Humfrey, Duke of Gloucester :: :: University of Virginia Library

Queen. Suffolk.
Queen.
Oh, Suffolk; may this Morning prove auspicious!
That my fond Wishes, seconded by Power,
May lavish Honours on the Man, who merits
Higher Distinction, than England's Crown can give.

Suff.
And, may your Suffolk live to serve, to admire,
To adore, the Queen; whose Favour is my whole Ambition!

Queen.
This flattering Hope, alone, emboldens me
In all my Attempts (successfull, hitherto)
To break the Authority of this Protectour.

Suff.
Madam, ere Noon, your Wishes are accomplish'd.

Queen.
And yet,—there hangs a Cloud upon my Hopes!—
And my Heart bodes—

Suff.
Let Me partake your Fears.

Queen.
But;—wherefore should a Dream disquiet me?

Suff.
Wherefore, indeed!—Dreams, pleasing or displeasing,
Are, only, Shadows of our waking Thoughts.—
But, here comes Beaufort.

SCENE II.

Queen. Suffolk. Beaufort.
Queen.
Lord Cardinal, Good Morrow.

Beauf.
Your Majesty wears not the Smiles, this Day
Requires:—This long-expected Day.

Suff.
A Dream
Has overcast her wonted Chearfulness.

Queen.

A Dream
So very wild!—And yet, so powerfull, it wrought;
That, from my Slumbers, I awoke disorder'd.

Methought I saw a hunted Stag take Refuge
In a wide Stream;—not unlike the Thames:—
And, when I look'd again; That Stag—was Suffolk!—
Again, I slumber'd:—When another Dream
Sets Beaufort in my View;—besmear'd with Blood!—
And Warwick,—crying Murder, through the Palace!—
What I saw, after, was—embattled Armies!—
The King, dethroned!—My Self, a Wanderer!—
And York;—Yet soon, it was not York;
But, a fresh-blooming Youth, who wore the Crown!

Beauf.

This, only, shews; your Majesty is anxious
For the King's Honour, and Safety of your Friends.

I, my self, did dream, Gloucester was taken Speechless!—
Must it, therefore, be so?—Or, does it not
Proceed from the Concern of Yesterday?
When, there was Cause to dread his Power of Speech!

Queen.
Then,—let these Visions pass.—But, have you heard
Of last Night's Tumult?

Beauf.
Nothing.—I went to Rest.

Queen.
The Duke of Suffolk brought the Account, this Morning.

Suff.
Midnight Sedition!—Of which I mean to speak
In Parliament.

Beauf.
Most fortunate Event!—

Queen.
As it has prov'd.—

Beauf.
Does the King know it?

Queen.
He does: And, is determin'd.

Beauf.
But, is he ready?

Queen.
By this Time, his Robes are on.—

Beauf.
For,—if the Duke's Confinement be prolong'd,
Till the Day wears; the Commoners and Peers
Will clamour to release him, ere we can pass
A Vote to make his Office void.

Suff.
Madam,
That Vote secur'd; We have reduced your Foe.

Queen.
I ask no more.—Kind Fortune, aid us, now!—
And, think not, Gloucester, We (howe'er incens'd)
Would let Resentment loose, against thy Life.—
Be Duke of Gloucester, still!—But not Protectour!

SCENE III.

The Lord Protector's Apartment.
Warwick. Eleanor.
Elean.
All-gracious Heaven be prais'd, that I once more,
Shall see my Lord!—

Warw.
Before the Day shall close,
You, Both, shall see your Enemies, cover'd
With Confusion!—But, Madam, you have promis'd,
Not to detain him, on this important Morning.

Elean.
Mistrust me not.—My Reason shall o'er-rule
My fond Affection!

Warw.
We kept him, late, from Rest.

Elean.
Perhaps, my Lord, He is not, yet, awake:—
And, it might be too suddain a Surprise,
Were I to draw his Curtain.

Warw.
Then, let Me
Prepare him.

Elean.

Gently, Warwick, wake my Love:
And let the Musick of His Voice invite me to him.

O, from thy lonely Bed, my Gloucester, rise:
And, may We, never more, lie down, asunder!—
How have I watch'd, the live-long Night!—How, chid
The tardy Morning!—Oh, my Heart listens!—
Not, yet?—

Warw.
Distraction! Horrour! Ruin!—Murder!

