Suf. The trait'rous Warwick with the men of Bury Set all upon me, mighty Sovereign.
Sal. Sirs, ftand apart, the King fhall know your mind. Dread Lord, the Commons fend you word by me, Unless Lord Suffolk ftrait be put to death,
Or banished fair England's territories,
They will by violence tear him from your palace,
And torture him with grievous ling'ring death.
They fay, by him the good Duke Humphry dy'd ;
They fay, in him they fear your Highness' death;
And mere instinct of love and loyalty,
(Free from a ftubborn oppofite intent,
As being thought to contradict your liking)
Makes them thus forward in his banishment.
They fay, in care of your moft Royal perfon,
That if your Highness should intend to fleep,
And charge that no man should disturb your reft,
In pain of your diflike, or pain of death;
Yet notwithstanding such a ftrange edict,
Were there a ferpent feen with forked tongue
That flily glided tow'rds your Majefty,
It were but neceffary you were wak'd;
Left being fuffer'd in that harmless flumber,
The mortal worm might make the fleep eternal.
And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,
That they will guard you whe'r will or no,
From fuch fell ferpents as falfe Suffolk is;
With whofe invenomed and fatal fting
Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,
They fay, is fhamefully bereft of life.
Commons within. An answer from the King, my Lord of Salisbury.
Suf. 'Tis like the Commons, rude unpolish'd hinds,
Could send fuch meffage to their Sovereign:
But you, my Lord, were glad to be employ'd,
To fhew how queint an orator you are.
But all the honour Salisbury hath won,
Is, that he was the lord ambassador
Sent from a fort of tinkers to the King.
Within. An anfwer from the King, or we will all break in.
K. Henry. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me,
I thank them for their tender loving care;
And had I not been cited fo by them,
Yet did I purpofe as they do entreat;
For fure my thoughts do hourly prophefie
Mifchance unto my state by Suffolk's means.
And therefore by his Majefty I fwear,
Whofe far-unworthy Deputy I am,
He fhall not breathe infection in this air
But three days longer, on the pain of death.
Q. Mar. Oh Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk!
K. Henry. Ungentle Queen, to call him gentle Suffolk.
No more, I fay: if thou doft plead for him,
Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath.
Had I but faid, I would have kept my word;
But when I fwear, it is irrevocable:
If after three days fpace thou here be'ft found,
On any ground that i am ruler of,
The world fhall not be ranfom for thy life.
Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me;
I have great matters to impart to thee.
[Exeunt King, Warwick, &c.
SCENE VIII. Manent Queen and Suffolk.
Q. Mar. Mifchance and forrow go along with you!
Heart's discontent and four affliction
Be play-fellows to keep you company!
There's two of you, the devil make a third,
And three-fold vengeance tend upon your fteps!
Suf. Ceafe, gentle Queen, these execrations,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
Q. Mar. Fie, coward woman, and foft-hearted wretch,
Haft thou not spirit to curse thine enemy?
Suf. A plague upon them; wherefore fhould I curfe them?
Would curfes kill as doth the mandrake's groan,
I would invent as bitter fearching terms,
As curft, as harsh and horrible to hear,
Deliver'd ftrongly through my fixed teeth,
With full as many figns of deadly hate,
As lean-fac'd envy in her loathsome cave.
My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words,
Mine eyes fhould fparkle like the beaten flint,
Mine hair be fixt on end like one diftract:
Ay, ev'ry joint should seem to curfe and ban.
And even now my burthen'd heart would break,
Should I not curfe them. Poifon be their drink,
Gall, worse than gall, the daintieft thing they tafte,
Their sweetest shade a grove of cypress trees,
Their chiefeft profpect murd'ring bafilifks,
Their fofteft touch as fmart as lizards ftings,
Their mufick frightful as the ferpent's hiss,
And boading screech-owls make the confort full!
All the foul terrors in dark-feated hell-
Q. Mar. Enough, fweet Suffolk, thou torment'st thy felf, And thefe dread curfes like the fun 'gainst glass,
Or like an over-charged gun, recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thy self.
