| ACT III SCENE I | The Abbey at Bury St. Edmund's. | |
| | Sound a sennet. Enter KING HENRY VI, QUEENMARGARET, CARDINAL, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM,SALISBURY and WARWICK to the Parliament | |
| KING HENRY VI | 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 MARGARET | Can you not see? or will ye not observe | 5 |
| | 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, | 10 |
| | And if we did but glance a far-off look, | |
| | Immediately he was upon his knee, | |
| | That all the court admired him for submission: | |
| | But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, | |
| | When every one will give the time of day, | 15 |
| | 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; | 20 |
| | And Humphrey is no little man in England. | |
| | First note that he is near you in descent, | |
| | And should you fall, he as the next will mount. | |
| | Me seemeth then it is no policy, | |
| | Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears | 25 |
| | 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, | 30 |
| | '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 | 35 |
| | Made me collect these dangers in the duke. | |
| | If it be fond, call 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, | 40 |
| | 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. | 45 |
| | The duchess, by his subornation, | |
| | Upon my life, began her devilish practises: | |
| | Or, if he were not privy to those faults, | |
| | Yet, by reputing of his high descent, | |
| | As next the king he was successive heir, | 50 |
| | And such high vaunts of his nobility, | |
| | Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick 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. | 55 |
| | 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? | 60 |
| 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. | 65 |
| | Which time will bring to light in smooth | |
| | Duke Humphrey. | |
| KING HENRY VI | 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, | 70 |
| | 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. | 75 |
| QUEEN MARGARET | Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance! | |
| | Seems he a dove? his feathers are but borrowed, | |
| | For he's disposed as the hateful raven: | |
| | Is he a lamb? his skin is surely lent him, | |
| | For he's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. | 80 |
| | 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 gracious sovereign! | |
| KING HENRY VI | Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? | 85 |
| SOMERSET | That all your interest in those territories | |
| | Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. | |
| KING HENRY VI | Cold news, Lord Somerset: but God's will be done! | |
| YORK | Aside | |
| | As firmly as I hope for fertile England. | |
| | Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud | 90 |
| | 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. | 95 |
| 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: | 100 |
| | 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? wherein am I guilty? | |
| YORK | 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, | 105 |
| | And, being protector, stayed the soldiers' pay; | |
| | By means whereof his highness hath lost France. | |
| GLOUCESTER | Is it but thought so? what are they that think it? | |
| | I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay, | |
| | Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. | 110 |
| | So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, | |
| | Ay, night by night, in studying good for England, | |
| | That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, | |
| | Or any groat I hoarded to my use, | |
| | Be brought against me at my trial-day! | 115 |
| | No; many a pound of mine own proper store, | |
| | Because I would not tax the needy commons, | |
| | Have I disbursed to the garrisons, | |
| | And never ask'd for restitution. | |
| CARDINAL | It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. | 120 |
| GLOUCESTER | I say no more than truth, so help me God! | |
| YORK | In your protectorship you did devise | |
| | Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, | |
| | That England was defamed by tyranny. | |
| GLOUCESTER | Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was | 125 |
| | protector, | |
| | Pity was all the fault that was in me; | |
| | For I should melt at an offender's tears, | |
| | And lowly words were ransom for their fault. | |
| | Unless it were a bloody murderer, | 130 |
| | Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, | |
| | I never gave them condign punishment: | |
| | Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured | |
| | Above the felon or what trespass else. | |
| SUFFOLK | My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answered: | 135 |
| | But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, | |
| | Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. | |
| | I do arrest you in his highness' name; | |
| | And here commit you to my lord cardinal | |
| | To keep, until your further time of trial. | 140 |
| KING HENRY VI | My lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope | |
| | That you will clear yourself from all suspect: | |
| | My conscience tells me you are innocent. | |
| GLOUCESTER | Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous: | |
| | Virtue is choked with foul ambition | 145 |
| | And charity chased hence by rancour's hand; | |
| | Foul subornation is predominant | |
| | And equity exiled your highness' land. | |
| | I know their complot is to have my life, | |
| | And if my death might make this island happy, | 150 |
| | And prove the period of their tyranny, | |
| | I would expend it with all willingness: | |
| | But mine is made the prologue to their play; | |
| | For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, | |
| | Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. | 155 |
| | Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, | |
| | And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate; | |
| | Sharp Buckingham unburthens with his tongue | |
| | The envious load that lies upon his heart; | |
| | And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, | 160 |
| | Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back, | |
| | By false accuse doth level at my life: | |
| | And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest, | |
| | Causeless have laid disgraces on my head, | |