Elean.
Oh, my Terrour!—What Murder; Warwick?—Where?

Warw.
There; Madam!—Horrid Murder!—

Elean.
Kill me not!—
Say!—

Warw.
Never more, shall you behold Him, living!

Elean.
Whom?—

Warw.
Gloucester; your Husband!—The Protectour!

Elean.
Say it not!—'Tis the Power of Sleep!—Let Me—

Warw.
Madam, forbear!—You must not see—

Elean.
I must!—
I will!—

Warw.
It is a Sight, will blast—

Elean.
Let go!—
He shall awake!—

[Goes in.]
Warw.

Oh, for the Voice of Thunder!
To shake this guilty Palace!—To destroy
The Murderers!—To strike the Terrour, wide!

But, see the widow'd Dutchess!—The Picture of
Heart-wringing Anguish!—O, powerfull Affliction!

That neither Tears, nor Language, give it Utterance!—

Elean.
Cold!—Quite cold!—And ghastly!—
O, welcome, Death!—

Warw.
She faints!—She dies!—What Succour?—
Afflicted Eleanor!—Live!—Live, to see
The speedy Vengeance, We exact for Gloucester!
The Woe, in Store for Margaret, Beaufort, Suffolk!

Elean.
Oh—

Warw.
Deep-sinking Sorrow!—

Elean.
Where is my Gloucester?—
O, lay me by him!—

Warw.
No:—I cannot let you—

Elean.
Must I not be allow'd to live, nor die, with him?—
Malice shall not divorce me from his Grave!

Warw.
I do beseech you, Madam, to consider—

Elean.
I do:—I know my Loss:—I feel my Affliction!—

Warw.
I feel it, too!—for You; my self; the Nation!

Elean.
Why?—Why, are there Calamities, in Life,
We cannot bear?—That tempts us—to arraign—
Yet,—will I not.—Thou righteous Power, compassionate
My Weakness!—Authour of all Being;—if Thou
Hast call'd Him, hence;—O, teach me Resignation!—
But,—if my Gloucester is bereft of Life,
Through black Conspiracy;—reveal the Murder!

Warw.
Madam, You must not, yet, be seen.—My House
Is near.—My Wife will share in your Affliction:
While I inform the King and Parliament
Of Gloucester's Fate; and, edge the Sword of Justice!

SCENE IV.

The Scene shifts back again.
Queen.
'Tis a full Parliament!—And, big with Expectation!—
And, allready, do the inquisitive Multitude
Begin to gather!—Should the Protectour's Followers
Out-number us;—Or, should they know the Summs,
We have distributed:—The King may be
Prevail'd on, to retract his Speech.—O, Henry;
That I could give thee a Portion of My Spirit!—

SCENE V.

Queen. Beaufort.
Queen.
O, Winchester!—I am perplex'd;—I fear!—

Beauf.
Madam, I hasten'd to prevent your Fears.—

Queen.
Why do you quit your Seat?—Say!—What Occasion?—
Has the King spoke?—

Beauf.
Be more compos'd.

Queen.
Resolve me!—

Beauf.
He would have spoke;—when, a surprizing Rumour
Was circled round,—of the Protectour's Death!—

Queen.
Of Gloucester's Death?—It cannot be!—And yet,
I, almost wish it may!—

Beauf.
A frequent Murmur
(As of Bees disturb'd within their Hives) rose
On a suddain!—And the deep Concern,
In all his Friends, gives seeming Credit to it.

Queen.
Some Stratagem!—But, were it true; I dread
This hasty Death!—Who knows what may be said?—

Beauf.
We may expect, our Enemies will cast out
Malicious Whispers.

Queen.
Ay, Beaufort!—And, I wish,
He had not been confin'd.

Beauf.
Thus, human Foresight
Is, ever, blind to the Decrees of Heaven!

Queen.
He is so lov'd!—so much the Worship of the People;
I apprehend a thousand Mischiefs!—

Beauf.
Faction
May rage, a While.—Let Us betray no Fear:
But, bold in Innocence, confront Detraction!

Queen.
Back, to your Seat, my Lord; and watch the Motions—
Yet, stay!—Here, comes the Duke of York.—

SCENE VI.

