Glo. No, stir not for your lives: let her pass by.
Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open
shame?

Now thou dost penance, too. Look how they gaze!
See how the giddy multitude do point,
And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
Ah Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks;
And in thy closet pent up rue my shame,
And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell: forget this grief.
Duch. Ah Gloster, teach me to forget myself:
For whilst I think I am thy married wife,
And thou a prince, protector of this land,
Methinks I should not thus be led along
Mailed up in shame, with papers on my back;
And followed with a rabble, that rejoice
To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet:
And when I start the envious people laugh,
And bid me be advised how I tread.
Ah Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke:
Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world,
Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
No; dark shall be my light, and night my day:
To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, "I am Duke Humphrey's

wife;

And he a prince and ruler of the land:
Yet so he ruled, and such a prince he was,
As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,

Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
To every idle rascal follower!"
But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame;
Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as sure it shortly will.
For Suffolk (he that can do all in all
With her that hateth thee and hates us all),
And York, and impious Beaufort that false priest,
Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst they'll tangle

thee:

But fear not thou until thy foot is snared,
Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

Glo. Ah Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry:
I must offend before I be attainted:
And had I twenty times so many foes,
And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not procure me any scathe,
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Would'st have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why yet thy scandal were not wiped away,
But I in danger for the breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell:

I

pray thee, sort thy heart to patience: These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.

Enter a Herald.

Her. I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, holden at Bury the first of this next month.

Glo. And my consent ne'er asked herein before! This is close dealing.-Well, I will be there.[Exit Herald. My Nell, I take my leave:-and, master sheriff, Let not her penance exceed the King's commission.

Sher. An't please your grace, here my commission stays:

And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
To take her with him to the Isle of Man.

Glo. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? Stan. So am I given in charge, may 't please your grace.

Glo. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray You use her well.

The world may laugh again: and I may live
To do you kindness, if you do it her.
And so, Sir John, farewell.

Duch. What, gone, my lord; and bid me not farewell?

Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. [Exeunt GLOSTER and Servants.

Duch. Art thou gone too? All comfort go with

thee!

For none abides with me. My joy is death: Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,

Because I wished this world's eternity.-
Stanley, I pr'y thee go, and take me hence;
I care not whither, for I beg no favour:
Only convey me where thou art commanded.

Stan. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; There to be used according to your state. Duch. That's bad enough: for I am but reproach;

And shall I then be used reproachfully?

Stan. Like to a duchess and Duke Humphrey's lady,

According to that state you shall be used.

Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare; Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.

Sher. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. Duch. Ay, ay farewell thy office is discharged.

Come, Stanley, shall we go?

Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,

And go we to attire you for our journey.

Duch. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet:

No, it will hang upon my richest robes,
And shew itself attire me how I can.

Go,lead the way: Ilong to see my prison. [Exeunt.

SCENE I.-The Abbey at Bury.

Enter to the Parliament, KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, and others.

K. Hen. I muse my lord of Gloster is not come : 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.

Q. Mar. Can you not see, or will you not
observe,

The strangeness of his altered countenance?
With what a majesty he bears himself;
How insolent of late he is become:
How proud, peremptory, and unlike himself?
We know the time since he was mild and affable;
And if we did but glance a far-off look,
Immediately he was upon his knee,

That all the court admired him for submission:
But meet him now, and be it in the morn,
When every one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow and shews an angry eye,
And passeth by with stiff unbowéd knee,
Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
Small curs are not regarded when they grin,
But great men tremble when the lion roars;
And Humphrey is no little man in England.
First, note that he is near you in descent;
And should you fall, he is the next will mount.
Me seemeth, then, it is no policy,
Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,
And his advantage following your decease,
That he should come about your royal person,
Or be admitted to your highness' council.
By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts;
And when he please to make commotion,

'Tis to be feared they all will follow him.
Now 't is the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted :
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care I bear unto my lord
Made me collect these dangers in the duke.
If it be fond, call it a woman's fear:
Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
I will subscribe, and say I wronged the duke.
My lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
Reprove my allegation, if you can;
Or else conclude my words effectual.

Suf. Well hath your highness seen into this duke;

And had I first been put to speak my mind,
I think I should have told your grace's tale.
The duchess by his subornation,
Upon my life, began her devilish practices:
Or if he were not privy to those faults,
Yet by reputing of his high descent
(As, next the King he was successive heir),
And such high vaunts of his nobility,
Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess
By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep;
And in his simple show he harbours treason.
The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.
No, no, my sovereign; Gloster is a man
Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.

Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done?

York. And did he not, in his protectorship, Levy great sums of money through the realm For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it? By means whereof the towns each day revolted.

Buck. Tut! these are petty faults to faults unknown,

Which time will bring too light in smooth Duke Humphrey.

K. Hen. My lords, at once:-The care you have of us,

To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot,
Is worthy praise: but shall I speak my conscience?
Our kinsman Gloster is as innocent

From meaning treason to our royal person
As is the suckling lamb or harmless dove.
The duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given
To dream on evil, or to work my downfall.

Q. Mar. Ah, what's more dangerous than
this fond affiance!

Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed,
For he 's disposéd as the hateful raven.
Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclined as are the ravenous wolves:
Who cannot steal a shape, that means deceit?
Take heed, my lord: the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.

Enter SOMERSET.

Som. All health unto my gracious sovereign! K. Hen. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?

Som. That all your interest in those territories Is utterly bereft you: all is lost.

K. Hen. Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done!

York. Cold news for me! for I had hope of
France,

As firmly as I hope for fertile England.
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.

[Aside.

Glo. Is it but thought so? What are they that
think it?

I never robbed the soldiers of their pay,
Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
So help me God as I have watched 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 disperséd to the garrisons,
And never asked 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 defamed by tyranny.

Glo. Why, 't is well known that, whiles I was
protector,

Pity was all the fault that was in me:
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 fleeced poor passengers,

I never gave them cóndign punishment.
Murder, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured
Above the felon or what trespass else.

Suf. My lord, these faults are easy; quickly

answered:

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 choked with foul ambition,
And charity chased hence by rancour's hand;
Foul subornation is predominant,

And equity exiled 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 stormy hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load that lies upon his heart;
And doggéd York, that reaches at the moon
(Whose overweening arm I have plucked 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 stirred 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.

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 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 traitors' rage.
Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at,
And the offender granted scope of speech,
"T will make them cool in zeal unto your grace.
Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here
With ignominious words, though clerkly couched,
As if she had subornéd 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 played 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 ourselves were here.

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

K. Hen. Ay, Margaret: my heart is drowned

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 proved thee false, or feared 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 so, 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 dimmed 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, rolled in a flowering bank
With shining chequered 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 my 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 condemned by course of law.

Suf. 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 shews him worthy death, York. So that by this you would not have him die. Suf. Ah York, no man alive so fain as I. York. 'Tis York that hath more reason for [Aside.

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.

Suf. Madam, 't is true. And wer 't not madness, then,

To make the fox surveyor of the fold:
Who being accused 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 proved an enemy to the flock,
Before his chaps be stained with crimson blood:
As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege.
And do not stand on quillets how to slay him: