# Henry VI Part 2 (1923) Yale/Text/Act III

Layout 2
ACT THIRD
Scene One
[The Abbey at Bury St. Edmunds]
Sound a sennet. Enter King, Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwick, to the Parliament.
King. I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come: 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.
Queen. Can you not see? or will ye not observe 4 The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? With what a majesty he bears himself, How insolent of late he is become, How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself? 8 We know the time since he was mild and affable, And if we did but glance a far-off look, ​Immediately he was upon his knee, That all the court admir'd him for submission: 12 But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, When everyone will give the time of day, He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee, 16 Disdaining duty that to us belongs. Small curs are not regarded when they grin, But great men tremble when the lion roars; And Humphrey is no little man in England. 20 First note that he is near you in descent, And should you fall, he is the next will mount. Me seemeth then it is no policy, Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears, 24 And his advantage following your decease, That he should come about your royal person Or be admitted to your highness' council. By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, 28 And when he please to make commotion, 'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted; Suffer them now and they'll o'ergrow the garden, 32 And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. The reverent care I bear unto my lord Made me collect these dangers in the duke. If it be fond, call it a woman's fear; 36 Which fear if better reasons can supplant, I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, Reprove my allegation if you can 40 ​Or else conclude my words effectual.
Suf. Well hath your highness seen into this duke; And had I first been put to speak my mind, I think I should have told your Grace's tale. 44 The duchess, by his subornation, Upon my life, began her devilish practices: Or if he were not privy to those faults, Yet, by reputing of his high descent, 48 As, next the king he was successive heir, And such high vaunts of his nobility, Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess, By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. 52 Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep, And in his simple show he harbours treason. The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb: No, no, my sovereign; Gloucester is a man 56 Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.
Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done?
York. And did he not, in his protectorship, 60 Levy great sums of money through the realm For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? By means whereof the towns each day revolted.
Buck. Tut! these are petty faults to faults unknown, 64 Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke Humphrey.
King. My lords, at once: the care you have of us, To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, Is worthy praise; but shall I speak my conscience, 68 Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent ​From meaning treason to our royal person, As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove. The duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given 72 To dream on evil, or to work my downfall.
Queen. Ah! what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd, For he's disposed as the hateful raven: 76 Is he a lamb; his skin is surely lent him, For he's inclin'd as is the ravenous wolf. Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit? Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all 80 Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.
Enter Somerset.
Som. All health unto my gracious sovereign!
King. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?
Som. That all your interest in those territories 84 Is utterly bereft you: all is lost.
King. Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done!
York. [Aside.] Cold news for me; for I had hope of France, As firmly as I hope for fertile England. 88 Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, And caterpillars eat my leaves away; But I will remedy this gear ere long, Or sell my title for a glorious grave. 92
Enter Gloucester.
Glo. All happiness unto my lord the king! ​Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long.
Suf. Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art: 96 I do arrest thee of high treason here.
Glo. Well, Suffolk, thou shalt not see me blush, Nor change my countenance for this arrest: A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 100 The purest spring is not so free from mud As I am clear from treason to my sovereign. Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?
York. 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, 104 And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay; By means whereof his highness hath lost France.
Glo. Is it but thought so? What are they that think it? I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, 108 Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, Ay, night by night, in studying good for England. That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, 112 Or any groat I hoarded to my use, Be brought against me at my trial-day! No; many a pound of mine own proper store, Because I would not tax the needy commons, 116 Have I dis-pursed to the garrisons, And never ask'd for restitution.
Car. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
Glo. I say no more than truth, so help me God! 120
York. In your protectorship you did devise Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of, ​That England was defam'd by tyranny.
Glo. Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was protector, 124 Pity was all the fault that was in me; For I should melt at an offender's tears, And lowly words were ransom for their fault. Unless it were a bloody murtherer, 128 Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers, I never gave them condign punishment: Murther, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd Above the felon or what trespass else. 132
Suf. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd: But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. I do arrest you in his highness' name, 136 And here commit you to my Lord Cardinal To keep until your further time of trial.
