Sal. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows, Sirrah, what's thy name?

Peter. Peter, forfooth.

Sal. Peter? what more?

Peter. Thump.

Sal. Thump? Then fee thou thump thy mafter well. Arm. Mafters, I am come hither as it were upon my man's inftigation, to prove him a knave and myfelf an honeft man: and touching the Duke of York, I will take my death I never meant him any ill, nor the King, nor the Queen; and therefore, Peter, have: at thee with a downright blow. As Bevis of Southampton fell upon Afcapart.

6

York. Difpatch. This knave's tongue begins to double. Sound trumpets; alarum to the combatants.

[They fight, and Peter ftrikes him down. Arm. Hold, Peter, hold; I confefs, I confefs treafon.

[Dies. York, Take away his weapon: fellow, thank God, and the good wine in thy master's way.

Peter, O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this prefence?

O Peter, thou haft prevail'd in right.

K. Henry. Go, take hence that traitor from our fight, For by his death we do perceive his guilt. And God in juftice hath reveal'd to us The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, Which he had thought to murder wrongfully, Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.

6 as Bevis of Southampton fell upon Afcapart. I have added this from the old quarto. WARB.

[Exeunt.

Enter Duke Humphry and his Men, in Mourning Cloaks,

Glo.

THUS sometimes hath the brightest day a

cloud;

And, after fummer, evermore fucceeds
The barren winter with his nipping cold;
So cares and joys abound, as feafons fleet,
Sirs, what's a clock?

Serv. Ten, my Lord.

Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me,
To watch the coming of my punish'd dutchess,
7 Unneath may fhe endure the flinty streets,
To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind a-brook
The abject people gazing on thy face,
With envious looks ftill laughing at thy fhame;
That erft did follow thy proud chariot-wheels,
When thou didst ride in triumph thro' the streets.
But foft! I think, fhe comes; and I'll prepare
My tear-ftain'd eyes to fee her miferies.

Enter the Dutchess in a white Sheet, her feet bare, and a Taper burning in her band, with Sir John Stanley, a Sheriff and Officers,

Serv. So please your Grace, we'll take her from the Sheriff.

Glo. No, ftir not for your lives. Let her pass by. Elean. Come you, my Lord, to fee my open fhame? Now thou doft penance too. Look, how they gaze See, how the giddy multitude do point,

!

? Unneath] i. e. fcarcely. POPE.

And

And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
Ah, Glofter, hide thee from their hateful looks;
And in thy clofet pent up, rue my fhame,
And ban our enemies, both mine and thine.
Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
Elean. Ah! Glo'fter, teach me to forget myself;
For whilft I think I am thy marry'd wife,
And thou a prince, Protector of this land;
Methinks, I fhould not thus be led along,
Mail'd up in fhame, with papers on my
back;
And follow'd with a rabble, that rejoice

8

To fee my tears, and hear my deep-fetch'd groans.
The ruthless Aint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I start, the cruel people laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.

Ah! Humphry, can I bear this fhameful yoak?
Trow't thou, that e'er I'll look upon the world,
Or count them happy, that enjoy the fun?
No, dark fhall be my light, and night my day.
To think upon my pomp, fhall be my hell.
Sometime I'll fay, I am Duke Humphry's wife,
And he a Prince, and ruler of the land,
Yet fo he rul'd, and fuch a Prince he was,
That he stood by, whilft I, his forlorn dutchess,
Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock.
To every idle, rafcal follower.

But be thou mild, and blush not at my fhame,
Nor ftir at nothing, till the ax of death
Hang over thee, as, fure, it fhortly will.
For Suffolk, he that can do all in all

With her, that hateth thee and hates us all,
And York, and impious Beauford, that false priest,
Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings;
And fly thou, how thou canft, they'll tangle thee:
But fear not thou, until thy foot be fnar'd,

Mail'd up in fhame,

grace; alluding to the sheet of

Wrapped up; bundled up in dif penance.

Nor

Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry,
I must offend, before I be attainted;
And, had I twenty times fo many foes,

And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any fcathe,
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Wouldft have me refcue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy fcandal were not wip'd away;
But I in danger for the breach of law.

* Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell,
I pray thee, fort thy heart to patience,
Thefe few days' wonder will be quickly worn.
Enter a Herald.

Her. I fummon your Grace to his Majefty's parliament holden at Bury, the first of this next month. Gla. And my confent ne'er afk'd herein before? This is close dealing. Well, I will be there,

[Exit Herald. My Nell, I take my leave. And mafter Sheriff, Let not her penance exceed the King's. commiffion." Sher, An't please your Grace, here my commiffion stays;

And Sir John Stanley is appointed now,

To take her with him to the Ile of Man.

Glo. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? '! Stan. So am I giv'n in charge, may't please your Grace,

Glo. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray You use her well; the world may laugh again; And I may live to do you kindness, if

You do it her. And fo, Sir John, farewel.

Elean, What gone, my Lord, and bid me not farewel?

Thy greatest help is quiet,-] The poet has not endeavoured to raise much compaffion for the dutchefs, who indeed fuffers but

what he had deferved.

9-the world may laugh—] That is, the world may look again favourably upon me.

Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.

[Exit Gloucefter. Elean. Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee! For none abides with me; my joy is death ; Death, at whofe name I oft have been afraid, Because I wish'd this world's eternity. Stanley, I pr'ythee, go and take me hence, I care not whither, for I beg no favour; Only convey me where thou art commanded. Stan. Why, Madam, that is to the Isle of Man ; There to be us'd according to your state.

Elean. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach. And fhall I then be us'd reproachfully?

Stan. No; like a Dutchefs, and Duke Humphry's lady,

According to that ftate you fhall be us❜d.

Elean. Sheriff, farewel, and better than I fare; Although thou haft been conduct of my shame. Sher. It is my office. Madam, pardon me.

Elean. Ay, ay. Farewel. Thy office is difcharg'd. Come, Stanley, fhall we go?

Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this fheet,

And go we to attire you for our journey.

Elean. My fhame will not be shifted with my fheet, No, it will hang upon my richest robes,

And fhew itself, attire me how I can.

-Go, lead the way, I long to fee my prifon. [Exeunt.

I long to fee my prifon.] This impatience of a high fpirit is very natural. It is not fo dreadful to be imprisoned, as it

is defirable in a state of difgrace to be sheltered from the fcorn of gazers.

ACT