away the busie medling Fiend,That layes strong siege vnto this wretches soule,
[2025]
And from his bosome purge this blacke dispaire.War.See how the pangs of death do make him grin.Sal.Disturbe him not, let him passe peaceably.King.Peace to his soule, if Gods good pleasure be.Lord Card'nall, if thou think'st on heauens blisse,
[2030]
Hold vp thy hand, make signall of thy hope.He dies and makes no signe: Oh God forgiue him.War.So bad a death, argues a monstrous life.King.Forbeare to iudge, for we are sinners all.Close vp his eyes, and draw the Curtaine close,
<?xml version="1.0" encoding="UTF-8"?>
<div type="scene" n="3" rend="notPresent">
<head type="supplied">[Act 3, Scene 3]</head>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">King sounds.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1618">How fares my Lord? Helpe Lords, the King is
<lb/>dead.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-som">
<speaker rend="italic">Som.</speaker>
<l n="1619">Rere vp his Body, wring him by the Nose.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1620">Runne, goe, helpe, helpe: Oh<hi rend="italic">Henry</hi>ope thine eyes.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1621">He doth reuiue againe, Madame be patient.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1622">Oh Heauenly God.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1623">How fares my gracious Lord?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1624">Comfort my Soueraigne, gracious<hi rend="italic">Henry</hi>com
<lb/>fort.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1625">What, doth my Lord of Suffolke comfort me?</l>
<l n="1626">Came he right now to sing a Rauens Note,</l>
<l n="1627">Whose dismall tune bereft my Vitall powres:</l>
<l n="1628">And thinkes he, that the chirping of a Wren,</l>
<l n="1629">By crying comfort from a hollow breast,</l>
<l n="1630">Can chafe away the first‑conceiued sound?</l>
<l n="1631">Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words,</l>
<l n="1632">Lay not thy hands on me: forbeare I say,</l>
<l n="1633">Their touch affrights me as a Serpents sting.</l>
<l n="1634">Thou balefull Messenger, out of my fight:</l>
<l n="1635">Vpon thy eye‑balls, murderous Tyrannie</l>
<l n="1636">Sits in grim Maiestie, to fright the World.</l>
<l n="1637">Looke not vpon me, for thine eyes are wounding;</l>
<l n="1638">Yet doe not goe away: come Basiliske,</l>
<l n="1639">And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:</l>
<l n="1640">For in the shade of death, I shall finde ioy;</l>
<l n="1641">In life, but double death, now<hi rend="italic">Gloster's</hi>dead.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
<l n="1642">Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus?</l>
<l n="1643">Although the Duke was enemie to him,</l>
<l n="1644">Yet he most Christian‑like laments his death:</l>
<l n="1645">And for my selfe, Foe as he was to me,</l>
<l n="1646">Might liquid teares, or heart‑offending groanes,</l>
<l n="1647">Or blood‑consuming sighes recall his Life;</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0490-0.jpg" n="134"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="1648">I would be blinde with weeping, sicke with grones,</l>
<l n="1649">Looke pale as Prim‑rose with blood‑drinking sighes,</l>
<l n="1650">And all to haue the Noble Duke aliue.</l>
<l n="1651">What know I how the world may deeme of me?</l>
<l n="1652">For it is knowne we were but hollow Friends:</l>
<l n="1653">It may be iudg'd I made the Duke away,</l>
<l n="1654">So shall my name with Slanders tongue be wounded,</l>
<l n="1655">And Princes Courts be fill'd with my reproach:</l>
<l n="1656">This get I by his death: Aye me vnhappie,</l>
<l n="1657">To be a Queene, and Crown'd with infamie.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1658">Ah woe is me for Gloster, wretched man.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queen.</speaker>
<l n="1659">Be woe for me, more wretched then he is.</l>
