Exeunt
running scene 6
Enter York, Salisbury and Warwick
YORK Now, my good lords of Salisbury and Warwick,
Our simple supper ended, give me leave
In this close3 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 Nevilles 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 Gloucester;
William of Windsor was the seventh and last.
Edward the Black Prince died before his father,
And left behind him Richard19, his only son,
Who, after Edward the Third’s death, reigned as king,
Till Henry Bullingbrook, Duke of Lancaster,
The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt,
Crowned by the name of Henry the Fourth,
Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king,
Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came,
And him to Pomfret26: where, as all you know,
Harmless Richard was murdered 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 issue32 of the next son should have reigned.
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 Philippa, a daughter,
Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March.
Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March;
Roger had issue, Edmund38, Anne and Eleanor.
SALISBURY This Edmund39, in the reign of Bullingbrook,
As I have read, laid claim unto the crown,
And but for Owen Glendower, had been king,
Who kept him in captivity till he died42.
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 proceedings54 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 fails57, his should not reign.
It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee
And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock59.
Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together,
And in this private plot61 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 We65 thank you, lords: but I am not your king
Till I be crowned and that66 my sword be stained
With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster:
And that’s not suddenly68 to be performed,
But with advice69 and silent secrecy.
Do you as I do in these dangerous days:
Wink at71 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 snared the shepherd of the flock,
That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey:
’Tis 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, Neville81, this I do assure myself:
Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick
The greatest man in England but83 the king.
Exeunt
running scene 7
Sound trumpets. Enter the King [Henry VI] and state [Queen Margaret, Gloucester, Suffolk, Buckingham and Cardinal], with Guard, to banish the Duchess [Eleanor, with Margaret Jordan, Southwell, Hume and Bullingbrook, all guarded. Enter to them York, Salisbury and Warwick]
KING HENRY VI Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester’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 adjudged to4 death.—
You four, from hence to prison back again:
From thence unto the place of execution:
The witch in Smithfield7 shall be burned to ashes,
And you three shall be strangled8 on the gallows.
You, madam, for9 you are more nobly born,
Despoilèd of your honour in10 your life,
Shall, after three days’ open11 penance done,
Live in your country here in banishment,
With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man13.
ELEANOR Welcome is banishment, welcome were14 my death.
GLOUCESTER Eleanor, the law, thou see’st, hath judged thee:
I cannot justify16 whom the law condemns.—
[Exeunt Eleanor and 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 would21 solace and mine age would ease.
KING HENRY VI Stay22, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester: ere thou go,
Give up thy staff23: Henry will to himself
Protector be, and God shall be my hope,
My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet25:
And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved
Than when thou wert Protector to thy king.
QUEEN MARGARET I see no reason why a king of years28
Should be to be29 protected like a child:
God and King Henry govern England’s realm:
Give up your staff, sir, and the king his31 realm.
GLOUCESTER 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
He lays the staff at Henry’s feet
As others would ambitiously receive it.
Farewell, good king: when I am dead and gone,
May honourable peace attend thy throne!
Exit Gloucester
QUEEN MARGARET Why, now is Henry king, and Margaret queen,
And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself,
That bears so shrewd a maim: two pulls41 at once:
She picks up the staff
His lady banished, and a limb lopped off.
This staff of honour raught43, there let it stand
She gives the staff to Henry
Where it best fits to be, in Henry’s hand.
SUFFOLK Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays45:
Thus Eleanor’s pride dies in her youngest days46.
YORK Lords, let him go47.— Please it your majesty,
This is the day appointed for the combat,
And ready are the appellant49 and defendant,
The armourer and his man, to enter the lists50,
So please your highness to behold the fight.
QUEEN MARGARET Ay, good my lord: for purposely therefore52
Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.
KING HENRY VI A God’s name, see the lists and all things fit54:
Here let them end it, and God defend the right.
YORK I never saw a fellow worse bestead56,
Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
The servant of this armourer, my lords.
Enter at one door [Horner] the armourer and his [three] Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk: and he enters with a Drum before him and his staff with a sandbag fastened to it: and at the other door [Peter] his man, with a drum and sandbag, and Prentices drinking to him
FIRST NEIGHBOUR Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in
a cup of sack60: and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well
enough.
SECOND NEIGHBOUR And here, neighbour, here’s a cup of
charneco63.
THIRD NEIGHBOUR And here’s a pot of good double64 beer,
neighbour: drink, and fear not your man.
HORNER Let it come, i’faith, and I’ll pledge you all, and a fig66
Horner drinks with them
for Peter!
FIRST PRENTICE Here, Peter, I drink to thee, and be not afraid.
SECOND PRENTICE Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master: fight
Peter rejects their offers of drinks
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 fence76
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 my86
death I never meant him any ill, nor the king, nor the queen:
and therefore, Peter, have at thee with a downright88 blow.
YORK Dispatch: this knave’s tongue begins to double89.
Sound, trumpets, alarum90 to the combatants!
[Alarum.] They fight, and Peter strikes him [Horner] down
Dies
HORNER Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.
YORK Take away his weapon.— Fellow, thank God, and
the good wine in thy master’s way93.
PETER O God, have I overcome mine enemies in this
presence95? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right.
KING HENRY VI Go, take hence that traitor from our sight,
For by his death we do perceive his guilt,
And God in justice hath revealed to us
The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
Which he100 had thought to have murdered wrongfully.
Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.
Sound a flourish. Exeunt
running scene 8
Enter Duke Humphrey [Gloucester] and his Men in mourning cloaks
GLOUCESTER Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud:
And after summer evermore succeeds2
Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet4.
Sirs, what’s o’clock?
SERVANT Ten, my lord.
GLOUCESTER Ten is the hour that was appointed me
To watch the coming of my punished duchess:
Uneath may she endure the flinty9 streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook11
The abject12 people gazing on thy face,
With envious13 looks laughing at thy shame,
That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels
When thou didst ride in triumph14 through the streets.
