Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
[♦] And I proclaim’d a coward through the world!
Suf. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
45 The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
[♦] Whit. The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!
Suf. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke:
[♦] Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I?
Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
[50] Suf. Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry’s blood,