* Knowing, that thou would'st have me drown'd on shore With tears as salt as sea through thy unkind ness: The splitting rocks cow'r'd 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 perish Margaret. And far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,' * When from the 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 receiv'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 loosing ken of Albion's wished coast. 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 By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means. too true; But how he died, God knows, not Henry: Salisbury, Stay, 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 judgement only doth belong to thee! *Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain *To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk, 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. state War. As surely as my soul intends to live With that dread King, that took our upon him To free us from his Father's wrathful curse, What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow? War. See, how the blood is settled in his face! Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and blood less, Being all descended to the labouring heart; To blush and beautify the ckeek again. His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling; His hands abroad display'd, as on that grasp'd Aud tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdu'd. Look on the sheets, his hair, sticking; you see, is His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged, Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodg'd. Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the 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 'tis 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, 'twas he that made the slaughter? Q. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk? where's 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, [Exeunt Cardinal, Som, and Others. War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dares hin? Q. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit, Nor cease to be an arrogant controller, Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times. For every word, you speak in his behalf, Suf. Blunt-witted Lord, ignoble in demean our! If ever lady wrong'd her Lord so much, 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 |