York. That Somerset be fent a regent thither: 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd: Witness the fortune he hath had in France. Som. If York, with all his far-fetch'd policy, Q. Mar. Nay, then this fpark will prove a raging fire, York. What, worse than nought? nay, then a shame take all! Som. And, in the number, thee that witheft shame! York. I will, my Lord, fo please his Majesty. York. I am content: provide me foldiers, Lords, Suf. A charge, Lord York, that I will fee perform'd: But now return we to the falfe Duke Humphry. Car. No more of him: for I will deal with him, That henceforth he fhall trouble us no more: And fo break off: the day is almost spent : Lord Suffolk, you and I muft talk of that event. York. My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days At Bristol I expect my foldiers; For For there I'll ship them all for Ireland. Suf. I'll fee it truly done, my Lord of York. [Exeunt. Manet York. York. Now, York, or never, fteel thy fearful thoughts, And change misdoubt to refolution : Be that thou hop'it to be, or what thou art Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man, [thought, Fafter than fpring-time fhow'rs, comes thought on My brain, more busy than the lab'ring fpider, You put fharp weapons in a mad-man's hands. I have feduc'd a headstrong Kentish man, To make commotion, as full well he can, In Ireland have I feen this ftubborn Cade Oppofe himself against à troop of Kerns; And fought fo long, till that his thighs with darts Full Full often, like a fhag-hair'd crafty Kern, SCENE, an Apartment in the Palace. [Exit. Enter two or three, running over the Stage, from the murder of Duke Humphry. I. R UN to my Lord of Suffolk; let him know, We have difpatch'd the Duke, as he commanded. 2. Oh, that it were to do! what have we done? Didst ever hear a man fo penitent? Enter Suffolk. 1. Here comes my Lord. Suf. Now, Sirs, have you difpatch'd this thing? 1. Ay, my good Lord, he's dead. Suf. Why, that's well faid. Go, get you to my houfe; I will reward you for this vent'rous deed: The King and all the Peers are here at hand.. Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well, According as I gave directions? 1. Yes, my good Lord. Suf. Away, be gone. [Exeunt Murderers. Enter Enter King Henry, the Queen, Cardinal, Somerfet, with Attendants. K. Henry. Go, call our uncle to our prefence ftrait : Say, we intend to try his Grace to-day, If he be guilty, as 'tis published. Suf. I'll call him prefently, my noble Lord. [Exit. K. Henry. Lords, take your places: and, I pray you all, Proceed no ftraiter 'gainst our uncle Glofter, Than from true evidence, of good esteem, He be approv'd in practice culpable. Q. Mar. God forbid, any malice fhould prevail, That faultlefs may condemn a nobleman! Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion! K. Henry. I thank thee: well, these words content me much. (10) (10) I thank thee, Nell, these words content me much.] This is K. Henry's reply to his wife Margaret. Our poet, I remember, in his King John, makes Falconbridge the baftard, upon his first stepping into honour, fay, that he will study to forget his old acquaintance; And if his name be George, I'll call him Peter; For new-made honour doth forget men's names. But, furely, this is wide of King Henry's cafe; and it can be no reason why he fhould forget his own wife's name, and call her Nell inftead of Margaret.. Perhaps, it may be alledg'd, that the blunder was original in the poet; that his head was full of another character, which he introduces in this play, Eleanor Dutchess of Gloucefter, whom her husband frequently calls Nell: and thence thro' inadvertence he might flip into this mistake. Were this to be allow'd the cafe, is not the mistake therefore to be rectified. As the change of a fingle letter fets all right, I am much more willing to suppose it came from his pen thus: I thank thee: Well; these words content me much. K. Henry was a Prince of great piety and meekness, a great lover of his uncle Gloucefter, whom his nobles were rigidly perfecuting; and to whom he fufpected the Queen bore no very good will in her heart: But finding her, beyond his hopes, speak fo candidly in the Duke's cafe, he is mightily comforted and contented at her impartial feeming. I believe every body in converfation must have obferv'd, that, well, is used to exprefs an air of fatisfaction, when any incident in life goes to our wish; or any purpose, that was dreaded, happens to be disappointed.—I amended this paffage in my SHAKESPEARE refter'd, and Mr. Pope has fince embrac'd the correction. Enter Suffolk. How now why look'st thou pale? why trembleft thou? Car. God's fecret judgment: I did dream to-night, The Duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. [King woons. Q. Mar. How fares my Lord? help, Lords, the King is dead. Som. Rear up his body, wring him by the nofe. Q. Mar. Run, go, help, help: oh, Henry, ope thine eyes. Q. Mar. How fares my gracious Lord? Suf. Comfort, my Sovereign; gracious Henry, comfort. K. Henry. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to fing a raven's note, Whose dismal tune bereft my vital pow'rs: And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breaft, Can chafe away the first-conceived found? Hide not thy poison with such fugar'd words; Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I fay; Their touch affrights me as a ferpent's fting. Thou baleful meflenger, out of my fight! Upon thy eye-balls murd'rous tyranny Sits in grim majefty to fright the world. Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding! Yet do not go away; come, bafilifk, And kill the innocent gazer with thy fight: For in the shade of death I shall find joy; In life, but double death, now Glo'fter's dead. Q. Mar. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus? Although the Duke was enemy to him, Yet he, most chriftian-like, laments his death. Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans, |