<l n="1660">What, Dost thou turne away, and hide thy face?</l>
<l n="1661">I am no loathsome Leaper, looke on me.</l>
<l n="1662">What? Art thou like the Adder waxen deafe?</l>
<l n="1663">Be poysonous too, and kill thy forlorne Queene.</l>
<l n="1664">Is all thy comfort shut in Glosters Tombe?</l>
<l n="1665">Why then Dame<hi rend="italic">Elianor</hi>was neere thy ioy.</l>
<l n="1666">Erect his statue, and worship it,</l>
<l n="1667">And make my Image but an Ale‑house signe.</l>
<l n="1668">Was I for this nye wrack'd vpon the Sea,</l>
<l n="1669">And twice by aukward winde from Englands banke</l>
<l n="1670">Droue backe againe vnto my Natiue Clime.</l>
<l n="1671">What boaded this? but well fore‑warning winde</l>
<l n="1672">Did seeme to say, seeke not a Scorpions Nest,</l>
<l n="1673">Nor set no footing on this vnkinde Shore.</l>
<l n="1674">What did I then? But curst the gentle gusts,</l>
<l n="1675">And he that loos'd them forth their Brazen Caues,</l>
<l n="1676">And bid them blow towards Englands blessed shore,</l>
<l n="1677">Or turne our sterne vpon a dreadfull Rocke:</l>
<l n="1678">Yet Æolus would not be a murtherer,</l>
<l n="1679">But left that hatefull office vnto thee.</l>
<l n="1680">The pretty vaulting Sea refus'd to drowne me,</l>
<l n="1681">Knowing that thou wouldst haue me drown'd on shore</l>
<l n="1682">With teares as salt as Sea, through thy vnkindnesse.</l>
<l n="1683">The splitting Rockes cowr'd in the sinking sands,</l>
<l n="1684">And would not dash me with their ragged sides,</l>
<l n="1685">Because thy flinty heart more hard then they,</l>
<l n="1686">Might in thy Pallace, perish<hi rend="italic">Elianor</hi>.</l>
<l n="1687">As farre as I could ken thy Chalky Cliffes,</l>
<l n="1688">When from thy Shore, the Tempest beate vs backe,</l>
<l n="1689">I stood vpon the Hatches in the storme:</l>
<l n="1690">And when the duskie sky, began to rob</l>
<l n="1691">My earnest‑gaping‑sight of thy Lands view,</l>
<l n="1692">I tooke a costly Iewell from my necke,</l>
<l n="1693">A Hart it was bound in with Diamonds,</l>
<l n="1694">And threw it towards thy Land: The Sea receiu'd it,</l>
<l n="1695">And so I wish'd thy body might my Heart:</l>
<l n="1696">And euen with this, I lost faire Englands view,</l>
<l n="1697">And bid mine eyes be packing with my Heart,</l>
<l n="1698">And call'd them blinde and duskie Spectacles,</l>
<l n="1699">For loosing ken of<hi rend="italic">Albions</hi>wished Coast.</l>
<l n="1700">How often haue I tempted Suffolkes tongue</l>
<l n="1701">(The agent of thy foule inconstancie)</l>
<l n="1702">To sit and watch me as<hi rend="italic">Ascanius</hi>did,</l>
<l n="1703">When he to madding<hi rend="italic">Dido</hi>would vnfold</l>
<l n="1704">His Fathers Acts, commenc'd in burning Troy.</l>
<l n="1705">Am I not witcht like her? Or thou not false like him<c rend="italic">?</c>
</l>
<l n="1706">Aye me, I can no more: Dye<hi rend="italic">Elinor</hi>,</l>
<l n="1707">For<hi rend="italic">Henry</hi>weepes, that thou dost liue so long.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="mixed">Noyse within. Enter Warwicke, and many
<lb/>Commons.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="1708">It is reported, mighty Soueraigne,</l>
<l n="1709">That good Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfrey</hi>Traiterously is murdred</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="1710">By Suffolke and the Cardinall<hi rend="italic">Beaufords</hi>meanes:</l>
<l n="1711">The Commons like an angry Hiue of Bees</l>
<l n="1712">That want their Leader, scatter vp and downe,</l>
<l n="1713">And care not who they sting in his reuenge.</l>
<l n="1714">My selfe haue calm'd their spleenfull mutinie,</l>
<l n="1715">Vntill they heare the order of his death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1716">That he is dead good Warwick, 'tis too true,</l>
<l n="1717">But how he dyed, God knowes, not<hi rend="italic">Henry:</hi>
</l>
<l n="1718">Enter his Chamber, view his breathlesse Corpes,</l>