Queen. Beaufort. York.
Queen.
O, tell me!—
Say, noble York,—

Beauf.
Alass, my Nephew!—Is he
Departed?—

York.
Murder'd!—

Beauf.
Murder'd?—

Queen.
Heaven forbid!—
Murder'd?—By Whom?—And, in the Palace!

York.
Yes:—
Barbarously, murder'd!—Basely, in his Bed!

Beauf.
How?—By Whom?—What Assurance of the Fact?

York.
Concurring Circumstances!—

Queen.
Speak them, then!

York.
The hasty Summons of this Parliament:
The Banishment of Eleanor: His Confinement:
The Imprisoning his Servants:—

Queen.
Pardon me,
My Lord; if, in all, you urge so vehemently,
I can discern no Circumstance of Murder.

Beauf.
This is a Tale!—A Plot, to raise Rebellion!—

Queen.
Give plainer Tokens, York!—Have you examin'd
The Body?

Beauf.
Is there any Blood upon the Sheets?

Queen.
Make Proof!—What Marks of Violence appear?

York.

O, Madam; many Witnesses, with Me,
Have seen, have read, the Characters of Murder!

Where Sickness kills, oft' have I seen the Corse
Of ashy Semblance; meagre; pale; and bloodless:
The darken'd Eyes, in-sunk; the Nose, compress'd.
But, the Duke's Face is black; and full of Blood!
His Eye-Balls, farther out, than when he liv'd;
Staring, full-ghastly; like a strangled Man!
His Nostrils, stretch'd with strugling! His Mouth, a-gasp
For vital Breath! His ruffled Hair, up-rear'd!
His Hands, a-broad display'd; as One, that grasp'd,
And tugg'd for Life; and was subdued by Force!

Beauf.
Your Majesty sees, This is concerted Malice!—

Queen.
Treason, against the King!—As, who should say,
He sign'd a Warrant for his Uncle's Murder.

Beauf.
York is not ignorant, that Many die,
Without the Mercy of a timely Warning!—
Do we not, daily, petition against suddain Death?—
Or,—may not Gloucester, conscious of some Guilt,
Have taken Poison?—But; produce the Murderer!

York.
Thou may'st remember; there is a Prelate, living,
Once, placed an Ambush for his Life.—

Beauf.
'Tis false!—
I clear'd my self of that unworthy Charge,
Long ago:—When our most gracious Sovereign
(May he not rue the Day!) made Thee a Duke;
In Token of his Joy, that Beaufort did forgive
This dear, departed, Man; then, my Accuser.

SCENE VII.

Queen. Beaufort. York. Warwick.
Warw.
Why do I find you here, my Lord?—Know you not
The Protectour's Enemies?—

Queen.
But, not his Murderers!

Warw.
One, I answer for!

Queen.
Presumptuous Warwick!
More insolent, than York!

Beauf.
His Sycophant!
The Creature of his Smiles!—Now, to be tame,
Would argue Guilt.—Madam, I do pronounce
The Duke of York, a Traitour, by Descent!—

York.
There spoke the Fiend! The Father of Detraction!—

Warw.
The Murderer of Gloucester!—

Queen.
Malicious Outrage!—

Beauf.
Slight Boy!—We set, at Nought, what Thou can'st say.
But, that aspiring Duke (whom thou doest eccho)
Thinks, this a Time, to manifest his Treason.

York.
Thou common Spoiler!—Doest Thou talk of Treason?

Beauf.
The Lord Protectour, dead; My Life is sought:
That Henry (sole-surviving Lancaster)

Left destitute; the hated Name of York
May thrive,—may tyrannize, in Usurpation!

Queen.
'Tis manifest!

Warw.
How Guilt would fain evade—

Beauf.
With him do both the Nevils (profuse Warwick,
And subtle Salisbury) joyn,—

Warw.
Blood-thirsty Man!—

Queen.
Yes!—It is evident, you all conspire!—
What, else, should prompt you to be, thus, audacious?
Thus, to arraign his venerable Age?
A Bishop!—Cardinal!—Uncle to your King!

