As if his cause concern'd me: I should pity him If he should prove another than he seems.

Enter CRAWFORD.

Craw. Ladies, the king commands your presence instantly,

For entertainment of the duke.

Kath.

The duke

Must then be entertain'd, the king obey'd:

It is our duty.

Countess.

We will all wait on him. [Exeunt,

SCENE II.-London.-The Tower.

A Flourish. Enter King HENRY, OXFORD, DURHAM, SURREY.

K. Hen. Have ye condemn'd my chamberlain ? His treasons

Dur.

Condemn'd him, sir, which were as clear and mani

fest,

As foul and dangerous: besides, the guilt
Of his conspiracy prest him so nearly

That it drew from him free confession,
Without an importunity.

K. Hen.
Oh, lord bishop,
This argued shame and sorrow for his folly,
And must not stand in evidence against
Our
mercy, and the softness of our nature;
The rigour and extremity of law

Is sometimes too too bitter, but we carry
A chancery of pity in our bosom.

I hope we may reprieve him from the sentence
Of death; I hope we may.

Dur.

You may, you may,

And so persuade your subjects that the title

Of York is better, nay, more just and lawful,
Then yours of Lancaster; so Stanley holds :
Which if it be not treason in the highest,
Then we are traitors all, perjur'd, and false,
Who have took oath to Henry, and the justice
Of Henry's title; Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney,
With all your other peers of state and church,
Forsworn, and Stanley true alone to Heaven,
And England's lawful heir.

Oxf.

By Vere's old honours,

I'll cut his throat dares speak it.

Sur.

To engage a soul in.

'Tis a quarrel

K. Hen.
What a coil' is here
To keep my gratitude sincere and perfect!
Stanley was once my friend, and came in time
To save my life: yet, to say truth, my lords,
The man staid long enough t' endanger it;
But I could see no more into his heart,
Than what his outward actions did present;
And for them have rewarded him so fully,
As that there wanted nothing in our gift
To gratify his merit, as I thought,

24

Unless I should divide my crown with him,
And give him half; tho' now I well perceive

'Twould scarce have serv'd his turn, without the

whole.

But I am charitable, lords: let justice.

Proceed in execution, whilst I mourn

The loss of one whom I esteem'd a friend.

Dur. Sir, he is coming this way.

K. Hen.

If he speak to me

I could deny him nothing; to prevent it,

Coil,] Bustle, stir.

Rewarded 'em.] So the quarto reads corruptedly.

I must withdraw. 'Pray, lords, commend my fa

vours

To his last peace, which, with him, I will pray for: That done, it doth concern us to consult

Of other following troubles.

Oxf.

I am glad

[Exeunt.

He's gone; upon my life he would have pardon'd The traitor, had he seen him.

Sur.

'Tis a king

Rare and unheard of.

Compos'd of gentleness.

Dur.

But every man is nearest to himself,

And that the king observes; 'tis fit he should.

Enter STANLEY, led by the Executioner, with URSWICK and DAWBENEY.

Stan. May I not speak with Clifford, ere I shake This piece of frailty off?

Daw.

You shall; he's sent for.

Stan. I must not see the king?

Dur.

From him, sir William,

These lords and I am sent: he bade us say
That he commends his mercy to your thoughts;
Wishing the laws of England could remit
The forfeit of your life, as willingly

As he would, in the sweetness of his nature,
Forget your trespass; but howe'er your body
Fall into dust, he vows, the king himself
Doth vow, to keep a requiem for your soul,
As for a friend, close treasur'd in his bosom.
Oxf. Without remembrance of your errors past,
I come to take my leave, and wish you heaven.
Sur. And I; good angels guard you!

- Stan.

Oh, the king Next to my soul, shall be the nearest subject Of my last prayers. My grave lord of Durham, My lords of Oxford, Surrey, Dawbeney, all,

Accept from a poor dying man a farewell,
I was as you are once, great, and stood hopeful
Of many flourishing years, but fate and time
Have wheel'd about, to turn me into nothing.

Enter CLIFFORD.

Daw. Sir Robert Clifford comes, the man, sir William,

You so desir'd to speak with.

Dur.

Mark their meeting.

Clif. Sir William Stanley, I am glad your con

science

Before your end, hath emptied every burden Which charg'd it, as that you can clearly witness, How far I have proceeded in a duty

That both concern'd my truth and the state's safety. Stan. Mercy, how dear is life to such as hug it! Come hither-by this token think on me!

[Makes a cross on CLIFFORD's face with
his finger.

Clif. This token? What? I am abus'd?
Stan.
You are not.

I wet upon your cheeks a holy sign,

The cross, the Christian's badge, the traitor's infamy:

Wear, Clifford, to thy grave this painted emblem:
Water shall never wash it off, all eyes

That gaze upon thy face, shall read there written,
A state-informer's character; more ugly,
Stampt on a noble name, than on a base.

The heavens forgive thee.-'Pray, my lords, no change

Of words this man and I have us'd too many.
Clif. Shall I be disgrac'd

Without reply?

Dur.

Give losers leave to talk ;

His loss is irrecoverable.

Stan.

Once more,

To all a long farewell. The best of greatness
Preserve the king! My next suit is, my lords,
To be remember'd to my noble brother,
Derby, my much griev'd brother. Oh, persuade him,
That I shall stand no blemish to his house,
In chronicles writ in another age:

My heart doth bleed for him, and for his sighs.
Tell him, he must not think the style of Derby,
Nor being husband to king Henry's mother,
The league with peers, the smiles of fortune, can
Secure his peace above the state of man.
I take my leave to travel to my dust:

Subjects deserve their deaths whose kings are just.
Come, confessor! On with thy axe, friend, on.

[He is led off to execution. Clif. Was I call'd hither by a traitor's breath To be upbraided? Lords, the king shall know it.

Enter King HENRY with a white staff.

K. Hen. The king doth know it sir; the king hath heard

What he or you could say. We have given credit
To every point of Clifford's information,

The only evidence 'gainst Stanley's head:
He dies for it: are you pleas'd!

Clif.

I pleas'd my lord?

K. Hen. No echoes: for your service we dismiss Your more attendance on the court; take ease, And live at home. But, as you love your life, Stir not from London without leave from us. We'll think on your reward. Away!

Clif.

I go, sir.

[Exit.

K. Hen. Die all our griefs with Stanley! Take

this staff

Of office, Dawbeney; henceforth be our chamber

lain.