<l n="1719">And comment then vpon his sodaine death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="1720">That shall I do my Liege; Stay Salsburie</l>
<l n="1721">With the rude multitude, till I returne.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1722">O thou that iudgest all things, stay my thoghts:</l>
<l n="1723">My thoughts, that labour to perswade my soule,</l>
<l n="1724">Some violent hands were laid on<hi rend="italic">Humfries</hi>life:</l>
<l n="1725">If my suspect be false, forgiue me God,</l>
<l n="1726">For iudgement onely doth belong to thee:</l>
<l n="1727">Faine would I go to chafe his palie lips,</l>
<l n="1728">With twenty thousand kisses, and to draine</l>
<l n="1729">Vpon his face an Ocean of salt teares,</l>
<l n="1730">To tell my loue vnto his dumbe deafe trunke,</l>
<l n="1731">And with my fingers feele his hand, vnfeeling:</l>
<l n="1732">But all in vaine are these meane Obsequies,</l>
<stage rend="italic center" type="business">Bed put forth.</stage>
<l n="1733">And to suruey his dead and earthy Image:</l>
<l n="1734">What were it but to make my sorrow greater?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1735">Come hither gracious Soueraigne, view this
<lb/>body.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1736">That is to see how deepe my graue is made,</l>
<l n="1737">For with his soule fled all my worldly solace:</l>
<l n="1738">For seeing him, I see my life in death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="1739">As surely as my soule intends to liue</l>
<l n="1740">With that dread King that tooke our state vpon him,</l>
<l n="1741">To free vs from his Fathers wrathfull curse,</l>
<l n="1742">I do beleeue that violent hands were laid</l>
<l n="1743">Vpon the life of this thrice‑famed Duke.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1744">A dreadfull Oath, sworne with a solemn tongue:</l>
<l n="1745">What instance giues Lord Warwicke for his vow.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="1746">See how the blood is setled in his face.</l>
<l n="1747">Oft haue I seene a timely‑parted Ghost,</l>
<l n="1748">Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and bloodlesse,</l>
<l n="1749">Being all descended to the labouring heart,</l>
<l n="1750">Who in the Conflict that it holds with death,</l>
<l n="1751">Attracts the same for aydance 'gainst the enemy,</l>
<l n="1752">Which with the heart there cooles, and ne're returneth,</l>
<l n="1753">To blush and beautifie the Cheeke againe.</l>
<l n="1754">But see, his face is blacke, and full of blood:</l>
<l n="1755">His eye‑balles further out, than when he liued,</l>
<l n="1756">Staring full gastly, like a strangled man:</l>
<l n="1757">His hayre vprear'd, his nostrils stretcht with strugling:</l>
<l n="1758">His hands abroad display'd, as one that graspt</l>
<l n="1759">And tugg'd for Life, and was by strength subdude.</l>
<l n="1760">Looke on the sheets his haire (you see) is sticking,</l>
<l n="1761">His well proportion'd Beard, made ruffe and rugged,</l>
<l n="1762">Like to the Summers Corne by Tempest lodged:</l>
<l n="1763">It cannot be but he was murdred heere,</l>
<l n="1764">The least of all these signes were probable.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1765">Why Warwicke, who should do the<choice>
<abbr>D.</abbr>
<expan>Duke</expan>
</choice>to death?</l>
<l n="1766">My selfe and<hi rend="italic">Beauford</hi>had him in protection,</l>
<l n="1767">And we I hope sir, are no murtherers.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="1768">But both of you were vowed<choice>
<abbr>D.</abbr>
<expan>Duke</expan>
</choice>Humfries foes,</l>
<l n="1769">And you (forsooth) had the good Duke to keepe:</l>
<l n="1770">Tis like you would nor feast him like a friend,</l>
<l n="1771">And 'tis well seene, he found an enemy.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queen.</speaker>
<l n="1772">Than you belike suspect these Noblemen,</l>
<l n="1773">As guilty of Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfries</hi>timelesse death.</l>