Beauf.
And, shall the Church, you wound through Me, not censure!—
O, Religion!—

Queen.
Beaufort, with Me!—
But;—see, you prove your Scandal:—Or, your Heads
Shall pay the Forfeit!

Warw.
I expect no Favour.—

SCENE VIII.

York. Warwick.
York.
Your Grief, for this ill-fated Duke, transports you
Beyond the Bounds of Prudence.

Warw.
Fear it not.—
Though, for a Vengeance, horrid as the Deed,
I could grow desperate!—Could delight to torture—

York.
What Evidence?—That You, so boldly venture
To charge the Cardinal!

Warw.
My Father bade me do it.
'Tis Beaufort's Guilt, he said:—Make haste, my Son!
Divulge it to the People!—Cry, Bloody Beaufort!—
And leave the Proof, in Parliament, to Me.

York.
Inhuman Cardinal!—

Warw.
But, see;—my Father.

SCENE IX.

York. Warwick. Salisbury.
York.
Say, Salisbury;—is it Beaufort?

Salisb.
Yes!—I shall
Produce the Two Assassins, he employ'd.

York.
Can such Impiety dwell so near the Altar!
But, Salisbury; How—

Salisb.

Deep-wounded with Remorse;
Dreading a Discovery; and, hoping Pardon;
One has, to Me, confess'd:—But, more, at better Leisure.

I must inform you, now; The King's Affliction,
Who weeps, who droops, who sickens, on his Throne;
The Indignation (mixt with general Mourning)
In all the Peers, and Commoners, of Note;
The Fury of the People, rending the Air for Vengeance;
Have strook such Terrour through the Foes of Gloucester,
That, daring not to oppose our warm Resentments,
We have, already, speeded far in Justice!

Warw.
We must have Rigour, Sir!—

Salisb.
And shall!—But, hear me.
Suffolk is sentenced into Banishment:
The Queen, to be remov'd, far distant, from the Palace:—

York.
But; that vile Winchester!—

Warw.
Mark, where he comes.

SCENE X.

York. Warwick. Salisbury. Beaufort.
Beauf.
Alas, my Lords!—Why am I, thus defamed?—
Is not my Nephew's unexpected Death
Sufficient Weight of Grief, to bow me down?
An ample Suffering, to appease all Enmity?
But you must load,—but you must persecute,
My Age, my Dignity, my sacred Office,
With Infamy so black,—Suspicion of such Guilt,
As, Heaven can testify, my Soul abhorrs!

Warw.
Nothing, thy Soul abhorrs; but Truth and Vertue!

York.
Last Night, remember, Beaufort, I foretold
Some monstrous Mischief, brooding in thy Breast!

Warw.
Did'st thou imagine, the Eye of Heaven would wink
At such a Deed!—

York.
A Crime, unparallell'd!
A Murder, that sets Nature at Defiance!

Beauf.

You are young Men; yet, Strangers to Compassion:
But, Salisbury is more weigh'd; more slow to Censure.
With Him, I may expostulate; to Him reveal
My penitent Sorrow; though late, not less sincere.

Why did I listen to the Queen and Suffolk?
Why did their specious Arguments seduce me?
Oh, that They never had confin'd my Nephew!—
Unthinking, that I was!—Not to foresee,
The Violence of their unlawfull Love
Might tempt them to conspire—

Salisb.

Go, Beaufort; go!—
Thou doest not lessen, but enhance, thy Guilt!

They were seduced by Thee: Thine is the Murder!—
And (if Thy slinty Heart can feel Compunction)
Know, Gloucester interceded for Thy Life!
Made it his last Request, to spare his Uncle;
Enforced it with such Tenderness, that We
Consented.

Beauf.
Do I not know, He was all Goodness!—
How shall I bear the Loss!—Oh, how lament
His hard, untimely, Fate!

Salisb.
Thy black Contrivance!—

Beauf.
Then, I perceive, Salisbury is bent on Mischief!

Salisb.
On Justice!—

Beauf.
I appeal thee, then!—

Salisb.
To Morrow!—

Beauf.
This very Day!—

Salisb.
The Lords have other Business,—

Beauf.
To Morrow, then!—

Salisb.
When, in the Presence of the Peers,
Thou shalt turn pale, and tremble, at the Sight—

Beauf.
Of Gloucester!—say'st Thou?