But soft, I think she comes: and I’ll prepare
My tear-stained eyes to see her miseries.
Enter the Duchess [Eleanor barefoot] in a white sheet, [with verses pinned on her back] and a taper burning in her hand, with [Sir John Stanley,] the Sheriff and Officers
SERVANT So please your grace, we’ll take her from the sheriff.
GLOUCESTER No, stir not for your lives, let her pass by.
ELEANOR Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze,
See how the giddy22 multitude do point,
And nod their heads, and throw23 their eyes on thee.
Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful24 looks,
And, in thy closet pent up, rue25 my shame,
And ban26 thine enemies, both mine and thine.
GLOUCESTER Be patient, gentle Nell: forget this grief.
ELEANOR Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself,
For whilst I think I am thy married wife
And thou a prince, Protector of this land,
Methinks I should not thus be led along,
Mailed up32 in shame, with papers on my back,
And followed with a rabble that rejoice
To see my tears and hear my deep-fet34 groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I start36, the envious people laugh
And bid me be advisèd37 how I tread.
Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
Trowest thou39 that e’er I’ll look upon the world,
Or count them happy that enjoys the sun?
No: dark shall be my light, and night my day.
To think upon my pomp42 shall be my hell.
Sometime I’ll say, I am Duke Humphrey’s wife,
And he a prince and ruler of the land:
Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was,
As46 he stood by, whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock47
To every idle rascal48 follower.
But be thou mild49 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 her53 that hateth thee and hates us all,
And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all limed55 bushes to betray thy wings,
And fly thou how thou canst56, they’ll tangle thee.
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared,
Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.
GLOUCESTER Ah, Nell, forbear: thou aimest all awry59.
I must offend before I be attainted60:
And had I twenty times so many foes,
And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any scathe63,
So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless.
Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why yet thy scandal were not66 wiped away
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet68, gentle Nell:
I pray thee sort69 thy heart to patience,
These few days’ wonder will be quickly worn70.
Enter a Herald
HERALD I summon your grace to his majesty’s parliament,
Holden at Bury72 the first of this next month.
GLOUCESTER And my consent ne’er asked herein before?
This is close dealing74. Well, I will be there.—
[Exit Herald]
My Nell, I take my leave: and, Master Sheriff,
Let not her penance exceed the king’s commission76.
SHERIFF An’t please your grace, here my commission stays77,
And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
To take her with him to the Isle of Man.
GLOUCESTER Must you, Sir John, protect80 my lady here?
STANLEY So am I given in charge, may’t please your grace.
GLOUCESTER Entreat82 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
He begins to leave
You do it her. And so, Sir John, farewell.
ELEANOR What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell?
GLOUCESTER Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.
Exeunt Gloucester [and his Men]
ELEANOR Art thou gone too? All comfort go with thee,
For none abides with me: my joy is death:
Death, at whose name I oft have been afeared90,
Because I wished this world’s eternity91.
Stanley, I prithee go, and take me hence:
I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
Only convey me where thou art commanded.
STANLEY Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man,
There to be used according to your state96.
ELEANOR That’s bad enough, for I am but reproach97:
And shall I then be used reproachfully?
STANLEY Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey’s lady:
According to that state you shall be used.
ELEANOR Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare101,
Although thou hast been conduct102 of my shame.
SHERIFF It is my office103; and, madam, pardon me.
ELEANOR Ay, ay, farewell, thy office is discharged104:
Come, Stanley, shall we go?
STANLEY Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,
And go we to attire107 you for our journey.
ELEANOR My shame will not be shifted108 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
running scene 9
Sound a sennet. Enter King [Henry VI], Queen [Margaret], Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick to the parliament [with Attendants]
KING HENRY VI I muse1 my lord of Gloucester is not come:
’Tis not his wont to be the hindmost2 man,
Whate’er occasion keeps him from us now.
QUEEN MARGARET Can you not see? Or will ye not observe
The strangeness5 of his altered countenance?
With what a majesty he bears himself,
How insolent7 of late he is become,
How proud, how peremptory8, and unlike himself?
We know the time since9 he was mild and affable,
And if we did but glance a far-off10 look,
Immediately he was upon his knee,
That all the court admired him for12 submission.
But meet him now, and be it in the morn,
When everyone will give the time of day14,
He knits his brow15 and shows an angry eye,
And passeth by with stiff unbowèd knee16,
Disdaining duty17 that to us belongs.
Small curs are not regarded when they grin18,
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.
Meseemeth then it is no policy23,
Respecting what a rancorous24 mind he bears,
And his advantage following your decease,
That he should come about26 your royal person
Or be admitted to your highness’ Council.
By flattery hath he won the commons’ hearts:
And when he please to make commotion29,
’Tis to be feared they all will follow him.
Now ’tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted31:
Suffer32 them now, and they’ll o’ergrow the garden
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry33.
The reverent care I bear unto my lord
Made me collect35 these dangers in the duke.
If it be fond36, call it a woman’s fear:
Which fear, if better reasons can supplant37,
I will subscribe38 and say I wronged the duke.
My lord of Suffolk, Buckingham and York,
Reprove40 my allegation, if you can,
Or else conclude my words effectual41.
SUFFOLK Well hath your highness seen into this duke:
And had I first been put43 to speak my mind,
I think I should have told your grace’s tale.
The duchess, by his subornation45,
Upon my life, began her devilish practices46:
Or if he were not privy to47 those faults,
Yet by reputing48 of his high descent,
As next the49 king he was successive heir,
And such high vaunts50 of his nobility,
Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick51 duchess
By wicked means to frame52 our sovereign’s fall.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep:
And in his simple show54 he harbours treason.
The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.—
To King Henry
No, no, my sovereign, Gloucester is a man.
Unsounded57 yet and full of deep deceit.
To King Henry
CARDINAL Did he not, contrary to form of law,
Devise strange59 deaths for small offences done?
