 | Henry the Sixth, The First part |  |
The Scene is drawn, the Duke of Glocester sitting and reading in his Night-Gown.
Card.
Ha! he's awake, and up; you two go hold him
(Softly to the Mur.
And get him down, whilst the other strangles him.
Gl.
Ha! Who is that opens the door?
2. Mur.
The Cardinal's
Servants, an't please your Grace.
Gl.
And what's your business?
1. Mur.
The Cardinal saw your Light burning so late,
And was afraid your Grace was indispos'd;
And sent to know if your Grace wanted any thing,
And gave us strict command to wait upon you.
Gl.
He is grown wondrous kind; I am afraid
He's ill, for this is not his natural temper.
He guesses right of me, I'm ill indeed;
A heaviness like Death oppresses me.
I cannot get my thoughts out of a Grave:
I fear not Death it self, why shou'd a dream
And empty shadow of it then oppress me?
Card.
So, get behind him now whilst he is musing.
Aside.
Gl.
If wicked men be digging now my Grave,
And these cold Terrors be fore-running damps,
Oh! Heaven prepare me for it.
3. Mur.
How he prays!
(Aside.
2. Mur.
What if he does? What are a Hereticks prayers?
(Aside.
Gl.
Let all my sins drop from me in these Tears.
3. Mur.
How penitent he is!—my Soul relents,
The Devil take this cursed want of Money.
(Aside.
Gl.
If e're my Person, Greatness, or Authority,
Did injure any one, forgive the fault,
And in the bosome of the injur'd person,
Pour down a thousand blessings.—Above all things
Preserve the King from all his Enemies.
If I by Wickedness and Falshood perish,
Oh! give my bloody Enemies repentance,
And let my Death be an occasion
Of good to them, but ruine to their wickedness.
3. Mur.
Heark, how he prays for us that are his murderers!
(Aside
1. Mur.
What if he does? he is a Heretick.
His Prayers are Curses, we are the worse for e'm.
(Aside.
Card.
Why don't you do your work?
(Aside.
3. Mur.
We will; we will.
(Aside.
Gl.
So shall I do more good in Death than Life,
And by my innocent Death procure a Blessing
To my good King, my Country, all my Enemies.
They lay bold on the Duke and strangle him.
Card.
So! Is he dead yet?
2. Mur.
Yes! he does not stir.
Enter the Duke of Suffolk.
Suff.
Ho! What's the News?
Card.
The deed is done, my Lord.
Suff.
Have you dispatch'd the thing?
1. Mur.
We have done his business.
Suff.
Thou art a gallant Rogue! there's Gold for thee.
And for you all.
Card.
A Rogue, my Lord, you wrong him;
He is a Saint, and so are they all.
3. Mur.
A Saint:
(Aside.
Devil take such Saints.
I wou'd this deed were to be done again,
My Family shou'd starve e're I wou'd do it.
Card.
I hear a noise without.
3. Mur.
A noise without!
I'me sure I hear a cursed noise within me,
A bawling Conscience.
Card.
Place the Body some way
As may give least suspition, and be gone,
And come another time for your rewards.
They place the Body in a Chair, shut the Scene,—and Ex.
Enter the King and Queen, Attendants.
Qu.
What brings your Majesty abroad so early?
You do not use to finish your Devotion
So soon as this.
King.
Oh! Love, I am not well,
My Uncle is always walking in my mind,
And shakes the melancholy Room with fear;
Methinks he tells me I have not done well,
To give him up to his too cruel Enemies,
To men who are not such as they shou'd be.
Qu.
Why, Sir, have you so great mistrust of e'm?
King.
I wish I had no cause; I've sent Commands to e'm,
To bring my Uncle to me presently.
Enter the Cardinal.
Had you my message, my Lord Cardinal?
Card.
Yes, Royal Sir, the Duke of Suffolk instantly
Will bring the Duke of Glocester; I have lodg'd
My noble Prisoner but in the next Rooms.
King.
