Bed.
'Fore God, his Grace is bold to trust these traitors.

Exe.
They shall be apprehended by and by.

West.
How smooth and even they do bear themselves,
As if allegiance in their bosoms sate,
Crowned with faith and constant loyalty!

Bed.
The King hath note of all that they intend,
By interception which they dream not of.

Exe.
Nay, but the man that was his bedfellow,
Whom he hath lull'd and cloy'd with gracious favours;
That he should for a foreign purse so sell
^{8 note}
His Sovereign's life to death and treachery! [Trumpets sound. Enter the King, Scroop, Cambridge, Grey, and Attendants.

K. Henry.
Now sits the wind fair, and we will aboard.
My Lord of Cambridge, and my Lord of Masham,
And you my gentle Knight, give me your thoughts:
Think you not, that the pow'rs, we bear with us,
Will cut their passage through the force of France;
Doing the execution and the act

^{9 note}

Scroop.
No doubt, my Liege, if each man do his best.

K. Henry.
I doubt not that; since we are well persuaded
We carry not a heart with us from hence
That grows not in a fair consent with ours,
Nor leave not one behind that doth not wish
Success and conquest to attend on us.

Cam.
Never was monarch better fear'd, and lov'd,
Than is your Majesty; there's not, I think, a subject
That sits in heart-grief and uneasiness
Under the sweet shade of your government.

Grey.
True; those that were your father's enemies
Have steept their gauls in honey, and do serve you
^{1 note}With hearts create of duty and of zeal.

K. Henry.
We therefore have great cause of thankfulness,
And shall forget the office of our hand
Sooner than quittance of desert and merit
According to the weight and worthiness.

Scroop.
So service shall with steeled sinews toil,
And labour shall refresh itself with hope
To do your Grace incessant services.

K. Henry.
We judge no less. Uncle of Exeter,
Inlarge the man committed yesterday,
That rail'd against our person. We consider,
It was excess of wine that set him on,
And on his ^{2 note}more advice we pardon him.

Scroop.
That's mercy, but too much security;
Let him be punish'd, Sovereign, lest example

Breed, by his suff'rance, more of such a kind.

K. Henry.
O, let us yet be merciful.

Cam.
So may your Highness, and yet punish too.

Grey.
You shew great mercy, if you give him life,
After the taste of much correction.

K. Henry.
Alas, your too much love and care of me
Are heavy orisons 'gainst this poor wretch.
If little faults, ^{3 note}

Cam.
I one, my Lord.
Your Highness bad me ask for it to day.

Scroop.
So did you me, my Liege.

Grey.
And I, my Sovereign.

K. Henry.
Then Richard, Earl of Cambridge, there is yours;
There yours, Lord Scroop of Masham; and Sir Knight,
Grey of Northumberland, this same is yours.
Read them, and know, I know your worthiness.
My Lord of Westmorland and uncle Exeter,
We will aboard to-night.—Why, how now, gentlemen?
What see you in those papers, that you lose
So much complexion?—look ye, how they change!
Their cheeks are paper.—Why, what read you there,
That hath so cowarded, and chas'd your blood

Out of appearance?

Cam.
I confess my fault,
And do submit me to your Highness' mercy.

Grey. Scroop.
To which we all appeal.

K. Henry.
The mercy, that was ^{5 note}quick in us but late,
By your own counsel is suppress'd and kill'd.
You must not dare for shame to talk of mercy,
For your own reasons turn into your bosoms,
As dogs upon their masters, worrying you.
See you, my Princes and my noble Peers,
These English monsters! My Lord Cambridge here,
You know, how apt our love was to accord
To furnish him with all appertinents
Belonging to his Honour; and this man
Hath for a few light crowns lightly conspir'd,
And sworn unto the practices of France
To kill us here in Hampton. To the which,
This Knight, no less for bounty bound to us
Than Cambridge is, hath likewise sworn. But O!
What shall I say to thee, Lord Scroop, thou cruel,
Ingrateful, savage, and inhuman creature!
Thou, that didst bear the key of all my counsels,
That knew'st the very bottom of my soul,
That almost might'st have coin'd me into gold,
Wouldst thou have practis'd on me for thy use;
May it be possible, that foreign hire
Could out of thee extract one spark of evil,
That might annoy my finger? 'Tis so strange
That ^{6 note}
though the truth of it stand off as gross
As black and white, my eye will scarcely see it.

^{7 note}Treason and murder ever kept together,
As two yoak-devils sworn to either's purpose,
^{8 note}

Why so didst thou. Seem they religious?
Why so didst thou. Or are they spare in diet,
Free from gross passion or of mirth, or anger,
Constant in spirit, not swerving with the blood,
^{2 note}

With some suspicion. I will weep for thee.
For this revolt of thine, methinks, is like
Another fall of man.—Their faults are open;
Arrest them to the answer of the law,
And God acquit them of their practices!

Exe.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Richard Earl of Cambridge.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Henry Lord Scroop of Masham.

I arrest thee of high treason, by the name of Thomas Grey, Knight of Northumberland.

Scroop.
Our purposes God justly hath discover'd,
And I repent my fault, more than my death,
Which I beseech your Highness to forgive,
Although my body pay the price of it.

Cam.
For me, the gold of France did not seduce,
Although I did admit it as a motive
The sooner to effect what I intended;
But God be thanked for prevention,
Which I in suff'rance heartily rejoice for,
Beseeching God and you to pardon me.

Grey.
Never did faithful subject more rejoice
At the discovery of most dangerous treason,
Than I do at this hour joy o'er myself,
Prevented from a damned enterprize.
^{6 note}

K. Henry.
God quit you in his mercy! Hear your sentence.
You have conspir'd against our royal person,
Join'd with an enemy proclaim'd, and from his coffers
Receiv'd the golden earnest of our death,

Wherein you would have sold your King to slaughter,
His Princes and his Peers to servitude,
His subjects to oppression and contempt,
And his whole kingdom into desolation.
Touching, our person, seek we no revenge;
But we our kingdom's safety must so tender,
Whose ruin you three sought, that to her laws
We do deliver you. Go therefore hence,
Poor miserable wretches, to your death;
The taste whereof God of his mercy give
You patience to endure, and true Repentance
Of all your dear offences!—Bear them hence. [Exeunt.
—Now, Lords, for France; the enterprize whereof
Shall be to you, as us, like glorious.
We doubt not of a fair and lucky war,
Since God so graciously hath brought to light
This dangerous treason lurking in our way,
To hinder our beginning. Now we doubt not,
But every rub is smoothed in our way.
Then forth, dear countrymen; let us deliver
Our puissance into the hand of God,
Putting it straight in expedition.
Chearly to sea. The signs of war advance;
No King of England, if not King of France. [Exeunt.

Previous section

Next section