To King Henry
YORK And did he not, in his Protectorship,
Levy61 great sums of money through the realm
For soldiers’ pay in France, and never sent it,
By means whereof63 the towns each day revolted?
BUCKINGHAM Tut, these are petty faults to64 faults unknown,
Which time will bring to light in smooth65 Duke Humphrey.
KING HENRY VI My lords, at once66: the care you have of us
To mow down thorns that would annoy67 our foot
Is worthy praise: but shall I68 speak my conscience,
Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent
From meaning treason to our royal person
As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove:
The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given72
To dream on evil or to work my downfall.
QUEEN MARGARET Ah, what’s more dangerous than this fond affiance74?
Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrowed,
For he’s disposèd as76 the hateful raven.
Is he a lamb? His skin is surely lent him,
For he’s inclined as is the ravenous wolves78.
Who cannot steal a shape that means79 deceit?
Take heed, my lord, the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful81 man.
Enter Somerset
SOMERSET All health unto my gracious sovereign.
KING HENRY VI Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?
SOMERSET That all your interest84 in those territories
Is utterly bereft85 you: all is lost.
KING HENRY VI Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God’s will be done.
Aside
YORK Cold news for me: for I had hope of France.
As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
Thus are my blossoms blasted89 in the bud
And caterpillars eat my leaves away:
But I will remedy this gear91 ere long,
Or sell my title for a glorious grave.
Enter Gloucester
GLOUCESTER All happiness unto my lord the king:
Pardon, my liege, that I have stayed94 so long.
SUFFOLK Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon,
Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art:
I do arrest thee of high treason here.
GLOUCESTER Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush
Nor change my countenance for this arrest:
A heart unspotted is not easily daunted.
The purest spring is not so free from mud
As I am clear from treason to my sovereign.
Who can accuse me? Wherein am I guilty?
YORK ’Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of104 France,
And, being Protector, stayed105 the soldiers’ pay,
By means whereof his highness hath lost France.
GLOUCESTER Is it but thought so? What107 are they that think it?
I never robbed the soldiers of their pay,
Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
So help me God, as I have watched the night110,
Ay, night by night, in studying111 good for England,
That doit112 that e’er I wrested from the king,
Or any groat113 I hoarded to my use,
Be brought against me at my trial day!
No: many a pound of mine own proper store115,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
Have I disbursèd117 to the garrisons,
And never asked for restitution.
CARDINAL It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
GLOUCESTER I say no more than truth, so help me God.
YORK In your Protectorship you did devise
Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of,
That England was defamed by123 tyranny.
GLOUCESTER Why, ’tis well known that whiles124 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 fault127:
Unless it were a bloody murderer,
Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers129,
I never gave them condign130 punishment.
Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured
Above the felon or what trespass else132.
SUFFOLK My lord, these faults are easy133, quickly answered:
But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
I do arrest you in his highness’ name,
And here commit you to my lord cardinal
To keep until your further138 time of trial.
KING HENRY VI My lord of Gloucester, ’tis my special hope
That you will clear yourself from all suspense140:
My conscience tells me you are innocent.
GLOUCESTER Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous:
Virtue is choked with foul ambition
And charity chased hence by rancour’s hand:
Foul subornation145 is predominant
And equity146 exiled your highness’ land.
I know their complot147 is to have my life:
And if my death might make this island happy,
And prove the period149 of their tyranny,
I would expend it150 with all willingness.
But mine151 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 blab154 his heart’s malice,
And Suffolk’s cloudy brow his stormy hate:
Sharp156 Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious157 load that lies upon his heart:
And doggèd158 York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose overweening159 arm I have plucked back,
By false accuse doth level160 at my life.—
To Queen Margaret
And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest,
Causeless162 have laid disgraces on my head,
And with your best endeavour have stirred up
My liefest liege164 to be mine enemy:
Ay, all of you have laid your heads together —
Myself had notice of your conventicles166 —
And all to make away my guiltless life.
I shall not want168 false witness to condemn me,
Nor store169 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 railing172 is intolerable.
If those that care to keep your royal person
From treason’s secret knife and traitors’ rage
Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at175,
And the offender granted scope176 of speech,
’Twill make them cool in zeal177 unto your grace.
SUFFOLK Hath he not twit178 our sovereign lady here
With ignominious words, though clerkly couched179,
As if she had subornèd180 some to swear
False allegations to o’erthrow his state181?
QUEEN MARGARET But I can give the loser leave to chide.
GLOUCESTER Far truer spoke than meant: I lose indeed:
Beshrew the winners, for they played me false184,
And well such losers may have leave to speak.
BUCKINGHAM He’ll wrest the sense186 and hold us here all day.
Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.
CARDINAL Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure188.
GLOUCESTER 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 gnarling192 who shall gnaw thee first.
Ah, that my fear were false: ah, that it were:
For, good King Henry, thy decay194 I fear.
Exit Gloucester [guarded]
KING HENRY VI My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best,
Do or undo, as if ourself were here.
QUEEN MARGARET What, will your highness leave the parliament?
KING HENRY VI Ay, Margaret: my heart is drowned with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes:
My body round engirt200 with misery:
For what’s more miserable than discontent?—
Ah, uncle Humphrey, in thy face I see
The map203 of honour, truth and loyalty:
And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come
That e’er I proved thee false or feared thy faith205.
What louring star now envies thy estate206,
That these great lords and Margaret our queen
Do seek subversion208 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 strays211,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughterhouse,
Even so remorseless have they borne him hence:
And as the dam214 runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do naught but wail her darling’s loss,
Even so myself bewails good Gloucester’s case
With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimmed eyes
Look after him, and cannot do him good:
So mighty are his vowèd220 enemies.
His fortunes I will weep, and ’twixt221 each groan
Say ‘Who’s a traitor? Gloucester he is none.’
