K. Henry.
I muse, my lord of Glo'ster 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 peremptory and unlike himself!
We know the time, since he was mild and affable;
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 ev'ry one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow and shews 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 Humphry 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 ranc'rous 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 flatt'ry hath he won the common hearts:
And when he'll please to make commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.
Now 'tis the Spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'er-grow the garden;
And choak 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 lords 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.
And had I first been put to speak my mind,
I think, I should have told your Grace's tale.
The Dutchess, 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 Dutchess
By wicked means to frame our Sov'raign's fall.
Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep;
And in his simple shew he harbours treason.
The Fox barks not, when he would steal the Lamb.
No, no, my Soveraign; Glo'ster 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 Humphry.

K. Henry.
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 Glo'ster 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 downfal.

Q. Mar.
Ah! what's more dang'rous 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 is the ravenous Wolf.
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. Enter Somerset.

Som.
All health unto my gracious Soveraign!

K. Henry.
Welcome, lord Somerset; what news from France?

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

K. Henry.
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. [Aside. Enter Gloucester.

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 Soveraign.
Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?

York.
'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France;
And, being Protector, staid 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 England.
That doit that e'er I wrested from the King,
Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
Be brought against me at my tryal day.
No; many a pound of my own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy Commons,
Have I dis-pursed 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 murtherer,
Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers,
I never gave them condign punishment.
Murther, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
Above the felon, or what trespass else.

Suf.
My lord, these faults are easie, quickly answer'd:
But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge,
Whereof you cannot easily purge your self.
I do arrest you in his Highness' name,

And here commit you to my lord Cardinal
To keep, until your further time of tryal.

K. Henry.
My lord of Glo'ster, 'tis my special Hope,
That you will clear your self from all suspicion;
My conscience tells me, you are innocent.

Glo.
Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous:
Virtue is choak'd with foul ambition,
And Charity chas'd hence by Rancor'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.
Beauford's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormed hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue
The envious load, that lies upon his heart:
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose over-weening 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;
(My self 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 antient 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 traitor's 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 clarkly coucht?
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. [Exit, guarded.

K. Henry.
My lords, what to your wisdom seemeth best,
Do or undo, as if our self were here.

Q. Mar.
What, will your Highness leave the Parliament?

K. Henry.
Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief,
Whose flood begins to flow within my eyes;
My body round engirt with misery:
For what's more miserable than discontent?
Ah, uncle Humphry! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth, and loyalty:
And yet, good Humphry, 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,
That 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 strives,(9) ^note

Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house:
Even so, remorsless, have they born him hence.
And as the dam runs lowing up and down,
Looking the way her harmless young one went,
And can do nought but wail her darling's loss:
Even so my self bewail good Glo'ster's case
With sad unhelpful tears; and with dim'd eyes
Look after him, and cannot do him good:
So mighty are his vowed enemies.
His fortunes I will weep, and 'twixt each groan
Say, who's a traitor? Glo'ster he is none. [Exit.

Q. Mar.
Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams.
Henry my lord is cold in great affairs,
Too full of foolish pity: Glo'ster's shew
Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers:
Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowry bank,
With shining checker'd slough, doth sting a child
That for the beauty thinks it excellent.
Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I,
(And yet herein I judge my own wit good)
This Glo'ster should be quickly rid the world,
To rid us from the fear we have of him.

Car.
That he should die, is worthy policy;
But yet we want a colour for his death:
'Tis meet, he be condemn'd by course of law.

Suf.
But in my mind, that were no policy:
The King will labour still to save his life,

The Commons haply rise to save his life,
And yet we have but trivial argument,
More than mistrust, that shews him worthy death.

York.
So that, by this, you would not have him die.

Suf.
Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I.

York.
'Tis York, that hath more reason for his death.
But my lord Cardinal, and you my lord of Suffolk,
Say as you think, and speak it from your souls:
Were't not all one, an empty eagle were set
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
As place Duke Humphry for the King's Protector?