Methinks he shou'd not be the man you make him.
Card.
Your Majesty has your eyes always fixt
On shining Heaven, that when you look below,
The World is in a mist and dark to you.
Enter Suffolk.
King.
How now? Why look'st thou pale? why do'st thou shake?
Where is my Uncle? What's the matter? Speak.
Suff.
The Duke is dead.
Card.
How! Dead?
Suff.
Dead in his Chair.
Qu.
Oh! Heaven forbid!
Suff.
'Tis true.
Card.
Heaven's secret Judgments.
I fear'd some dreadful judgment wou'd o'retake him.
The King Swoons.
Qu.
How is my Lord? Help, help, the King is dying.
Suff.
Rear up his Body, fetch some Water quickly.
Qu.
Oh! Help, help, help.
Suff.
See, he revives again.
Madam, be comforted.
Qu.
How does my Lord?
King.
Oh! heavenly God!—
Sighs deeply.
Suff.
Take comfort, Gracious Sir.
King.
Ah! Wo is me for Glocester! wretched man!
Qu.
Is all your comfort shut up in his Tomb?
And can you find no joy in me at all?
Why do you turn away and hide your Face?
I am no loathsome Leaper, look on me.
Ah! wo is me, more wretched than he is.
Did I for this expose my self to Winds,
And Rocks, and Seas, and twice was almost wrack'd,
And twice was driven back, as if the Winds
Forewarn'd me landing on this unkind Shore!
The vaulting Sea danc'd with me to and fro,
As it were loth to bring me to this Coast.
The Rocks cover'd in the Waves, and hid themselves,
As shaming to owe kindred to an Island,
Whose cruel King wou'd thus reward my Love.
Ah! see if he will speak to me, or look on me!
How hateful am I grown! Ah! wretched me!
Card.
I see the King loves this dead Traytor better
Than all his living Friends! Farewel,—I'me sorry Sir,
To see you hate your Friends, and love your Enemies.
Ex.
King.
Where is my dead Friend? I'le see him—lead me to him.
Suff.
In the next Room, Sir: Ho, open these doors.
Card.
Ha! he's awake, and up; you two go hold him
(Softly to the Mur.
And get him down, whilst the other strangles him.
Gl.
Ha! Who is that opens the door?
2. Mur.
The Cardinal's
Servants, an't please your Grace.
Gl.
And what's your business?
1. Mur.
The Cardinal saw your Light burning so late,
And was afraid your Grace was indispos'd;
And sent to know if your Grace wanted any thing,
And gave us strict command to wait upon you.
Gl.
He is grown wondrous kind; I am afraid
He's ill, for this is not his natural temper.
He guesses right of me, I'm ill indeed;
A heaviness like Death oppresses me.
I cannot get my thoughts out of a Grave:
I fear not Death it self, why shou'd a dream
And empty shadow of it then oppress me?
Card.
So, get behind him now whilst he is musing.
Aside.
Gl.
If wicked men be digging now my Grave,
And these cold Terrors be fore-running damps,
Oh! Heaven prepare me for it.
3. Mur.
How he prays!
(Aside.
2. Mur.
What if he does? What are a Hereticks prayers?
(Aside.
Gl.
Let all my sins drop from me in these Tears.
3. Mur.
How penitent he is!—my Soul relents,
The Devil take this cursed want of Money.
(Aside.
Gl.
If e're my Person, Greatness, or Authority,
55
And in the bosome of the injur'd person,
Pour down a thousand blessings.—Above all things
Preserve the King from all his Enemies.
If I by Wickedness and Falshood perish,
Oh! give my bloody Enemies repentance,
And let my Death be an occasion
Of good to them, but ruine to their wickedness.
3. Mur.
Heark, how he prays for us that are his murderers!
(Aside
1. Mur.
What if he does? he is a Heretick.
His Prayers are Curses, we are the worse for e'm.
(Aside.
Card.
Why don't you do your work?
(Aside.
3. Mur.
We will; we will.
(Aside.