Exit [with Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick]
QUEEN MARGARET Free223 lords, cold snow melts with the sun’s hot beams:
Henry my lord is cold224 in great affairs,
Too full of foolish pity: and Gloucester’s show225
Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers227,
Or as the snake rolled in a flow’ring bank,
With shining chequered slough229, 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 wit232 good—
This Gloucester should be quickly rid233 the world,
To rid us from the fear we have of him.
CARDINAL That he should die is worthy235 policy:
But yet we want a colour236 for his death:
’Tis meet237 he be condemned by course of law.
SUFFOLK But, in my mind, that were238 no policy:
The king will labour still239 to save his life,
The commons haply rise240, to save his life:
And yet we have but trivial argument241,
More than mistrust242, that shows him worthy death.
YORK So that, by this243, you would not have him die.
SUFFOLK Ah, York, no man alive so fain244 as I.
Aside
YORK ’Tis York that hath more reason for his death.—
Aloud
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 empty248 eagle were set
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite249,
As place Duke Humphrey for the king’s Protector?
QUEEN MARGARET So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
SUFFOLK Madam, ’tis true: and were’t not madness then
To make the fox surveyor of the fold253,
Who being accused a crafty murderer,
His guilt should be but idly posted over255,
Because his purpose is not executed256?
No: let him die, in that he is a fox,
By nature proved an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps259 be stained with crimson blood,
As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege260.
And do not stand on quillets261 how to slay him:
Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety262,
Sleeping or waking, ’tis no matter how,
So264 he be dead: for that is good deceit
Which mates265 him first that first intends deceit.
QUEEN MARGARET Thrice-noble Suffolk, ’tis resolutely spoke.
SUFFOLK Not resolute, except267 so much were done:
For things are often spoke and seldom meant:
But that my heart accordeth269 with my tongue,
Seeing the deed is meritorious270,
And to preserve my sovereign from his foe,
Say but the word, and I will be his priest272.
CARDINAL But I would have him dead, my lord of Suffolk,
Ere you can take due orders for a priest274:
Say you consent and censure275 well the deed,
And I’ll provide his executioner,
I tender so277 the safety of my liege.
SUFFOLK Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.
QUEEN MARGARET And so say I.
YORK And I: and now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly who impugns our doom281.
Enter a Post
POST Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain282
To signify283 that rebels there are up
And put the Englishmen unto the sword.
Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime285,
Before the wound do grow uncurable:
For, being green287, there is great hope of help.
CARDINAL A breach288 that craves a quick expedient stop!
What counsel give you in this weighty cause289?
YORK That Somerset be sent as regent thither:
’Tis meet that lucky ruler be employed:291
Witness the fortune he hath had in France.
SOMERSET If York, with all his far-fet293 policy,
Had been the regent there instead of me,
He never would have stayed in France so long.
YORK No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done.
I rather would have lost my life betimes297
Than bring a burden of dishonour home
By staying there so long till all were lost.
Show me one scar charactered300 on thy skin:
Men’s flesh301 preserved so whole do seldom win.
QUEEN MARGARET Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire
If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with:
No more, good York: sweet Somerset, be still:
Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,
Might happily306 have proved far worse than his.
YORK What, worse than naught? Nay, then a shame take all!
SOMERSET And, in the number308, thee that wishest shame.
CARDINAL My lord of York, try309 what your fortune is:
The uncivil kerns310 of Ireland are in arms
And temper clay311 with blood of Englishmen.
To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
Collected choicely313, from each county some,
And try your hap314 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 order320 for mine own affairs.
SUFFOLK A charge, Lord York, that I will see performed.
But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey.
CARDINAL No more of him: for I will deal with him
That henceforth he shall trouble us no more:
And so break off: the day is almost 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 [leaving] York
YORK Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts,
And change misdoubt332 to resolution:
Be that333 thou hop’st to be, or what thou art
Resign to death: it is not worth th’enjoying:
Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born335 man,
And find no harbour336 in a royal heart.
Faster than springtime showers comes thought on thought,
And not a thought but thinks on dignity338.
My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,
Weaves tedious340 snares to trap mine enemies.
Well, nobles, well: ’tis politicly341 done,
To send me packing with an host of men:
I fear me343 you but warm the starvèd snake,
Who, cherished in your breasts, will sting your hearts.344
’Twas men I lacked and you will give them me:
I take it kindly: yet be well assured
You put sharp weapons in a madman’s hands.
Whiles I in Ireland nourish348 a mighty band,
I will stir up in England some black storm
Shall350 blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell:
And this fell351 tempest shall not cease to rage
Until the golden circuit352 on my head,
Like to the glorious sun’s transparent beams,
Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw354.
And for a minister of my intent355,
I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman,
John Cade of Ashford357,
To make commotion358, as full well he can,
Under the title of John Mortimer359.
In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
Oppose himself against a troop of kerns,
And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts362
Were almost like a sharp-quilled porcupine:
And in the end, being rescued, I have seen
Him caper upright like a wild Morisco365,
Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells366.
Full often, like a shag-haired367 crafty kern,
Hath he conversèd with the enemy,
And, undiscovered, come to me again
And given me notice370 of their villainies.
This devil here shall be my substitute:
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead372,
In face, in gait373, in speech, he doth resemble.
By this I shall perceive the commons’374 mind,
How they affect375 the house and claim of York.
Say he be taken, racked376 and torturèd,
I know no pain they can inflict upon him
Will make him say I moved378 him to those arms.
Say that he thrive, as ’tis great like379 he will,
Why then from Ireland come I with my strength
And reap the harvest which that rascal381 sowed.
For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put apart383, the next for me.
Exit
[Act 3 Scene 2]
running scene 10
Enter two or three [Murderers] running over the stage, from the murder of Duke Humphrey [Gloucester]
FIRST MURDERER Run to my lord of Suffolk: let him know
We have dispatched2 the duke, as he commanded.
