Tork. My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days At Briflol I expect my foldiers;

For there I'll fhip them all for Ireland.

Suf. I'll fee it truly done, my lord of York. [Exeunt.
Manet York.

York. Now, York, or never, fteel thy fearful thoughts, 'And change misdoubt to resolution:

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 bufie 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 starved Snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breast, 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 ftorm,
Shall blow ten thousand fouls to heav'n or hell.
And this fell tempeft fhall not cease 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 minister of my intent,

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

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

In Ireland have I feen this stubborn 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,

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 villanies.
This devil here fhall be my fubftitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gate, in fpeech 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 rascal sow'd;
For Humphry being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put a-part, the next for me.

[Exit:

SCENE, an Apartment in the Palace.

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

I.

"R

UN to my lord of Suffolk; let him know, We have dispatch'd the Duke, as he commanded. 2. Oh, that it were to do! what have we done? Didst ever hear a man fo penitent ?

Enter Suffolk.

1. Here comes my lord.

Suf. Now, Sir, have you dispatch'd this thing? 1. Ay, my good lord, he's dead.

Suf. Why, that's well faid. Go, get you to my houfe;

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?

1. Yes, my good lord.

Suf. Away, be gone.

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 'gainst our uncle Glofter,

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

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

Pray God, he may acquit him of fufpicion!

K. Henry. I thank thee: Well, these words content me much. (8)

Enter Suffolk.

How now? why look'ft thou pale? why trembleft 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!

(8) I thank thee, Nell, thefe Words content me much.] This is K. Henry's Reply to his Wife Margaret. Our Poet, I remember, in his King John, makes Faulconbridge the Bastard, upon his first stepping into Honour, fay, that he will study to forget his old Acquaintance;

And if his Name be George, I'll call him Peter ;
For new-made Honour doth forget Mens Names.

But, furely, this is wide of King Henry's Cafe; and it can be no Reason why he fhould forget his own Wife's Name; and call her Nell inftead of Margaret. As the Change of a fingle Letter sets all right, I am willing to suppose it came from his Pen thus;

I thank thee: Well; thefe Words content me much.

K. Henry was a Prince of great Piety and Meeknefs, a great Lover of his Uncle Gloucester, whom his Nobles were rigidly perfecuting: and to whom he fufpected the Queen bore no very good Will in her Heart: But finding her, beyond his hopes, peak fo candidly in the Duke's Cafe, he is mightily comfortfed and contented at her impartial Seeming.

Car.

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, comfort. K. Henry. What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to fing a raven's note, Whofe difmal tune bereft my vital pow'rs: And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breast, Can chafe away the firft-conceived found? Hide not thy poison with such 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, bafilisk; 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' fler'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 my self, 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 av
So fhall my name with flander's tongue
And Princes' Courts be fill'd with my
This get I by his death: ah, me unhap
To be a Queen, and crown'd with infa
K. Henry, Ah, woe is me for Glofte
Q. Mar. Be woe for me, more wret
What, doft thou turn away and hide th
I am no loathfome leper; look on me.
What, art thou like the adder waxen
Be pois'nous too, and kill thy forlorn
Is all thy comfort fhut in Glo'fier's tomb
Why, then, dame Margaret was ne'er
Erect his ftatue, and do worship to it,
And make my image but an ale-house fi
Was I for this nigh wreckt upon the fea
And twice by adverfe winds from Engla
Drove back again unto my native clim
What boaded this? but well-fore-warni
Did feem to fay, feek not a fcorpion's
Nor fet no footing on this unkind fhoar
What did I then? but curft the gentle
And he that loos'd them from their bra
And bid them blow towards England's
Or turn our ftern upon a dreadful rock:
Yet Eolus would not be a murtherer;
But left that hateful office unto thee.
The pretty vaulting fea refus'd to drown
Knowing, that thou wouldst have me d
With tears as falt as fea, through thy un
The splitting rocks cow'r'd in the finkin
And would not dash me with their ragged
Because thy flinty heart, more hard tha
Might in thy Palace perish Margaret.
As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs,
When from thy fhoar the tempeft beat us
I ftood upon the hatches in the ftorm;
And when the dusky sky began to rob