Peter. Peter, forsooth.

Sal. Peter! what more?

Peter. Thump.

Sal. Thump! then see thou thump thy master well. Hor. Masters, I am come hither, as it were, upon my man's instigation, to prove him a knave, and myself an honest man; *touching the duke of York, *—will take my death, I never meant him any ill, nor the king, nor the queen. * And, therefore, Peter, *have at thee with a downright blow, as Bevis of Southampton fell upon Ascapart.1

*York. Despatch;-this knave's tongue begins to double.2

* Sound trumpets, alarum to the combatants.

[Alarum.

They fight, and Peter strikes down his Master.

Hor. Hold, Peter, hold! I confess, I confess treason.

[Dies.

* York. Take away his weapon.-Fellow, *Thank God, and the good wine in thy master's way. 'Peter. O God! have I overcome mine enemies

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in this presence? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in

• right!

K. Hen. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight; For, by his death, we do perceive his guilt.3 And God, in justice, hath revealed to us The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, Which he had thought to have murdered wrongfully. Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward.

[Exeunt.

1 Warburton added this allusion to Bevis and Ascapart from the old quarto. The story of this knight and giant was familiar to our ancestors; their effigies are still preserved on the gates of Southampton.

2 This is from Holinshed, whose narrative Shakspeare has deserted in making the armorer confess treason:" His neighbors gave him wine and strong drinke in such excessive sort, that he was therewith distempered, and reeled as he went, and so was slaine without guilt. As for the false servant, he lived not long unpunished; for being convict of felonie in court of assise, he was judged to be hanged, and so was at Tiburne.” Fo. 626.

3 The real name of the combatants were John Daveys and William Catour. The death of the vanquished person was always regarded as certain evidence of his guilt.

SCENE IV. The same. A Street.

Enter GLOSTER and Servants, in mourning cloaks. *Glo. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud:

*And, after summer, evermore succeeds

* Barren winter, with his wrathful, nipping cold.
* So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
Sirs, what's o'clock?

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Serv.

Ten, my lord.

Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me, To watch the coming of my punished duchess. · Uneath1 may she endure the flinty streets,

To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.
Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
The abject people, gazing on thy face,

With envious looks, still laughing at thy shame;
That erst did follow thy proud chariot wheels,
When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.
* But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll

*

My tear-stained eyes to see her miseries.

prepare

Enter the DUCHESS of GLOSTER, in a white sheet, with papers pinned upon her back, her feet bare, and a taper burning in her hand; SIR JOHN STANLey, a Sheriff, and Officers.

Serv. So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.

Glo. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. Duch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? Now thou dost penance too. Look, how they gaze! 'See how the giddy multitude do point,

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And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!

· Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks ;

And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,

And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. Duch. Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself; For, whilst I think I am thy married wife, And thou a prince, protector of this land, • Methinks I should not thus be led along, Mailed up in shame,' with papers on my back; * And followed with a rabble, that rejoice *To see my tears, and hear my deep-fet2 groans. The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet; And, when I start, the envious people laugh, And bid me be advised how I tread.

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Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
*Trow'st thou, that e'er I'll look upon the world;
* Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
*No; dark shall be my light, and night my day;
* To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, I am duke Humphrey's wife;
And he a prince, and ruler of the land:
Yet so he ruled, and such a prince he was,
As he stood by, whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
Was made a wonder, and a pointing-stock,
To every idle, rascal follower.

But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame;
Nor stir at nothing, till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will.
For Suffolk, he that can do all in all

. With her, that hateth thee and hates us all,-
And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings;
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee.
* But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared,
*Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

* Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry; *I must offend before I be attainted.

* And had I twenty times so many foes,

* And each of them had twenty times their power, * All these could not procure me any scathe,

1 Wrapped or bundled up in disgrace; alluding to the sheet of penance Mailed, from a mail or male, a little budget.

2 Deep-fetched.

* So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.

'Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?

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Why, yet thy scandal were not wiped away,

But I in danger for the breach of law.

'Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.
I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience;
These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.

Enter a Herald.

Her. I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, holden at Bury the first of this next month. Glo. And my consent ne'er asked herein before! This is close dealing.-Well, I will be there.

[Exit Herald.

My Nell, I take my leave ;-and, master sheriff, Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. • Sher. An't please your grace, here my commission stays;

And sir John Stanley is appointed now

To take her with him to the Isle of Man.

• Glo. Must you, sir John, protect my lady here?

• Stan. So am I given in charge, may't please your

grace.

Glo. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray

You use her well. The world may laugh again;1

And I may live to do you kindness, if

You do it her. And so, sir John, farewell.

Duch. What, gone, my lord; and bid me not fare

well?

• Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. Exeunt GLOSTER and Servants. Duch. Art thou gone too? *All comfort go with

thee !

* For none abides with me. My joy is-death;

Death, at whose name I oft have been afeared,

* Because I wished this world's eternity.

Stanley, I pr'ythee, go, and take me hence;

1 i. e. the world may again look favorably on me.

'I care not whither, for I beg no favor, 'Only convey me where thou art commanded. *Stan. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man ; * There to be used according to your state.

*Duch. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach; And shall I then be used reproachfully?

* Stan. Like to a duchess, and duke Humphrey's

lady,

* According to that state you shall be used.

· Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare; 'Although thou hast been conduct1 of my shame! Sher. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me.

6

6

Duch. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharged.Come, Stanley, shall we go?

• Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this

sheet,

And go we to attire you for our journey.

• Duch. My shame will not be shifted with my

sheet;

*No, it will hang upon my richest robes,

* And show itself, attire me how I can.

*

Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury.

Enter, to the parliament, KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, and others.

'K. Hen. I muse my lord of Gloster is not come.

• "Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,

• Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.

1 For conductor.