SC. X. daj
Suffolk. How now sirs, what haue you dispatcht him?
[♦] One. I my Lord, hees dead I warrant you.
Suffolke. Then see the cloathes laid smooth about him still,
That when the King comes, he may perceiue
5 No other, but that he dide of his owne accord.
[♦] 2. All things is hansome now my Lord.
Suffolke. Then draw the Curtaines againe and get you gone,
[♦] And you shall haue your firme rewarde anon. Exet murtherers.
Then enter the King and Queene, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Duke of Somerset, and the Cardinall.
King. My Lord of Suffolke go call our vnkle Gloster,
10 Tell him this day we will that he do cleare himselfe.
Suffolke. I will my Lord. Exet Suffolke.
[♦] King. And good my Lords proceed no further against our vnkle (Gloster,
Then by iust proofe you can affirme,
For as the sucking childe or harmlesse lambe,
15 So is he innocent of treason to our state.
Enter Suffolke.
How now Suffolke, where’s our unkle?
[♦] Suffolke. Dead in his bed, my Lord Gloster is dead. The King falles in a sound.
Queen. Ay-me, the King is dead: help, help, my Lords.
Suffolke. Comfort my Lord, gratious Henry comfort.
Kin. What doth my Lord of Suffolk bid me comfort?
Came he euen now to sing a Rauens note,
And thinkes he that the cherping of a Wren,
By crying comfort through a hollow voice,
[♦] Can satisfie my griefes, or ease my heart:
[25] Thou balefull messenger out of my sight,
[♦] For euen in thine eye-bals murther sits,
[♦] Yet do not goe. Come Basaliske
[♦] And kill the silly gazer with thy lookes.
Queene. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus,
30 As if that he had causde Duke Humphreys death?
The Duke and I too, you know were enemies,
[♦] And you had best say that I did murther him.
King. Ah woe is me, for wretched Glosters death.
Queene. Be woe for me more wretched then he was,
[35] What doest thou turne away and hide thy face?
[♦] I am no loathsome leoper looke on me,
[♦] Was I for this nigh wrackt vpon the sea,
[♦] And thrise by aukward winds driuen back from Englands bounds,
What might it bode, but that well foretelling
40 Winds, said, seeke not a scorpions neast.
Enter the Earles of Warwicke and Salisbury.
[♦] War. My Lord, the Commons like an angrie hiue of bees,
Run vp and downe, caring not whom they sting,
[♦] For good Duke Humphreys death, whom they report
To be murthered by Suffolke and the Cardinall here.
45 King. That he is dead good Warwick, is too true,
But how he died God knowes, not Henry.
War. Enter his priuie chamber my Lord and view the bodie.
Good father staie you with the rude multitude, till I returne.
Salb. I will sonne. Exet Salbury. Warwicke drawes the curtaines and showes Duke Humphrey in his bed.
50 King. Ah vnkle Gloster, heauen receive thy soule.
Farewell poore Henries ioy, now thou art gone.
War. Now by his soule that tooke our shape vpon him,
To free vs from his fathers dreadfull curse,
I am resolu’d that violent hands were laid,
[55] Vpon the life of this thrise famous Duke.
[♦] Suffolk. A dreadfull oth sworne with a solemne toong,
What instance giues Lord Warwicke for these words?
War. Oft haue I seene a timely parted ghost,
Of ashie semblance, pale and bloodlesse,
[60] But loe the blood is setled in his face,
More better coloured then when he liu’d,
[♦] His well proportioned beard made rough and sterne,
His fingers spred abroad as one that graspt for life,
Yet was by strength surprisde, the least of these are probable,
[65] It cannot chuse but he was murthered.
Queene. Suffolke and the Cardinall had him in charge,
And they I trust sir, are no murtherers.
[♦] War. I, but twas well knowne they were not his friends,
And tis well seene he found some enemies.
[70] Card. But haue you no greater proofes then these?
[♦] War. Who sees a hefer dead and bleeding fresh,
[♦] And sees hard-by a butcher with an axe,
But will suspect twas he that made the slaughter?
Who findes the partridge in the puttocks neast,
75 But will imagine how the bird came there,
Although the kyte soare with vnbloodie beake?
Euen so suspitious is this Tragidie.
[♦] Queene. Are you the kyte Bewford, where’s your talants?
Is Suffolke the butcher, where’s his knife?
80 Suffolke. I weare no knife to slaughter sleeping men,
[♦] But heres a vengefull sword rusted with case,
[♦] That shall be scoured in his rankorous heart,
That slanders me with murthers crimson badge,
Say if thou dare, proud Lord of Warwickshire,
85 That I am guiltie in Duke Humphreys death. Exet Cardinall.
War. What dares not Warwicke, if false Suffolke dare him?
Queene. He dares not calme his contumelious spirit,
Nor cease to be an arrogant controwler,
[♦] Though Suffolk dare him twentie hundreth times.
[90] War. Madame be still, with reuerence may I say it,
That euery word you speake in his defence,
Is slaunder to your royall Maiestie.
Suffolke. Blunt witted Lord, ignoble in thy words,
If euer Lady wrongd her Lord so much,
95 Thy mother tooke vnto her blamefull bed,
[♦] Some sterne vntutred churle, and noble stocke
Was graft with crabtree slip, whose frute thou art,
And neuer of the Neuels noble race.
War. But that the guilt of murther bucklers thee,
[100] And I should rob the deaths man of his fee,
Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my soueraignes presence makes me mute,
I would false murtherous coward on thy knees
Make thee craue pardon for thy passed speech,
[105] And say it was thy mother that thou meants,
That thou thy selfe was borne in bastardie,
And after all this fearefull homage done,
[♦] Giue thee thy hire and send thy soule to hell,
Pernitious blood-sucker of sleeping men.
