* Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.

Enter Somerset.

*Som. All health unto my gracious sovereign! K. Hen. Welcome, lord Somerset. What news from France?

Som. That all your interest in those territories 'Is utterly bereft you; all is lost.

K. Hen. Cold news, lord Somerset: But God's will be done!

York. Cold news for me; for I had hope of France,

As firmly as I hope for fertile England.

* Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud,
* And caterpillars eat my leaves away:
* But I will remedy this gear ere long,
* Or sell my title for a glorious grave.

Enter Glo'ster.

[Aside.

* Glo. All happiness unto my lord the king! Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long.

Suf. Nay, Glo'ster, know, that thou art come too

soon,

Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art:

I do arrest thee of high treason here.

Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not see me

blush,

Nor change my countenance for this arrest;
* A heart unspotted is not easily daunted.
* The purest spring is not so free from mud,
* As I am clear from treason to my sovereign:

Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?

York. 'Tis thought, my lord, that

of France,

you took bribes

And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay;
By means whereof, his highness hath lost France.
Glo. Is it but thought so? What are they, that
think it?

'I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay,
'Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.

'So help me God, as I have watch'd the night,—

Ay, night by night,-in studying good for Eng

land!

"That doit that e'er I wrested from the king,
'Or any groat I hoarded to my use,

'Be brought against me at my trial day!
'No! many a pound of mine own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
"Have I dispursed to the garrisons,

And never ask'd for restitution.

*Car. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.

Glo. I say no more than truth, so help me

God!

York. In your protectorship, you did devise Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of, That England was defam'd by tyranny.

Glo. Why, 'tis well known, that whiles I was protector,

Pity was all the fault that was in me;

* For I should melt at an offender's tears,

* And lowly words were ransom for their fault. Unless it were a bloody murderer,

'Or foul felonious thief, that fleec'd poor passen

gers,

'I never gave them condign punishment:
'Murder, indeed; that bloody sin, I tortur'd
'Above the felon, or what trespass else.

Suf. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd:

'But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, 'Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. I do arrest you in his highness' name; And here commit you to my lord cardinal To keep, until your further time of trial.

K. Hen. My lord of Glo'ster, 'tis my special hope,

That you will clear yourself from all suspects; My conscience tells me, you are innocent.

Glo. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous! * Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,

* And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand; * Foul subordination is predominant,

* And equity exíl'd your highness' land. * I know, their complot is to have my life; And, if my death might make this island happy, 'And prove the period of their tyranny, 'I would expend it with all willingness:

'But mine is made the prologue to their play;

For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril,

'Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.

'Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,

'And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;

And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, 'Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, 'By false accuse doth level at my life:

And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, 'Causeless have laid disgraces on my head; And, with your best endeavour, have stirr'd up My liefest liege to be mine enemy:— Ay, all of you have laid your heads together, * Myself had notice of your conventicles,

* And all to make away my guiltless life:

'I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
The ancient proverb will be well effected,-
A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.

* Car. My liege, his railing is intolerable: *If those, that care to keep your royal person * From treason's secret knife, and traitors' rage, * Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,

* And the offender granted scope of speech, * "Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here, 'With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, As if she had suborned some to swear "False allegations to o'erthrow his state?

'Q. Mar. But I can give the loser leave to chide. Glo. Far truer spoke, than meant: I lose, indeed;

Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false!— * And well such losers may have leave to speak.

Buck. He'll wrest the sense, and hold us here all day:

'Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner.

'Car. Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him

sure.

Glo. Ah, thus king Henry throws away his crutch,

Before his legs be firm to bear his body:

'Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side,

'And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first.

Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were!

'For, good king Henry, thy decay I fear.

[Exeunt Attendants, with Glo'ster. K. Hen. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best,

Do, or undo, as if ourself were here.

Q. Mar. What, will your highness leave the parliament?

K. Hen. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,

*Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes; * My body round engirt with misery;

* For what's more miserable than discontent?— Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see

* The map of honour, truth, and loyalty;

* And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come, * That e'er I prov'd thee false, or fear'd thy faith. * What low'ring star now envies thy estate,

* That these great lords, and Margaret our queen, * Do seek subversion of thy harmless life?

* Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong: * And as the butcher takes away the calf,

* And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays,

**

Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house;