</sp>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0491-0.jpg" n="135"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1774">Who finds the Heyfer dead, and bleeding fresh,</l>
<l n="1775">And sees fast‑by, a Butcher with an Axe,</l>
<l n="1776">But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter?</l>
<l n="1777">Who finds the Partridge in the Puttocks Nest,</l>
<l n="1778">But may imagine how the Bird was dead,</l>
<l n="1779">Although the Kyte soare with vnbloudied Beake?</l>
<l n="1780">Euen so suspitious is this Tragedie.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1781">Are you the Butcher,<hi rend="italic">Suffolk</hi>? where's your Knife?</l>
<l n="1782">Is<hi rend="italic">Beauford</hi>tearm'd a Kyte? where are his Tallons?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1783">I weare no Knife, to slaughter sleeping men,</l>
<l n="1784">But here's a vengefull Sword, rusted with ease,</l>
<l n="1785">That shall be scowred in his rancorous heart,</l>
<l n="1786">That slanders me with Murthers Crimson Badge.</l>
<l n="1787">Say, if thou dar'st, prowd Lord of Warwickshire,</l>
<l n="1788">That I am faultie in Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfreyes</hi>death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1789">What dares not<hi rend="italic">Warwick</hi>, if false<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>dare
<lb/>him?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1790">He dares not calme his contumelious Spirit,</l>
<l n="1791">Nor cease to be an arrogant Controller,</l>
<l n="1792">Though<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>dare him twentie thousand times.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1793">Madame be still: with reuerence may I say,</l>
<l n="1794">For euery word you speake in his behalfe,</l>
<l n="1795">Is slander to your Royall Dignitie.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1796">Blunt‑witted Lord, ignoble in demeanor,</l>
<l n="1797">If euer Lady wrong'd her Lord so much,</l>
<l n="1798">Thy Mother tooke into her blamefull Bed</l>
<l n="1799">Some sterne vntutur'd Churle; and Noble Stock</l>
<l n="1800">Was graft with Crab‑tree slippe, whose Fruit thou art,</l>
<l n="1801">And neuer of the<hi rend="italic">Neuils</hi>Noble Race.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1802">But that the guilt of Murther bucklers thee,</l>
<l n="1803">And I should rob the Deaths‑man of his Fee,</l>
<l n="1804">Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,</l>
<l n="1805">And that my Soueraignes presence makes me milde,</l>
<l n="1806">I would, false murd'rous Coward, on thy Knee</l>
<l n="1807">Make thee begge pardon for thy passed speech,</l>
<l n="1808">And say it was thy Mother that thou meant'st,</l>
<l n="1809">That thou thy selfe wast borne in Bastardie;</l>
<l n="1810">And after all this fearefull Homage done,</l>
<l n="1811">Giue thee thy hyre, and send thy Soule to Hell,</l>
<l n="1812">Pernicious blood‑sucker of sleeping men.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1813">Thou shalt be waking, while I shed thy blood,</l>
<l n="1814">If from this presence thou dar'st goe with me.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">Warw.</speaker>
<l n="1815">Away euen now, or I will drag thee hence:</l>
<l n="1816">Vnworthy though thou art, Ile cope with thee,</l>
<l n="1817">And doe some seruice to Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfreyes</hi>Ghost.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1818">What stronger Brest‑plate then a heart vntainted?</l>
<l n="1819">Thrice is he arm'd, that hath his Quarrell iust;</l>
<l n="1820">And he but naked, though lockt vp in Steele,</l>
<l n="1821">Whose Conscience with Iniustice is corrupted.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="business">A noyse within.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
<l n="1822">What noyse is this?</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Suffolke and Warwicke, with their
