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Act II, Scene iv
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[Enter GLOSTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks.]
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud, | |
| | And after summer evermore succeeds | |
| | Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold; | |
| | So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. | |
| | Sirs, what's o'clock? | |
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| | SERVINGMEN.: | |
| | Ten, my lord. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Ten is the hour that was appointed me | |
| | To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess. | |
| | Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, | |
| | To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.— | |
| | Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook | |
| | The abject people gazing on thy face | |
| | With envious looks, laughing at thy shame, | |
| | That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels | |
| | When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.— | |
| | But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare | |
| | My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries. | |
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[Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER in a white sheet,and a taper burning in her hand; with SIR JOHN STANLEY,the Sheriff, and Officers.]
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| | SERVINGMEN.: | |
| | So please your Grace, we'll take her from the | |
| | sheriff. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by. | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? | |
| | Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze! | |
| | See how the giddy multitude do point, | |
| | And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! | |
| | Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks, | |
| | And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, | |
| | And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine! | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | Ah, Gloster, 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? | |
| | Trow'st 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 forlorn duchess, | |
| | 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. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | 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 scath | |
| | 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. | |
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| | HERALD.: | |
| | I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, | |
| | Holden at Bury the first of this next month. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before! | |
| | This is close dealing.—Well, I will be there.— | |
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| | My Nell, I take my leave;—and, master sheriff, | |
| | Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. | |
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| | 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. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? | |
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| | STANLEY.: | |
| | So am I given in charge, may 't please your grace. | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | 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! | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell! | |
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| | GLOSTER.: | |
| | Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. | |
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[Exeunt Gloster and Servingmen.]
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| | 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. | |
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| | STANLEY.: | |
| | Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man; | |
| | There to be us'd according to your state. | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | That's bad enough, for I am but reproach; | |
| | And shall I then be us'd reproachfully? | |
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| | STANLEY.: | |
| | Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady; | |
| | According to that state you shall be us'd. | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, | |
| | Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. | |
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| | SHERIFF.: | |
| | It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. | |
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| | DUCHESS.: | |
| | Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.— | |
| | Come, Stanley, shall we go? | |
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| | STANLEY.: | |
| | Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, | |
| | And go we to attire you for our journey. | |
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| | 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. | |
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