Salisb.
Of the Two bold Ruffians,—

Beauf.
Curse on thy Tongue!—Thy penetrating Thought!—

Warw.
His Guilt begins to work.—

York.
It shakes his Soul!

Beauf.
What Ruffians; Nevil!—Who?—I am ensnar'd!—
Have you procur'd false Witnesses?—Or, must you
Be allow'd a Day, to seek out Perjury?—
Daring Impiety!—Where will it end?
When holy Dignities are vilified!

Salisb.
Presuming Insolence of Rome's Authority!—
You think, that, with Impunity, You may
Offend against the Civil Power.

Beauf.
I did it not.

Salisb.
Deliberate Cruelty—

Beauf.
They disobey'd me, then.—
I said, No Violence; No Bloodshed.

Salisb.
I know it.

Beauf.
I said it not.—Thou could'st not hear me.—
But, I perceive your deep-concerted Malice:—
And, if I stir not Vengeance up;—may Heaven
Deny me Mercy, when I need it most!

SCENE XI.

York. Warwick. Salisbury.
Salisb.
A direfull Imprecation!

Warw.
Did you observe
His Reason stagger?

Salisb.
I did.

York.
That Men should dare
To do, what done, must make the Doer wretched!

Salisb.

We, yet, shall wring his Conscience; till he prays
For that sweet Mercy, he has, now, renounced!

But;—I inform'd you of the Queen, and Suffolk.—
To Eleanor, the King has sent his kind Condoleance:
Her Sentence is revok'd; and immediate Prosecution
Order'd, against her infamous Accusers.

Warw.
But,—what Redress, for suffering England?

Salisb.

York is design'd to be, what Gloucester was.

But; We must to our Seats, before They adjourn;
And move, that Beaufort's Crime may be adjudg'd, to Morrow.

SCENE XII.

Queen.

I know not what to think!—All is Confusion!—
The King detain'd; and Suffolk, so long, absent:
Duke Humfrey's suddain Death; the Confidence
Of York, and Warwick; the madding Populace;
My evil-boding Dream:—Each Circumstance
Grows black, within my Thought; and turns to Horrour!

Some One dispell my Fears!—

SCENE XIII.

Queen. Buckingham.
Queen.
O, Buckingham,
Thou comest, in Time, to save me from Distraction!

Buckin.
I come, the Witness of a Parliament,
Enrag'd!—

Buckin.
I come, the Witness of a Parliament,
Enrag'd!—

Queen.
Have they attainted him?—Is he, then,
Gone to Confinement?—That I see him not!—
Resolve me, as to Suffolk!—Oh, I know it!—
But,—if I live, They shall not have their Will!—
The King shall not be aw'd!—He shall release him.—
Fly, Buckingham:—Tell him, the Queen determines
To set him free!

Buckin.
How, alas! shall I inform you,
That on the first Alarm (ere, yet, his Exile
Was decreed)—

Queen.
His Exile?—But, he shall not go!—
Though, Twenty Times, they voted him, to Exile;
As often would I frustrate their Resolves!—

Buckin.
Madam;—dismay'd, He fled!

Queen.
How!—Fled?—Is he, then, gone?—

Perfidious Man!—Have I confided in him;
Heap'd Honours on him; studied his Promotion:—
And, would he not, a Moment, stay his Flight,
To bid Adieu!—

Buckin.
Did you but know the Whole;—
You would compassionate, not blame, the Duke!—

Queen.

I should detest him, more!—There is no Faith
In Man!—Excuse him not.—Not stay, to thank me?—
Not, once, advise with me?—Did the Wretch fear,
I would betray him?—Or, does he imagine,
I have no Power?—No Sense of Gratitude?—
No Resentment?—But; I will bring him back!—
Yes!—I will call the Traitour, home!—Reproach him,
To his Face!—Disgrace him!—Meditate his Ruin!—
Joyn with his Foes!—And, give him up, to Death!—
Of This,—assure him, when you write.

And now, my Lord, return, to assist our Friends:
And, by your firm Adherence to our Interests,
Merit the Favour, forfeited by Suffolk.

Buckin.
I could acquit him, to your Majesty;—
But that, I fear, Alas—

Queen.
Acquit him, then!

