K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. K. Hen. O, thou eternal Mover of the heavens, War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin! Sal. Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably. K. Hen. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be! Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss, Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.He dies, and makes no sign. O, God, forgive him! War. So bad a death argues a monstrous life. K. Hen. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.— Close up his eyes, and draw the curtain close; And let us all to meditation. [Exeunt. ACT IV. SCENE I. Kent. The Sea-shore near Dover. Firing heard at sea. Then enter, from a boat, a Captain, a Master, a Master's Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK, and other Gentlemen, prisoners. Cap. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws 1 Gent. What is my ransom, master? Let me know. 1 Gent. I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life. 2 Gent. And so will I, and write home for it straight. Whit. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, And therefore, to revenge it, shalt thou die; [To SUFF. And so should these, if I might have my will. Cap. Be not so rash; take ransom; let him live. Suff. Look on my George; I am a gentleman; Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. Whit. And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore. How now? Why start'st thou? What, doth death affright? Suff. Thy name afflights me, in whose sound is death. A cunning man did calculate my birth, And told me that by Water I should die. [Lays hold on SUFFOLK. Suff. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince, The duke of Suffolk, William de la Poole. Whit. The duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags! Suff. 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. Suff. Obscure and lowly swain, king Henry's blood, The honorable blood of Lancaster, Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. Hast thou not kissed thy hand, and held my stirrup? And thought thee happy when I shook my head? Fed from my trencher, kneeled down at the board, And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue. Cap. Thou dar'st not for thy own. Poole? Poole? sir Poole? Lord! Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt For swallowing the treasure of the realm. Thy lips, that kissed the queen, shall sweep the ground; And thou, that smil'dst at good duke Humphrey's death, Against the senseless winds shall grin in vain, Who, in contempt, shall hiss at thee again; And wedded be thou to the hags of hell, For daring to affy a mighty lord Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts, As hating thee, are rising up in arms. And now the house of York-thrust from the crown, By shameful murder of a guiltless king, And lofty, proud, encroaching tyranny— Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colors Suff. O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges! Small things make base men proud; this villain here, Drones suck not cagles' blood, but rob beehives. By such a lowly vassal as thyself. Thy words move rage, and not remorse, in me: I charge thee, waft me safely cross the channel. Whit. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death. Suff. Gelidus timor occupat artus;-'tis thee I fear. Whit. Thou shalt have cause to fear, before I leave thee. What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop? 1 Gent. My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair. Stoop to the block, than these knees bow to any, And sooner dance upon a bloody pole, More can I bear, than you dare execute. Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more. Suff. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, That this my death may never be forgot! Great men oft die by vile bezonians. A Roman sworder and banditto slave, Murdered sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand Stabbed Julius Cæsar; savage islanders, Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates. [Exit SUFF., with WHIT. and others. Cap. And as for these whose ransom we have set, It is our pleasure, one of them depart.Therefore come you with us, and let him go. [Exeunt all but the first Gentleman. Re-enter WHITMORE, with SUFFOLK's body. Whit. There let his head and lifeless body lie, Until the queen his mistress bury it. 1 Gent. O barbarous and bloody spectacle! His body will I bear unto the king: If he revenge it not, yet will his friends; [Exit. [Exit with the boly. SCENE II. Blackheath. Enter GEORGE BEVIS and JOHN HOLLAND. Geo. Come, and get thee a sword, though made of a lath; they have been up these two days. John. They have the more need to sleep now then. Geo. I tell thee, Jack Cade the clothier means to dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a new nap upon it. John. So he had need, for 'tis threadbare. Well, I say, it was never merry world in England, since gentlemen came rp. Geo. O miserable age! Virtue is not regarded in handicrafts-men. John. The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons. Geo. Nay, more, the king's council are no good workmen. John. True; and yet it is said,-Labor in thy vocation; which is as much to say, as,- Let the magistrates be laboring men; and therefore should we be magistrates. Geo. Thou hast hit it; for there's no better sign of a brave mind, than a hard hand. John. I see them! I see them! There's Best's son, the tanner of Wingham ; Geo. He shall have the skins of our enemies, to make dog's leather of. John. And Dick the butcher, Geo. Then is sin struck down like an ox, and iniquity's throat cut like a calf. John. And Smith the weaver, Geo. Argo, their thread of life is spun. John. Come, come, let's fall in with them. |