My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days

  330

  At Bristow I expect my soldiers,

  331

  For there I’ll ship them all for Ireland.

  332

  SUFFOLK

  I’ll see it truly done, my lord of York.

  333

  All but York exit.

  YORK

  Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts

  334

  And change misdoubt to resolution.

  335

  Be that thou hop’st to be, or what thou art

  336

  Resign to death; it is not worth th’ enjoying.

  337

  Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man

  338

  And find no harbor in a royal heart.

  339

  Faster than springtime showers comes thought on

  340

  thought,

  341

  And not a thought but thinks on dignity.

  342

  My brain, more busy than the laboring spider,

  343

  Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.

  344

  Well, nobles, well, ’tis politicly done

  345

  To send me packing with an host of men.

  346

  I fear me you but warm the starvèd snake,

  347

  Who, cherished in your breasts, will sting your

  348

  hearts.

  349

  ’Twas men I lacked, and you will give them me;

  350

  I take it kindly. Yet be well assured

  351

  You put sharp weapons in a madman’s hands.

  352

  Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,

  353

  I will stir up in England some black storm

  354

  Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell;

  355

  And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage

  356

  Until the golden circuit on my head,

  357

  Like to the glorious sun’s transparent beams,

  358

  Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.

  359

  And for a minister of my intent,

  360

  I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman,

  361

  John Cade of Ashford,

  362

  To make commotion, as full well he can,

  363

  Under the title of John Mortimer.

  364

  In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade

  365

  Oppose himself against a troop of kerns,

  366

  And fought so long till that his thighs with darts

  367

  Were almost like a sharp-quilled porpentine;

  368

  And in the end being rescued, I have seen

  369

  Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,

  370

  Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells.

  371

  Full often, like a shag-haired crafty kern,

  372

  Hath he conversèd with the enemy,

  373

  And undiscovered come to me again

  374

  And given me notice of their villainies.

  375

  This devil here shall be my substitute;

  376

  For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,

  377

  In face, in gait, in speech he doth resemble.

  378

  By this, I shall perceive the Commons’ mind,

  379

  How they affect the house and claim of York.

  380

  Say he be taken, racked, and torturèd,

  381

  I know no pain they can inflict upon him

  382

  Will make him say I moved him to those arms.

  383

  Say that he thrive, as ’tis great like he will,

  384

  Why then from Ireland come I with my strength

  385

  And reap the harvest which that rascal sowed.

  386

  For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,

  387

  And Henry put apart, the next for me.

  388

  He exits.

 

  Enter two or three running over the stage, from the

  murder of Duke Humphrey.

  FIRST MURDERER

  Run to my lord of Suffolk. Let him know

  1

  We have dispatched the Duke as he commanded.

  2

  SECOND MURDERER

  O, that it were to do! What have we done?

  3

  Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

  4

  Enter Suffolk.

  FIRST MURDERER  Here comes my lord.

  5

  SUFFOLK  Now, sirs, have you dispatched this thing?

  6

  FIRST MURDERER  Ay, my good lord, he’s dead.

  7

  SUFFOLK

  Why, that’s well said. Go, get you to my house;

  8

  I will reward you for this venturous deed.

  9

  The King and all the peers are here at hand.

  10

  Have you laid fair the bed? Is all things well,

  11

  According as I gave directions?

  12

  FIRST MURDERER  ’Tis, my good lord.

  13

  SUFFOLK  Away, be gone.

  14

  exit.

  Sound trumpets. Enter King Queen

  Cardinal, Somerset, with Attendants.

  KING HENRY

  Go, call our uncle to our presence straight.

  15

  Say we intend to try his Grace today

  16

  If he be guilty, as ’tis publishèd.

  17

  SUFFOLK

  I’ll call him presently, my noble lord.

  18

  He exits.

  KING HENRY

  Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,

  19

  Proceed no straiter ’gainst our uncle Gloucester

  20

  Than from true evidence of good esteem

  21

  He be approved in practice culpable.

  22

  QUEEN MARGARET

  God forbid any malice should prevail

  23

  That faultless may condemn a nobleman!

  24

  Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!

  25

  KING HENRY

  I thank thee, These words content me much.

  26

  Enter Suffolk.

  How now? Why look’st thou pale? Why tremblest

  27

  thou?

  28

  Where is our uncle? What’s the matter, Suffolk?

  29

  SUFFOLK

  Dead in his bed, my lord. Gloucester is dead.

  30

  QUEEN MARGARET  Marry, God forfend!

  31

  CARDINAL

  God’s secret judgment. I did dream tonight

  32

  The Duke was dumb and could not speak a word.

