K. Henry.
Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Glo'ster's wife,
In sight of God and us your guilt is great;
Receive the sentence of the law for sins,
Such as by God's Book are adjudg'd to death.
You four from hence to prison, back again;
From thence unto the place of execution;
The Witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes,
And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.
You, Madam, for you are more nobly born,
Despoiled of your honour in your life,
Shall after three days open Penance done,
Live in your Country here, in Banishment,
With Sir John Stanley in the Isle of Man.

Elean.
Welcome is exile, welcome were my death.

Glo.
The law, thou seest, hath judg'd thee, Eleanor;
I cannot justifie, whom law condemns. [Exeunt Eleanor, and the others, guarded.
Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.

Ah, Humphry! 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 my age would Ease.

K. Henry.
Stay Humphry, Duke of Glo'ster; ere thou go,
Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself
Protector be, and God shall be my hope,
My stay, my guide, and lanthorn to my feet.
And go in peace, Humphry, 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 realm:
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 willing at thy feet I leave it,
As others would ambitiously receive it.
Farewel, good King; when I am dead and gone,
May honourable peace attend thy throne. [Exit Glo'ster.

Q. Mar.
Why, now is Henry King, and Marg'ret Queen.
And Humphry, Duke of Glo'ster, scarce himself,
That bears so shrewd a maim; two pulls at once;
His lady banish'd, and a limb lopt off:
This staff of honour raught, there let it stand,
Where best it fits to be, in Henry's hand.

Suf.
Thus droops this lofty pine, and hangs his sprayes;
Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her younger days.

York.
Lords, let him go. Please it your Majesty,
This is the day appointed for the combat,
And ready are th' 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 try'd.

K. Henry.
A'God's name, see the lists and all things fit;
Here let them end it, and God guard the right!

York.
I never saw a fellow worse bestead,
Or more afraid to fight, than is th' appellant!
The servant of the armourer, my lords.

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