326

  As lean-faced Envy in her loathsome cave.

  327

  My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;

  328

  Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;

  329

  Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract;

  330

  Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban;

  331

  And even now my burdened heart would break

  332

  Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!

  333

  Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste;

  334

  Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees;

  335

  Their chiefest prospect, murd’ring basilisks;

  336

  Their softest touch, as smart as lizards’ stings!

  337

  Their music, frightful as the serpent’s hiss,

  338

  And boding screech owls make the consort full!

  339

  All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell—

  340

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment’st thyself,

  341

  And these dread curses, like the sun ’gainst glass,

  342

  Or like an over-chargèd gun, recoil

  343

  And the force of them upon thyself.

  344

  SUFFOLK

  You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?

  345

  Now, by the ground that I am banished from,

  346

  Well could I curse away a winter’s night,

  347

  Though standing naked on a mountain top

  348

  Where biting cold would never let grass grow,

  349

  And think it but a minute spent in sport.

  350

  QUEEN MARGARET

  O, let me entreat thee cease! Give me thy hand,

  351

  That I may dew it with my mournful tears;

  352

  Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place

  353

  To wash away my woeful monuments.

  354

 

  O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,

  355

  That thou mightst think upon these by the seal,

  356

  Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for

  357

  thee!

  358

  So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;

  359

  ’Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by,

  360

  As one that surfeits thinking on a want.

  361

  I will repeal thee, or, be well assured,

  362

  Adventure to be banishèd myself;

  363

  And banishèd I am, if but from thee.

  364

  Go, speak not to me. Even now be gone!

  365

  O, go not yet! Even thus two friends condemned

  366

  Embrace and kiss and take ten thousand leaves,

  367

  Loather a hundred times to part than die.

  368

 

  Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.

  369

  SUFFOLK

  Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banishèd,

  370

  Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.

  371

  ’Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence.

  372

  A wilderness is populous enough,

  373

  So Suffolk had thy heavenly company;

  374

  For where thou art, there is the world itself,

  375

  With every several pleasure in the world;

  376

  And where thou art not, desolation.

  377

  I can no more. Live thou to joy thy life;

  378

  Myself no joy in naught but that thou liv’st.

  379

  Enter Vaux.

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Whither goes Vaux so fast? What news, I prithee?

  380

  VAUX  To signify unto his Majesty,

  381

  That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death;

  382

  For suddenly a grievous sickness took him

  383

  That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air,

  384

  Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.

  385

  Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey’s ghost

  386

  Were by his side; sometimes he calls the King

  387

  And whispers to his pillow, as to him,

  388

  The secrets of his overchargèd soul.

  389

  And I am sent to tell his Majesty

  390

  That even now he cries aloud for him.

  391

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Go, tell this heavy message to the King.

  392

  exits.

  Ay me! What is this world? What news are these!

  393

  But wherefore grieve I at an hour’s poor loss,

  394

  Omitting Suffolk’s exile, my soul’s treasure?

  395

  Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,

  396

  And with the southern clouds contend in tears—

  397

  Theirs for the earth’s increase, mine for my

  398

  sorrows’?

  399

  Now get thee hence. The King, thou know’st, is

  400

  coming;

  401

  If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.

  402

  SUFFOLK

  If I depart from thee, I cannot live;

  403

  And in thy sight to die, what were it else

  404

  But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?

  405

  Here could I breathe my soul into the air,

  406

  As mild and gentle as the cradle babe

  407

  Dying with mother’s dug between its lips;

  408

  Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad

  409

  And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,

  410

  To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth.

  411

  So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul,

  412

  Or I should breathe it so into thy body,

  413

  And then it lived in sweet Elysium.

  414

  To die by thee were but to die in jest;

  415

  From thee to die were torture more than death.

  416

  O, let me stay, befall what may befall!

  417

  QUEEN MARGARET

  Away! Though parting be a fretful corrosive,

  418

  It is applièd to a deathful wound.

  419

  To France, sweet Suffolk. Let me hear from thee,

  420

  For wheresoe’er thou art in this world’s globe,

  421

  I’ll have an Iris that shall find thee out.

  422

  SUFFOLK  I go.

  423

  QUEEN MARGARET  And take my heart with thee.

  424

  SUFFOLK

  A jewel locked into the woefull’st cask

  425

  That ever did contain a thing of worth!