SECOND MURDERER O, that it were to do3! What have we done?
Didst ever hear a man so penitent?
Enter Suffolk
FIRST MURDERER Here comes my lord.
SUFFOLK Now, sirs, have you dispatched this thing?
FIRST 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 venturous9 deed:
The king and all the peers are here at hand.
Have you laid fair11 the bed? Is all things well,
According as I gave directions?
FIRST MURDERER ’Tis, my good lord.
SUFFOLK Away! Be gone.
Exeunt [Murderers]
Sound trumpets. Enter the King [Henry VI], the Queen [Margaret], Cardinal, Somerset, with Attendants
KING HENRY VI Go call our uncle to our presence straight15:
Say we intend to try his grace today
If he be guilty, as ’tis publishèd17.
SUFFOLK I’ll call him presently, my noble lord.
Exit
KING HENRY VI Lords, take your places: and, I pray you all,
Proceed no straiter20 gainst our uncle Gloucester
Than from true evidence of good esteem21
He be approved in practice culpable22.
QUEEN MARGARET God forbid any malice should prevail,
That faultless may condemn a noble man24:
Pray God he may acquit him25 of suspicion!
KING HENRY VI I thank thee, Meg: these words content me much.
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: Gloucester is dead.
QUEEN MARGARET Marry, God forfend30!
CARDINAL God’s secret judgement: I did dream tonight31
The duke was dumb and could not speak a word.
King [Henry VI] swoons
QUEEN MARGARET How fares my lord?— Help, lords, the king is dead!
SOMERSET Rear up his body: wring34 him by the nose.
QUEEN MARGARET Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!
SUFFOLK He doth revive again: madam, be patient.
KING HENRY VI O heavenly God!
QUEEN MARGARET How fares my gracious lord?
SUFFOLK Comfort, my sovereign: gracious Henry, comfort.
KING HENRY VI What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a raven’s note41,
Whose dismal tune bereft42 my vital powers:
And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow44 breast,
Can chase away the first-conceivèd45 sound?
Hide not thy poison with such sugared words:
Lay not thy hands on me: forbear I say,
Their touch affrights48 me as a serpent’s sting.
Thou baleful49 messenger, out of my sight:
Upon thy eyeballs murderous tyranny
Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding:
Yet do not go away: come, basilisk53,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death I shall find joy:
In life, but double death, now Gloucester’s dead.
QUEEN MARGARET Why do you rate57 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-offending61 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 deem66 of me?
For it is known we were but hollow67 friends:
It may be judged I made the duke away.
So shall my name with slander’s tongue be wounded,
And princes’ courts be filled with my reproach70:
This get I by his death: ay me, unhappy,
To be a queen, and crowned with infamy.
KING HENRY VI Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!
QUEEN MARGARET Be woe74 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, waxen77 deaf?
Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn78 queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester’s tomb?
Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne’er thy joy.
Erect his statue and worship it,
And make my image but an ale-house sign.
Was I for this nigh83 wracked upon the sea
And twice by awkward wind from England’s bank84
Drove back again unto my native clime85?
What boded this, but86 well forewarning wind
Did seem to say ‘Seek not a scorpion’s nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind88 shore’?
What did I then, but cursed the gentle89 gusts
And he that loosed them forth90 their brazen caves,
And bid them blow towards England’s blessèd shore,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
Yet Aeolus93 would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee.
The pretty95 vaulting sea refused to drown me,
Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on shore
With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness.
The splitting rocks cowered in the sinking sands98,
And would not dash me with their ragged sides,
Because100 thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perish101 Margaret.
As far as I could ken102 thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches104 in the storm,
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping106 sight of thy land’s view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck —
A heart it was, bound in with108 diamonds —
And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it,
And so I wished thy body might my heart:
And even with this, I lost fair England’s view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart112,
And called them blind and dusky spectacles,
For losing ken of Albion’s wishèd114 coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk’s tongue,
The agent116 of thy foul inconstancy,
To sit and witch117 me as Ascanius did,
When he to madding118 Dido would unfold
His father’s acts commenced in burning Troy.
Am I not witched like her? Or thou not false120 like him?
Ay me, I can no more121: 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 murdered
By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort’s means:
The commons, like an angry hive of bees
That want127 their leader, scatter up and down
And care not who they sting in his revenge128.
Myself have calmed their spleenful129 mutiny,
Until they hear the order130 of his death.
KING HENRY VI That he is dead, good Warwick, ’tis too true:
But how he died, God knows, not Henry:
Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
And comment then upon134 his sudden death.
WARWICK That shall I do, my liege.— Stay, Salisbury,
With the rude136 multitude till I return.
[Exeunt Warwick, Salisbury and Commons]
KING HENRY VI O, thou that judgest all things, stay137 my thoughts:
My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul
Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey’s life:
If my suspect140 be false, forgive me, God,
For judgement only doth belong to thee:
Fain would I go to chafe his paly142 lips
With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of salt tears,
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk145,
And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling:
But all in vain are these mean obsequies147;.
Bed put forth
And to survey his dead and earthy image:
What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
[Enter Warwick to reveal Gloucester’s body in his bed]
WARWICK Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.
KING HENRY VI 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 death153.
WARWICK As surely as my soul intends to live
With that dread king155 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-famèd158 duke.
SUFFOLK A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue:
What instance160 gives Lord Warwick for his vow?
WARWICK See how the blood is settled161 in his face.
Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost162,
Of ashy semblance, meagre163, pale and bloodless,
Being164 all descended to the labouring heart,
Who in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance166 gainst the enemy,
Which167 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 lived,
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man:
His hair upreared172, his nostrils stretched with struggling:
His hands abroad displayed173, as one that grasped
And tugged for life and was by strength subdued.
Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking.
His well-proportioned beard, made rough and rugged176,
Like to the summer’s corn by tempest lodged177:
It cannot be but he was murdered here:
The least of all these signs were probable179.