| | And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up | 165 |
| | My liefest liege to be mine enemy: | |
| | Ay, all you have laid your heads together-- | |
| | Myself had notice of your conventicles-- | |
| | And all to make away my guiltless life. | |
| | I shall not want false witness to condemn me, | 170 |
| | Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt; | |
| | The ancient proverb will be well effected: | |
| | 'A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' | |
| CARDINAL | My liege, his railing is intolerable: | |
| | If those that care to keep your royal person | 175 |
| | From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage | |
| | Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at, | |
| | And the offender granted scope of speech, | |
| | 'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. | |
| SUFFOLK | Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here | 180 |
| | With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, | |
| | As if she had suborned some to swear | |
| | False allegations to o'erthrow his state? | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | But I can give the loser leave to chide. | |
| GLOUCESTER | Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; | 185 |
| | Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false! | |
| | And well such losers may have leave to speak. | |
| BUCKINGHAM | He'll wrest the sense and hold us here all day: | |
| | Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. | |
| CARDINAL | Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. | 190 |
| GLOUCESTER | Ah! thus King Henry throws away his crutch | |
| | Before his legs be firm to bear his body. | |
| | Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, | |
| | And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. | |
| | Ah, that my fear were false! ah, that it were! | 195 |
| | For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. | |
| | Exit, guarded | |
| KING HENRY VI | My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best, | |
| | Do or undo, as if ourself were here. | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | What, will your highness leave the parliament? | |
| KING HENRY VI | Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief, | 200 |
| | Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes, | |
| | My body round engirt with misery, | |
| | For what's more miserable than discontent? | |
| | Ah, uncle Humphrey! in thy face I see | |
| | The map of honour, truth and loyalty: | 205 |
| | And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come | |
| | That e'er I proved thee false or fear'd thy faith. | |
| | What louring star now envies thy estate, | |
| | That these great lords and Margaret our queen | |
| | Do seek subversion of thy harmless life? | 210 |
| | Thou never didst them wrong, nor no man wrong; | |
| | And as the butcher takes away the calf | |
| | And binds the wretch, and beats it when it strays, | |
| | Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house, | |
| | Even so remorseless have they borne him hence; | 215 |
| | And as the dam runs lowing up and down, | |
| | Looking the way her harmless young one went, | |
| | And can do nought but wail her darling's loss, | |
| | Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case | |
| | With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes | 220 |
| | Look after him and cannot do him good, | |
| | So mighty are his vowed enemies. | |
| | His fortunes I will weep; and, 'twixt each groan | |
| | Say 'Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.' | |
| | Exeunt all but QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL,SUFFOLK, and YORK; SOMERSET remains apart | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams. | 225 |
| | Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, | |
| | Too full of foolish pity, and Gloucester's show | |
| | Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile | |
| | With sorrow snares relenting passengers, | |
| | Or as the snake roll'd in a flowering bank, | 230 |
| | With shining chequer'd slough, doth sting a child | |
| | That for the beauty thinks it excellent. | |
| | Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I-- | |
| | And yet herein I judge mine own wit good-- | |
| | This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world, | 235 |
| | To rid us of the fear we have of him. | |
| CARDINAL | That he should die is worthy policy; | |
| | But yet we want a colour for his death: | |
| | 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law. | |
| SUFFOLK | But, in my mind, that were no policy: | 240 |
| | The king will labour still to save his life, | |
| | The commons haply rise, to save his life; | |
| | And yet we have but trivial argument, | |
| | More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death. | |
| YORK | So that, by this, you would not have him die. | 245 |
| SUFFOLK | Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I! | |
| YORK | 'Tis York that hath more reason for his death. | |
| | But, my lord cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk, | |
| | Say as you think, and speak it from your souls, | |
| | Were't not all one, an empty eagle were set | 250 |
| | To guard the chicken from a hungry kite, | |
| | As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector? | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | So the poor chicken should be sure of death. | |
| SUFFOLK | Madam, 'tis true; and were't not madness, then, | |
| | To make the fox surveyor of the fold? | 255 |
| | Who being accused a crafty murderer, | |
| | His guilt should be but idly posted over, | |
| | Because his purpose is not executed. | |
| | No; let him die, in that he is a fox, | |
| | By nature proved an enemy to the flock, | 260 |
| | Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, | |
| | As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege. | |
| | And do not stand on quillets how to slay him: | |
| | Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety, | |
| | Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how, | 265 |
| | So he be dead; for that is good deceit | |
| | Which mates him first that first intends deceit. | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | Thrice-noble Suffolk, 'tis resolutely spoke. | |
| SUFFOLK | Not resolute, except so much were done; | |
| | For things are often spoke and seldom meant: | 270 |
| | But that my heart accordeth with my tongue, | |
