Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.
Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age
Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!-
I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go;
Sorrow would solace, and mine age would ease.
K. Hen. Stay, Humphrey duke of Gloster:
ere thou go,

Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself
Protector be: and God shall be my hope,
My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet;
And go in peace, Humphrey; no less belov❜d,
Than when thou wert protector to thy king.
Q. Mar. I see no reason, why a king of years
Should be to be protected like a child.-
God and king Henry govern England's helm:
Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm.
Glo. My staff?-here, noble Henry, is my staff:
As willingly do I the same resign,
As e'er thy father Henry made it mine;
And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it,
As others would ambitiously receive it.
Farewell, good king: When I am dead and gone,
May honourable peace attend thy throne! [Exit.
Q. Mar. Why, now is Henry king, and Mar-

jesty,

This is the day appointed for the combat; And ready are the appellant and defendant, The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, So please your highness to behold the fight.

Q. Mar. Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore

Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.
K. Hen. O' God's name, see the lists and all
things fit;

Here let them end it, and God defend the right!
York. I never saw a fellow worse bested,
Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant,
The servant of this armourer, my lords.

Enter, on one side, HORNER, and his Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is drunk; and he enters bearing his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; a drum before him: at the other side, PETER, with a drum and a similar staff; accompanied by Prentices drinking to him.

1 Neigh. Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup of sack; And fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough.

2 Neigh. And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco.

3 Neigh. And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour drink, and fear not your man. Hor. Let it come, i'faith, and I'll pledge you all; And a fig for Peter!

1 Pren. Here, Peter, I drink to thee; and be not afraid.

2 Pren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master; fight for credit of the prentices.

Peter. I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for, I think, I have taken my last draught in this world.-Here, Robin, an if I die, I give thee my apron; and, Will, thou shalt have my hammer and here, Tom, take all the money that I have.-O Lord, bless me, I pray God! for I am never able to deal with my master, he hath learnt so much fence already.

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

Peter. Peter, forsooth.
Sal. Peter! what more?
Peter. Thump.

Sal. Thump then see thou thump thy master well.

Hor. Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's instigation, to prove him a knave, and myself an honest man: and touching the duke of York, 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 Ascapart.

York. Despatch:-this knave's tongue begins to double.

Sound trumpets, alarum to the combatants.

[Alarum. They fight, and Peter strikes down his Master.

Hor. Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess [Dies.

treason.

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

Peter. O God! have I overcome mine enemies in this presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right!

K. Hen. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight;

For, by his death, we do perceive his guilt:
And God, in justice, hath reveal'd to us
The truth and innocence of this poor fellow,
Which he had thought to have murder'd wrong-
fully.-

Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. [Exeunt.

SCENE IV.-The same. A street.

Enter GLOSTER and Servants, in mourning cloaks.

Glo. Thus, sometimes, hath the brightest day a cloud;

And, after summer, ever more succeeds
Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:
So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.-
Sirs, what's o'clock ?

Serv. Ten, my lord.

Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me, To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess: Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook The abject people, gazing on thy face, With envious looks still laughing at thy shame; That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels, When thou didst ride in triumph through the

streets.

But, soft! I think, she comes; and I'll prepare My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.

Enter the Duchess of GLOSTER in a white sheet, with papers pinn'd upon her back, her feet bare, and a taper burning in her hand; Sir JOHN STANLEY, a Sheriff, and Officers.

Serv. So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.

Glo. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame ?

Now thou dost penance too. Look, how they gaze!

See, how the giddy multitude do point,

And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!

Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks;
And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
Duch. Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself:
For, whilst I think I am thy married wife,
And thou a prince, protector of this land,
Methinks, I should not thus be led along,
Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back;
And follow'd with a rabble, that rejoice
To see my tears, and hear my deep-fet groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet;
And, when I start, the envious people laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.
Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
Trow'st thou, that e'er I'll look upon the world;
Or count them happy, that enjoy the sun?
No; dark shall be my light, and night my day;
To think upon my pomp, shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, I am duke Humphrey's
And he a prince, and ruler of the land:
Yet so he rul'd, and such a prince he was,
As he stood by, whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock,
To every idle rascal follower.

wife;

But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame;
Nor stir at nothing, till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will.
For Suffolk,-he, that can do all in all,
With her that hateth thee, and hates us all,-
And York, and impious Beaufort, that false
priest,

Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee:
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snar'd,
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 so many foes, And each of them had twenty times their power, All these could not procure me any scathe, So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless. Would'st have me rescue thee from this reproach? Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away, But I in danger for the breach of law. Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell: I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience; These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.