Gl.
So shall I do more good in Death than Life,
And by my innocent Death procure a Blessing
To my good King, my Country, all my Enemies.
They lay bold on the Duke and strangle him.
Card.
So! Is he dead yet?
2. Mur.
Yes! he does not stir.
Enter the Duke of Suffolk.
Suff.
Ho! What's the News?
Card.
The deed is done, my Lord.
Suff.
Have you dispatch'd the thing?
1. Mur.
We have done his business.
Suff.
Thou art a gallant Rogue! there's Gold for thee.
And for you all.
Card.
A Rogue, my Lord, you wrong him;
He is a Saint, and so are they all.
3. Mur.
A Saint:
(Aside.
Devil take such Saints.
I wou'd this deed were to be done again,
My Family shou'd starve e're I wou'd do it.
Card.
I hear a noise without.
3. Mur.
A noise without!
I'me sure I hear a cursed noise within me,
A bawling Conscience.
Card.
Place the Body some way
As may give least suspition, and be gone,
And come another time for your rewards.
They place the Body in a Chair, shut the Scene,—and Ex.
56
Qu.
What brings your Majesty abroad so early?
You do not use to finish your Devotion
So soon as this.
King.
Oh! Love, I am not well,
My Uncle is always walking in my mind,
And shakes the melancholy Room with fear;
Methinks he tells me I have not done well,
To give him up to his too cruel Enemies,
To men who are not such as they shou'd be.
Qu.
Why, Sir, have you so great mistrust of e'm?
King.
I wish I had no cause; I've sent Commands to e'm,
To bring my Uncle to me presently.
Enter the Cardinal.
Had you my message, my Lord Cardinal?
Card.
Yes, Royal Sir, the Duke of Suffolk instantly
Will bring the Duke of Glocester; I have lodg'd
My noble Prisoner but in the next Rooms.
King.
Methinks he shou'd not be the man you make him.
Card.
Your Majesty has your eyes always fixt
On shining Heaven, that when you look below,
The World is in a mist and dark to you.
Enter Suffolk.
King.
How now? Why look'st thou pale? why do'st thou shake?
Where is my Uncle? What's the matter? Speak.
Suff.
The Duke is dead.
Card.
How! Dead?
Suff.
Dead in his Chair.
Qu.
Oh! Heaven forbid!
Suff.
'Tis true.
Card.
Heaven's secret Judgments.
I fear'd some dreadful judgment wou'd o'retake him.
The King Swoons.
Qu.
How is my Lord? Help, help, the King is dying.
Suff.
Rear up his Body, fetch some Water quickly.
Qu.
Oh! Help, help, help.
Suff.
See, he revives again.
Madam, be comforted.
Qu.
How does my Lord?
57
Oh! heavenly God!—
Sighs deeply.
Suff.
Take comfort, Gracious Sir.
King.
Ah! Wo is me for Glocester! wretched man!
Qu.
Is all your comfort shut up in his Tomb?
And can you find no joy in me at all?
Why do you turn away and hide your Face?
I am no loathsome Leaper, look on me.
Ah! wo is me, more wretched than he is.
Did I for this expose my self to Winds,
And Rocks, and Seas, and twice was almost wrack'd,
And twice was driven back, as if the Winds
Forewarn'd me landing on this unkind Shore!
The vaulting Sea danc'd with me to and fro,
As it were loth to bring me to this Coast.
The Rocks cover'd in the Waves, and hid themselves,
As shaming to owe kindred to an Island,
Whose cruel King wou'd thus reward my Love.
Ah! see if he will speak to me, or look on me!
How hateful am I grown! Ah! wretched me!
Card.
I see the King loves this dead Traytor better
Than all his living Friends! Farewel,—I'me sorry Sir,
To see you hate your Friends, and love your Enemies.
Ex.
King.
Where is my dead Friend? I'le see him—lead me to him.
Suff.
In the next Room, Sir: Ho, open these doors.
| Henry the Sixth, The First part | |