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done! York. Cold news for me; for I had hope of France, As firmly as I hope for fertile England. Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, And caterpillars eat my leaves away: But I will remedy this gear ere long, Or sell my title for a glorious grave.
Suf. Nay, Gloster, know, that thou art come too soon,
Glo. Well, Suffolk, yet thou shalt not see me blush, Nor change my countenance for this arrest; A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. The purest spring is not so free from mud, As I am clear from treason to my sovereign : Who can accuse me? wherein am I guilty ? York. 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of
- France, And, being protector, staied the soldiers' pay; By means wherof, his highness hath lost France.
Glo. Is it but thought so? What are they that think it?
Car. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much.
York. In your protectorship, you did devise
Glo. Why, 'tis well known, that whiles I was protector, Pity was all the fault that was in me; For I should melt at an offender's tears, And lowly words were ransom for their fault. Unless it were a bloody murderer, Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers, I never gave them cóndign punishment: Murder, indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd Above the felon, or what trespass else.
Suf. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd : But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. I do arrest you in his highness' name; And here commit you to my lord cardinal To keep, until your further time of trial,
K. Hen. My lord of Gloster, 'tis my special hope, That you will clear yourself from all suspects; My conscience tells me, you are innocent.
Glo. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous ! Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand; Foul subornation is predominant, And equity exíld your highness' 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 suspect no peril, Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; Sharp Buckingham unburdens with his tongue The envious load that lies upon his heart; And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, By false accuse doth level at my life.And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, Causeless have laid disgraces on any head; And, with your best endeavour, have stirred up My liefest liege to be mine enemy : Ay, all of you have laid your heads together, Myself had notice of your conventicles, I shall not want false witness to condemn me, Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; The ancient proverb will be well affected, A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.
Car. My liege, his railing is intolerable:
Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here.
Q. Mar. But I can give the loser leave to chide,
Glo. 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.
Buck. He'll wrest the sense, and hold us here all day: Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner.
Car. Sirs, taķe away the duke, and guard him sure.
Glo. Ah, thus king Henry throws away his crutch,
[Exeunt Attendants, with GLOSTER.
ment! K. Hen. Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown’d with
grief, Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes; My body round engirt with misery;
For what's more miserable than discontent-
[Erit. Q. Mar. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's