Glo. And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! This is close dealing.-Well, I will be there. [Exit Herald.

My Nell, I take my leave :—and, master sheriff, Let not her penance exceed the king's commission.

Sher. An't please your grace, here my commission stays:

And sir John Stanley is appointed now
To take her with him to the isle of Man.
Glo. Must you, sir John, protect my lady here?
Stan. So am I given 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 so, sir John, farewell.

Duch. What, gone, my lord; and bid me not farewell?

Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. [Exeunt Gloster and Servants. Duch. Art thou gone too? All comfort go with thee!

For none abides with me; my joy is death;
Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd,
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.
Duch. That's bad enough, for I am but re-
proach:

And shall I then be used reproachfully?
Stan. Like toa duchess, and duke Humphrey's

lady,

According to that state you shall be used.

Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare; Although thou hast been conduct of my shame! Sher. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. Duch. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.

Come, Stanley, shall we go?

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

And go we to attire you for our journey.

No, it will hang upon my richest robes,

[Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The Abbey at Bury.

Enter, to the Parliament, King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, and Others.

K. Hen. I muse, my lord of Gloster is not

come:

'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.

Q. Mar. Can you not see? or will you not
observe

The strangeness of his alter'd countenance?
With what a majesty he bears himself;
How insolent of late he is become,
How proud, peremptory, and unlike himself?
We know the time, since he was mild and af-
fable;

And, if we did but glance a far-off look,
Immediately he was upon his knee,

That all the court admir'd him for submission:
But meet him now, and, be it in the morn,
When every one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow, and shows an angry eye,
And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee,
Disdaining duty that to us belongs.

Small curs are not regarded when they grin ;
But great men tremble when the lion roars;
And Humphrey is no little man in England.
First, note, that he is near you in descent;
And should you fall, he is the next will mount.
Me seemeth then, it is no policy,
Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,
And his advantage following your decease,—
That he should come about your royal person,
Or be admitted to your highness' council.
By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts;
And, when he please to make commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd, they all will follow him.
Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-root-

ed;
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care, I bear unto my lord,
Made me collect these dangers in the duke.
If it be fond, call it a woman's fear;
Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
I will subscribe and say-I wrong'd the duke.
My lord of Suffolk,-Buckingham,—and York,—
Reprove my allegation, if you can;

Or else conclude my words effectual.

Suf. Well hath your highness seen into this duke;

4

And, had I first been put to speak my mind,
I think, I should have told your grace's tale.
The duchess, by his subornation,
Upon my life, began her devilish practices;
Or if he were not privy to those faults,
Yet, by reputing of his high descent,
(As next the king, he was successive heir,)
And such high vaunts of his nobility,
Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess,
By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep;
And in his simple show he harbours treason.
The fox barks not, when he would steal the lamb.
No, no, my sovereign; Gloster is a man
Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.

Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done?

York. And did he not, in his protectorship, Levy great sums of money through the realm, For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? By means whereof, the towns each day revolted.

Buck. Tut! these are petty faults to faults unknown,

Which time will bring to light in smooth duke Humphrey.

K. Hen. My lords, at once: The care you

have of us,

To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, Is worthy praise: But shall I speak my conscience?

Our kinsman Gloster is as innocent
From meaning treason to our royal person,
As is the sucking lamb, or harmless dove:
The duke is virtuous, mild; and too well given,
To dream on evil, or to work my downfall.

Q. Mar. Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance!

Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd,
For he's disposed as the hateful raven.
Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclin'd as are the ravenous wolves.
Who cannot steal a shape, that means deceit ?
Take heed, my lord; the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.

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 you took
bribes of France,

And, being protector, staied 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 dispersed 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

Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,
And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,

And equity exil'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;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
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,

I shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt;
The ancient proverb will be well affected,-
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