  33

  King swoons.

  QUEEN MARGARET

  How fares my lord? Help, lords, the King is dead!

  34

  SOMERSET

  Rear up his body. Wring him by the nose.

  35

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!

  36

 

  SUFFOLK

  He doth revive again. Madam, be patient.

  37

  KING HENRY

  O heavenly God!

  38

  QUEEN MARGARET How fares my gracious lord?

  39

  SUFFOLK

  Comfort, my sovereign! Gracious Henry, comfort!

  40

  KING HENRY

  What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me?

  41

  Came he right now to sing a raven’s note,

  42

  Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers,

  43

  And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,

  44

  By crying comfort from a hollow breast,

  45

  Can chase away the first-conceivèd sound?

  46

  Hide not thy poison with such sugared words.

  47

  Lay not thy hands on me. Forbear, I say!

  48

  Their touch affrights me as a serpent’s sting.

  49

  Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!

  50

  Upon thy eyeballs, murderous Tyranny

  51

  Sits in grim majesty to fright the world.

  52

  Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding.

  53

  Yet do not go away. Come, basilisk,

  54

  And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight;

  55

  For in the shade of death I shall find joy,

  56

  In life but double death, now Gloucester’s dead.

  57

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk thus?

  58

  Although the Duke was enemy to him,

  59

  Yet he most Christian-like laments his death.

  60

  And for myself, foe as he was to me,

  61

  Might liquid tears or heart-offending groans

  62

  Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,

  63

  I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,

  64

  Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,

  65

  And all to have the noble duke alive.

  66

  What know I how the world may deem of me?

  67

  For it is known we were but hollow friends.

  68

  It may be judged I made the Duke away;

  69

  So shall my name with slander’s tongue be wounded

  70

  And princes’ courts be filled with my reproach.

  71

  This get I by his death. Ay me, unhappy,

  72

  To be a queen and crowned with infamy!

  73

  KING HENRY

  Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man!

  74

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.

  75

  What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face?

  76

  I am no loathsome leper. Look on me.

  77

  What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf?

  78

  Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen.

  79

  Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester’s tomb?

  80

  Why, then, Dame was ne’er thy joy.

  81

  Erect his statue and worship it,

  82

  And make my image but an alehouse sign.

  83

  Was I for this nigh-wracked upon the sea

  84

  And twice by awkward wind from England’s bank

  85

  Drove back again unto my native clime?

  86

  What boded this, but well forewarning wind

  87

  Did seem to say “Seek not a scorpion’s nest,

  88

  Nor set no footing on this unkind shore”?

  89

  What did I then but cursed the gentle gusts

  90

  And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves

  91

  And bid them blow towards England’s blessèd shore

  92

  Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?

  93

  Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer,

  94

  But left that hateful office unto thee.

  95

  The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me,

  96

  Knowing that thou wouldst have me drowned on

  97

  shore

  98

  With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness.

  99

  The splitting rocks cow’red in the sinking sands

  100

  And would not dash me with their ragged sides

  101

  Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,

  102

  Might in thy palace perish

  103

  As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,

  104

  When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,

  105

  I stood upon the hatches in the storm,

  106

  And when the dusky sky began to rob

  107

  My earnest-gaping sight of thy land’s view,

  108

  I took a costly jewel from my neck—

  109

  A heart it was, bound in with diamonds—

  110

  And threw it towards thy land. The sea received it,

  111

  And so I wished thy body might my heart.

  112

  And even with this I lost fair England’s view,

  113

  And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart,

  114

  And called them blind and dusky spectacles

  115

  For losing ken of Albion’s wishèd coast.

  116

  How often have I tempted Suffolk’s tongue,

  117

  The agent of thy foul inconstancy,

  118

  To sit and watch me, as Ascanius did

  119

  When he to madding Dido would unfold

  120

  His father’s acts commenced in burning Troy!

  121

  Am I not witched like her, or thou not false like

  122

  him?

  123

  Ay me, I can no more. Die,

  124

  For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.

  125

  Noise within. Enter Warwick

  and many Commons.

  WARWICK

  It is reported, mighty sovereign,

  126

  That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murdered

  127

  By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort’s means.

  128

  The Commons, like an angry hive of bees

  129

  That want their leader, scatter up and down

  130

  And care not who they sting in his revenge.

  131

  Myself have calmed their spleenful mutiny,

  132

  Until they hear the order of his death.

  133

  KING HENRY

  That he is dead, good Warwick, ’tis too true;

  134

  But how he died God knows, not Henry.

  135

  Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,

  136

  And comment then upon his sudden death.

  137

  WARWICK