York. That Somerset be sent as regent thither; 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd; Witness the fortune he hath had in France.

Som. If York, with all his far-fet policy,
Had been the regent there instead of me,
He never would have staid in France so long.
York. No, not to lose it all as thou hast done:
I rather would have lost my life betimes,
Than bring a burden of dishonour home,
By staying there so long, till all were lost.
Show me one scar character'd on thy skin:
Men's flesh preserv'd so whole, do seldom win.
Q. Mar. Nay then, this spark will prove a
raging fire,

If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with:
No more, good York ;-sweet Somerset, be still:
Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,
Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.
York. What, worse than naught? nay, then
a shame take all !

Som. And in the number, thee, that wishest shame!

Car. My lord of York, try what your fortune is.
The uncivil Kernes of Ireland are in arms,
And temper clay with blood of Englishmen :
To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
Collected choicely, from each county some,
And try your hap against the Irishmen ?
York. I will, my lord, so please his majesty.
Suf. Why, our authority is his consent;
And what we do establish he confirms:
Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.
York. I am content: Provide me soldiers, lords,
Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.
Suf. A charge, lord York, that I will see
perform'd.

But now return we to the false duke Humphrey.
Car. 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.

Suf. I'll see it truly done, my lord of York.
[Exeunt all but YORK.
York. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful
thoughts,

And change misdoubt to resolution:

Be that thou hop'st to be; or what thou art
Resign to death, it is not worth the enjoying:
Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man,
And find no harbour in a royal heart.
Faster than spring-time showers comes thought
on thought;

HISTORIES.-VOL. II. H

And not a thought but thinks on dignity.
My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,
Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
Well, nobles, well, 't is politicly done,
To send me packing with an host of men:
I fear me you but warm the starved snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your
hearts.

'T was men I lack'd, and you will give then me :
I take it kindly; yet, be well assur'd
You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands.
Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
I will stir up in England some black storm
Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell:
And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage
Until the golden circuit on my head,
Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw."
And, for a minister of my intent,

I have seduc'd a head-strong Kentishman,
John Cade of Ashford,

To make commotion, as full well he can,
Under the title of John Mortimer.

In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade
Oppose himself against a troop of Kernes;
And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts
Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porcupine:
And, in the end being rescued, I have seen him
Caper upright like a wild Morisco,b
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty Kerne,
Hath he conversed with the enemy;
And undiscover'd come to me again,
And given me notice of their villainies.
This devil here shall be my substitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble :
By this I shall perceive the commons' mind,
How they affect the house and claim of York.
Say, he be taken, rack'd, and tortur'd;

I know no pain they can inflict upon him,
Will make him say-I mov'd him to those arms.
Say, that he thrive, (as 't is great like he will,)
Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd:
For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put apart, the next for me.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-Bury. A Room in the Palace. Enter certain Murderers, hastily.

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

Flaw a sudden gust of wind.

b Morisco. This term probably points at the Moorish origin of the morris-dance.

97

2 Mur. O, that it were to do!-What have we done?

Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter SUFFOLK.

1 Mur. Here comes my lord.

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

1 Mur. Ay, my good lord, he's dead.
Suf. Why that's well said. Go, get you to my
house;

I will reward you for this venturous deed.
The king and all the peers are here at hand :-
Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well,
According as I gave directions?

1 Mur. 'Tis, my good lord.
Suf. Away, be gone!

[Exeunt Murderers.

Enter KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDI-
NAL BEAUFORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and others.
K. Hen. Go, call our uncle to our presence
straight:

Say, we intend to try his grace to-day,
If he be guilty, as 't is published.

Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord.

[Exit.

K. Hen. Lords, take your places :-And, I pray you all

Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster,
Than from true evidence, of good esteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid any malice should prevail, That faultless condemn a nobleman! may Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion! K. Hen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words content me much.

Re-enter SUFfolk.

How now? why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?

Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk? Suf. Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloster is dead.

Q. Mar. Marry, God forefend!

Car. God's secret judgment :-I did dream to-night

The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. [The KING Swoons. Q. Mar. How fares my lord ?-Help, lords! the king is dead.

Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the

nose.

Q. Mar. Run, go, help, help!-O Henry, ope thine eyes!

Suf. He doth revive again :-Madam, be patient.

K. Hen. O heavenly God!

Q. Mar. How fares my gracious lord?
Suf. Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry,

comfort!

K. Hen. What, doth my lord of Suffolk com-
fort me?

Came he right now to sing a raven's note,
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers;
And thinks he that the chirping of a wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chase away the first-conceived sound?
Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words:
Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting.
Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight!
Upon thy eye-balls 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, basilisk,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death I shall find joy;
In life but double death, now Gloster's dead.
Q. Mar. Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk
thus ?