<lb/>Weapons drawne.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1823">Why how now Lords?</l>
<l n="1824">Your wrathfull Weapons drawne,</l>
<l n="1825">Here in our presence? Dare you be so bold?</l>
<l n="1826">Why what tumultuous clamor haue we here?</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1827">The trayt'rous<hi rend="italic">Warwick</hi>, with the men of Bury,</l>
<l n="1828">Set all vpon me, mightie Soueraigne.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Salisbury.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-sal">
<speaker rend="italic">Salisb.</speaker>
<l n="1829">Sirs stand apart, the King shall know your
<lb/>minde.</l>
<cb n="2"/>
<l n="1830">Dread Lord, the Commons send you word by me,</l>
<l n="1831">Vnlesse Lord<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>straight be done to death,</l>
<l n="1832">Or banished faire Englands Territories,</l>
<l n="1833">They will by violence teare him from your Pallace,</l>
<l n="1834">And torture him with grieuous lingring death.</l>
<l n="1835">They say, by him the good Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfrey</hi>dy'de:</l>
<l n="1836">They say, in him they feare your Highnesse death;</l>
<l n="1837">And meere instinct of Loue and Loyaltie,</l>
<l n="1838">Free from a stubborne opposite intent,</l>
<l n="1839">As being thought to contradict your liking,</l>
<l n="1840">Makes them thus forward in his Banishment.</l>
<l n="1841">They say, in care of your most Royall Person,</l>
<l n="1842">That if your Highnesse should intend to sleepe,</l>
<l n="1843">And charge, that no man should disturbe your rest,</l>
<l n="1844">In paine of your dislike, or paine of death;</l>
<l n="1845">Yet notwithstanding such a strait Edict,</l>
<l n="1846">Were there a Serpent seene, with forked Tongue,</l>
<l n="1847">That slyly glyded towards yours Maiestie,</l>
<l n="1848">It were but necessarie you were wak't:</l>
<l n="1849">Least being suffer'd in that harmefull slumber,</l>
<l n="1850">The mortall Worme might make the sleepe eternall.</l>
<l n="1851">And therefore doe they cry, though you forbid,</l>
<l n="1852">That they will guard you, where you will, or no,</l>
<l n="1853">From such fell Serpents as false<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>is;</l>
<l n="1854">With whose inuenomed and fatall string,</l>
<l n="1855">Your louing Vnckle, twentie times his worth,</l>
<l n="1856">They say is shamefully bereft of life.</l>
<stage type="delivery" rend="inline italic">Commons within.</stage>
<l n="1857">An answer from the King, my Lord
<lb/>of Salisbury.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1858">'Tis like the Commons, rude vnpolisht Hindes,</l>
<l n="1859">Could send such Message to their Soueraigne:</l>
<l n="1860">But you, my Lord, were glad to be imploy'd,</l>
<l n="1861">To shew how queint an Orator you are.</l>
<l n="1862">But all the Honor<hi rend="italic">Salisbury</hi>hath wonne,</l>
<l n="1863">Is, that he was the Lord Embassador,</l>
<l n="1864">Sent from a sort of Tinkers to the King.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-com">
<stage type="delivery" rend="inline italic">Within.</stage>
<p n="1865">An answer from the King, or wee will all
<lb n="1866"/>breake in.</p>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1867">Goe<hi rend="italic">Salisbury</hi>, and tell them all from me,</l>
<l n="1868">I thanke them for their tender louing care;</l>
<l n="1869">And had I not beene cited so by them,</l>
<l n="1870">Yet did I purpose as they doe entreat:</l>
<l n="1871">For sure, my thoughts doe hourely prophecie,</l>
<l n="1872">Mischance vnto my State by<hi rend="italic">Suffolkes</hi>meanes.</l>
<l n="1873">And therefore by his Maiestie I sweare,</l>
<l n="1874">Whose farre‑vnworthie Deputie I am,</l>
<l n="1875">He shall not breathe infection in this ayre,</l>
<l n="1876">But three dayes longer, on the paine of death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1877">Oh<hi rend="italic">Henry</hi>, let me pleade for gentle<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="1878">Vngentle Queene, to call him gentle<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>.</l>