SUFFOLK Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?
Myself and Beaufort had him in protection,
And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.
WARWICK But both of you were vowed Duke Humphrey’s foes,
And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep184:
’Tis like you would not feast185 him like a friend,
And ’tis well seen186 he found an enemy.
QUEEN MARGARET Then you, belike187, suspect these noblemen
As guilty of Duke Humphrey’s timeless188 death.
WARWICK Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh,
And sees fast by a butcher with an axe,
But will suspect ’twas he that made the slaughter?
Who finds the partridge in the puttock192’s nest,
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?
Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
QUEEN MARGARET Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where’s your knife?
Is Beaufort termed a kite? Where are his talons?
SUFFOLK I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men:
But here’s a vengeful sword, rusted with ease199,
That shall be scoured200 in his rancorous heart
That slanders me with murder’s crimson badge201.
Say, if thou dar’st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,
That I am faulty203 in Duke Humphrey’s death.
[Exeunt Cardinal and Somerset]
WARWICK What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
QUEEN MARGARET He dares not calm his contumelious205 spirit,
Nor cease to be an arrogant controller206,
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 wronged her lord so much,
Thy mother took into her blameful bed
Some stern untutored churl: and noble stock214
Was graft with crab-tree slip215, whose fruit thou art,
And never of the Nevilles’ noble race.
WARWICK But that the guilt of murder bucklers217 thee,
And I should rob the deathsman218 of his fee,
Quitting219 thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my sovereign’s presence makes me mild220,
I would, false murd’rous coward, on thy knee
Make thee beg pardon for thy passèd222 speech,
And say it was thy mother that thou meant’st,
That thou thyself was born in bastardy:
And after all this fearful homage225 done,
Give thee thy hire226 and send thy soul to hell,
Pernicious227 bloodsucker of sleeping men!
SUFFOLK Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,
If from this presence229 thou dar’st go with me.
WARWICK Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:
Unworthy though thou art, I’ll cope231 with thee,
And do some service to Duke Humphrey’s ghost.
Exeunt [Suffolk and Warwick]
KING HENRY VI What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted?
Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just234:
And he but naked, though locked up in steel235,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
A noise within
QUEEN MARGARET What noise is this?
Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn
KING HENRY VI Why, how now, lords? Your wrathful weapons drawn
Here in our presence239? Dare you be so bold?
Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?
SUFFOLK The trait’rous Warwick with the men of Bury
Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.
Enter Salisbury [from the Commons, within]
To the commons
SALISBURY Sirs, stand apart: the king shall know your mind.—
To King Henry
Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,
Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death,
Or banishèd fair England’s territories,
They will by violence tear him from your palace,
And torture him with grievous ling’ring death.
They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died:
They say, in him they fear your highness’ death:
And mere251 instinct of love and loyalty,
Free from a stubborn opposite252 intent,
As being thought to contradict your liking253,
Makes them thus forward in254 his banishment.
They say, in care of your most royal person,
That if your highness should intend to sleep
And charge257 that no man should disturb your rest
In258 pain of your dislike, or pain of death,
Yet, notwithstanding such a strait259 edict,
Were there a serpent seen, with forkèd tongue,
That slyly glided towards your majesty,
It were but necessary you were waked:
Lest, being suffered263 in that harmful slumber,
The mortal worm264 might make the sleep eternal.
And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,
That they will guard you, whe’er266 you will or no,
From such fell267 serpents as false Suffolk is,
With whose envenomèd and fatal sting,
Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
They say, is shamefully bereft of life.
Within
COMMONS An answer from the king, my lord of Salisbury!
SUFFOLK ’Tis like the commons, rude unpolished hinds272,
Could send such message to their sovereign:
But you, my lord, were glad to be employed,
To show how quaint275 an orator you are.
But all the honour Salisbury hath won
Is that he was the Lord Ambassador
Sent from a sort of tinkers278 to the king.
Within
COMMONS An answer from the king, or we will all break in.
KING HENRY VI Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me
I thank them for their tender loving care:
And had I not been cited282 so by them,
Yet did I purpose283 as they do entreat:
For sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy
Mischance unto my state285 by Suffolk’s means.
And therefore by his286 majesty I swear,
Whose far unworthy deputy I am,
He shall not breathe infection in288 this air
But289 three days longer, on the pain of death.
[Exit Salisbury]
QUEEN MARGARET O Henry, let me plead for gentle290 Suffolk.
KING HENRY VI Ungentle291 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’st296 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 Margaret and Suffolk]
QUEEN MARGARET 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 tend305 upon your steps.
SUFFOLK Cease, gentle queen, these execrations306,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy307 leave.
QUEEN MARGARET Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch!
Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies?
SUFFOLK A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse them?
Could curses kill, as doth the mandrake’s311 groan,
I would invent as bitter-searching312 terms,
As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,
Delivered strongly through my fixèd314 teeth,
With full as many signs of deadly hate,
As lean-faced envy in her loathsome cave.
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words:
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint318:
Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract319:
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban320,
And even now my burdened heart would break
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest323 that they taste:
Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees324:
Their chiefest prospect, murd’ring basilisks325:
Their softest touch, as smart as lizards’326 stings:
Their music, frightful as the serpent’s hiss,
And boding screech-owls make the consort328 full!
All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell—
QUEEN MARGARET Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment’st thyself,
And these dread curses, like the sun gainst glass,
Or like an overchargèd332 gun, recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thyself.
SUFFOLK You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave334?
Now by the ground that I am banished 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 sport339.
QUEEN MARGARET 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,
She kisses his hand
To wash away my woeful monuments343.
O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
That thou mightst think upon these by the seal345,
Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee.
So get thee gone, that I may know347 my grief:
’Tis but surmised348 whiles thou art standing by,
As one that surfeits thinking on a want349:
I will repeal350 thee, or, be well assured,
Adventure351 to be banishèd myself:
And banishèd I am, if but from thee.
