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But I will remedy this gear ere long,
Or fell my title for a glorious grave.

[ Afide.
SCENE II. Enter Gloucester,
Glo. All happiness unto my Lord the King!
Pardon, my Liege, that I have staid so long.

Suf. Nay, Glo'lter, know, that thou art come too Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art. [foon, I do arrest thee of high treason here.

Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not see me blush, Nor change my countenance for this arrelt. A heart unfpotted 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, staid the soldiers' pay ; By means whereof his Highness hath loft France.

Glo. Is it but thought fo? what are they that think I never robb’d the soldiers of their pay,

[it? 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 trial-day! No; many a pound of my own proper store, Because I would not tax the needy commons, Have I disbursed 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; fo 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 ProPity was all the fault that was in me:

[tector, 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,


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I never gave them condign punishment.
Murther, indeed, that bloody fin, I tortur'd
Above the felon, or what trespass else.
Suf. My Lord, these faults are easy, quickly an.

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. Henry. My Lord of Glo'ster,'tis my special hope,
That you will clear yourself from all fufpicion;
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 exild 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.
Beaufort'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 beart;
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 liefert Liege to be mine enemy:
Aj, all of you have laid your heads together,
(Myself 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 ancient proverb will be well effected,

A fiaf is quickly found to beat a dog.

Car. My Liege, his railing is intolerable.
If ihose 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 fcope of speech,
'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace.

Suf. Hath he not twit our Sovereign Lady here
With ignominious words, thougb clarkly couch'd,
As if she had fuborned fome to swear
False allegations, to o'erthrow his fate?

2. Mar. Bat I can give the loser leave to chide.

Glo. Far truer spoke than meant; Ilose, indeed; Befhrew 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 thepherd beaten from thy fide, And wolves are gnarling who Mall gnaw thee first. Ah, that fear were false! ah that it were ! For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. [Exit guarded.

SCE NE IN. K. Henry. My Lords, what to your wisdom secmeth Do or undo, as if ourself were here.

[belt, 2. Mar. What will your Highness leave the parlia•'

ment? K. Henry. Ay, Margaret ; my heart is drown'd with Whose flood begins to flow within my eyes; [grief, My body round ingirt 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 har now envies thy estate, That these great Lords, and Margaret our Queen, Do feek 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,
Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house;
Even so remorseleis have they borce 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 lots ;
Even so myself bewail good Glo'ster's cafe
With fad 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 ? Glo'ster he is none [Exit.

2. Mar. Free Lords, cold snow melts with the fun's Henry my Lord is cold in great affairs, [hot beams, Too full of foolish pity : Glo'ster's fhew Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile With sorrow snares relenting passengers : Or as the snake, roll'd in a flow'ry bank, With shining chequer'd flough,' doth fting a child That for the beauty thinks it excellent, Believe me, Lords, were none more wise than 1, (And yet herein I judge my own wit good), This Glo'lter 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, this 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 mistruít, that shews him worthy death.

York. So that by this, you would not have him die.
Suf. Ah, York, no man alive fo 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 fet
To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,
As place Duke Humphry for the King's Protector ?

2. Mar. So the poor chicken lould be lure of death.

Suf. Madam, 'tis true ; and were't not madness then To make the fox surveyor of the fold? Who being accus'd a crafty murtherer, His guilt fhould be but idly posted over, Because his purpose is not executed. No; let him die, in that he is a fox, By nature prov'à an enemy to the flock, before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, As Humphry's prov'd by reasons to my Liege; And do not stand on quillets liow to flay 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,

2 Mar. Thrice Noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke.

Suf. Not resolute, except fo much were done; For things are often spoke, and seldom meant ; But that


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 Saffolk,
Ere you can take due orders for a priest ;
Say you consent, and centure 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. 2. Mar. And fo say I.

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

SCE N E IV. Enter a Post. Poft. Great Lords, from Ireland am I come amain, To fignify 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 caufe ?

York. bat-Somerset be sent a Regent thither; 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd ;

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