King. Lords, take your places; and, I pray you all,
20 Proceed no straiter ’gainst our uncle Gloucester
Than from true evidence of good esteem
He be approved in practice culpable.
Queen. God forbid any malice should prevail,
That faultless may condemn a nobleman!
25 Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion!
[♦] King. I thank thee, Nell; these words content me much.
Re-enter SUFFOLK.
How now! why look’st thou pale? why tremblest thou?