QUEEN MARGARET.
God forbid any malice should prevail
That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
KING HENRY.
I thank thee, Meg; these words content me much.
Enter Suffolk.
How now? Why look’st thou pale? Why tremblest thou?
Where is our uncle? What’s the matter, Suffolk?
SUFFOLK.
Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloucester is dead.
QUEEN MARGARET.
Marry, God forfend!
CARDINAL.
God’s secret judgment! I did dream tonight
The Duke was dumb and could not speak a word.
[The King swoons.]
QUEEN MARGARET.
How fares my lord? Help, lords! the King is dead.
SOMERSET.
Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.