Suf. You bad me ban, and will you bid me leave?
Now by the ground that I am banish'd from,
Well could I curfe away a winter's night,
Though standing naked on a mountain-top,
Where biting cold would never let grafs grow,
And think it but a minute spent in fport.
Q. Mar. Oh, let me intreat thee ceafe; give me thy hand,
That I may dew it with my mournful tears;
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woful monuments!
Oh, could this kifs be printed in thy hand,
That thou might'ft think on these lips by the feal,
Through which a thousand fighs are breath'd for thee!
So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief;
'Tis but furmis'd whilft thou art ftanding by:
As one that furfeits, thinking on a want.
I will repeal thee, or, be well affur'd,
Adventure to be banished my felf:
And banished I am, if but from thee.
Go, fpeak not to me; even now be gone
Oh, go not yet
Embrace and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves,
Ev'n thus two friends condemn'd
Losther a hundred times to part than die :
Yet now farewel, and farewel life with thee!
Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished,
Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou hence;
A wilderness is populous enough,
So Suffolk had thy heav'nly company.
For where thou art, there is the world it self,
With ev'ry fev'ral pleasure in the world;
And where thou art not, defolation.
I can no more- Live thou to joy thy life!
My felf no joy in ought but that thou liv'ft.
SCENE IX. Enter Vaux.
Q. Mar. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I pr'ythee?
Vaux. To fignifie unto his Majefty,
That Cardinal Beaufort's at the point of death:
For fuddenly a grievous fickness took him,
That makes him gafp, and ftare, and catch the air,
Blafpheming God, and curfing men on earth.
Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphry's ghoft
Were by his fide; fometimes he calls the King,
And whispers to his pillow, as to him,
The fecrets of his over-charged foul:
And I am fent to tell his Majesty,
That even now he cries aloud for him.
Q. Mar. Go tell this heavy meffage to the King,
[Exit Vaux.
Ay me! what is this world? what news are these?
But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor lofs,
Omitting Suffolk's exile, my foul's treafure?
Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,
And with the fouthern clouds contend in tears?
Theirs for the earth's increase; mine for my forrows.
Now get thee hence; the King, thou know'ft, is coming;
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.
Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot live,
And in thy fight to die, what were it else
But like a pleasant flumber in thy lap?
Here could I breathe my foul into the air,
As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe
Dying with mother's dug between its lips :
Where from thy fight I fhould be raging mad,
And cry out for thee to clofe up mine eyes,
To have thee with thy lips to ftop my mouth:
So fhouldst thou either turn my flying foul,
Or I fhould breathe it fo into thy body,
And then it liv'd in fweet Elyfium.
To die by thee were but to die in jeft,
From thee to die were torture more than death;
Oh! let me ftay, befal what may befal.
Q. Mar. Away! though parting be a corrofive,
It is applied to a deathful wound.
To France, fweet Suffolk; let me hear from thee:
For wherefoe'er thou art in this world's globe,
I'll have an Iris that fhall find thee out.
Q. Mar. And take my heart along with thee.
Suf. A jewel lock'd into the woful'ft casket
That ever did contain a thing of worth.
Even as a splitted bark, fo funder we;
This way fall I to death.
SCENE X. The Cardinal's Bed-chamber. Enter King Henry, Salisbury, and Warwick, to the Cardinal in Bed.
K. Henry. How fares my Lord? fpeak, Beaufort, to thy Sovereign.
Car. If thou beeft Death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase fuch another Island,
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
K. Henry. Ah, what a fign it is of evil life,
Where death's approach is seen so terrible!
War. Beaufort, it is thy Sovereign fpeaks to thee.
Car. Bring me unto my tryal when you will,
Dy'd he not in his bed? where fhould he die?
Can I make men live whe'r they will or no?
Oh, torture me no more, I will confefs
Alive again? then fhew me where he is :
I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him
He hath no eyes, the duft hath blinded them:
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