Q. Mar.
So the poor chicken should be sure of death.

Suf.
Madam, 'tis true; and wer't not madness, then,
To make the fox surveyor of the fold?
Who being accus'd a crafty murtherer,
His guilt should be but idly posted over,
Because his purpose is not executed.
No; let him die, in that he is a fox,
By Nature prov'd an enemy to the flock;
Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood,
As Humphry prov'd by reasons to my Liege;
And do not stand on quillets how to slay him:
Be it by ginns, by snares, by subtilty,
Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how,
So he be dead; for that is good deceit
Which mates him first, that first intends deceit.

Q. Mar.
Thrice-noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.

Suf.
Not resolute, except so much were done;
For things are often spoke, and seldom meant;
But that my heart accordeth with my tongue,
Seeing the deed is meritorious,
And to preserve my Soveraign from his foe,
Say but the word, and I will be his priest.

Car.
But I would have him dead, my lord of Suffolk,
Ere you can take due orders for a priest:
Say you consent, and censure well the deed,
And I'll provide his executioner,
I tender so the safety of my Liege.

Suf.
Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.

Q. Mar.
And so say I.

York.
And I: and now we three have spoke it,
It skills not greatly, who impugns our doom. Enter a Post.

Post.
Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain,
To signifie that Rebels there are up,
And put the Englishmen unto the sword:
Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime,
Before the wound do grow incurable;
For being green, there is great hope of help.

Car.
A breach, that craves a quick expedient Stop!
What counsel give you in this weighty cause?

York.
That Somerset be sent a Regent thither:
'Tis meet, that lucky ruler be employ'd:
Witness the fortune he hath had in France.—

Som.
If York, with all his far-fetch'd policy,
Had been the Regent there instead of me,
He never would have staid in France so long.

York.
No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done:
I rather would have lost my life betimes,
Than bring a burthen of dishonour home,
By staying there so long, till all were lost.
Shew me one scar, character'd on thy skin:
Mens flesh preserv'd so whole, do seldom win.

Q. Mar.
Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire,
If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with:
No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be still.
Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been Regent there,
Might happily have prov'd far worse than his.

York.
What, worse than nought? nay, then a shame take all!

Som.
And, in the number, thee that wishest shame!

Car.
My lord of York, try what your fortune is;
Th' uncivil Kerns of Ireland are in arms,
And temper clay with blood of Englishmen.
To Ireland will you lead a band of men,
Collected choicely, from each county some,
And try your hap against the Irishmen?

York.
I will, my lord, so please his Majesty.

Suf.
Why, our Authority is his consent;
And what we do establish, he confirms;
Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.

York.
I am content: provide me soldiers, lords,
Whilst I take order for mine own affairs.

Suf.
A charge, lord York, that I will see perform'd:
But now return we to the false Duke Humphry.

Car.
No more of him; for I will deal with him,
That henceforth he shall trouble us no more:
And so break off: the day is almost spent:
Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event.

York.
My lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days
At Bristol I expect my soldiers;
For there I'll ship them all for Ireland.

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

York.
Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts,
And change misdoubt to resolution:
Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art
Resign 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.
Faster than spring-time show'rs, comes thought on thought,
And not a thought, but thinks on dignity.
My brain, more busie than the lab'ring spider,
Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.
Well, Nobles, well; 'tis politickly done,
To send me packing with an host of men:
I fear me, you but warm the starved Snake,
Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me;
I take it kindly: yet be well assur'd,
You put sharp weapons in a mad-man's hands.
Whilst I in Ireland nourish a mighty band,
I will stir up in England some black storm,
Shall blow ten thousand souls to heav'n or hell.
And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage,
Until the golden circuit on my head,
(Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,)

Do calm the fury of this mad-brain'd flaw.
And, for a minister of my intent,
I have seduc'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 seen this stubborn Cade
Oppose himself against a troop of Kerns;
And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts
Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porcupine:
And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen
Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,
Shaking the bloody darts, as he his bells.
Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty Kern,
Hath he conversed with the enemy;
And undiscover'd come to me again,
And giv'n me notice of their villanies.
This devil here shall be my substitute;
For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gate, in speech he doth resemble.
By this, I shall 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 say I mov'd him to those arms.
Say, that he thrive; as 'tis great like, he will;
Why, then, from Ireland come I with my strength,
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.

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