110 Suffol. Thou shouldst be waking whilst I shead thy blood,
If from this presence thou dare go with me.
War. Away euen now, or I will drag thee hence. Warwicke puls him out.
Exet Warwicke and Suffolke, and then all the Commons within, cries, downe with Suffolke, downe with Suffolk.
And then enter againe, the Duke of Suffolke and Warwicke, with their weapons drawne.
King. Why how now Lords?
Suf. The Traitorous Warwicke with the men of Berry,
[115] Set all vpon me mightie soueraigne i
The Commons againe cries, downe with Suffolke, downe with Suffolke. And then enter from them, the Earle of Salbury.
[♦] Salb. My Lord, the Commons sends you word by me,
[♦] The vnlesse false Suffolke here be done to death,
Or banished faire Englands Territories,
That they will erre from your highnesse person,
120 They say by him the good Duke Humphrey died,
They say by him they feare the ruine of the realme.
And therefore if you loue your subiects weale,
[♦] They wish you to banish him from foorth the land.
Suf. Indeed tis like the Commons rude vnpolisht hinds
125 Would send such message to their soueraigne,
But you my Lord were glad to be imployd,
To trie how quaint an Orator you were,
But all the honour Salsbury hath got,
Is, that he was the Lord Embassador
130 Sent from a sort of Tinkers to the King.
The Commons cries, an answere from the King, my Lord of Salsbury.
King. Good Salsbury go backe againe to them,
[♦] Tell them we thanke them all for their louing care,
[♦] And had I not bene cited thus by their meanes,
My selfe had done it. Therefore here I sweare,
135 If Suffolke be found to breathe in any place,
Where I haue rule, but three daies more, he dies. Exet Salisbury.
Queene. Oh Henry, reuerse the doome of gentle Suffolkes banishment.
King. Vngentle Queene to call him gentle Suffolke,
Speake not for him, for in England he shall not rest,
[140] If I say, I may relent, but if I sweare, it is erreuocable.
[♦] Come good Warwicke and go thou in with me,
For I haue great matters to impart to thee. Exet King and Warwicke, Manet Queene and Suffolke.
Queene. Hell fire and vengeance go along with you,
[♦] Theres two of you, the diuell make the third.
145 Fie womanish man, canst thou not curse thy enemies?
Suffolke. A plague vpon them, wherefore should I curse them?
Could curses kill as do the Mandrakes groanes,
I would inuent as many bitter termes
Deliuered strongly through my fixed teeth,
150 With twise so many signes of deadly hate,
[♦] As leaue fast enuy in her loathsome caue,
My toong should stumble in mine earnest words,
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint,
My haire be fixt on end, as one distraught,
155 And euery ioynt should seeme to curse and ban,
[♦] And now me-thinks my burthened hart would breake,
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drinke,
Gall worse then gall, the daintiest thing they taste.
[♦] Their sweetest shade a groue of sypris trees,
160 Their softest tuch as smart as lyzards stings.
Their musicke frightfull, like the serpents hys.
[♦] And boding scrike-oules make the consort full.
All the foule terrors in darke seated hell.
[♦] Queene. Inough sweete Suffolke, thou torments thy (selfe.
[165] Suffolke. You bad me ban, and will you bid me sease?
Now by this ground that I am banisht from,
Well could I curse away a winters night,
And standing naked on a mountaine top,
Where byting cold would neuer let grasse grow,
170 And thinke it but a minute spent in sport.
Queene. No more. Sweete Suffolke hie thee hence to France,
Or liue where thou wilt within this worldes globe,
[♦] Ile haue an Irish that shall finde thee out,
And long thou shalt not staie, but ile haue thee repelde,
[175] Or venture to be banished my selfe.
Oh let this kisse be printed in thy hand,
That when thou seest it, thou maist thinke on me.
Away, I say, that I may feele my griefe,
For it is nothing whilst thou standest here.
180 Suffolke. Thus is poore Suffolke ten times banished,
Once by the King, but three times thrise by thee.
Enter Vawse.
Queene. How now, whither goes Vawse so fast?
Vawse. To signifie vnto his Maiestie,
That Cardinall Bewford is at point of death,
185 Sometimes he raues and cries as he were madde,
Sometimes he cals vpon Duke Humphries Ghost,
And whispers to his pillow as to him,
[♦] And sometime he calles to speake vnto the King,
And I am going to certifie vnto his grace,
190 That euen now he cald aloude for him.
Queene. Go then good Vawse and certifie the King Exet Vawse.
[♦] Oh what is worldly pompe, all men must die,
And woe am I for Bewfords heauie ende.
But why mourne I for him, whilst thou art here?
195 Sweete Suffolke hie thee hence to France,
For if the King do come, thou sure must die.
Suff. And if I go I cannot liue: but here to die,
[♦] What were it else, but like a pleasant slumber
In thy lap?
[200] Here could I, could I, breath my soule into the aire,
As milde and gentle as the new borne babe,
That dies with mothers dugge betweene his lips,
[♦] Where from thy sight I should be raging madde,
And call for thee to close mine eyes,
205 Or with thy lips to stop my dying soule,
That I might breathe it so into thy bodie,
And then it liu’d in sweete Elyziam,
By thee to die, were but to die in ieast,
From thee to die, were torment more then death,
210 O let me staie, befall, what may befall.
Queen. Oh mightst thou staie with safetie of thy life,
Then shouldst thou staie, but heauens deny it,
And therefore go, but hope ere longe to be repelde.
Suff. I goe.
Queene. And take my heart with thee. 215 She kisseth him.
Suff. A iewell lockt into the wofulst caske,
That euer yet containde a thing of woorth,
Thus like a splitted barke so sunder we.
220 This way fall I to death. Exet Suffolke.
Queene. This way for me. Exet Queene.