See how the giddy
multitude do point
And nod their heads and throw their eyes on thee;
Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their
hateful looks,
And, in thy
closet pent up, rue my shame
And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!
GLOUCESTER. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
DUCHESS. Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself!
For
whilst I think I am thy married wife
And thou a
prince, Protector of this land,
Methinks I should not thus be led along,
Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back,
And follow'd with a rabble that rejoice
To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
The
ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I start, the
envious people laugh
And bid me be advised how I tread.
Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this
shameful yoke?
Trowest thou that e'er I'll look upon the world
Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
No; dark shall be my light and night my day;
To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometimes I'll say I am Duke Humphrey's wife,
And he a
prince, and ruler of the land;
Yet so he rul'd, and such a
prince he was,
As he stood by
whilst I, his
forlornduchess,
Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
To every idle
rascal follower.
But be thou mild, and blush not at my shame,
Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
Hang over thee, as sure it
shortly will.
For Suffolk- he that can do all in all
With her that hateth thee and hates us all-
And York, and
impious Beaufort, that false priest,
Have all lim'd bushes to
betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll
tangle thee.
But fear not thou until thy foot be snar'd,
Nor never seek
prevention of thy foes.
GLOUCESTER. Ah, Nell, forbear! Thou aimest all awry.
I must
offend before I be attainted;
And had I twenty times so many foes,
And each of them had twenty times their power,
All these could not
procure me any scathe
So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
Wouldst have me
rescue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy
scandal were not wip'd away,
But I in danger for the
breach of law.
Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.
I pray thee sort thy heart to patience;
These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.
Enter a HERALD
HERALD. I
summon your Grace to his Majesty's Parliament,
Holden at Bury the first of this next month.
GLOUCESTER. And my consent ne'er ask'd
herein before!
This is close
dealing. Well, I will be there. Exit HERALD
My Nell, I take my leave- and, master
sheriff,
Let not her
penanceexceed the King's
commission.
SHERIFF. An't please your Grace, here my
commission stays;
And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
To take her with him to the Isle of Man.
GLOUCESTER. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here?
STANLEY. So am I given in
charge, may't please your Grace.
GLOUCESTER. Entreat her not the worse in that I pray
You use her well; the world may laugh again,
And I may live to do you kindness if
You do it her. And so, Sir John,
farewell.
DUCHESS. What, gone, my lord, and bid me not
farewell!
GLOUCESTER. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.
Exeunt GLOUCESTER and servants
DUCHESS. Art thou gone too? All comfort go with thee!
For none abides with me. My joy is death-
Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,
Because I wish'd this world's eternity.
Stanley, I prithee go, and take me hence;
I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
Only
convey me where thou art commanded.
STANLEY. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man,
There to be us'd according to your state.
DUCHESS. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach-
And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?
STANLEY. Like to a
duchess and Duke Humphrey's lady;
According to that state you shall be us'd.
DUCHESS. Sheriff,
farewell, and better than I fare,
Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.
SHERIFF. It is my office; and, madam,
pardon me.
DUCHESS. Ay, ay,
farewell; thy office is discharg'd.
Come, Stanley, shall we go?
STANLEY. Madam, your
penance done, throw off this sheet,
And go we to
attire you for our journey.
DUCHESS. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet.
No, it will hang upon my richest robes
And show itself,
attire me how I can.
Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison. Exeunt
ACT III. SCENE I.
The Abbey at Bury St. Edmunds
Sound a sennet. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK,
YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY, and WARWICK, to the Parliament
KING HENRY. I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come.
'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man,
Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now.
QUEEN. Can you not see, or will ye not observe
The strangeness of his alter'd
countenance?
With what a
majesty he bears himself;
How
insolent of late he is become,
How proud, how peremptory, and
unlike himself?
We know the time since he was mild and affable,
And if we did but glance a
far-off look
Immediately he was upon his knee,
That all the court admir'd him for submission.
But meet him now and be it in the morn,
When every one will give the time of day,
He knits his brow and shows an angry eye
And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee,
Disdaining duty that to us belongs.
Small curs are not regarded when they grin,
But great men tremble when the lion roars,
And Humphrey is no little man in England.
First note that he is near you in descent,
And should you fall he is the next will mount;
Me seemeth, then, it is no policy-
Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears,
And his
advantage following your decease-
That he should come about your royal person
Or be admitted to your Highness' Council.
By
flattery hath he won the commons' hearts;
And when he please to make commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him.
Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted;
Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden
And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.
The reverent care I bear unto my lord
Made me collect these dangers in the Duke.
If it be fond, can it a woman's fear;
Which fear if better reasons can supplant,
I will
subscribe, and say I wrong'd the Duke.
My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York,
Reprove my allegation if you can,
Or else conclude my words effectual.
SUFFOLK. Well hath your Highness seen into this duke;
And had I first been put to speak my mind,
I think I should have told your Grace's tale.
The Duchess, by his subornation,
Upon my life, began her
devilish practices;
Or if he were not privy to those faults,
Yet by reputing of his high descent-
As next the King he was
successive heir-
And such high vaunts of his nobility,
Did instigate the bedlam brainsick Duchess
By
wicked means to frame our
sovereign's fall.
Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep,
And in his simple show he harbours
treason.
The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.
No, no, my
sovereign, Gloucester is a man
Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.
CARDINAL. Did he not,
contrary to form of law,
Devise strange deaths for small offences done?
YORK. And did he not, in his
protectorship,
Levy great sums of money through the realm
For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it?
By means
whereof the towns each day revolted.
BUCKINGHAM. Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown
Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke Humphrey.
KING HENRY. My lords, at once: the care you have of us,
To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot,
Is
worthy praise; but shall I speak my conscience?
Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent
From meaning
treason to our royal person
As is the sucking lamb or
harmless dove:
The Duke is
virtuous, mild, and too well given
To dream on evil or to work my downfall.
QUEEN. Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance?
Seems he a dove? His feathers are but borrow'd,
For he's disposed as the
hateful raven.
Is he a lamb? His skin is surely lent him,
For he's inclin'd as is the ravenous wolf.
Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit?
Take heed, my lord; the
welfare of us all
Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man.
Enter SOMERSET
SOMERSET. All health unto my
gracioussovereign!
KING HENRY. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France?
SOMERSET. That all your interest in those territories
Is utterly
bereft you; all is lost.
KING HENRY. Cold news, Lord Somerset; but God's will be done!
YORK. [Aside] 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.
Enter GLOUCESTER
GLOUCESTER. All happiness unto my lord the King!
Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long.
SUFFOLK. Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon,
Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art.
I do
arrest thee of high
treason here.
GLOUCESTER. Well, Suffolk, 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? W
herein am I
guilty?