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, To make commotion, as full, well he can, * 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 ober * Were almost like a sharp quill'd porcupine: * And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen him Caper upright like a wild Morisco, * * Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells. For that John Mortimer, which now is dead, In faces 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 tortured; I know, no pain, they can inflict upon him, Will make him say I mov'd him to those 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, sow'd: For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, "And Henry put apart, the next for me. [Exit. Enter certain Murderers, hastily. * 1. Mur. Run to my lord of Suffolk let him know, Sip ad * We have despatch'd the Duke, as he commanded. / ་ 1. Despatch'd this thing? What have Mur. Ay, my good Lord, he's dead. I will reward you for this venturous deed. 1. Mur. Tis, my good Lord. Suf. Away, be gone! [Exeunt Murderers. Car Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, dinal 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 If he be guilty, as 'tis published. Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble Lord. K. Hen. Lords, take your places; I pray you all, [Exit. And, Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice should baby prevail, 7 * That faultless may condemn a nobleman! * 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 is the matter Suf folk? Suf. Dead in his bed, my Lord; Gloster is dead. *Q Mar. Marry, God forefend! * Čar. God's secret judgement: to-night, ,, I did dream 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; VOL. XI. patient. Madam, be 5% *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 comfort 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 1 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 statue then, and worship it, * And make my image but an alehouse sign. Was I, for this, nigh wreck'd upon the sea: And twice by aukward wind from England's bank Drove back again unto my native clime? What boded this, but well-fore-warning 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 from their brazen caves; And hid them blow towards England's blessed shore, * Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? *Yet Aeolus would not be a murderer, But left that hateful office unto thee: The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me; |