Go, speak not to me: even now be gone.
O, go not yet. Even thus two friends354 condemned
Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves,
Loather356 a hundred times to part than die:
Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.
SUFFOLK Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banishèd:
Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
’Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence360:
A wilderness is populous enough,
So362 Suffolk had thy heavenly company:
For where thou art, there is the world itself,
With every several364 pleasure in the world:
And where thou art not, desolation.
I can no more: live thou to joy366 thy life:
Myself no joy in naught but that thou liv’st.
Enter Vaux
QUEEN MARGARET 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 the372 air,
Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.
Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey’s ghost
Were by his side: sometime he calls the king,
And whispers to his pillow, as376 to him,
The secrets of his overchargèd377 soul;
And I am sent to tell his majesty
That even now he cries aloud for him.
QUEEN MARGARET Go tell this heavy380 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 loss382,
Omitting383 Suffolk’s exile, my soul’s treasure?
Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
And with the southern clouds contend in385 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 but388 dead.
SUFFOLK If I depart from thee, I cannot live:
And in thy sight to die390, what were it else
But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap391?
Here could I breathe my soul into the air392,
As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
Dying with mother’s dug394 between its lips.
Where, from395 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,
He kisses her
So shouldst thou either turn398 my flying soul,
Or I should breathe it so into thy body,
And then it lived in sweet Elysium400.
To die by thee were but to die in jest401:
From thee to die were torture more than death:
O let me stay, befall what may befall!
QUEEN MARGARET Away: though parting be a fretful404 corrosive,
It is applièd to a deathful405 wound.
To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee:
For wheresoe’er thou art in this world’s globe,
I’ll have an Iris408 that shall find thee out.
SUFFOLK I go.
She kisses him
QUEEN MARGARET And take my heart with thee.
SUFFOLK A jewel, locked into the woefull’st cask411
That ever did contain a thing of worth:
Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we413:
This way fall I to death.
QUEEN MARGARET This way for me.
Exeunt [severally]
running scene 11
Enter the King [Henry VI], Salisbury and Warwick, to the Cardinal in bed
KING HENRY VI 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,
So4 thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
KING HENRY VI Ah, what a sign it is of evil life,
Where death’s approach is seen6 so terrible.
WARWICK Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.
CARDINAL Bring me unto my trial when you will.
Died he9 not in his bed? Where should he die?
Can I make men live, whe’er 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 dust14 hath blinded them.
Comb down his hair: look, look, it stands upright,
Like lime-twigs16 set to catch my wingèd soul:
Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary
Bring the strong poison that I bought of18 him.
KING HENRY VI O, thou eternal mover of the heavens,
Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch:
O beat away the busy meddling fiend21
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 grin24.
SALISBURY Disturb him not: let him pass peaceably.
KING HENRY VI Peace to his soul, if God’s good pleasure be.
Lord Card’nal, if thou think’st on heaven’s bliss,
Cardinal dies
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
He dies and makes no sign: O God, forgive him.
WARWICK So bad a death argues30 a monstrous life.
KING HENRY VI Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
Close32 up his eyes and draw the curtain close,
And let us all to meditation33.
Exeunt
running scene 12
Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter [a] Lieutenant, [a Master, a Master’s Mate, Walter Whitmore; with] Suffolk [disguised and two Gentlemen as their prisoners] and others
LIEUTENANT The gaudy, blabbing1 and remorseful day
Is crept into the bosom of the sea:
And now loud-howling wolves arouse3 the jades
That drag the tragic melancholy night:
Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging5 wings
Clip6 dead men’s graves, and from their misty jaws
Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air:
Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize8,
For whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs9,
Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
Or with their blood stain this discoloured11 shore.
Pointing to First Gentleman
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee,
Pointing to Second Gentleman
And thou that art his mate, make boot13 of this:
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
Pointing to Suffolk To the Master
FIRST GENTLEMAN What is my ransom, master, let me know?
MASTER A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
To Second Gentleman
MATE And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
To both Gentlemen
LIEUTENANT What, think you much18 to pay two thousand crowns,
And bear the name and port19 of gentlemen?
WHITMORE Cut both the villains’ throats, for die you shall:
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpoised22 with such a petty sum.
To the Master
FIRST GENTLEMAN I’ll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life.
To the Mate
SECOND GENTLEMAN And so will I, and write home for it straight.
To Suffolk
WHITMORE I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard25,
And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die,
And so should these, if I might have my will.
LIEUTENANT Be not so rash: take ransom: let him live.
SUFFOLK Look on my George29: I am a gentleman:
Rate30 me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.
WHITMORE And so am I: my name is Walter31 Whitmore.
How now? Why starts thou? What, doth death affright32?
SUFFOLK Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death:
A cunning man34 did calculate my birth
And told me that by water I should die:
Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded36:
Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded37.
WHITMORE Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
Never yet did base dishonour blur our name,
But with our sword we wiped away the blot.
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge41,
Broke be my sword, my arms42 torn and defaced,
And I proclaimed 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:
Jove48 sometimes went disguised, and why not I?
LIEUTENANT But Jove was never slain as thou shalt be,
Obscure and lousy swain50, King Henry’s blood!
SUFFOLK The honourable blood of Lancaster
Must not be shed by such a jaded groom52:
Hast thou not kissed thy hand53 and held my stirrup?
Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule54
And thought thee happy when I shook my head55?
How often hast thou waited at my cup56,
Fed from my trencher, kneeled down at the board57,
When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
Remember it, and let it make thee crest-fall’n59,
Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride:
How in our voiding lobby61 hast thou stood
And duly waited for my coming forth?
This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm64 thy riotous tongue.
WHITMORE Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain65?
LIEUTENANT First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
SUFFOLK Base slave, thy words are blunt67 and so art thou.
LIEUTENANT Convey him hence and on our longboat’s68 side
Strike off his head.