Buckin.

O, hear with Patience, what you, soon, must hear!

Dreading, the People's Rage; he strove to escape:—
But,—far, he row'd not, down the Thames; when, some
Of the distracted Multitude (vowing Revenge,
On Gloucester's Murderers) attack'd his Barge!—

Queen.
And, how has he escap'd?

Buckin.
And murder'd him!—

Queen.
Support me!—

Buckin.
Oh, call up all your Resolution!—shew
Your Fortitude!—And be not overcome!—
Or, We are lost;—Your Self is lost:—Quite ruin'd!—
Your Enemies will catch at this Advantage,
To estrange you from the King;—to take your Life!

Queen.

My Life!—It is imbitter'd!—Let them take it!—
I am, allready, lost!—Estranged from Happiness!—
Regardless of my Self; what Concern have I
For others?—Perish, who will!—Alass,
I rave!—The Sport of frantick Passion!—
Yet,—Buckingham; misconstrue not my Weakness:
It is, all Gratitude!—
To Suffolk, do I owe my Greatness!—
To Suffolk, I unbosom'd every Care!—
My Crown, without him, is a glittering Burden!

O, Dear-bought, late, Experience!—Gloucester, dead,
Is more my Foe, more powerfull, than living!

Buckin.
Suppress your Grief:—See, York and Salisbury.—Try
If, on Them you can prevail: While I
Dispose the King—

SCENE XIV.

Queen. York. Salisbury.
York.
Where is the hatefull Criminal?

Salisb.
In his Apartment;
Seiz'd with a violent, delirious, Fever.

York.
Observe the Queen.

Queen.
My Lords, I fear, I am to blame.—
Beaufort's Counsels
Have prov'd pernicious to the King.

Salisb.
And, Madam, Yours
Have done no less Disservice:—

Queen.
Through his Perswasion.—
But, I repent, that e'er I listen'd to him!—
And, if he be the guilty Man, you say,—

York.
Your Power shall not protect him.

Queen.

I protect him!—
My Power! my Lords:—If I have any Power;
I will exert it all, to make him wretched!—
Deliver him, to Infamy,—to Torture!—
May the innocent Blood of Suffolk, and of Gloucester,
Crying aloud to Heaven, afflict his Soul!
And, everlasting Misery be his Portion!

And now, my Lords;—Henceforward, shall your Counsels
Direct My Conduct, and assist the King.

York.
Our Counsels, Madam, if they may prevail,
Shall influence the King to rule, without You.

Salisb.
You meddle, over-much, in his Affairs:
And, it were happier for the King, and Nation,
Much happier for your self; would you, hereafter,
Frequent your Closet, more; the Council,—never.

Queen.
Disdainfull Men!—You slight a Friendship;
You tempt an Enmity;—discerning Neither.—
You know not Margaret!—

Salisb.
That England, ne'er, had known her!

Queen.
I will be known!—Is Fortitude, and Wisdom,
Given to Man, alone?—Prove me, in Council;
Prove me, in the Field!—In Policy, let Salisbury,
In War, let York, oppose me.—But, my Lords;
Be sure, you over-match this slighted Woman!—
Urge me to all Extremes!—Friendship and Favour,

I neither ask, nor grant.—Success is Mine;
If Courage claims Success!—Yet, if We fail;
Your Chronicles shall witness to my Fame;
Your Daughters boast, your Sons all emulate,
A Woman's Glory; and the World avow,
England, once, had a Queen, deserv'd to Reign!

SCENE XV.

Salisbury. York.
Salisb.

The daring Spirit of this Queen portends
Much Trouble to the King; and much Disquiet,
Throughout the Land!—

But; let us to the King.—By His Command,
My Son is gone, to pacify the People.

SCENE XVI.

The Lord Cardinal's Apartment.
Beaufort
; Lying on a Couch.
Why, do they lay me on a Couch of Thorns?
How should I rest!—They bid me close my Eyes:
But, through the Lids, I see a Thousand Forms;
Numberless Terrours!—I shut Both Ears: And yet,
I hear infernal Howlings!—Death, and Despair,
Have laid hold upon me.—O, miserable, that I am!—

Would I had died, as innocent, as Gloucester!—
Let me think no more.—Is there no Physician
Can cure the Mind?—Nothing, to kill Reflection?—
That I could drink Oblivion down!—O, when
Shall I have Rest!—

SCENE XVII.