<l n="1879">No more I say: if thou do'st pleade for him,</l>
<l n="1880">Thou wilt but adde encrease vnto my Wrath.</l>
<l n="1881">Had I but sayd, I would haue kept my Word;</l>
<l n="1882">But when I sweare, it is irreuocable:</l>
<l n="1883">If after three dayes space thou here bee'st found,</l>
<l n="1884">On any ground that I am Ruler of,</l>
<l n="1885">The World shall not be Ransome for thy Life.</l>
<l n="1886">Come<hi rend="italic">Warwicke</hi>, come good<hi rend="italic">Warwicke</hi>, goe with mee,</l>
<l n="1887">I haue great matters to impart to thee.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1888">Mischance and Sorrow goe along with you,</l>
<l n="1889">Hearts Discontent, and sowre Affliction,</l>
<l n="1890">Be play‑fellowes to keepe you companie:</l>
<l n="1891">There's two of you, the Deuill make a third,</l>
<l n="1892">And three‑fold Vengeance tend vpon your steps.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suff.</speaker>
<l n="1893">Cease, gentle Queene, these Execrations,</l>
<l n="1894">And let thy<hi rend="italic">Suffolke</hi>take his heauie leaue.</l>
</sp>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0492-0.jpg" n="136"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queen.</speaker>
<l n="1895">Fye Coward woman, and soft harted wretch,</l>
<l n="1896">Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1897">A plague vpon them: wherefore should I cursse
<lb/>them?</l>
<l n="1898">Would curses kill, as doth the Mandrakes grone,</l>
<l n="1899">I would inuent as bitter searching termes,</l>
<l n="1900">As curst, as harsh, and horrible to heare,</l>
<l n="1901">Deliuer'd strongly through my fixed teeth,</l>
<l n="1902">With full as many signes of deadly hate,</l>
<l n="1903">As leane‑fac'd enuy in her loathsome caue.</l>
<l n="1904">My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words,</l>
<l n="1905">Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten Flint,</l>
<l n="1906">Mine haire be fixt an end, as one distract:</l>
<l n="1907">I, euery ioynt should seeme to curse and ban,</l>
<l n="1908">And euen now my burthen'd heart would breake</l>
<l n="1909">Should I not curse them. Poyson be their drinke.</l>
<l n="1910">Gall, worse then Gall, the daintiest that they taste:</l>
<l n="1911">Their sweetest shade, a groue of Cypresse Trees:</l>
<l n="1912">Their cheefest Prospect, murd'ring Basiliskes:</l>
<l n="1913">Their softest Touch, as smart as Lyzards stings:</l>
<l n="1914">Their Musicke, frightfull as the Serpents hisse,</l>
<l n="1915">And boading Screech‑Owles, make the Consort full.</l>
<l n="1916">All the foule terrors in darke seated hell›</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Q.</speaker>
<l n="1917">Enough sweet Suffolke, thou torment'st thy selfe,</l>
<l n="1918">And these dread curses like the Sunne 'gainst glasse,</l>
<l n="1919">Or like an ouer‑charged Gun, recoile,</l>
<l n="1920">And turnes the force of them vpon thy selfe.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1921">You bad me ban, and will you bid me leaue?</l>
<l n="1922">Now by the ground that I am banish'd from,</l>
<l n="1923">Well could I curse away a Winters night,</l>
<l n="1924">Though standing naked on a Mountaine top,</l>
<l n="1925">Where byting cold would neuer let grasse grow,</l>
<l n="1926">And thinke it but a minute spent in sport.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1927">Oh, let me intreat thee cease, giue me thy hand,</l>
<l n="1928">That I may dew it with my mournfull tea<gap extent="1"
unit="chars"
reason="illegible"
agent="partiallyInkedType"
resp="#ES"/>e<gap extent="1"
unit="chars"
reason="illegible"
agent="partiallyInkedType"
resp="#ES"/>:</l>
<l n="1929">Nor let the raine of heauen wet this place,</l>
<l n="1930">To wash away my wofull Monuments.</l>
<l n="1931">Oh, could this kisse be printed in thy hand,</l>
