York. My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days At Bristol I expect my foldiers;

For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.

Suf. I'll fee it truly done, my Lord of York. [Exeunt.

Manet York.

York. Now, York, or never, fteel thy fearful thoughts, And change mifdoubt to resolution :

Be that thou hop'ft to be, or what thou art
Refign 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.

Fafter than spring timefhow'rs, comes thought onthought,
And not a thought, but thinks on dignity.
My brain, more bufy than the lab'ring fpider,
Weaves tedious fnares to trap mine enemies.
Well, Nobles, well; 'tis politickly done,
To fend me packing with an hoft of men
I fear me, you but warm the ftarved Snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breaft, will fting your hearts.
"Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me;
I take it kindly: yet be well affur'd,

You put sharp weapons in a mad-man's hands.
Whilft I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
I will ftir up in England some black storm,
Shall blow ten thoufand fouls to heav'n or hell.
And this fell tempeft fhall not cease to rage,
Until the golden circuit on my head,
(Like to the glorious fun's tranfparent beams,)
Do calm the fury of this mad-brain'd flaw.
And, for a minister of my intent,

I have feduc'd a headstrong Kentish man,
John Cade of Abford,

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

In Ireland have I feen this ftubborn Cade
Oppofe himself againft a troop of kerns;

And fought fo long, till that his thighs with darts
Were almoft like a fharp-quill'd porcupine:

And,

And, in the end being refcu'd, I have feen
Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
Full often, like a fhag hair'd crafty kern,
Hath he converfed with the enemy;
And undiscover'd come to me again,
And giv'n me notice of their villanies.
This devil here shall be my substitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gait, in fpeech he doth resemble.
By this, I fhall 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 fay, 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 ftrength,
And reap the harvest which that rafcal fow'd;
For Humphry being dead, as he shall be,

And Henry put a-part, the next for me.

SCENE, an Apartment in the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter two or three, running over the Stage, from the murder of Duke Humphry.

"R

UN to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know,

We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded. 2. Oh, that it were to do! what have we done? Didâ ever hear a man so penitent ?

Enter Suffolk.

1. Here comes my Lord.

Suf. Now, Sir, have you difpatch'd this thing? 1. Ay, my good Lord, he's dead.

Suf. Why, that's well faid. Go, get you to my house;

I will reward you for this vent'rous 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?

C 2

I. Yes,

1. Yes, my good Lord.

Suf. Away, be gone.'

[Exeunt Murderers.

Enter King Henry, the Queen, Cardinal, Somerfet, with Attendants.

K. Henry. Go, call our Uncle to our presence strait : Say, we intend to try his Grace to-day,

If he be guilty, as 'tis published.

Suf. I'll call him prefently, my noble Lord. [Exit. K. Henry. Lords, take your places: and, I pray you all, Proceed no ftraiter 'gainft our uncle Glofter,

Than from true evidence, of good esteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice fhould prevail, That faultlefs may condemn a nobleman!

Pray God, he may acquit him of fufpicion!

K. Henry. I thank thee: Well, these words content me much. (8)

Enter Suffolk.

How now? why look'ft thou pale? why trembleft thou? Where is our Uncle? what is the matter, Suffolk?

(8) I thank thee, Nell, these words content me much.] This is King Henry's Reply to his Wife Margaret. Our Poet, I remember, in his King John, makes Faulconbridge the Baftard, upon his firkt ftepping into Honour, fay, that he will ftudy to forget his old Acquaintance;

And if his Name be George, I'll call him Peter;

For new-made Honour doth forget Mens Names.

But, furely, this is wide of King Henry's Cafe; and it can be no Reason why he fhould forget his own Wife's Name; and call her Nell inftead of Margaret. As the Change of a fingle Letter fets all right, I am willing to fuppofe it came from his Pen thus ;

I thank thee: Well, thefe Words content me much.

King Henry was a Prince of great Piety and Meeknefs, a great Lover of his Uncle Gloucefter, whom his Nobles were rigidly perfecuting and to whom he fufpected the Queen bore no very good Will in her Heart: But finding her, beyond his hopes, speak fo candidly in the Duke's Cafe, he is mightily comforted and contented at her impartial Seeming.

Suf.

Suf. Dead in his bed my Lord; Glo'fter is dead. Q. Mar. Marry, God forefend! Car. God's fecret judgment: I did dream to-night, The Duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. [King woons. Q.Mar. How fares my Lord? help, Lords, the King is dead.

Som. Rear up his body, wring him by the nose.
Q. M. Run, go, help, help: oh, Henry, ope thine eyes.
Suf. He doth revive again; Madam, be patient,
K. Henry. O heav'nly 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 fing a raven's note, Whofe difmal tune bereft my vital pow'rs: And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breaft, Can chafe away the firft-conceived found? Hide not thy poifon with fuch fugar'd words; Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I fay; Their touch affrights me as a ferpent's fting. Thou baleful meffenger, out of my fight! Upon thy eye-balls murd'rous tyranny Sits in grim majefty to fright the world. Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding! Yet do not go away; come, bafilifk; And kill the innocent gazer with thy fight: For in the fhade of death I fhall find joy;

In life, but double death, now Glofter's dead."

Q. Mar. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus? Although the Duke was enemy to him,

Yet he, moft chriftian-like, laments his death.
And for myself, foe as he was to me,
Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans,
Or blood-confuming fighs recall his life;

I would be blind with weeping, fick with groans,
Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking fighs,
And all to have the noble Duke alive.

What know I, how the world may deem of me?

C 3

For,

For, it is known, we were but hollow friends :
It may be judg'd, I made the Duke away;

So fhall my name with flander'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. Henry. Ah, woe is me for Glo'fter, wretched man!
Q. Mar. Be woe for me, more wretched than he is.
What, doft thou turn away and hide thy face?
I am no loathfome 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 fhut in Glo'fter's tomb?
Why, then, dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy.
Erect his ftatue, and do worship to ft,
And make my image but an ale-houfe fign.
Was I for this nigh wreckt upon the fea,
And twice by adverse winds from England's bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What boaded this? but well-fore-warning winds
Did feem to fay, feek not a fcorpion's nest :
Nor fet no footing on this unkind fhore.
What did I then? but curft the gentle gufts,
And he that loos'd them from their brazen caves;
And bid them blow towards England's bleffed fhore,
Or turn our ftern upon a dreadful rock:

Yet Eolus would not be a murderer;
But left that hateful office unto thee.

The pretty vaulting fea refus'd to drown me;
Knowing, that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shore
With tears as falt as fea, through thy unkindness.
The fplitting rocks cow'r'd in the finking fands,
And would not dash me with their ragged fides;
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy palace perifh Margaret.
As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs,
When from thy fhore the tempeft beat us back,
I ftood upon the hatches in the ftorm;
And when the dusky sky began to rob
My earneft-gaping fight of thy Land's view,