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Thou baleful messenger, out of my fight!
Q. Mar. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus?
K. Henry. Ah, woe is me for Gloʻster, wretched man!
Q. Mar. Be woe" for me, more wretched than he is! What, dost thou turn away and hide thy face? I am no loathsome leper, look on me. What, art thou like the adder waxen deaf? Be pois’nous too, and kill thy forlorn Queen. Is all thy comfort shut in Gloster's tomb? Why then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy. Erect his statue, and do worship to it, And make my image but an ale-house sign. Was I for this nigh wreckt upon the sea, And twice by adverse winds from England's bank Drove back again unto my native clime ? What boaded this? but well fore-warning winds
Did seem to say, seek not a scorpion's nest, Nor set thy footing on this unkind foar. What did I then, but curse the gentle gusts, And ? 'him that loos'd them from their brazen caves, And bid them blow towards England's blessed shoar, Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? Yet Æolus would not be a murtherer, He left that hateful office unto thee. a The splitting rocks cow'r'd in the sinking fands, And would not dash me with their ragged sides ; Because thy finty heart, more hard than they, Might in thy Palace perilh Margaret. As far as I could ken the chalky cliffs, When from thy shoar the tempest beat us back, I stood upon the hatches in the storm ; And when the dusky sky began to rob My earnest-gaping sight of the land's view, I took a costly jewel from my neck, (A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,) And threw it tow'rds thy land ; the sea receiv'd it, And so I wish'd thy body might my heart. And ev'n with this I lost fair England's view, And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart, And call’d them blind and dusky spectacles, : For losing ken of Albion's wished coast. How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue (The agent of thy foul inconftancy) To fit and 3 'witch.me, as Ascanius did, When he to madding Dido would unfold His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy! Am I not witcht like her? 4 'art' thou not falle like him? Ah me, I can no more: die, Margaret! For Henry weeps that thou didst live so long.
Noise (a) -- Uffice unto thee. The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me, Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on shoar With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness. The splitting rocks &c.
3 watch ... old odit. Theob. emend.
Noise within. Enter Warwick, Salisbury, and many
War. It is reported, mighty Sovereign,
K. Henry. That he is dead, good Warrick, 'tis too true;
War. That I shall do, my Liege: stay, Salisbury,
K.Henry.Othou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts!
[Bed with Gloucester's body put forth.
War. Come hither, gracious Sovereign, view this body.
K. Henry. That is to see how deep my grave is made:
War. As furely as my soul intends to live
To free us from his father's wrathful curse,
Suf. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue!
War. See how the blood is settled in his face. Oft have I seen a timely parted ghost Of ashy semblance, meager, pale, and s'blood-left,' Being all descended to the lab'ring heart, Who in the conflict that it holds with death, Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy, Which with the heart there cools, and ne'er returneth To blush and beautify the cheek again. But see, his face is black and full of blood, His eye-balls further out than when he liv'd, Staring full ghastly, like a strangled man; : His hair up-rear'd, his nostrils ítretch'd with struggling, His hands abroad display'd, as one that graspt And tugg’d for life, and was by strength subdu’d. Look on the sheets ; his hair, you see, is sticking; His well proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,, Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodg’d; It cannot be but he was murther's here: The least of all these signs were probable.
Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the Duke to death? My self and Beaufort had him in protection, And we, I hope, Sirs, are no murtherers.
War. But both of you had vow'd Duke Humphry's death, And you forsooth had the good Duke to keep: 'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend, And 'tis well seen he found an enemy.
Q. Mar. Then you belike suspect these Noblemen, As guilty of Duke Humphry's timeless death.
War. 'Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh, And fees fast by a butcher with an ax, But will suspect 'twas he that made the Naughter? Who finds the partridge in the puttock’s nest,
But 5 bloodless,
But may imagine how the bird was dead,
Q. Mar. Are you the butcher, Suffolk ? where's the knife' Is Beaufort term’d a kite? where are his talons ?
Suf. I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men,
War. What dares notWarwick, if false Suffolk dare him?
Q. Mar. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,
War. Madam, be still; with rev’rence may I say;
Suf. Blunt-witted Lord, ignoble in demeanour,
War. But that the guilt of murther bucklers thee,
Suf. Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,