For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.

Suf. I'll fee it truly done, my Lord of York.

[Exeunt.

SCENE V.

Manet York.

York, Now, York, or never steel thy fearful thoughts, And change mifdoubt to refolution

;

Be that thou hop'ft to be, or what thou art

Refign to death, it is not worth th' enjoying.

Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man,
And find no harbour in a royal heart.

Fafter than fpring-time fhow'rs comes thought on thought,

And not a thought, but thinks on dignity.
My brain, more busy than the lab'ring spider,
Weaves tedious fnares to trap mine enemies.
Well, Nobles, well, 'tis politickly done,
To fend me packing with an hoft of men ;
I fear me, you but warm the ftarved Snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breaft, will fting your hearts,
'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them.me;
I take it kindly; yet be well affur'd,

You put fharp weapons in a mad-man's hands.
Whilft I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
I will ftir up in England fome black storm,
Shall blow ten thousand fouls to heav'n or hell.
And this fell tempeft fhall not ceafe to rage,
Until the golden circuit on my head,
Like to the glorious fun's tranfparent beams,
Do calm the fury of this mad-brain'd flaw.
And, for a minifter of my intent,

I have feduc'd a headstrong Kentish man,
John Cade of Afhford,

Mad-brain'd flaw.] Flaw is a fudden violent guft of wind.

Το

To make commotion, as full well he can,
Under the title of John Mortimer.

In Ireland have I feen this ftubborn Cade
Oppofe himself against a troop of Kerns;

And fought fo long, till that his thighs with darts
Were almost like a fharp-quill'd porcupine;
And, in the end being refcu'd, I have seen
Him caper upright like * a wild Morisco,
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
Full often, like a fhag hair'd crafty Kern,
Hath he converfed with the enemy;
And undiscover'd come to me again,
And giv'n me notice of their villainies..
This devil here shall be my fubftitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gait, in speech he doth resemble.
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 ftrength,
And reap the harvest which that rafcal fow'd;
For Humphry being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put a-part, the next for me.

SCENE VI.

An Apartment in the Palace.

[Exit.

Enter two or three, running over the Stage, from the murder of Duke Humphry.

Firft.

R

UN to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know, We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded.

Second. Oh, that it were to do! what have we done?

A wild Morifço.] A Moor in a military dance, now called a Morris, that is, a Moorish dance.

Didst ever hear a man fo penitent?

Enter Suffolk.

Firft. Here comes my Lord.

Suf. Now, Sir, have you difpatch'd this thing?
First. Ay, my good Lord, he's dead.

Suf. Why, that's well faid.

house ;

Go, get you to my

I will reward you for this vent'rous deed.

The King and all the Peers are here at hand.-
Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well,
According as I gave
directions?

First. Yes, my good Lord.

Suf. Away, be gone.

[Exeunt Murderers.

Enter King Henry, the Queen, Cardinal, Somerset, 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 'gainft our uncle Glo'fter,

Than from true evidence, of good efteem,
He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice should prevail, That faultless may condemn a Nobleman!

Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion !

K. Henry. I thank thee. Well, these words content me much. 2

2 In former Editions: I thank thee, Nell, thefe words content me much.] This is K. Henry's Reply to his Wife Margaret. There can be no Reason why he should forget his own's Wife's Name, and call her

2

Nell inftead of Margaret. As the Change of a fingle Letter fets all right, I am willing to fuppofe it came from his Pen thus ;

I thank thee: Well, these words content me much.

THEOBALD.

Enter

Enter Suffolk.

How now? why look'st thou fo pale? why tremblest thou?

Where is our Uncle? what is the matter, Suffolk?
Suf. Dead in his bed, my Lord; Glofter 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 fwoons.

Q. Mar. How fares my Lord? help, Lords, the King is dead.

Som. 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, com

fort.

K. Henry. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me ?

3

Came he right now to fing a raven's note,
Whose dismal tune bereft my vital pow'rs;
And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chase 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 do not go away-come, bafilifk,

3 Right now.] Just now; even now.

And

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.
And for myself, 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 fill'd with my 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 adverfe 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 nest,

Be woe for me.] That is, let not woe be to thee for Gloucester, but for me.

Nor