King. My Lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope That you will clear yourself from all suspect: 140 My conscience tells me you are innocent.
Glo. Ah! gracious lord, these days are dangerous. Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand; 144 Foul subornation is predominant, And equity exil'd your highness' land. I know their complot is to have my life; And if my death might make this island happy, 148 And prove the period of their tyranny, I would expend it with all willingness; But mine is made the prologue to their play; ​For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, 152 Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue 156 The envious load that lies upon his heart; And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, By false accuse doth level at my life: 160 And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up My liefest liege to be mine enemy. 164 Ay, all of you have laid your heads together; Myself had notice of your conventicles; And all to make away my guiltless life. I shall not want false witness to condemn me, 168 Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; The ancient proverb will be well effected: 'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.'
Car. My liege, his railing is intolerable. 172 If those that care to keep your royal person From treason's secret knife and traitor's rage Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at, And the offender granted scope of speech, 176 'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace.
Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, As if she had suborned some to swear 180 False allegations to o'erthrow his state?
​Queen. But I can give the loser leave to chide.
Glo. Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! 184 And well such losers may have leave to speak.
Buck. He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day. Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.
Car. Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. 188
Glo. Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch Before his legs be firm to bear his body: Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. Ah! that my fear were false, ah! that it were; 193 For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear.
Exit Gloucester [guarded].
King. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best Do or undo, as if ourself were here. 196
Queen. What! will your highness leave the parliament?
King. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief, Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes, My body round engirt with misery, 200 For what's more miserable than discontent? Ah! uncle Humphrey, in thy face I see The map of honour, truth, and loyalty; And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come 204 That e'er I prov'd thee false, or fear'd thy faith. What low'ring star now envies thy estate, That these great lords, and Margaret our queen, Do seek subversion of thy harmless life? 208 Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong; And as the butcher takes away the calf, And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays, ​Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house, 212 Even so, remorseless, have they borne him hence; And as the dam runs lowing up and down, Looking the way her harmless young one went, And can do nought but wail her darling's loss; 216 Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case, With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes Look after him, and cannot do him good; So mighty are his vowed enemies. 220 His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan, Say 'Who's a traitor, Gloucester he is none.' Exit.
Queen. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams. Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, 224 Too full of foolish pity; and Gloucester's show Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile With sorrow snares relenting passengers; Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowering bank, 228 With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child That for the beauty thinks it excellent. Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I,— And yet herein I judge mine own wit good,— 232 This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world, To rid us from the fear we have of him.
Car. That he should die is worthy policy; And yet we want a colour for his death. 236 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law.
Suf. But in my mind that were no policy: The king will labour still to save his life; The commons haply rise to save his life; 240 And yet we have but trivial argument, More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death.
​York. So that, by this, you would not have him die.
Suf. Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I. 244
York. 'Tis York that hath more reason for his death. But, my Lord Cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk, Say as you think, and speak it from your souls, Were 't not all one an empty eagle were set 248 To guard the chicken from a hungry kite, As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector?
Queen. So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
Suf. Madam, 'tis true: and were 't not madness, then, 252 To make the fox surveyor of the fold? Who, being accus'd a crafty murtherer, His guilt should be but idly posted over Because his purpose is not executed. 256 No; let him die, in that he is a fox, By nature prov'd an enemy to the flock, Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, As Humphrey, prov'd by reasons, to my liege. 260 And do not stand on quillets how to slay him: Be it by gins, by snares, by subtilty, Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how, So he be dead; for that is good deceit 264 Which mates him first that first intends deceit.
Queen. Thrice noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.
Suf. Not resolute, except so much were done, For things are often spoke and seldom meant; 268 But, that my heart accordeth with my tongue, Seeing the deed is meritorious, And to preserve my sovereign from his foe, ​Say but the word and I will be his priest. 272
Car. But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk, Ere you can take due orders for a priest: Say you consent and censure well the deed, And I'll provide his executioner; 276 I tender so the safety of my liege.
Suf. Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.
Queen. And so say I.
York. And I: and now we three have spoke it, 280 It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.
Enter a Post.