Although the duke was enemy to him,
Yet he, most Christian-like, laments his death :
And for myself, foe as he was to me,
Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans,
Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,

I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs,

And all to have the noble duke alive.
What know I how the world may deem of me?
For it is known we were but hollow friends;
It may be judg'd I made the duke away:
So shall my name with slander's tongue be
wounded,

And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach.
This get I by his death: Ah me, unhappy!
To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!

K. Hen. Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched

man!

Q. Mar. Be woe for me, more wretched than
he is.

What, dost thou turn away, and hide thy face?
I am no loathsome leper, look on me.
What, art thou like the adder waxen deaf?
Be poisonous too, and kill thy forlorn queen.
Is all thy comfort shut in Gloster's tomb?
Why, then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy:
Erect his statua then, and worship it,
And make my image but an alehouse sign.

Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boded this, but well-forewarning wind
Did seem to say,-Seek not a scorpion's nest,
Nor set no footing on this unkind shore ?
What did I then, but curs'd the gentle gusts,
And he that loos'd them forth their brazen caves;
And bid them blow towards England's blessed
shore,

Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?
Yet Eolus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee:
The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me;
Knowing that thou would'st have me drown'd on
shore,

With tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness:
The splitting rocks cow'rd in the sinking sands,
And would not dash me with their ragged sides;
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perishb Margaret.
As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from thy shore the tempest beat us back,
I stood upon the hatches in the storm:
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view,
I took a costly jewel from my neck,—
A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,—
And threw it towards thy land; the sea re-
ceiv'd it;

And so I wish'd thy body might my heart:
And even with this I lost fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart;
And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles,
For losing ken of Albion's wished coast.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue
(The agent of thy foul inconstancy,)
To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did,
When he to madding Dido would unfold
His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy?
Am I not witch'd like her? or thou not false
like him?

Ah me, I can no more! Die, Margaret!
For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.

Noise within. Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY.
The Commons press to the door.
War. It is reported, mighty sovereign,
That good duke Humphrey traitorously is mur-
der'd

By Suffolk and the cardinal Beaufort's means.
The commons, like an angry hive of bees,

Awkward wind. The same epithet is used by Marlowe, and by Drayton

b Perish used actively, as destroy.

That want their leader, scatter up and down,
And care not who they sting in his revenge.
Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny,
Until they hear the order of his death.

K. Hen. That he is dead, good Warwick, 't is too true;

But how he died, Gods knows, not Henry:
Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse,
And comment then upon his sudden death.
War. That shall I do, my liege :- Stay, Salis-
bury,

With the rude multitude, till I return.

[WARWICK goes into an inner room, and SALISBURY retires.

K. Hen. O thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts;

My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's

life!

If my suspect be false, forgive me, God;
For judgment only doth belong to thee!
Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips
With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain
Upon his face an ocean of salt tears;
To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk,
And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling:
But all in vain are these mean obsequies;
And to survey his dead and earthy image,
What were it but to make my sorrow greater?
The folding doors of an inner chamber are thrown
open, and GLOSTER is discovered dead in his
bed: WARWICK and others standing by it."
War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view
this body.

K. Hen. That is, to see how deep my grave is made:

For with his soul fled all my worldly solace :
For seeing him, I see my life in death.

War. As surely as my soul intends to live With that dread King, that took our state upon him

To free us from his Father's wrathful curse,
I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke.

Suf. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn

tongue! What instance gives lord Warwick for his vow?

This direction is modern. There can be no doubt that, as the play was originally acted, the secondary stage (which we shall describe in Othello) was employed. In the First Part of the Contention' the murder itself takes place before the audience, as indicated by the following singular direction" Then the curtains being drawn, Duke Humphrey is discovered in his bed, and two men lying on his breast, and smothering him in his bed." At the present scene the direction in the folio is, "A bed with Gloster's body put forth."

War. See, how the blood is settled in his face!
Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost,a
Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless,
Being all descended to the labouring heart; b
Who, in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy;
Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er re-
turneth

To blush and beautify the cheek again.
But see, his face is black, and full of blood;
His eye-balls further out than when he liv'd,
Staring full ghastly like a strangled man:
His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with
struggling;

His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdued.

Look on the sheets, his hair, you see, is sticking;

His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,

Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodg'd.
It cannot be but he was murder'd here;
The least of all these signs were probable.
Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the duke
to death?

Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;
And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers.

War. But both of you were vow'd duke
Humphrey's foes;

And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep : 'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend; And 't is well seen he found an enemy.

Q. Mar. Then you, belike, suspect these

noblemen

As guilty of duke Humphrey's timeless death.

War. Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding

fresh,

And sees fast by a butcher with an axe, But will suspect 't was he that made the slaughter?

Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, But may imagine how the bird was dead, Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

Q. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk; where's your knife?

Is Beaufort term'd a kite; where are his talons? Suf. I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men; But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease, That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart

a Timely parted ghost. The word ghost was used somewhat vaguely by the old writers; it here undoubtedly means a body recently parted from the soul.

b The adjective bloodless, by a licence of construction, includes the substantive-the blood "being all descended," &c.

That slanders me with murder's crimson badge: Say, if thou dar'st, proud lord of Warwickshire, That I am faulty in duke Humphrey's death.

[Exeunt CARDINAL, SOM., and others. War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

Q. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,

Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,
Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.
War. Madam, be still, with reverence may I

For

say;

every word you speak in his behalf Is slander to your royal dignity.

Suf. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour! If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much, Thy mother took into her blameful bed Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock Was graft with crab-tree slip; whose fruit thou art,

And never of the Nevils' noble race.

War. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee,

And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,
Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,
I would, false murderous coward, on thy knee
Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech,
And say-It was thy mother that thou meant'st,
That thou thyself was born in bastardy:
And, after all this fearful homage done,
Give thee thy hire, and send thy soul to hell,
Pernicious bloodsucker of sleeping men!
Suf. Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy
blood,

If from this presence thou dar'st go with me.
War. Away even now, or I will drag thee

hence:

Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee, And do some service to duke Humphrey's ghost. [Exeunt SUFFOLK and WARWICK. K. Hen. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!

Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just;
And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,
Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.
[A noise within.

Q. Mar. What noise is this?

Re-enter SUFFOLK and WARWICK, with their weapons drawn.

K. Hen. Why, how now, lords? your wrathful weapons drawn

Here in our presence? dare you be SO bold?Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?

Suf. The traitorous Warwick, with the men of
Bury,

Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.

Noise of a crowd within. Re-enter SALISBURY. Sal. Sirs, stand apart; the king shall know your mind.-[Speaking to those within. Dread lord, the commons send you word by me, Unless lord Suffolk straight be done to death, Or banished fair England's territories, They will by violence tear him from your palace, And torture him with grievous ling'ring death. They say, by him the good duke Humphrey died; They say, in him they fear your highness' death; And mere instinct of love, and loyalty,Free from a stubborn opposite intent, As being thought to contradict your liking,— Makes them thus forward in his banishment. They say, in care of your most royal person, That, if your highness should intend to sleep, And charge that no man should disturb your rest, In pain of your dislike, or pain of death; Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict, Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue, That slily glided towards your majesty, It were but necessary you were wak'd; Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal: And therefore do they cry, though you forbid, That they will guard you whe'r you will or no, From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is; With whose envenomed and fatal sting, Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth, They say, is shamefully bereft of life. Commons. [Within.] An answer from the king, my lord of Salisbury.

Suf. 'Tis like, the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,

Could send such message to their sovereign :
But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
To show how quaint an orator you are:
But all the honour Salisbury hath won,
Is, that he was the lord ambassador,
Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.
Commons. [Within.] An answer from the king,
or we will all break in.

K. Hen. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from

me,

I thank them for their tender loving care;
And had I not been 'cited so by them,
Yet did I purpose as they do entreat;
For sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy
Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means.
And therefore, by His majesty I swear,
Whose far unworthy deputy I am,

He shall not breathe infection in this air But three days longer, on the pain of death. [Exit SALISBURY.

Q. Mar. O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!

K. Hen. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle
Suffolk.

No more,
I say; if thou dost plead for him
Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
Had I but said, I would have kept my word;
But when I swear, it is irrevocable:

If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found
On any ground that I am ruler of,

The world shall not be ransom for thy life.
Come, Warwick, come good Warwick, go with

me:

I have great matters to impart to thee.

[Exeunt K. HENRY, WARWICK, Lords, &c. Q. Mar. Mischance and sorrow go along with you!

Heart's discontent, and sour affliction,
Be playfellows to keep you company!
There's two of you; the devil make a third!
And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps!
Suf. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

Q. Mar. Fie, coward woman, and soft-hearted wretch !

Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies? Suf. A plague upon them! wherefore should

I curse them?

Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,
I would invent as bitter searching terms,
As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
With full as many signs of deadly hate,
As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave:
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest
words;

Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract;
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
And even now my burden'd heart would break,
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees!
Their chiefest prospect murdering basilisks!
Their softest touch as smart as lizards' stings!
Their music frightful as the serpents' hiss;
And boding screech-owls make the concert full!
All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell-

Q. Mar. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself;

And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst

glass,