Full often, like a fhag-hair'd crafty kern,
Hath he converfed with the enemy,
And undifcover'd come to me again,
And giv'n me notice of their villainies.
This devil here fhall be my fubßitute;
1 For that John Mortimer which is now dead,
In face, in gate, in fpeech he doth refemble.
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 thofe arms.
Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will,
Why then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reap the harvest which that rascal fow'd:
For Humphry being dead, as he fhall be,
And Henry put a-part, the next for me.

SCENE VI. The Palace.

[Exit

Enter two or three running over the stage, from the murther of Duke Humphry.

1. Run to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know We have difpatch'd the Duke, as he commanded. 2. Oh that it were to do! what have we done? Didft ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter Suffolk.

1. Here comes my Lord.

Suf. Now, Sirs, have you dispatch'd This thing?

1. Ay, my good Lord, 'tis done, he's dead.

Saf. Why, that's well faid. Go get you to my houfe, I will reward you for this vent'rous deed:

The King and all the Pees are here at hand.

Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well,

According as I gave directions?

1. Yes, my good Lord.

Suf. Away, be gone.

[Exeunt Murtherers.

Enter King Henry, Queen Margaret, Cardinal, Somerfet,

with Attendants.

K. Henry. Go call our Uncle to our presence ftrait:

Say we intend to try his Grace to-day,

If he be guilty, as 'tis published.

Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble Lord.

[Exit.

K. Henry. Lords, take your places; and I pray you all, Proceed no ftraiter 'gainst our uncle Glo'fter,

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.

Enter Suffolk.

How now? why look'st thou pale? why trembleft thou?
Where is our Uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?
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 frvoons.
Q.Mar. How fares my Lord? help, Lords, the King

is dead.

Sem. Rear up his body, wring him by the nose.

Q. Mar. 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. Henry. 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 breast, 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

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 Glo'fter'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.
As for my felf, 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?
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 filled with 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 Glofter, 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 it,
And make my image but an ale-house 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 neft,
Nor fet thy footing on this unkind foar.
What did I then, but curfe the gentle gufts,
And him that loos'd them from their brazen caves,
And bid them blow towards England's bleffed fhoar,
Or turn our ftern upon a dreadful rock?

VOL. VI.

E

Yet

Yet Eolus would not be a murtherer
He left that hateful office unto thee. *

The splitting rocks cow'r'd in the finking fands,
And would not dash with their ragged fides;
Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they,
Might in thy Palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs,
When from thy fhoar the tempeft beat us back,
I ftood upon the hatches in the storm;
And when the dusky fky began to rob
My earneft-gaping fight of the land's view,
I took a coftly jewel from my neck,

(A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,)
And threw it tow'rds thy land; the fea receiv'd it,
And fo I wish'd thy body might my heart.
And even with this I loft fair England's view,
And bid mine eyes be packing with mine heart,
And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles,
For lofing ken of Albion's wished coaft.
How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue
(The agent of thy foul inconftancy)
To fit and witch me, as Afcanius did,
When he to madding Dide would unfold

His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy!

Am I not witcht like her? art thou not falfe like him ?

Ah me, I can no more: die, Margaret!

For Henry weeps that thou didst live fo long.

Noife within. Enter Warwick, Salisbury, and many

Commons.

War. It is reported, mighty Sovereign,
That good Duke Humphry traiterously is murther'd
By Suffolk, and the Cardinal Beaufort's means:
The Commons, like an angry hive of bees
That want their leader, featter up and down,
And care not whom they fting in their revenge.
•...... office unto thee.

The petty vaulting fea refus'd to drown me.

Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on fhear
With tears as falt as fea, through thy unkindness.
The Splitting rocke, & e.

My

My felf have calm'd their fpleenful mutiny,

Until they hear the order of his death.

K. Henry. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true; But how he died, God knows, not Henry;

Enter his chamber, view his breathless corps,

And comment then upon his fudden death.

War. That I fhall do, my Liege: stay, Salisbury, With the rude multitude, 'till I return. [Warwick goes in. K. Henry. O thou that judgest all things, ftay my thoughts! My thoughts, that labour to persuade my foul Some violent hands were laid on Humphry's life: If my fufpect be falfe, forgive me, God! For judgment only doth belong to thee. Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips With twenty thousand kiffes, and to drain Upon his face an ocean of salt tears: To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk. And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling: But all in vain are these mean obfequies.

[Bed with Gloucester's body put forth.

And to furvey his dead and earthly image,

What were it but to make my forrow greater?

War. Come hither, gracious Sovereign, view this body. K. Henry. That is to fee how deep my grave is made: For with his foul fled all my worldly folace;

For feeing him, I fee my life is death.

War. As furely as my foul intends to live
With that dread King that took our ftate upon him,
To free us from his father's wrathful curfe,

I do believe that violent hands were laid
Upon the life of this thrice-famed Duke.

Suf. A dreadful oath, fworn with a folemn tongue!
What inftance gives Lord Warwick for his vow?
War. See how the blood is fettled in his face.
Oft have I seen a timely parted ghost

Of afhy femblance, meager, pale, and blood-left,
Being all defcended to the lab'ring heart,
Who in the conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the fame for aidance 'gainst the enemy,

Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth