Despatch'd this thing? 1 Mur. Ay, my good lord, he's dead. Suf. Why, that's well said. Go, get you to my house; I will reward you for this venturous deed. The king and all the peers are here at hand :- 1 Mur. 'Tis, my good lord. Suf. Away, begone! * [Exeunt Murderers. Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BEAUFORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and others. K. Hen. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight : Say, we intend to try his grace to-day, If he be guilty, as 'tis published. Suf. I'll call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit. K. Hen. Lords, take your places ;-And, I pray you all, Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Than from true evidence, of good esteem, He be approy'd in practice culpable. Q. Mar. God forbid any malice should prevail, That faultless may condemn a nobleman! Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion! K. Hen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words content me much. Re-enter SUFfolk. How now? why look'st thou pale ? why tremblest thou? Car. God's secret judgment :-I did dream to-night, The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word. [The King swoons, Q. Mar. How fares my lord?-Help, lords! the king is dead. Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.3 Q. Mar. How fares my gracious lord? [3] As nothing further is spoken either by Somerset or the Cardinal, or by any one else to show that they continue in the presence, it is to be presumed that they take advantage of the confusion occasioned by the king's swooning, and slip out unperceived. RITSON. Suf. Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort! K. Hen. What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to sing a raven's note, Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers; And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breast, Can chace away the first-conceived sound? Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words. Lay not thy hands on me; forbear, I say; Their touch affrights me, as a serpent's sting. Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight! Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world. Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding :Yet do not go away ;-Come, basilisk, And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight: For in the shade of death I shall find joy; In life, but double death, now Gloster's dead. Q. Mar. Why do you rate my lord of Suffolk thus ? Yet he, most christian-like, laments his death: I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans, What know I how the world may deem of me? So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded. To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy! Hen. Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man! What, art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf? queen. Is all thy comfort shut in Gloster's tomb ? Why, then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy: [4] Just now, even now. JOHNSON. That is, Let not woe be to thee for Gloster, but for me. JOHNSON. Erect his statue then, and worship it, And twice by aukward wind from England's bank Yet Eolus would not be a murderer, The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me ;- A heart it was, bound in with diamonds,— And threw it towards thy land ;-the sea receiv'd it; [6] The verb perish is here used actively. STEEVENS. [7] The poet here is unquestionably alluding to Virgil (Enied I.) but he strangely blends fact with fiction. In the first place, it was Cupid in the semblance of Ascanius, who sat in Dido's lap, and was fondled by her. But then it was not Cupid who related to her the process of Troy's destruction; but it was Æneas him self who related this history. MALONE Am I not witch'd like her? or thou not false like him? Ah me, I can no more! Die, Margaret! Noise within. Enter WARWICK and SALISBURY, The War. It is reported, mighty sovereign, That good duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd K. Hen. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true; But how he died, God knows, not Henry : Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, And comment then upon his sudden death. War. That I shall do, my liege :-Stay, Salisbury, With the rude multitude, till I return. [WARWICK goes into an inner room, and SALISBURY retires. K. Hen. O thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts: My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul, Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life! If my suspect be false, forgive me, God; For judgment only doth belong to thee! Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain Upon his face an ocean of salt tears; To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk, And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling: But all in vain are these mean obsequies; And, to survey his dead and earthy image, What were it but to make my sorrow greater? The folding Doors of an inner Chamber are thrown open, and GLOSTER is discovered dead in his Bed: WARWICK and others standing by it. War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body. K. Hen. That is to see how deep my grave is made: For, with his soul, fled all my worldly solace i For seeing him, I see my life in death. War. As surely as my soul intends to live With that dread King that took our state upon him Suf. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue! War. See, how the blood is settled in his face! Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale, and bloodless, But, see, his face is black, and full of blood; His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling It cannot be, but he was murder'd here; Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death? Myself, and Beaufort, had him in protection; And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers. War. But both of you were vow'd duke Humphrey's foes; And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep : 'Tis like, you would not feast him like a friend; And 'tis well seen he found an enemy. Q. Mar. Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen As guilty of duke Humphrey's timeless death. War. Who finds the heifer dead, and bleeding fresh, And sees fast by a butcher with an axe, But will suspect, 'twas he that made the slaughter? [9] All that is true of the body of a dead man, is here said by Warwick of the Soul. I would read: Oft have I seen a timely parted corse. I cannot but stop a moment to observe that this horrible description is scarcely the work of any pen but Shakespeare's. JOHNSON. Our author is not chargeable here with any impropriety, or confusion. He has only used the phraseology of his time. MALONE. [1] That is, the fingers being widely distended. So adown, for down; areary, for weary, &c. MALONE. |