Noise of a Croud within. Re-enter SALISBURY.

*Sal. Sirs, stand apart; the king shall know your mind.- [Speaking to those within. Dread lord, the commons send you word by me, Unless false Suffolk straight be done to death, Or banished fair England's territories,

They will by violence tear him from your palace, * And torture him with grievous ling'ring death. They say, by him the good duke Humphrey died; They say, in him they fear your highness' death; And mere instinct of love, and loyalty,

'Free from a stubborn opposite intent,

'As being thought to contradict your liking,'Makes them thus forward in his banishment. *They say, in care of your most royal person, *That, if your highness should intend to sleep, *And charge-that no man should disturb your rest, * In pain of your dislike, or pain of death; * Yet notwithstanding such a strait edict, * Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue, *That slily glided towards your majesty,

* It were but necessary you were wak'd;

* Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, *The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal: * And therefore do they cry, though you forbid, *That they will guard you, whe'r you will, or no, * From such fell serpents as false Suffolk is; * With whose envenomed and fatal sting, * Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth, * They say, is shamefully bereft of life.

Commons. [Within.] An answer from my king, my lord of Salisbury.

Suf. "Tis like, the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds, Could send such message to their sovereign:

9 The mortal worm-] i, e. the fatal, the deadly worm.

But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd,
To show how quaint an orator1 you are:
But all the honour Salisbury hath won,
Is that he was the lord ambassador,
Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king.

Commons. [Within.] An answer from the king, or we'll all break in.

'K. Hen. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, 'I thank them for their tender loving care: And had I not been 'cited so by them, 'Yet did I purpose as they do entreat; For sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy 'Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means. ' And therefore,-by His majesty I swear, "Whose far unworthy deputy I am,

'He shall not breathe infection in this air3 'But three days longer, on the pain of death. [Exit SALISBURY. 'Q. Mar. O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk! K. Hen. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle

Suffolk.

'No more, I say; if thou dost plead for him,
Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
• Had I but said, I would have kept my word;
'But, when I swear, it is irrevocable:-

* If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found * On any ground that I am ruler of,

* The world shall not be ransome for thy life.'Come, Warwick, come good Warwick, go with me; 'I have great matters to impart to thee.

Exeunt K. HENRY, WARWICK, Lords, &c. 'Q. Mar. Mischance, and sorrow, go along with you!

how quaint an orator -] Quaint for dextrous, artificial. a sort-] Is a company.

" He shall not breathe infection in this air -] That is, he shall not contaminate this air with his infected breath.

'Heart's discontent, and sour affliction, • Be playfellows to keep you company! There's two of you; the devil make a third! And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps! *Suf. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations, * And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.

'Q. Mar. Fye, coward woman, and soft-hearted wretch!

'Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies?

Suf. A plague upon them! wherefore should I
curse them?

Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,*
• I would invent as bitter-searching terms,
* As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth,
• With full as many signs of deadly hate,
As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave:
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words:
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract;
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
And even now my burden'd heart would break,
Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees!
Their chiefest prospect, murdering basilisks!
Their softest touch, as smart as lizards' stings!"
Their musick, frightful as the serpent's hiss;

Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,] The fabulous accounts of the plant called a mandrake give it an inferior degree of animal life, and relate, that when it is torn from the ground it groans, and that this groan being certainly fatal to him that is offering such unwelcome violence, the practice of those who gather mandrakes is to tie one end of a string to the plant, and the other to a dog, upon whom the fatal groan discharges its malignity.

5

murdering basilisks!-lizards' stings!] It has been said of the basilisk that it has the power of destroying by a single glance of the eye. A lizard has no sting, but is quite inoffensive.

And boding screech-owls make the concert full!
All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell-

Q. Mar. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself;

*And these dread curses-like the sun 'gainst glass, * Or like an overcharged gun,-recoil,

* And turn the force of them upon thyself.

Suf. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?" Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport.

* Q. Mar. O, let me entreat thee, cease! Give me thy hand,

* That I may dew it with my mournful tears; *Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, * To wash away my woeful monuments. O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand; Kisses his hand. *That thou might'st think upon these by the seal, 'Through whom a thousand sighs are breath'd for thee!"

So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; "Tis but surmis'd whilst thou art standing by, * As one that surfeits thinking on a want. 'I will repeal thee, or, be well assur'd, 'Adventure to be banished myself:

6 You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave?] This inconsistency is very common in real life. Those who are vexed to impatience, are angry to see others less disturbed than themselves, but when others begin to rave, they immediately see in them what they could not find in themselves, the deformity and folly of useless rage. JOHNSON.

That thou might'st think upon these by the seal,

Through whom a thousand sighs, &c.] That by the impression of my kiss for ever remaining on thy hand thou mightest think on those lips through which a thousand sighs will be breathed for thee.

* And banished I am, if but from thee.

* Go, speak not to me; even now be gone.

* O, go not yet!-Even thus two friends condemn'd

* Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, * Loather a hundred times to part than die. * Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee!

Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished, Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee. * 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou hence; * A wilderness is populous enough,

*So Suffolk had thy heavenly company:

* For where thou art, there is the world itself,
* With every several pleasure in the world;
*And where thou art not, desolation.

* I can no more:-Live thou to joy thy life;
* Myself no joy in nought, but that thou liv'st.

Enter VAUX.

'Q. Mar. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I pr'ythee?

Vaux. To signify unto his majesty,

That cardinal Beaufort is at point of death:

6

For suddenly a grievous sickness took him,

'That makes him gasp, and stare, and catch the

air,

Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth.

Sometime, he talks as if duke Humphrey's ghost 'Were by his side; sometime, he calls the king, And whispers to his pillow, as to him, *The secrets of his overcharged soul: ' And I am sent to tell his majesty, 'That even now he cries aloud for him.

'Q. Mar. Go, tell this heavy message to the king.

[Exit VAUX.

'Ah me! what is this world? what news are these?