READ STUDY GUIDE: Act III, Scene i |
|
Act III, Scene i
| [Sound a sennet. Enter the KING, the QUEEN, CARDINALBEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, SALISBURY,and WARWICK to the Parliament.] |
| KING.: |
| I muse my Lord of Gloster 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 |
| 'T is to be fear'd they all will follow him. |
| Now 't is 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 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. |
| The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb.— |
| No, no, my sovereign; Gloster 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.: |
| 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 Gloster 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 gracious sovereign! |
| KING.: |
| Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France? |
| SOMERSET.: |
| That all your interest in those territories |
| Is utterly bereft you; all is lost. |
| KING.: |
| 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 GLOSTER.] |
| GLOSTER.: |
| All happiness unto my lord the king! |
| Pardon, my liege, that I have staid so long. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| Nay, Gloster, know that thou art come too soon, |
| Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art. |
| I do arrest thee of high treason here. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| 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? wherein am I guilty? |
| YORK.: |
| 'T is thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, |
| And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay, |
| By means whereof his highness hath lost France. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| 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. |
| 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! |
| No; many a pound of mine own proper store, |
| Because I would not tax the needy commons, |
| Have I dispursed to the garrisons, |
| And never ask'd for restitution. |
| CARDINAL.: |
| It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| 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 defam'd by tyranny. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| Why, 't is well known that, whiles I was 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 murtherer, |
| Or foul felonious thief that fleec'd poor passengers, |
| I never gave them condign punishment. |
| Murther indeed, that bloody sin, I tortur'd |
| Above the felon or what trespass else. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd; |
| 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. |
| KING.: |
| My Lord of Gloster, 't is my special hope |
| That you will clear yourself from all suspect; |
| My conscience tells me you are innocent. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous. |
| Virtue is chok'd with foul ambition, |
| And charity chas'd hence by rancour's hand; |
| Foul subornation is predominant, |
| And equity exil'd your highness' land. |
| I know their complot is to have my life, |
| And if my death might make this island happy |
| 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. |
| 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, |
| 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 |
| My liefest liege to be mine enemy.— |
| Ay, all of 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, |
| 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 |
| From treason's secret knife and traitor's rage |
| Be thus upbraided, chid, and rated at, |
| And the offender granted scope of speech, |
| 'T will make them cool in zeal unto your grace. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here |
| With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd, |
| As if she had suborned some to swear |
| False allegations to o'erthrow his state? |
| QUEEN.: |
| But I can give the loser leave to chide. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| Far truer spoke than meant; I lose, indeed. |
| 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. |
| GLOSTER.: |
| 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! |
| For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. |
| [Exit, guarded.] |
| KING.: |
| My lords, what to your wisdoms seemeth best, |
| Do or undo, as if ourself were here. |
| QUEEN.: |
| What, will your highness leave the parliament? |
| KING.: |
| Ay, Margaret; my heart is drown'd with grief, |
| 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; |
| And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come |
| That e'er I prov'd thee false or fear'd thy faith. |
| What lowering star now envies thy estate, |
| That these great lords and Margaret our queen |
| Do seek subversion of thy harmless life? |
| 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; |
| 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 Gloster's case |
| With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes |
| 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? Gloster he is none.' |
| [Exeunt all but Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolkand York; Somerset remains apart.] |
| QUEEN.: |
| Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams. |
| Henry my lord is cold in great affairs, |
| Too full of foolish pity, and Gloster's show |
| Beguiles him as the mournful crocodile |
| With sorrow snares relenting passengers, |
| Or as the snake roll'd in a flowering bank, |
| With shining checker'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 Gloster should be quickly rid the world, |
| To rid us from the fear we have of him. |
| CARDINAL.: |
| That he should die is worthy policy, |
| But yet we want a colour for his death, |
| 'T is meet he be condemn'd by course of law. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| But, in my mind, that were no policy. |
| 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. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| Ah, York, no man alive so fain as I! |
| YORK.: |
| 'T is 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 |
| To guard the chicken from a hungry kite, |
| As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector? |
| QUEEN.: |
| So the poor chicken should be sure of death. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| Madam, 't is true; and were 't not madness, then, |
| To make the fox surveyor of the fold? |
| Who being accus'd a crafty murtherer, |
| 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 prov'd an enemy to the flock, |
| Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, |
| As Humphrey, prov'd 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, 't is no matter how, |
| So he be dead; for that is good deceit |
| Which mates him first that first intends deceit. |
| QUEEN.: |
| Thrice-noble Suffolk, 't is resolutely spoke. |
| SUFFOLK.: |
| Not resolute, except so much were done, |
| For things are often spoke and seldom meant; |
| 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, |
| 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. |
| QUEEN.: |
| 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 |
| And put the Englishmen unto the sword. |
| Send succours, 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! |
| What council give you in this weighty cause? |
| YORK.: |
| That Somerset be sent as regent thither. |
| 'T is meet that lucky ruler be employ'd; |
| Witness the fortune he hath had in France. |
| SOMERSET.: |
| If York, with all his far-fet policy, |
| 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 burden of dishonour home |
| By staying there so long till all were lost. |
| Show me one scar character'd on thy skin; |
| Men's flesh preserv'd so whole do seldom win. |
| QUEEN.: |
| Nay then, this spark will prove a raging fire, |
| If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with. |
| No more, good York.—Sweet Somerset, be still.— |
| Thy fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there, |
| Might happily have prov'd far worse than his. |
| YORK.: |
| What, worse than nought? nay, then a shame take all! |
| SOMERSET.: |
| And, in the number, thee that wishest shame! |
| 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, |
| 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. |
| 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 |
| 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; |
| 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 hop'st to be, or what thou art |
| Resign to death; it is not worth the enjoying. |
| Let pale-fac'd fear keep with the mean-born man, |
| And find no harbour in a royal heart. |
| Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on thought, |
| 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, 't is politicly done, |
| To send me packing with an host of men; |
| I fear me you but warm the starved snake, |
| Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts. |
| 'T was men I lack'd, and you will give them me; |
| I take it kindly, yet be well-assur'd |
| 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 |
| 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 seduc'd a headstrong Kentishman, |
| John Cade of Ashford, |
| To make commotion, as full well he can, |
| Under the tide of John Mortimer. |
| In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade |
| Oppose himself against a troop of kerns, |
| And fought so long till that his thighs with darts |
| Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine; |
| And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen |
| Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, |
| Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells. |
| 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 villainies. |
| This devil here shall be my substitute; |
| 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, |
| I know no pain they can inflict upon him |
| Will make him say I mov'd him to those arms. |
| Say that he thrive, as 't is great like he will, |
| Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength |
| And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd; |
| For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, |
| And Henry put apart, the next for me. |
| [Exit.] |
|
|
||||
|