  426

  Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we.

  427

  This way fall I to death.

  428

  QUEEN MARGARET This way for me.

  429

  They exit

 

  Enter King Salisbury and Warwick, to the

  Cardinal in bed,

  KING HENRY

  How fares my lord? Speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.

  1

  CARDINAL

  If thou be’st Death, I’ll give thee England’s treasure,

  2

  Enough to purchase such another island,

  3

  So thou wilt let me live and feel no pain.

  4

  KING HENRY

  Ah, what a sign it is of evil life,

  5

  Where Death’s approach is seen so terrible!

  6

  WARWICK

  Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.

  7

  CARDINAL

  Bring me unto my trial when you will.

  8

  Died he not in his bed? Where should he die?

  9

  Can I make men live, whe’er they will or no?

  10

  O, torture me no more! I will confess.

  11

  Alive again? Then show me where he is.

  12

  I’ll give a thousand pound to look upon him.

  13

  He hath no eyes! The dust hath blinded them.

  14

  Comb down his hair. Look, look. It stands upright,

  15

  Like lime-twigs set to catch my wingèd soul.

  16

  Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary

  17

  Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.

  18

  KING HENRY

  O, Thou eternal mover of the heavens,

  19

  Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch!

  20

  O, beat away the busy meddling fiend

  21

  That lays strong siege unto this wretch’s soul,

  22

  And from his bosom purge this black despair!

  23

  WARWICK

  See how the pangs of death do make him grin!

  24

  SALISBURY

  Disturb him not. Let him pass peaceably.

  25

  KING HENRY

  Peace to his soul, if God’s good pleasure be!—

  26

  Lord Card’nal, if thou think’st on heaven’s bliss,

  27

  Hold up thy hand; make signal of thy hope.

  28

 

  He dies and makes no sign. O, God forgive him!

  29

  WARWICK

  So bad a death argues a monstrous life.

  30

  KING HENRY

  Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.

  31

  Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close,

  32

  And let us all to meditation.

  33

 
  the bed,> they exit.

  HENRY VI

  Part 2

  * * *

  ACT 4

 

  * * *

 

  Alarum. fight at sea. Ordnance goes off.

  Enter Lieutenant, Suffolk,

  and Others,
  Walter Whitmore, and Prisoners.>

  LIEUTENANT

  The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day

  1

  Is crept into the bosom of the sea,

  2

  And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades

  3

  That drag the tragic melancholy night,

  4

  Who, with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings

  5

  Clip dead men’s graves, and from their misty jaws

  6

  Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.

  7

  Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;

  8

  For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,

  9

  Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,

  10

  Or with their blood stain this discolored shore.—

  11

  Master, this prisoner freely give I thee.—

  12

  And, thou that art his mate, make boot of this.—

  13

  The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

  14

 
  are handed over.>

  FIRST GENTLEMAN

  What is my ransom, master? Let me know.

  15

  MASTER

  A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.

  16

  MATE,

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

  17

  LIEUTENANT

  What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,

  18

  And bear the name and port of gentlemen?—

  19

  Cut both the villains’ throats—for die you shall;

  20

  The lives of those which we have lost in fight

  21

  Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!

  22

  FIRST GENTLEMAN

  I’ll give it, sir, and therefore spare my life.

  23

  SECOND GENTLEMAN

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

  24

  WHITMORE,

  I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,

  25

  And therefore to revenge it shalt thou die;

  26

  And so should these, if I might have my will.

  27

  LIEUTENANT

  Be not so rash. Take ransom; let him live.

  28

  SUFFOLK

  Look on my George; I am a gentleman.

  29

  Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.

  30

  WHITMORE

  And so am I. My name is Walter Whitmore.

  31

 

  How now, why starts thou? What, doth death

  32

  affright?

  33

  SUFFOLK

  Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.

  34

  A cunning man did calculate my birth

  35

  And told me that by water I should die.

  36

  Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;

  37

  Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded.

  38

  WHITMORE

  Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not.

  39

  Never yet did base dishonor blur our name

  40

  But with our sword we wiped away the blot.

  41

  Therefore, when merchantlike I sell revenge,

  42

  Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,

  43

  And I proclaimed a coward through the world!

  44

  SUFFOLK

  Stay, Whitmore, for thy prisoner is a prince,