Post. Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain, To signify that rebels there are up, And put the Englishmen unto the sword. 284 Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime, Before the wound do grow uncurable; For, being green, there is great hope of help.
Car. A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! 288 What counsel give you in this weighty cause?
York. That Somerset be sent as regent thither. 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd; Witness the fortune he hath had in France. 292
Som. If York, with all his far-fet policy, Had been the regent there instead of me, He never would have stay'd in France so long.
York. No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done: 296 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: 300 ​Men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win.
Queen. 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: 304 Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.
York. What! worse than nought? nay, then a shame take all.
Som. And in the number thee, that wishest shame. 308
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, 312 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, 316 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. 320
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. 324 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 Bristow I expect my soldiers; 328 For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.
​Suf. I'll see it truly done, my Lord of York.
Exeunt. Manet York.
York. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, And change misdoubt to resolution: 332 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 man, And find no harbour in a royal heart. 336 Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought, And not a thought but thinks on dignity. My brain, more busy than the labouring spider, Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies. 340 Well, nobles, well; 'tis 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. 344 '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 madman's hands. Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band, 348 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, 352 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 headstrong Kentishman, 356 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 360 Oppose himself against a troop of kerns, And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine: And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen 364 Him 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, 368 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, 372 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 tortured, 376 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 'tis great like he will,— Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength, 380 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 Two
[Bury St. Edmunds. A Room in the Palace]
Enter two or three [murderers] running over the stage, from the murther of Duke Humphrey.
1. Mur. Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know We have dispatch'd the duke, as he commanded.
2. Mur. O! that it were to do. What have we done? Didst ever hear a man so penitent? 4
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; 8 I will reward you for this venturous deed. The king and all the peers are here at hand. Have you laid fair the bed? is all things well, According as I gave directions? 12
1. Mur. 'Tis, my good lord.
Suf. Away! be gone. Exeunt [Murderers].
Sound trumpets. Enter the King, the Queen, Cardinal, Somerset, with Attendants.
King. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight; Say, we intend to try his Grace to-day, 16 If he be guilty, as 'tis published.
Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. Exit.
King. Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all, Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester 20 ​Than from true evidence, of good esteem, He be approv'd in practice culpable.
Queen. God forbid any malice should prevail That faultless may condemn a nobleman! 24 Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion!
King. I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.
Enter Suffolk.
How now! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou? Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk? 28
Suf. Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead.
Queen. Marry, God forfend!
Car. God's secret judgment: I did dream to-night The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. 32
King swoons.
Queen. How fares my lord? Help, lords! the king is dead.
Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.
Queen. Run, go, help, help! O Henry, ope thine eyes!
Suf. He doth revive again. Madam, be patient. 36
King. O heavenly God!
Queen.How fares my gracious lord?
Suf. Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort!
King. What! doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to sing a raven's note, 40 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? 44 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! 48 Upon thy eyeballs 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, 52 And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight; For in the shade of death I shall find joy, In life but double death, now Gloucester's dead.
Queen. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus? 56 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 60 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. 64 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, 68 And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach. This get I by his death. Ay me, unhappy! To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!
King. Ah! woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man. 72
Queen. 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? 76 Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen. Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb? Why, then, Dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy: Erect his statua and worship it, 80 And make my image but an alehouse sign. Was I for this nigh wrack'd upon the sea, And twice by awkward wind from England's bank Drove back again unto my native clime? 84 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 88 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 Æolus would not be a murtherer, 92 But left that hateful office unto thee: The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me, Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore With tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness: 96 The splitting rocks cower'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. 100 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 104 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, 108 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 112 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, 116 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? Ay me! I can no more. Die, Margaret! 120 For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long.
Noise within. Enter Warwick and many Commons.
War. It is reported, mighty sovereign, That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means. 124 The commons, like an angry hive of bees That want their leader, scatter up and down, And care not who they sting in his revenge. Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny, 128 Until they hear the order of his death.
King. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true; But how he died God knows, not Henry. Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, 132 And comment then upon his sudden death.
War. That shall I do, my liege. Stay, Salisbury, With the rude multitude till I return. [Exit.]
