The second Part of Henry the Sixt.
133
Yorke.
My Lord of Suffolke, within foureteene dayes
At Bristow I expect my Souldiers,
For there Ile shippe them all for Ireland.
My Lord of Suffolke, within foureteene dayes
At Bristow I expect my Souldiers,
For there Ile shippe them all for Ireland.
Suff.
Exeunt.Ile see it truly done, my Lord of Yorke.
Exeunt.Ile see it truly done, my Lord of Yorke.
Manet Yorke.
Yorke.
Now Yorke, or neuer, steele thy fearfull thoughts,
And change misdoubt to resolution;
Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art;
Resigne to death, it is not worth th'enioying:
Let pale-fac't feare, keepe with the meane-borne man,
And finde no harbor in a Royall heart.
Faster (thē)them Spring-time showres, comes thoght on thoght,
And not a thought, but thinkes on Dignitie.
My Brayne, more busie then the laboring Spider,
Weaues tedious Snares to trap mine Enemies.
Well Nobles, well: 'tis politikely done,
To send me packing with an Hoast of men:
I feare me, you but warme the starued Snake,
Who cherisht in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
'Twas men I lackt, and you will giue them me;
I take it kindly: yet be well assur'd,
You put sharpe Weapons in a mad-mans hands.
Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mightie Band,
I will stirre up in England some black storme,
Shall blowe ten thousand Soules to Heauen, or Hell:
And this fell Tempest shall not cease to rage,
Vntill the Golden Circuit on my Head,
Like to the glorious Sunnes transparant Beames,
Doe calme the furie of this mad-bred Flawe.
And for a minister of my intent,
I haue seduc'd a head-strong Kentishman,
Iohn Cade of Ashford,
To make Commotion, as full well he can,
Vnder the Title of Iohn Mortimer.
In Ireland haue I seene this stubborne Cade
Oppose himselfe against a Troupe of Kernes,
And fought so long, till that his thighes with Darts
Were almost like a sharpe-quill'd Porpentine:
And in the end being rescued, I haue seene
Him capre vpright, like a wilde Morisco,
Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.
Full often, like a shag-hayr'd craftie Kerne,
Hath he conuersed with the Enemie,
And vndiscouer'd, come to me againe,
And giuen me notice of their Villanies.
This Deuill here shall be my substitute;
For that Iohn Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gate, in speech he doth resemble.
By this, I shall perceiue the Commons minde,
How they affect the House and Clayme of Yorke.
Say he be taken, rackt, and tortured;
I know, no paine they can inflict vpon him,
Will make him say, I mou'd him to those Armes.
Say that he thriue, as 'tis great like he will,
Why then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reape the Haruest which that Rascall sow'd.
For Humfrey; being dead, as he shall be,
Exit.And Henry put apart: the next for me.
Now Yorke, or neuer, steele thy fearfull thoughts,
And change misdoubt to resolution;
Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art;
Resigne to death, it is not worth th'enioying:
Let pale-fac't feare, keepe with the meane-borne man,
And finde no harbor in a Royall heart.
Faster (thē)them Spring-time showres, comes thoght on thoght,
And not a thought, but thinkes on Dignitie.
My Brayne, more busie then the laboring Spider,
Weaues tedious Snares to trap mine Enemies.
Well Nobles, well: 'tis politikely done,
To send me packing with an Hoast of men:
I feare me, you but warme the starued Snake,
Who cherisht in your breasts, will sting your hearts.
'Twas men I lackt, and you will giue them me;
I take it kindly: yet be well assur'd,
You put sharpe Weapons in a mad-mans hands.
Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mightie Band,
I will stirre up in England some black storme,
Shall blowe ten thousand Soules to Heauen, or Hell:
And this fell Tempest shall not cease to rage,
Vntill the Golden Circuit on my Head,
Like to the glorious Sunnes transparant Beames,
Doe calme the furie of this mad-bred Flawe.
And for a minister of my intent,
I haue seduc'd a head-strong Kentishman,
Iohn Cade of Ashford,
To make Commotion, as full well he can,
Vnder the Title of Iohn Mortimer.
In Ireland haue I seene this stubborne Cade
Oppose himselfe against a Troupe of Kernes,
And fought so long, till that his thighes with Darts
Were almost like a sharpe-quill'd Porpentine:
And in the end being rescued, I haue seene
Him capre vpright, like a wilde Morisco,
Shaking the bloody Darts, as he his Bells.
Full often, like a shag-hayr'd craftie Kerne,
Hath he conuersed with the Enemie,
And vndiscouer'd, come to me againe,
And giuen me notice of their Villanies.
This Deuill here shall be my substitute;
For that Iohn Mortimer, which now is dead,
In face, in gate, in speech he doth resemble.
By this, I shall perceiue the Commons minde,
How they affect the House and Clayme of Yorke.
Say he be taken, rackt, and tortured;
I know, no paine they can inflict vpon him,
Will make him say, I mou'd him to those Armes.
Say that he thriue, as 'tis great like he will,
Why then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reape the Haruest which that Rascall sow'd.
For Humfrey; being dead, as he shall be,
Exit.And Henry put apart: the next for me.
Enter two or three running ouer the Stage, from the
Murther of Duke Humfrey
Murther of Duke Humfrey
1.
Runne to my Lord of Suffolke: let him know
We haue dispatcht the Duke, as he commanded.
Runne to my Lord of Suffolke: let him know
We haue dispatcht the Duke, as he commanded.
