When ev'ry one will give the time of day, Small curs are not regarded when they grin; (Refpecting what a ranc'rous mind he bears, Or elfe conclude my words effectual. 1 Suf. Well hath your Highness feen into this Duke. And had I first been put to speak my mind, I think I fhould have told your Grace's tale. Upon my life, began her devilish practices; No, No, no, my Sovereign: Glo'fter is a man tiliw I mã Buck. Tut, thefe are petty faults to faults unknown, Which time will bring to light in fmooth Duke Humphry. K. Henry. My Lords, at once; the care you have of us, To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, From meaning treaíon to our royal perfon, The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given Y 2. Mar. Ah! what's more dang'rous than this fond affiance? Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd; Is he a lamb? his fkin is furely lent him; Enter Somerfet. Som. All health unto my gracious Sovereign! K. Henry. Welcome, Lord Somerfet; what news from France? Som. That all your int'reft in thofe territories Is utterly bereft you; all is loft. K. Henry. Cold news, Lord Somerfet; but God's York. Cold news for me: for I had hope of France, As firmly as I hope for fertile England. Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, And caterpillars eat my leaves away. But But I will remedy this gear ere long, SCENE II. Enter Gloucester. [Afide. Glo. All happiness unto my Lord the King! Pardon, my Liege, that I have ftaid fo long. Suff. Nay, Glo'fter, know, that thou art come too Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art. I do arreft thee of high treafon here. [foon, Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not fee me blush, Nor change my countenance for this arrest. A heart unfpotted is not eafily daunted. The purest spring is not fo free from mud, As I am clear from treafon to my Sovereign. Who can accufe me? wherein am I guilty? York. 'Tis thought, my Lord, that you took bribes of France; And, being Protector, ftaid the foldiers' pay; I never robb'd the foldiers of their pay, [it ? Ay, night by night, in studying good for England! Be brought against me at my trial-day! And never afk'd for reftitution. Car. It ferves you well, my Lord, to say so much. Glo. I fay no more than truth; fo help me God! Tork. In your protectorfhip you did devife That England was defam'd by tyranny. Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of, Glo. Why, 'tis well known, that, whiles I was Pro Pity was all the fault that was in me: [tector, For I fhould melt at an offender's tears, And lowly words were ranfom for their fault. Or foul felonious thief that fleece'd poor paffengers, I I never gave them condign punishment. Murther, indeed, that bloody fin, I tortur'd Suff. My Lord, thefe faults are eafy, quickly an fwer'd; But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, K. Henry. My Lord of Glo'fter, 'tis my fpecial hope, That you will clear yourself from all fufpicion; My confcience tells me you are innocent. Glo. Ah, gracious Lord, thefe days are dangerous. Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, And Charity chas'd hence by Rancour's hand. And Equity exil'd your Highnefs' land. I know their complot is to have my life: I would expend it with all willingness. Beaufort's red fparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, And you, my Sovereign Lady, with the reft, Ay, all of you have laid your heads together, A ftaff is quickly found to beat a dog. Gar. My Liege, his railing is intolerable. If those that care to keep your royal person From treafon's fecret knife and traitor's rage, Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at, And the offender granted fcope of fpeech, 'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace. Suff. Hath he not twit our Sovereign Lady here With ignominious words, though darkly couch'd? As if he had fuborned fome to fwear Falfe allegations, to o'erthrow his state. 2. Mar. But I can give the lofer leave to chide. Glo. Far truer fpoke than meant; I lose, indeed; Belhrew the winners, for they play'd me falfe; And well fuch lofers may have leave to speak. Buck. He'll wreft the sense, and hold us here all day, Lord Cardinal, he is your prifoner. Car. Sirs, take away the Duke, and guard him fure. Glo. Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch, Before his legs be firm to bear his body: Thus is the thepherd beaten from thy fide, And wolves are gnarling who fhall gnaw thee first. Ah, that my fear were falfe! ah that it were! For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. [Exit guarded. K. Henry. My Lords, what to your wifdom feemeth Do or undo, as if ourfelf were here. [beft, 2. Mar. What will your Highness leave the parlia ment? K. Henry. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with Whofe flood begins to flow within my eyes; [grief, My body round ingirt with mifery: For what's more miferable than difcontent? Ah, uncle Humphry! in thy face I fee The map of honour, truth, and loyalty; And yet, good Humphry, is the hour to come, That thefe great Lords, and Margaret our Queen, That never didit them wrong, nor no man wrong? VOL. V. F And |