King. O! thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts, 136 ​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. 140 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 deaf dumb trunk, 144 And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling: But all in vain are these mean obsequies,
Bed put forth [by Warwick].
And to survey his dead and earthy image What were it but to make my sorrow greater? 148
War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body.
King. 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. 152
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 156 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?
War. See how the blood is settled in his face. 160 Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost, Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless, Being all descended to the labouring heart; Who, in the conflict that it holds with death, 164 Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy; Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth ​To blush and beautify the cheek again. But see, his face is black and full of blood, 168 His eyeballs 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 172 And tugg'd for life, and was by strength subdu'd. 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. 176 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; 180 And we, I hope, sir, are no murtherers.
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, 184 And 'tis well seen he found an enemy.
Queen. Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.
War. Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding fresh, 188 And sees fast by a butcher with an axe, But will suspect 'twas he that made the slaughter? Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest, But may imagine how the bird was dead, 192 Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? Even so suspicious is this tragedy.
​Queen. Are you the butcher, Suffolk? where's your knife? Is Beaufort term'd a kite? where are his talons? 196
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 That slanders me with murther's crimson badge. 200 Say, if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire, That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.
War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him? 203
Queen. 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 say; For every word you speak in his behalf 208 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 212 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 murther bucklers thee, 216 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 murd'rous coward, on thy knee 220 Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech, And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st; That thou thyself wast born in bastardy: And after all this fearful homage done, 224 ​Give thee thy hire, and send thy soul to hell, Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men.
Suf. Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood, If from this presence thou dar'st go with me. 228
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].
King. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted 232 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.
Queen. What noise is this? 236
Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn.
King. 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 trait'rous Warwick, with the men of Bury, 240 Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.
Enter Salisbury.
Sal. [Speaking to those within.] Sirs, stand apart; the king shall know your mind. Dread lord, the commons send you word by me, Unless false Suffolk straight be done to death, 244 Or banished fair England's territories, They will by violence tear him from your palace And torture him with grievous lingering death. They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died; 248 ​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, 252 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 256 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, 260 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, 264 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, 268 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; 272 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, 276 Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.
Within. An answer from the king, or we will all break in!
​King. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, I thank them for their tender loving care; 280 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: 284 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. 288
[Exit Salisbury.]
Queen. O Henry! let me plead for gentle Suffolk.
King. 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. 292 Had I but said, I would have kept my word, But when I swear, it is irrevocable. [To Suffolk.] If after three days' space thou here be'st found On any ground that I am ruler of, 296 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.
Exit [with Warwick, etc.].
Queen. Mischance and sorrow go along with you! 300 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 304
Suf. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations, And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
Queen. Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch! Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy? 308
​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, 312 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; sle Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint; Mine hair be fix'd an end, as one distract; Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban: And even now my burthen'd heart would break, 320 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 murd'ring basilisks 324 Their softest touch as smart as lizard's stings! Their music frightful as the serpent's hiss, And boding screech-owls make the consort full! All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell— 328
Queen. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself; And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass, Or like an overcharged gun, recoil, And turn the force of them upon thyself. 332
Suf. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave? Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, 336 Where biting cold would never let grass grow, ​And think it but a minute spent in sport.
Queen. O! let me entreat thee, cease! Give me thy hand, That I may dew it with my mournful tears; 340 Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, To wash away my woeful monuments. O! could this kiss be printed in thy hand,
[Kisses his hand.]
That thou might'st think upon these by the seal, 344 Through whom a thousand sighs are breath'd for thee. So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; 'Tis but surmis'd whiles thou art standing by, As one that surfeits thinking on a want. 348 I will repeal thee, or, be well assur'd, Adventure to be banished myself; And banished I am, if but from thee. Go; speak not to me; even now be gone. 352 O! go not yet. Even thus two friends condemn'd Embrace and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, Loather a hundred times to part than die. Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee! 356
Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished, Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee. 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence; A wilderness is populous enough, 360 So Suffolk had thy heavenly company: For where thou art, there is the world itself, With every several pleasure in the world, And where thou art not, desolation. 364 I can no more: live thou to joy thy life; Myself to joy in nought but that thou liv'st.