<l n="1932">That thou might'st thinke vpon these by the Seale,</l>
<l n="1933">Through whom a thousand sighes are breath'd for thee.</l>
<l n="1934">So get thee gone, that I may know my greefe,</l>
<l n="1935">'Tis but surmiz'd, whiles thou art standing by,</l>
<l n="1936">As one that surfets, thinking on a want:</l>
<l n="1937">I will repeale thee, or be well assur'd,</l>
<l n="1938">Aduenture to be banished my selfe:</l>
<l n="1939">And banished I am, if but from thee.</l>
<l n="1940">Go, speake not to me; euen now be gone.</l>
<l n="1941">Oh go not yet. Euen thus, two Friends condemn'd,</l>
<l n="1942">Embrace, and kisse, and take ten thousand leaues,</l>
<l n="1943">Loather a hundred times to part then dye;</l>
<l n="1944">Yet now farewell, and farewell Life with thee.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1945">Thus is poore Suffolke ten times banished,</l>
<l n="1946">Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.</l>
<l n="1947">'Tis not the Land I care for, wer't thou thence,</l>
<l n="1948">A Wildernesse is populous enough,</l>
<l n="1949">So Suffolke had thy heauenly company:</l>
<l n="1950">For where thou art, there is the World it selfe,</l>
<l n="1951">With euery seuerall pleasure in the World:</l>
<l n="1952">And where thou art not, Desolation.</l>
<l n="1953">I can no more: Liue thou to ioy thy life;</l>
<l n="1954">My selfe no ioy in nought, but that thou liu'st.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter Vaux.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queene.</speaker>
<l n="1955">Whether goes<hi rend="italic">Vaux</hi>so fast? What newes I
<lb/>prethee?</l>
</sp>
<cb n="2"/>
<sp who="#F-2h6-vau">
<speaker rend="italic">Vaux.</speaker>
<l n="1956">To signifie vnto his Maiesty,</l>
<l n="1957">That Cardinall<hi rend="italic">Beauford</hi>is at point of death:</l>
<l n="1958">For sodainly a greeuous sicknesse tooke him,</l>
<l n="1959">That makes him gaspe, and stare, and catch the aire,</l>
<l n="1960">Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth.</l>
<l n="1961">Sometime he talkes, as if Duke<hi rend="italic">Humfries</hi>Ghost</l>
<l n="1962">Were by his side: Sometime, he calles the King,</l>
<l n="1963">And whispers to his pillow, as to him,</l>
<l n="1964">The secrets of his ouer‑charged soule,</l>
<l n="1965">And I am sent to tell his Maiestie,</l>
<l n="1966">That euen now he cries alowd for him.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1967">Go tell this heauy Message to the King.</l>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exit</stage>
<l n="1968">Aye me! What is this World? What newes are these<c rend="italic">?</c>
</l>
<l n="1969">But wherefore greeue I at an houres poore losse,</l>
<l n="1970">Omitting Suffolkes exile, my soules Treasure?</l>
<l n="1971">Why onely Suffolke mourne I not for thee?</l>
<l n="1972">And with the Southerne clouds, contend in teares?</l>
<l n="1973">Theirs for the earths encrease, mine for my sorrowes.</l>
<l n="1974">Now get thee hence, the King thou know'st is comming,</l>
<l n="1975">If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1976">If I depart from thee, I cannot liue,</l>
<l n="1977">And in thy fight to dye, what were it else,</l>
<l n="1978">But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?</l>
<l n="1979">Heere could I breath my soule into the ayre,</l>
<l n="1980">As milde and gentle as the Cradle‑babe,</l>
<l n="1981">Dying with mothers dugge betweene it's lips.</l>
<l n="1982">Where from thy fight, I should be raging mad,</l>
<l n="1983">And cry out for thee to close vp mine eyes:</l>
<l n="1984">To haue thee with thy lippes to stop my mouth:</l>
<l n="1985">So should'st thou eyther turne my flying soule,</l>
<l n="1986">Or I should breathe it so into thy body,</l>
<l n="1987">And then it liu'd in sweete Elizium.</l>
<l n="1988">To dye by thee, were but to dye in iest,</l>
<l n="1989">From thee to dye, were torture more then death:</l>
<l n="1990">Oh let me stay, befall what may befall.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Queen.</speaker>
