No, it will hang upon my richest robes,
And fhew itfelf, attire me how I can,
Go, lead the way, I long to fee my prifon. [Exeunt.
Enter King Henry, Queen, Cardinal, Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick, to the Parliament.
Mufe, my Lord of Glo'fier is not come : 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmoft man, Whate'er occafion keeps him from us now.
Q. Mar. Can you not fee? or will you not observe The ftrangeness of his alter'd countenance ? With what a majefty he bears himself,
How infolent of late he is become,
How peremptory and unlike himself!
We know the time, fince 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 admir'd him for fubmiffion.
But meet him now, and be it in the morn,
When ev'ry one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow and fhews an angry eye;
And paffeth by with ftiff unbowed knee,
Difdaining duty that to us belongs.
Small curs are not regarded, when they grin ;
But great men tremble, when the lion roars;
And Humphry is no little man in England.
First note, that he is near you in descent ;
And, fhould you fall, he is the next will mount.
Me feemeth then, it is no policy,
(Refpecting what a ranc'rous mind he bears,,
And his advantage fallowing your deceate)
That he should come about your royal perfon,,
Or be admitted to your Highnefs' council..
By flatt'ry hath he won the common hearts :
And when he'll please to make commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.
Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are fhallow-rooted,
Suffer them now, and they'll o'er-grow the garden;
And choak the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care, I bear unto my Lord,
Made me collect thefe dangers in the Duke.
If it be fond, call it a woman's fear:
Which fear, if better reasons can fupplant,
I will fubfcribe, and fay, I wrong'd the Duke.
My Lords of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
Reprove my allegation, if you can ;
Or elfe conclude my words effectual.
Suf. Well hath your Highnefs feen into this Duke. And had I first been put to speak my mind,
I think, I should have told your Grace's tale.
The Dutchefs, by his fubornation,
Upon my life, began her devilish practices;
Or if he were not privy to thofe faults,
Yet, by reputing of his high defcent,
As next the King he was fucceffive heir,
And fuch high vaunts of his nobility,
Did inftigate the beldam brain-fick Dutchefs
By wicked means to frame our Sov'reign's fall.
Smooth runs the water, where the brook is deep;
And in his fimple fhew he harbours treafon.
The fox barks not, when he would fteal the lamb.
No, no, my Sovereign; Glo'fter is a man
Unfounded yet, and full of deep deceit.
Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law,
Devife ftrange deaths for fmall offences done?
York. And did he not, in his Protectorship,
Levy great fums of money through the realm
For foldiers pay in France, and never fent it?
By means whereof, the towns each day revolted.
Buck. Tut, these are petty faults, to faults unknown;
Which time will bring to light in fmooth Duke Humphry.
K. Henry. My Lords, at once; the care you have of us,
To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot,
la worthy praise; but shall I speak my confcience?
Our kinsman Glo'fter is as innocent
From meaning treafon to our royal perfon,
As is the fucking lamb or harmless dove:
The Duke is virtuous, mild, and too well given
To dream on evil, or to work my downfall. [affiance?
Q. Mar. Ah! what's more dang'rous than this fond
Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrow'd,
For he's difpofed as the hateful raven.
Is he a lamb? his fkin is, furely, lent him,
For he's inclin'd as is the ravenous wolf.
Who cannot fteal a fhape, that means deceit ?
Take heed, my Lord; the welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting fhort that fraudful man.
Enter Somerfet.
S. All health unto my gracious Sovereign!
K. Henry. Welcome, Lord Somerfet; what news from
Som. That all your int'reft in those territories [France?
Is utterly bereft you; all is loft.
[be done!
K. Henry. Cold news, Lord Somerfet ; but God's will
York. Cold news for me: for I had hope of France,
As firmly as I hope of fertile England.
Thus are my bloffoms blafted in the bad,
And caterpillars eat my leaves away.
But I will remedy this gear ere long,
Or fell my title for a glorious grave.
Glo. All happiness unto my Lord the King! Pardon, my Liege, that I have ftaid fo long.
Suf. Nay, Glofter, know, that thou art come too foon, Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art;
I do arreft thee of high treafon here.
Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not fee me blufh, Nor change my countenance for this arreft:
A heart unfpotted is not eafily daunted.
The pureft fpring is not fo free from mud,
As I am clear from treafon to my Sovereign.
Who can accufe me? wherein am I guilty? [France;
York. "Tis thought, my Lord, that you took bribes of
And, being Protector, flaid the foldiers pay;
By means whereof his Highness hath loft France.
Glo. Is it but thought fo? what are they, that think it? I never robb'd the foldiers of their pay,
Nor ever had one penny bribe from France.
So help me God! as I have watch'd the night,
Ay, night by night, in ftudying good for England.
That doit that e'er I wrefted from the King,
Or any groat I hoarded to my use,
Be brought againit me at my tryal day.
No; many a pound of my own proper store,
Because I would not tax the needy commons,
Have I dif-purfed to the garrifons,
And never afk'd for reftitution.
Car. It ferves you well, my Lord, to fay fo much. Glo. I fay no more than truth, fo help me God; York. In your Protectorfhip you did devife Strange tortures for offenders, never heard of; That England was defam'd by tyranny.
Glo. Why, 'tis well known, that, whiles I was Protector,
Pity was all the fault that was in me;
For I fhould melt at an offender's tears;
And lowly words were ranfom for their fault:
Unless it were a bloody murderer,
Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor paffengers,.
I never gave them condign punishment.
Murder, indeed, that bloody fin, I tortur'd
Above the felon, or what trefpafs elfe.
Suf. My Lord, thefe faults are easy, quickly answer'd: But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself.
I do arreft you in his Highnefs' name,
And here commit you to my Lord Cardinal
To keep, until your further time of tryal.
K. Henry. My Lord of Glo'fter, 'tis my fpecial hope,
That you will clear yourself from all fulpicion;
My confcience tells me, you are innocent.
Glo. Ah, gracious Lord, thefe days are dangerous Virtue is choak'd with foul ambition,`
And charity chas'd hence by rancor's hand;
Foul fubornation is predominant,
And equity exil'd your Highnefs' 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 fufpect no peril,
Will not conclude their plotted tragedy.
Beauford's red fparkling eyes blab his heart's malice,
And Suffolk's cloudy brow his ftormed hate;
Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue
The envious load, that lies upon his heart:
And dogged York, that reaches at the moon,
Whofe over-weening arm I have pluck'd back,
By falfe accufe doth level at my life.
And you, my fovereign Lady, with the reft,
Caufelefs have laid difgraces on my head;
And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up
My liefeft Liege to be mine enemy:
Ay, all of you have laid your heads together;
(Myfelf had notice of your conventicles)
And all to make away my guiltless life.
I shall not want falfe witness to condemn me,
Nor ftore of treafons to augment my guilt:
The ancient proverb will be well effected,
Aftaff is quickly found to beat a dog.
Car. My Liege, his railing is intolerable.
If thofe, that care to keep your royal perfon
From treafon's fecret knife and traitor's rage,
Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at,
And the offender granted fcope of speech,
"Twill make them cool in zeal unto your Grace.
Suf. Hath he not twit our fovereign Lady here
With ignominious words, though clarkly coucht?
As if the had fuborned fome to swear
Falfe allegations, to o'erthrow his state.
Q. Mar. But I can give the lofer leave to chide. Glo. Far truer fpoke, than meant; I lofe, indeed; Befhrew the winners, for they play'd me false; And well fuch lofers may have leave to fpeak.
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