Enter Vaux.
Queen. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I prithee?
Vaux. To signify unto his majesty 368 That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death; For suddenly a grievous sickness took him, That makes him gasp and stare, and catch the air, Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth. 372 Sometime he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost Were by his side; sometime he calls the king, And whispers to his pillow, as to him, The secrets of his overcharged soul: 376 And I am sent to tell his majesty That even now he cries aloud for him.
Queen. Go tell this heavy message to the king.
Exit [Vaux].
Ay me! what is this world! what news are these! 380 But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss, Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure? Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee, And with the southern clouds contend in tears, 384 Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows? Now get thee hence: the king, thou know'st, is coming; If thou be found by me thou art but dead.
Suf. If I depart from thee I cannot live; 388 And in thy sight to die, what were it else But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap? Here could I breathe my soul into the air, As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe, 392 Dying with mother's dug between its lips; Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad, And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes, ​To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth: 896 So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul, Or I should breathe it so into thy body, And then it liv'd in sweet Elysium. To die by thee were but to die in jest; 400 From thee to die were torture more than death. O! let me stay, befall what may befall!
Queen. Away! though parting be a fretful corrosive, It is applied to a deathful wound. 404 To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee; For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe, I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.
Suf. I go.
Queen.And take my heart with thee. 408
Suf. A jewel, lock'd into the woefull'st cask That ever did contain a thing of worth. Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we: This way fall I to death.
Queen.This way for me. 412
Exeunt [at different doors].
Scene Three
[London. Cardinal Beaufort's Bedchamber]
Enter the King, Salisbury, and Warwick to the Cardinal in bed.
King. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.
Car. If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, ​Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. 4
King. Ah! what a sign it is of evil life Where death's approach is seen so terrible.
War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.
Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will. 8 Died he not in his bed? where should he die? Can I make men live whe'r they will or no? O! torture me no more, I will confess. Alive again? then show me where he is: 12 I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him. He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them. Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright, Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul. 16 Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.
King. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens! Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch; 20 O! beat away the busy meddling fiend That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, And from his bosom purge this black despair.
War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin! 24
Sal. Disturb him not! let him pass peaceably.
King. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord Cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope. 28 He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!
War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
King. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all. Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close; 32 And let us all to meditation. Exeunt.
Footnotes to Act III
Scene One
