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The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works

Page 221

by William Shakespeare


  165

  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:

  170

  A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.

  CARDINAL 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,

  175

  And the offender granted scope of speech,

  ’Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace.

  SUFFOLK Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here

  With ignominious words, though clerkly couched,

  As if she had suborned some to swear

  180

  False allegations to o’erthrow his state?

  QUEEN But I can give the loser leave to chide.

  GLOUCESTER

  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.

  185

  BUCKINGHAM

  He’ll wrest the sense and hold us here all day.

  Lord Cardinal, he is your prisoner.

  CARDINAL

  Sirs, take away the Duke and guard him sure.

  GLOUCESTER

  Ah, thus King Henry throws away his crutch

  Before his legs be firm to bear his body.

  190

  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.

  Exit Gloucester with attendants.

  KING My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best

  195

  Do, or undo, as if ourself were here.

  QUEEN What, will your highness leave the parliament?

  KING Ay, Margaret; my heart is drowned with grief,

  Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes,

  My body round engirt with misery;

  200

  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.

  205

  What louring 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

  210

  And binds the wretch and beats it when it strains,

  Bearing it to the bloody slaughterhouse,

  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,

  215

  And can do naught but wail her darling’s loss,

  Even so myself bewails good Gloucester’s case

  With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimmed eyes

  Look after him, and cannot do him good,

  So mighty are his vowed enemies.

  220

  His fortunes I will weep, and ’twixt each groan

  Say, ‘Who’s a traitor, Gloucester he is none.’

  Exit with Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick.

  QUEEN

  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 Gloucester’s show

  225

  Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile

  With sorrow snares relenting passengers,

  Or as the snake, rolled in a flowering bank,

  With shining checkered slough doth sting a child

  That for the beauty thinks it excellent.

  230

  Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I –

  And yet herein I judge mine own wit good –

  This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world,

  To rid us from the fear we have of him.

  CARDINAL That he should die is worthy policy;

  235

  But yet we want a colour for his death.

  ’Tis meet he be condemned by course of law.

  SUFFOLK 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;

  240

  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?

  SUFFOLK Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I.

  YORK [aside]

  ’Tis York that hath more reason for his death. –

  245

  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 set

  To guard the chicken from a hungry kite,

  As place Duke Humphrey for the King’s Protector?

  250

  QUEEN So the poor chicken should be sure of death.

  SUFFOLK

  Madam, ’tis true; and were’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

  255

  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.

  260

  And do not stand on quillets how to slay him;

  Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety,

  Sleeping or waking, ’tis no matter how,

  So he be dead; for that is good deceit

  Which mates him first that first intends deceit.

  265

  QUEEN Thrice-noble Suffolk, ’tis resolutely spoke.

  SUFFOLK 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,

  270

  And to preserve my sovereign from his foe –

  Say but the word, and I will be his priest.

  CARDINAL

  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,

  275

  And I’ll provide his executioner;

  I tender so the safety of my liege.

  SUFFOLK Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing.

  QUEEN And so say I.

  YORK And I: and now we three have spoke it,

  It skills not greatly who impugns our doom.

  280

  Enter a Post.

  POST Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain

  To signify 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 uncurable;

  285

  For, being green, there is great hope of help.

  CARDINAL

  A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! –

  What counsel give you in this weighty cause?

  YORK That Somerset be sent as regent thither.

  ’Tis meet that lucky ruler be employed;

  290

  Witness the
fortune he hath had in France.

  SOMERSET If York, with all his far-fet policy,

  Had been the regent there instead of me,

  He never would have stayed in France so long.

  YORK No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done.

  295

  I rather would have lost my life betimes

  Than bring a burden of dishonour home

  By staying there so long till all were lost.

  Show me one scar charactered on thy skin;

  Men’s flesh preserved so whole do seldom win.

  300

  QUEEN Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire

  If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with.

  No more, good York. Sweet Somerset, be still.

  Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there,

  Might happily have proved far worse than his.

  305

  YORK

  What, worse than naught? Nay, then a shame take all!

  SOMERSET And in the number thee, that wishest shame.

  CARDINAL My Lord of York, try what your fortune is.

  Th’uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms

  And temper clay with blood of Englishmen.

  310

  To Ireland will you lead a band of men

  Collected choicely, from each county some,

  And try your hap against the Irishmen?

  YORK I will, my lord, so please his majesty.

  SUFFOLK Why, our authority is his consent,

  315

  And what we do establish he confirms.

  Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand.

  YORK I am content. Provide me soldiers, lords,

  Whiles I take order for mine own affairs.

  SUFFOLK

  A charge, Lord York, that I will see performed.

  320

  But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey.

  CARDINAL No more of him; for I will deal with him

  That henceforth he shall trouble us no more.

  And so break off, the day is almost spent.

  [aside] Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event.

  325

  YORK My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days

  At Bristol I expect my soldiers;

  For there I’ll ship them all for Ireland.

  SUFFOLK I’ll see it truly done, my Lord of York.

  Exeunt all but York.

  YORK Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts,

  330

  And change misdoubt to resolution.

  Be that thou hop’st to be, or what thou art

  Resign to death; it is not worth th’enjoying.

  Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man

  And find no harbour in a royal heart.

  335

  Faster than springtime showers comes thought on thought,

  And not a thought but thinks on dignity.

  My brain, more busy than the labouring spider,

  Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies.

  Well, nobles, well; ’tis politicly done,

  340

  To send me packing with an host of men;

  I fear me you but warm the starved snake

  Who, cherished in your breasts, will sting your hearts.

  ’Twas men I lacked, and you will give them me;

  I take it kindly, yet be well assured

  345

  You put sharp weapons in a madman’s hands.

  Whiles I in Ireland nurse a mighty band

  I will stir up in England some black storm

  Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell;

  And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage

  350

  Until the golden circuit on my head,

  Like to the glorious sun’s transparent beams,

  Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.

  And for a minister of my intent

  I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman,

  355

  John Cade of Ashford,

  To make commotion, as full well he can,

  Under the title of John Mortimer.

  In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade

  Oppose himself against a troop of kerns,

  360

  And fought so long till that his thighs with darts

  Were almost like a sharp-quilled porpentine;

  And in the end, being rescued, I have seen

  Him caper upright like a wild Morisco,

  Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells.

  365

  Full often, like a shag-haired crafty kern,

  Hath he conversed with the enemy

  And, undiscovered, come to me again

  And given me notice of their villainies.

  This devil here shall be my substitute;

  370

  For that John Mortimer, which now is dead,

  In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble.

 

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