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'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd;
Witness the fortune he hath had in France.

Som. If York, with all his far-fetch'd 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 loft my life betimes,
Than bring a burden of dishonour home,
By staying there so long till all were lost.
Shew me one scar character'd on thy kin:
Men's flesh, preserv'd fo whole, do seldom win.

Q. Mar. Nay then, this spark will prove a raging If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with. [tire, No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be itilī. Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been Regent there, Might happily have prov'd far worse than his. York. What, worle than nought? 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;Th' uncivil kerns 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 country sonie, And try your hap against the Irithmen?

York. I will, my Lord, io please his Majesty.

Suf. Why, our authority is his consent,
And what we do establiin, he confirms :
Then, noble York, iake thou this task in hand.

York. I am content. Provide me soldiers, Lords,
Whilst I take orders for nine own affairs.
Suf. A charge, Lord York, that I will see pere

formid. But now return we to the false Duke Humphry.

Car. No more of himn; for I will deal with him, That henceforth he shall trouble us no more. And so break off. The day is almost ipent. 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 l'll Thip them all for Ireland. Suf. I'I see it truly done, my Lord of York:

[Exeunt.

S CE N E V.

Manet York. York. Now, York, or never steel thy fearful And change misdoubt to resolution; [thoughts, Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art Resign to death, it is not worth th' enjoying. Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born inan, And find no harbour in a royal heart. Fafter than spring-time show'rs coines thought on

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

Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me; I take it kindly; yet be well assur'd, You put sharp weapons in a mad man's hands. Whilft I in Ireland nourish a mighty band, I will stir up in England some black storm, Shall blow ten thousand fouls to heav'n 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 calnı the fury of this mad-brain'd flaw. And, for a minister of my intent, I have seduc'd a headstrong Kentish man, John Cade of Alhford, To make commotion, as full well he can, Under the title of John Mortimer. In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade Oppc - himself against a troop of kerns; And fought so long, till that his thiglis with darts Were almost like a sharp-quili'd porcupine; And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen Himn caper upright like a wild Morisco, Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells. Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern,

Hath he conversed with the enemy;
And uindiscover'd come to me again,
And giv'n 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 Cominons' mind,
How they affect the house and claim of York.
Say he be taken, rack'd-and tortured;
I know no pain they can inflict upon him,
Will make him say, 1 mov'd him to those arms.
Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will;
Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reap the harvest which that rascal low'd:
For Humphry being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put apart, the next for me. [Exit.

S "CE N E "VI.
An Apartment in the Palace.

Enter two or three, running over the stage, from the

murder of Duke Humphry. First. Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded.

Second. Oh that it were to do! what have we done? Didit ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter Suffolk. First. Here comes my Lord. Su Now, Sir, have you dispatch'd this thing? First. Ay, my good Lord, he's dead.

Suf. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my I will reward you for this vent'rous deed. [house: The King and all the peers are here at hand. *Have you laid 'fair the bed? are all things weli, According as I gave directions?

First. Yes, my good Lord.

Suf. Away, be gone. [Exeunt 'murderers. Enter King Henry, the Queen, Cardinal, Somerses,

with Aitendants. K. Henry. Go, call our uncle to our presence, forait,

you all,

Say we intend to try his Grace to-day,
If he be guilty, as 'tis published.

Suf. l’ls call him presently, my noble Lord. [Exis.

K. Henry. Lords, take your places. And, I pray Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Glo'ster, Than from true evidence, of good esteen, He be approv'd in practice culpable.

l. Mar. God forbid any malice flould prevail, That faultless may condenm a nobleman! Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion ! K. Henry. I thank thee. Well, these words come tent me much.

Enter Suffolk. How now? why look'st thou so pale ? why tremblest

thou? Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?

Suf. Dead in his bed, my Lord; Glo'ster is dead. Q. Mar. Marry, God forefend! Car. God's tecret judgment. I did dream to-night, The Duke was dumb, and could not speak a word.

[King Swoons. R. Mar. How fares my Lord ? hesp, Lords, the

King is dead. Som. Rear up his body, wring him by the nose. Q. Mar. Run, go, help, help. Oh, Henry, ope

thine eyes! Suf. He doth revive again. Madam, be patient. K. Henry. O heav'nly God! 2. Mar. How fares my gracious Lord? Suf. Comfort, my Sovereign ; gracious Henry,

comfort. K. Henry. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk coma

fort me?
Came he riglit now to sing a raven's note,
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital pow'rs?
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 ugar'd words)
Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say;
VOL. VI.

M

Their touch affrights me as a ferpent's (ting.
Thou baleful mellenger, out of my light!
Upon thy eye-balls murd'rous tyranny
Sits in grim majesty to fright the world.
Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding!
Yet do not go away-come, basilifk,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death I shall find joy ;
In life but double death now Glo'ster's dead.

l. Mar. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk
Although the Duke was enemy to him, [thus?
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 recal his life,
I would be blind with weeping, fick with groans,
Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking lighs,
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 all my name with flander's tongue be wounded,
And princes' courts be filld with my reproach.
This

get

I by his death. Ah, me unhappy! To be a Queen, and crown’d with infamy.

K. Henry, Ah, woe is me for Glo'ster, wretched

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 pois'nous too, and kill thy forlorn Queen. Is all thy comfort Mut in Glo'ster's tomb? Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy. Erect his statue, and do worship to it, And make my image but an ale-house sign. Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea, And twice by adverse winds from England's bank Drove back again unto my native clime? What boded this? but well-fore-warning winds Did leem to say, seek not a scorpion's nest, Nor set no footing on this unkind shore.

man!

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