2.
Oh, that it were to doe: what haue we done?
Didst euer heare a man so penitent?
Oh, that it were to doe: what haue we done?
Didst euer heare a man so penitent?
Enter Suffolke.
1.
Here comes my Lord.
1.
Here comes my Lord.
Suff.
Now Sirs, haue you dispatcht this thing?
Now Sirs, haue you dispatcht this thing?
1.
I, my good Lord, hee's dead.
I, my good Lord, hee's dead.
Suff.
Why that's well said. Goe, get you to my House,
I will reward you for this venturous deed:
The King and all the Peeres are here at hand.
Haue you layd faire the Bed? Is all things well,
According as I gaue directions?
1.
'Tis, my good Lord.
Why that's well said. Goe, get you to my House,
I will reward you for this venturous deed:
The King and all the Peeres are here at hand.
Haue you layd faire the Bed? Is all things well,
According as I gaue directions?
1.
'Tis, my good Lord.
Suff.
Exeunt.Away, begone.
Exeunt.Away, begone.
Sound Trumpets. Enter the King, the Queene,
Cardinall, Suffolke, Somerset, with
Attendants.
Cardinall, Suffolke, Somerset, with
Attendants.
King.
Goe call our Vnckle to our presence straight:
Say, we intend to try his Grace to day,
If he be guiltie, as 'tis published.
Goe call our Vnckle to our presence straight:
Say, we intend to try his Grace to day,
If he be guiltie, as 'tis published.
Suff.
Exit.Ile call him presently, my Noble Lord.
Exit.Ile call him presently, my Noble Lord.
King.
Lords take your places: and I pray you all
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our Vnckle Gloster,
Then from true euidence, of good esteeme,
He be approu'd in practise culpable.
Lords take your places: and I pray you all
Proceed no straiter 'gainst our Vnckle Gloster,
Then from true euidence, of good esteeme,
He be approu'd in practise culpable.
Queene.
God forbid any Malice should preuayle,
That faultlesse may condemne a Noble man:
Pray God he may acquit him of suspition.
God forbid any Malice should preuayle,
That faultlesse may condemne a Noble man:
Pray God he may acquit him of suspition.
King.
I thanke thee Nell, these wordes content mee much.
Enter Suffolke.
How now? why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?
Where is our Vnckle? what's the matter, Suffolke?
I thanke thee Nell, these wordes content mee much.
Enter Suffolke.
How now? why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?
Where is our Vnckle? what's the matter, Suffolke?
Suff.
Dead in his Bed, my Lord: Gloster is dead.
Dead in his Bed, my Lord: Gloster is dead.
Queene.
Marry God forfend.
Marry God forfend.
Card.
Gods secret Iudgement: I did dreame to Night,
The Duke was dumbe, and could not speake a word.
Gods secret Iudgement: I did dreame to Night,
The Duke was dumbe, and could not speake a word.
King sounds.
Qu.
How fares my Lord? Helpe Lords, the King is dead.
How fares my Lord? Helpe Lords, the King is dead.
Som.
Rere vp his Body, wring him by the Nose.
Rere vp his Body, wring him by the Nose.
Qu.
Runne, goe, helpe, helpe: Oh Henry ope thine eyes.
Runne, goe, helpe, helpe: Oh Henry ope thine eyes.
Suff.
He doth reuiue againe, Madame be patient.
He doth reuiue againe, Madame be patient.
King.
Oh Heauenly God.
Oh Heauenly God.
Qu.
How fares my gracious Lord?
How fares my gracious Lord?
Suff.
Comfort my Soueraigne, gracious Henry comfort.
Comfort my Soueraigne, gracious Henry comfort.
King.
What, doth my Lord of Suffolke comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a Rauens Note,
Whose dismall tune bereft my Vitall powres:
And thinkes he, that the chirping of a Wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chafe away the first-conceiued sound?
Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words,
Lay not thy hands on me: forbeare I say,
Their touch affrights me as a Serpents sting.
Thou balefull Messenger, out of my fight:
Vpon thy eye-balls, murderous Tyrannie
Sits in grim Maiestie, to fright the World.
Looke not vpon me, for thine eyes are wounding;
Yet doe not goe away: come Basiliske,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death, I shall finde ioy;
In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead.
What, doth my Lord of Suffolke comfort me?
Came he right now to sing a Rauens Note,
Whose dismall tune bereft my Vitall powres:
And thinkes he, that the chirping of a Wren,
By crying comfort from a hollow breast,
Can chafe away the first-conceiued sound?
Hide not thy poyson with such sugred words,
Lay not thy hands on me: forbeare I say,
Their touch affrights me as a Serpents sting.
Thou balefull Messenger, out of my fight:
Vpon thy eye-balls, murderous Tyrannie
Sits in grim Maiestie, to fright the World.
Looke not vpon me, for thine eyes are wounding;
Yet doe not goe away: come Basiliske,
And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight:
For in the shade of death, I shall finde ioy;
In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead.
Queene.
Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus?
Although the Duke was enemie to him,
Yet he most Christian-like laments his death:
And for my selfe, Foe as he was to me,
Might liquid teares, or heart-offending groanes,
Or blood-consuming sighes recall his Life;
Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolke thus?
Although the Duke was enemie to him,
Yet he most Christian-like laments his death:
And for my selfe, Foe as he was to me,
Might liquid teares, or heart-offending groanes,
Or blood-consuming sighes recall his Life;
I