SUFFOLK Thou dar’st not for thy own70.
LIEUTENANT Pole—
SUFFOLK Pole?72
LIEUTENANT Ay, kennel, puddle, sink73, whose filth and dirt
Troubles74 the silver spring where England drinks:
Now will I dam up this thy yawning75 mouth
For swallowing the treasure of the realm.
Thy lips that kissed the queen shall sweep the ground77:
And thou that smiled’st at good Duke Humphrey’s death,
Against the senseless winds shalt grin79 in vain,
Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again80.
And wedded be thou to the hags of hell81,
For daring to affy82 a mighty lord
Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
Having neither subject84, wealth, nor diadem:
By devilish policy85 art thou grown great,
And like ambitious Sylla, overgorged86
With gobbets87 of thy mother’s bleeding heart.
By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
The false revolting Normans thorough89 thee
Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy90
Hath slain their governors, surprised91 our forts,
And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
The princely Warwick, and the Nevilles all,
Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
As hating95 thee, are rising up in arms:
And now the House of York, thrust from the crown
By shameful murder of a guiltless king97
And lofty proud encroaching98 tyranny,
Burns with revenging fire, whose hopeful colours99
Advance our half-faced sun100, striving to shine,
Under the which is writ. ‘Invitis nubibus’101.
The commons102 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 thunder106
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges107:
Small things make base men proud. This villain here,
Being captain of a pinnace109, threatens more
Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate110.
Drones suck not eagles’ blood, but rob beehives111:
It is impossible that I should die
By such a lowly vassal113 as thyself.
Thy words move rage and not remorse in me:
I go of115 message from the queen to France:
I charge thee waft116 me safely cross the Channel.
LIEUTENANT Walter—
WHITMORE Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
SUFFOLK Paene gelidus timor occupat artus119: 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?
FIRST GENTLEMAN My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair122.
SUFFOLK Suffolk’s imperial123 tongue is stern and rough:
Used to command, untaught to plead for favour.
Far be it we125 should honour such as these
With humble suit126: 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 pole129
Than stand uncovered130 to the vulgar groom.
True nobility is exempt from fear:
More can I bear than you dare execute.
LIEUTENANT Hale133 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 Besonians136:
A Roman sworder and banditto137 slave
Murdered sweet Tully: Brutus’ bastard138 hand
Stabbed Julius Caesar: savage islanders
Pompey the Great140: and Suffolk dies by pirates.
Exit Walter [Whitmore] with Suffolk
LIEUTENANT 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.
Exit Lieutenant, and the rest [leaving] the First Gentleman
Enter Whitmore with the body [of Suffolk]
WHITMORE There let his head and lifeless body lie,
Until the queen his mistress145 bury it.
Exit
FIRST 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]
running scene 13
Enter [George] Bevis and John Holland [with long staves]
BEVIS Come and get thee a sword, though made of a lath1:
they have been up2 these two days.
HOLLAND They have the more need to sleep now then.
BEVIS I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress4 the
commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap5 upon it.
HOLLAND So he had need, for ’tis threadbare. Well, I say it was
never merry world7 in England since gentlemen came up.
BEVIS O miserable age: virtue is not regarded8 in
handicraftsmen.
HOLLAND The nobility think scorn10 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’12:
which is as much to say as, ‘Let the magistrates be labouring13
men’, and therefore should we be magistrates.
BEVIS Thou hast hit it: for there’s no better sign of a brave15
mind than a hard16 hand.
HOLLAND I see them! I see them! There’s Best’s son, the tanner17
of Wingham18.
BEVIS He shall have the skins of our enemies to make
dog’s leather20 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 spun25.
HOLLAND Come, come, let’s fall in26 with them.
Drum. Enter Cade, Dick [the] Butcher, Smith the Weaver, and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers [with long staves]
CADE We, John Cade, so termed of27 our supposed father—
Aside
DICK Or rather of stealing a cade28 of herrings.
CADE For our enemies shall fail29 before us, inspired with
the spirit of putting down kings and princes.— Command
silence.
DICK Silence!
CADE My father was a Mortimer—
Aside
DICK He was an honest man, and a good bricklayer34.
CADE My mother a Plantagenet—
Aside
DICK I knew her well, she was a midwife.
CADE My wife descended of the Lacys37—
Aside
DICK She was indeed a pedlar’s daughter, and.
sold many laces39.
Aside
SMITH But now of late, not able to travel40 with her.
furred pack, she washes bucks41 here at home.
CADE Therefore am I of an honourable house.
Aside
DICK Ay, by my faith, the field43 is honourable, and.
there was he born, under a hedge44: for his father had never a
house but the cage45.
CADE Valiant I am—
Aside
SMITH A must needs, for beggary is valiant47.
CADE I am able to endure much—
Aside
DICK No question of that: for I have seen him.
whipped50 three market days together.
CADE I fear neither sword nor fire—
Aside
SMITH He need not fear the sword, for his coat is of.
proof53.
Aside
DICK But methinks he should stand54 in fear of.
fire, being burnt55 i’th’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 small59 beer. All the
realm shall be in common, and in Cheapside shall my palfrey60
go to grass61: 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 apparel64 them
all in one livery, that they may agree65 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 scribbled o’er, should
undo a man? Some say the bee stings, but I say, ’tis the bee’s
wax: for I did but seal once to a thing72, and I was never mine
own man since. How now? Who’s there?
Enter [some, bringing forward] a Clerk [of Chartham]
SMITH The Clerk of Chartham: he can write and read and
cast account75.
CADE O, monstrous76.
SMITH We took him setting of boys’ copies77.
CADE Here’s a villain!
SMITH H’as a book in his pocket with red letters79 in’t.
CADE Nay, then he is a conjurer80.
DICK Nay, he can make obligations, and write court hand81.
CADE I am sorry for’t: the man is a proper82 man, of mine
honour: unless I find him guilty, he shall not die.
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