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.

Enter GLOSTER.

Glo. All happiness unto my lord the king! Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long.

[Aside.

Suff. Nay, Gloster, 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 sovereign: Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty?

York. "Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of
France,

And, being protector, stay'd 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 never 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 trial day!
No! many a pound of mine own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
Have I dispursed 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;

42

For I should melt at an offender's tears,

And lowly words were ransom for their fault.
Unless it were a bloody murderer,

Or foul felonious thief, that fleec'd poor passengers,
I never gave them condign punishment:

Murder, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd
Above the felon, or what trespass else.

Suff. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd: But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.

I do arrest you in his highness' name;
And here commit you to my lord cardinal
To keep, until your further time of trial.

K. Hen. My lord of Gloster, 'tis my special hope,
That you will clear yourself from all suspects;
My conscience tells me, you are innocent.

Glo. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous! Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition,

And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,

And equity exil'd your higness' 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.

Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whose overweening 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,

Myself had notice of your conventicles,
And all to make away my guiltless life:
1 shall not want false witness to condemn me,
Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt:
The ancient 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.
Suff. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here,
With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd,
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.

[Exeunt Attendants, with Gloster. K. Hen. My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best, Do, or undo, as if ourself were here.

Q. Mar. What, will your highness leave the parliament?

K. Hen. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief, Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes;

My body round engirt with misery;

For what's more miserable than discontent?-
Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see
The map of honour, truth, and loyalty;

And yet, good Humphrey, 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?

Thou 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 strays,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house;
Even se, remorseless, have they borne 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 myself bewails good Gloster's case,
With sad unhelpful tears; and with dimm'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? Gloster 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: and Gloster's show
Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile
With sorrow snares relenting passengers;
Or as the snake, roll'd in a flowering bank,
With shining checquer'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 mine own wit good),
This Gloster 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.
Suff. 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 shows him worthy death.

York. So that, by this, you would not have him die. Suff. 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,Wer't not all one, an empty eagle were set

To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
As place duke Humphrey for the king's protector?
Q. Mar. So the poor chicken should be sure of death.
Suff. Madam, 'tis true: And wer't not madness then,
To make the fox surveyor of the fold?

Who being accus'd a crafty murderer,
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 Humphrey, prov'd by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets, how to slay him:
Be it by gins, 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.
Suff. 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 sovereign 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.

Suff. 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.