<l n="1991">Away: Though parting be a fretfull corosiue,</l>
<l n="1992">It is applyed to a deathfull wound.</l>
<l n="1993">To France sweet Suffolke: Let me heare from thee:</l>
<l n="1994">For wheresoere thou art in this worlds Globe,</l>
<l n="1995">Ile haue an<hi rend="italic">Iris</hi>that shall finde thee out.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1996">I go.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="1997">And take my heart with thee.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-suf">
<speaker rend="italic">Suf.</speaker>
<l n="1998">A Iewell lockt into the wofulst Caske,</l>
<l n="1999">That euer did containe a thing of worth,</l>
<l n="2000">Euen as a splitted Barke, so sunder we:</l>
<l n="2001">This way fall I to death.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-mar">
<speaker rend="italic">Qu.</speaker>
<l n="2002">This way for me.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt</stage>
<stage rend="italic center" type="entrance">Enter the King, Salisbury, and Warwicke, to the
<lb/>Cardinal in bed.</stage>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="2003">How fare's my Lord? Speake<hi rend="italic">Beauford</hi>to thy
<lb/>Soueraigne.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-cad">
<speaker rend="italic">Ca.</speaker>
<l n="2004">If thou beest death, Ile giue thee Englands Treasure,</l>
<l n="2005">Enough to purchase such another Island,</l>
<l n="2006">So thou wilt let me liue, and feele no paine.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="2007">Ah, what a signe it is of euill life,</l>
<l n="2008">Where death's approach is seene so terrible.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="2009">
<hi rend="italic">Beauford</hi>, it is thy Soueraigne speakes to thee.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-win">
<speaker rend="italic">Beau.</speaker>
<l n="2010">Bring me vnto my Triall when you will.</l>
<l n="2011">Dy'de he not in his bed? Where should he dye?</l>
<l n="2012">Can I make men liue where they will or no?</l>
<l n="2013">Oh torture me no more, I will confesse.</l>
<l n="2014">Aliue againe? Then shew me where he is,</l>
<l n="2015">Ile giue a thousand pound to looke vpon him.</l>
<l n="2016">He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.</l>
<pb facs="FFimg:axc0493-0.jpg" n="137"/>
<cb n="1"/>
<l n="2017">Combe downe his haire; looke, looke, it stands vpright,</l>
<l n="2018">Like Lime‑twigs set to catch my winged soule:</l>
<l n="2019">Giue me some drinke, and bid the Apothecarie</l>
<l n="2020">Bring the strong poyson that I bought of him.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="2021">Oh thou eternall mouer of the heauens,</l>
<l n="2022">Looke with a gentle eye vpon this Wretch,</l>
<l n="2023">Oh beate away the busie medling Fiend,</l>
<l n="2024">That layes strong siege vnto this wretches soule,</l>
<l n="2025">And from his bosome purge this blacke dispaire.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="2026">See how the pangs of death do make him grin.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-sal">
<speaker rend="italic">Sal.</speaker>
<l n="2027">Disturbe him not, let him passe peaceably.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="2028">Peace to his soule, if Gods good pleasure be.</l>
<l n="2029">Lord Card'nall, if thou think'st on heauens blisse,</l>
<l n="2030">Hold vp thy hand, make signall of thy hope.</l>
<l n="2031">He dies and makes no signe: Oh God forgiue him.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-war">
<speaker rend="italic">War.</speaker>
<l n="2032">So bad a death, argues a monstrous life.</l>
</sp>
<sp who="#F-2h6-hn6">
<speaker rend="italic">King.</speaker>
<l n="2033">Forbeare to iudge, for we are sinners all.</l>
<l n="2034">Close vp his eyes, and draw the Curtaine close,</l>
<l n="2035">And let vs all to Meditation.</l>
</sp>
<stage rend="italic rightJustified" type="exit">Exeunt.</stage>
</div>