| | Seeing the deed is meritorious, | |
| | And to preserve my sovereign from his foe, | |
| | Say but the word, and I will be his priest. | |
| CARDINAL | But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk, | 275 |
| | Ere you can take due orders for a priest: | |
| | Say you consent and censure well the deed, | |
| | And I'll provide his executioner, | |
| | I tender so the safety of my liege. | |
| SUFFOLK | Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing. | 280 |
| QUEEN MARGARET | And so say I. | |
| YORK | And I and now we three have spoke it, | |
| | It skills not greatly who impugns our doom. | |
| | Enter a Post | |
| Post | Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain, | |
| | To signify that rebels there are up | 285 |
| | And put the Englishmen unto the sword: | |
| | Send succors, lords, and stop the rage betime, | |
| | Before the wound do grow uncurable; | |
| | For, being green, there is great hope of help. | |
| CARDINAL | A breach that craves a quick expedient stop! | 290 |
| | What counsel give you in this weighty cause? | |
| YORK | That Somerset be sent as regent thither: | |
| | 'Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd; | |
| | Witness the fortune he hath had in France. | |
| SOMERSET | If York, with all his far-fet policy, | 295 |
| | Had been the regent there instead of me, | |
| | He never would have stay'd in France so long. | |
| YORK | No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done: | |
| | I rather would have lost my life betimes | |
| | Than bring a burthen of dishonour home | 300 |
| | By staying there so long till all were lost. | |
| | Show me one scar character'd on thy skin: | |
| | Men's flesh preserved so whole do seldom win. | |
| QUEEN MARGARET | Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire, | |
| | If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with: | 305 |
| | No more, good York; sweet Somerset, be still: | |
| | Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, | |
| | Might happily have proved far worse than his. | |
| YORK | What, worse than nought? nay, then, a shame take all! | |
| SOMERSET | And, in the number, thee that wishest shame! | 310 |
| CARDINAL | My Lord of York, try what your fortune is. | |
| | The uncivil kerns of Ireland are in arms | |
| | And temper clay with blood of Englishmen: | |
| | To Ireland will you lead a band of men, | |
| | Collected choicely, from each county some, | 315 |
| | And try your hap against the Irishmen? | |
| YORK | I will, my lord, so please his majesty. | |
| SUFFOLK | Why, our authority is his consent, | |
| | And what we do establish he confirms: | |
| | Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand. | 320 |
| YORK | I am content: provide me soldiers, lords, | |
| | Whiles I take order for mine own affairs. | |
| SUFFOLK | A charge, Lord York, that I will see perform'd. | |
| | But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey. | |
| CARDINAL | No more of him; for I will deal with him | 325 |
| | That henceforth he shall trouble us no more. | |
| | And so break off; the day is almost spent: | |
| | Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event. | |
| YORK | My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days | |
| | At Bristol I expect my soldiers; | 330 |
| | For there I'll ship them all for Ireland. | |
| SUFFOLK | I'll see it truly done, my Lord of York. | |
| | Exeunt all but YORK | |
| YORK | Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, | |
| | And change misdoubt to resolution: | |
| | Be that thou hopest to be, or what thou art | 335 |
| | Resign to death; it is not worth the enjoying: | |
| | Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man, | |
| | And find no harbour in a royal heart. | |
| | Faster than spring-time showers comes thought | |
| | on thought, | 340 |
| | And not a thought but thinks on dignity. | |
| | My brain more busy than the labouring spider | |
| | Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies. | |
| | Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done, | |
| | To send me packing with an host of men: | 345 |
| | I fear me you but warm the starved snake, | |
| | Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting | |
| | your hearts. | |
| | 'Twas men I lack'd and you will give them me: | |
| | I take it kindly; and yet be well assured | 350 |
| | You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands. | |
| | Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band, | |
| | I will stir up in England some black storm | |
| | Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell; | |
| | And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage | 355 |
| | Until the golden circuit on my head, | |
| | Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams, | |
| | Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw. | |
| | And, for a minister of my intent, | |
| | I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman, | 360 |
| | John Cade of Ashford, | |
| | To make commotion, as full well he can, | |
| | Under the title of John Mortimer. | |
| | In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade | |
| | Oppose himself against a troop of kerns, | 365 |
| | And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts | |
| | Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine; | |
| | And, in the end being rescued, I have seen | |
| | Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, | |
| | Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells. | 370 |
| | Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kern, | |
| | Hath he conversed with the enemy, | |
| | And undiscover'd come to me again | |
| | And given me notice of their villanies. | |
| | This devil here shall be my substitute; | 375 |
| | For that John Mortimer, which now is dead, | |
| | In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble: | |
| | By this I shall perceive the commons' mind, | |
| | How they affect the house and claim of York. | |
| | Say he be taken, rack'd and tortured, | 380 |
| | I know no pain they can inflict upon him | |
| | Will make him say I moved him to those arms. | |
| | Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will, | |
| | Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength | |
| | And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd; | 385 |
| | For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, | |
| | And Henry put apart, the next for me. | |
| | Exit | |