Beaufort. Warwick. Eleanor.
Elean.
Why, must I see the Authour of my Woes?

Warw.
He cannot last, an Hour.—He raves on Gloucester;
And calls on You; imploring Your Forgiveness.

Elean.
O, hard Injunction!—That we must forgive
Such Injuries!—But,—How can I forgive?

Warw.
Madam, Consider his Despair!—

Elean.
My Misery, my Lord!—
Consider That!—I know, it is commanded:—
It is a Duty:—But,—it is severe!—

Warw.
See, where he lies.

Elean.
Let us retire.—He sleeps.—

Beauf.
Who bids me sleep?—It is not safe to sleep!—
Gloucester should not have slept,—Who are you? Whence?—
Send away that Woman.—Give me my Crown:
My Crown and Crosier!—What has the Parliament
To do with Me?—

Elean.
My Lord of Winchester,—

Beauf.
Why doest Thou haunt me?

Elean.
Though You have made Me wretched; yet, my Lord,
I will endeavour—

Beauf.
How camest Thou hither?—
Nay, then, thou art a Sorceress, indeed!
Can'st travel o'er the pathless Sea; can'st fly
In Air!—Thou hast bewitch'd my Senses.—Go!—.

Warw.
How wild his Looks!—Approach him not.

Beauf.
Stand off!—Let Nothing, living, come a-near me!—
I kill, by Night!—Alas, my feeble Age
Cannot support it, longer!—

Elean.
O, spare him, yet, a while!—

Warw.
His Breath grows short.—

SCENE XVIII.

Beaufort. Warwick. Eleanor. Salisbury. York.
Salisb.
How fares the Cardinal?

Warw.
As one, just launching
Into Eternity!—

York.
Behold him, gasping!

Beauf.
Why do you stifle me?—I have been at Shrift.—
My Soul is white, as Snow!—What needed we
Have purchas'd Votes?—Was not the Murder cheaper?

Salisb.
My Lord, the King has sent us—

Beauf.
King of Terrours!—
If thou beest Death, I'll give thee England's Treasure;
So thou wilt let me live, and feel no Pain.

York.
The King my Lord, your royal Nephew, sends—

Beauf.
Bring me, then, to my Trial, when you will.—
Died he not in his Bed?—Where should he die?—
Can I make Men live, whether they will, or no?—
Alive again?—Then, shew me, where he is!—
Combe down his Hair.—Look; look!—It stands upright:
Like Lime-Twigs, set to catch my winged Soul!

Elean.
Pray; pray, for Mercy!—

Beauf.
Oh, my Niece;
The Gates of Heaven are shut!—O, save me; save me!
I shudder, on the Margin of the Gulph!—
Headlong, I rush!—I fall; deep, deep, I plunge:
I fathom Misery; the Depths of endless Woe!

Elean.
O, Thou eternal Mover of the Heavens;
Look, with a gentle Eye, upon this Wretch!—
Oh, beat away the busy, medling Fiend,
That lays strong Siege to his departing Soul;
And, from his Bosome, purge this black Despair!

Warw.
See, how the Pangs of Death work, in his Features!

York.
Disturb him not.—Let him pass, peaceably.

Elean.
Lord Cardinal;—If thou think'st on Heaven's Bliss;
Hold up thy Hand:—Make Signal of thy Hope.—
He dies;—and makes No Sign!—

Warw.
O, Gloucester;—While Thy Vertues are remember'd;
So long, shall Beaufort's Infamy endure!

Elean.
The tenderest Husband!—The most inhuman Uncle!

Salisb.
The Best, and Worst, of Men!

Elean.
Alas, my Lords;
How, shall I bear to live!—

York.
Be comforted.—
With You, the Nation mourns: And Henry's Sorrows

Are equall to your Own.—Number'd among the Blest,
Gloucester partakes of everlasting Rest.—
Let high-presuming Men with Dread attend,
Divinely warn'd, to Beaufort's direfull End!—
Though bold Offenders human Laws defy;
They draw down heavier Weight of Vengeance, from on High!

End of the Fifth ACT.