​1 muse: wonder 2 Cf. n. 9-12 Cf. n. 9 since: when ​14 give . . . day: say 'good morning' 18 grin: show their teeth 23 policy: prudent course 24 Respecting: considering 25 And considering the profit he would derive from your death 33 husbandry; cultivation of the soil 35 collect: infer 36 fond: foolish 38 subscribe: submit 40 Reprove: disprove ​41 effectual: conclusive 45 subornation: instigation 48 reputing: boasting 52 frame: bring to pass 59 Devise strange deaths; cf. n. 64 to: in comparison with 66 at once: addressing you all together (?), without more ado (?) 68 shall . . . conscience: if I am to say what I really think ​72 too well given: of too good character 74 fond affiance; foolish trust 77 lent him: i.e. not his own, false 79 What intending deceiver cannot assume a false appearance? 83-85 Cf. n. 87 Cold news for me; cf. n. ​97 Cf. n. 110 watch'd: kept vigil through 112 doit: Dutch coin, worth half a farthing 113 groat: four-penny coin 117 dis-pursed: paid out ​126 should: was wont to, would 129 passengers: wayfarers 130 condign: adequate 132 Beyond any other kind of felony or misdemeanor 138 further: future 145 subornation: instigation to perjury or crime (cf. l. 45) 149 period: end 150 it: i.e. my life ​153 conclude: by their deaths bring to conclusion 159 overweening: presumptuous; cf. n. 160 accuse: accusation level: aim 164 liefest liege: dearest sovereign 166 conventicles: secret meetings 170 effected: put into effect 173 care: endure care, trouble themselves 178 twit: twitted 179 clerkly couch'd; phrased with learned circumlocution ​184 Beshrew: curse, fie on! 192 gnarling: snarling (to determine) 203 map: epitome, abstract ​222 Who's: whoever is 223 Free: noble 229 slough: skin 236 colour: pretext 241 argument: evidence 242 mistrust: suspicion ​244 fain: gladly 248 empty: i.e. starving 255 idly: foolishly posted over: passed over hastily, ignored 260 prov’d: i.e. proved an enemy 261 stand on quillets: waste time with subtle distinctions 262 gins: traps 265 mates: confounds, overwhelms 269 that: to prove that ​272 be his priest: i.e. perform his last offices, arrange his death 275 censure well: approve 277 tender: value 281 skills: matters 282 amain: with speed 285 betime: betimes, early 288 expedient: expeditious 293 far-fet: far-fetched, cunning 300 character'd: written ​306 happily: haply, perhaps 308 in the number: among the rest; cf. n. 310 uncivil: disorderly kerns: light-armed irregulars 311 temper clay: moisten the ground 318 Cf. n. 328 Bristow: Bristol ​331, 332 Cf. n. 342 send me packing: pack me off 343 starved: frozen 350 Shall: which shall 352 circuit: circlet, crown 354 mad-bred: due to mad policies of Henry and his counselors flaw: squall of wind 355 minister: agent ​356-359 Cf. n. 362 fought: i.e. have seen him fight 363 porpentine: porcupine 365 caper upright: leap up and down Morisco: morris-dancer. 367 shag-hair’d: shaggy 379 great like: very likely
Scene Two
​3 to do: i.e. still undone 14 S. d.; cf. n. 17 If: to determine whether published: publicly asserted 18 presently: at once 20 straiter: more rigorously ​21 of good esteem: worthy of credence 22 approv'd: proved 26 Meg; cf. n. 30 forfend: forbid 31 to-night: last night 34 Rear up: support 40 right now: this very moment ​49 murderous tyranny: the tyranny of murder 52 basilisk: fabulous reptile whose sight caused death 56 rate: upbraid 61 blood-consuming; cf. n. 66 hollow friends: euphemism for enemies 73 woe: sorry ​76 like the adder; cf. n. waxen: grown 83 awkward: unfavorable 89 he: i.e. Æolus forth: out of 90 bid: I bade 99 Because: in order that 100 perish: destroy 101 ken: discern ​111 be packing with: accompany in flight 112 spectacles: visual organs 116-118 Cf. n. 116 witch: betwitch 117 madding: growing mad 129 order: manner 133 comment upon: interpret 134 Salisbury; cf. n. ​141 chafe: warm paly: pale 146 obsequies: acts of duty 161 timely-parted ghost: body of one whose soul has departed naturally 163 Being: i.e. the blood ​172 abroad display’d: extended 176 lodg’d: beaten down 178 probable: sufficient as proof 191 puttock's: kite's, hawk's ​205 controller: meddling detractor 217 deathsman: executioner 218 Quitting: relieving 224 fearful homage: cowardly submission ​ ​250 mere instinct: sincere impulse 251 opposite intent: purpose of opposition 265 whe’r: whether 268 his worth: as worthy as he 274 quaint: clever ​281 cited: urged 287 breathe . . . in: infect with his breath 293 said: affirmed without oath ​310 mandrake's groan; cf. n. 312 curst: bitter 318 an: on as . . . distract: like a madman’s 323 cypress trees: trees symbolical of mourning 325 smart: painful 327 consort: band of musicians 333 leave: cease ​342 woeful monuments: marks of woe (tear stains) 344 seal: impression of her lips; cf. n. 348 As when a glutton thinks of famine 349 repeal thee: secure your recall 350 Adventure: risk ​369 Cf. n. 381 hour's poor loss: petty transitory grief 382 Omitting: ignoring 384 southern: i.e. fog-laden 387 by: with 393 its; cf. n. ​403 corrosive: painful remedy 407 Iris: Juno's messenger 409 into: within cask: casket