SCENE II-Bury. A Room in the Palace. Enter certain Murderers, hastily. 1 Mur. Run to my lord of Suffolk; let him know, We have despatch'd the duke, as he commanded. 2 Mur. O, that it were to do!-What have we done? Didst ever here a man so penitent? Enter SUFFOLK. 1 Mur. Here comes my lord. Suf. Now, sirs, have you Despatch'd this thing? 1 Mur. Ay, my good lord, he's dead. Suf. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house; I will reward you for this venturous deed. The king and all the peers are here at hand: Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well, 1 Mur. Tis, my good lord. Suf. Away, be gone! [Exeunt Murderers. Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BeauFORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and Others. K. Hen. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight: Say, we intend to try his grace to-day, If he be guilty, as 'tis published. Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit. K. Hen. Lords, take your places;—And, I pray you all, Froceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Than from true evidence, of good esteem, Q. Mar. God forbid any malice should prevail, Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion! K. Hen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words content me much. Re-enter SUFfolk. How now? why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou? Car. God's secret judgment:-I did dream to-night, The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. [The King swoons. Q. Mar. How fares my lord?—Help, lords! the king is dead. Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose. eyes! Suf. He doth revive again ;—Madam, be patient. Q. Mar. How fares my gracious lord? Suf. Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort! K. Hen. What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to sing a raven's note, Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers; And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breast, Can chase away the first-conceived sound? Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words. VOL. VIII. Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say; In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead. Q. Mar. Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk thus? Although the duke was enemy to him, Yet he, most Christian-like, laments his death: I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, What know I how the world may deem of me? So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded, K. Hen. Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man! 1 Is all thy comfort shut in Gloster's tomb? And make my image but an alehouse sign. Yet Eolus would not be a murderer, But left that hateful office unto thee: The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me; Knowing, that thou would'st have me drown'd on shore, As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs, And threw it towards thy land;-the sea receiv'd it; And even with this, I lost fair England's view, To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did, When he to madding Dido, would unfold His father's acts, commenc'd in burning Troy? Am I not witch'd like her? or thou not false like him? Ah me, I can no more! Die, Margaret! For Henry weeps, that thou dost live so long. Noise within. Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY. The Commons press to the door, War. It is reported, mighty sovereign, That good duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd K. Hen. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true: But how he died, God knows, not Henry: Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, War. That I shall do, my liege:-Stay, Salisbury, [WARWICK goes into an inner Room, and SALISBURY retires. K. Hen. Q thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts; |