him.

Can I make men live, whether they will or no?
O, torture me no more! I will confess.
Alive again? then show me where he is:
I'll give a thousand pound to look upon
He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.
Comb down his hair; look, look! it stands upright,
Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul.
Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary
Bring the strong poison that I bought of him.
KING. O thou eternal mover of the heavens,
Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch!
O, beat away the busy meddling fiend
That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul,
And from his bosom purge this black despair!

WAR. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin !
SAL. Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably.
KING. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be!
Lord cardinal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,
Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.
He dies, and makes no sign. O God, forgive him!
WAR. So bad a death argues a monstrous life.
KING. Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.
Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close;
And let us all to meditation.

[Exeunt.

16 lime-twigs] twigs smeared with birdlime. See note on I, iii, 86.

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20

30

Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Captain, a Master, a Master's-Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners

CAPTAIN

HE GAUDY, BLABBING and remorseful day

Is crept into the bosom of the

sea;

And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades

That drag the tragic melancholy night;

Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,

Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws

Breathe foul contagious dark-
ness in the air.

Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,

1 blabbing and remorseful] tell-tale and compassionate. Cf. Macb., "Scarf up the tender eye of pitiful day."

Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
Or with their blood stain this discoloured shore.
Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;

And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;
The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

FIRST GENT. What is my ransom, master? let me know.

MAST. A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head. MATE. And so much shall you give, or off goes yours. CAP. What, think you much to pay two thousand

crowns,

And bear the name and port of gentlemen?

Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall:
The lives of those which we have lost in fight
Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!

FIRST GENT. I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.

SEC. GENT. And so will I, and write home for it

straight.

WHIT. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die;
And so should these, if I might have my will.

[To Suf.

CAP. Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live. SUF. Look on my George; I am a gentleman: Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. WHIT. And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.

6 Clip] Embrace, encircle.

25 laying... abroad] placing my own ship alongside the prize. 29 George] A metal badge in the shape of the figure of St. George on horseback. A part of the insignia of the order of the Garter.

How now! why start'st thou? what, doth death affright?

SUF. Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death. A cunning man did calculate my birth,

And told me that by water I should die:

Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded.

WHIT. Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
Never yet did base dishonour blur our name,
But with our sword we wiped away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
SUF. Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

WHIT. The Duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags! SUF. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke: Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I?

40

CAP. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. SUF. Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood, 50 The honourable blood of Lancaster,

Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.

Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?

35 by water I should die] Cf. I, iv, 33 and 65, supra, where the prophecy of Suffolk's death is announced in the words: "By water shall he die, and take his end."

50 King Henry's blood] This is a false claim on Suffolk's part. His mother was a remote cousin of Henry VI. No Lancastrian blood could be accurately said to flow in his veins.

52 a jaded groom] a contemptible groom, as contemptible as the poorest class of horse.

Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule,
And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
How often hast thou waited at my cup,

Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board,
When I have feasted with Queen Margaret ?
Remember it and let it make thee crest-fall'n.
Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride;
How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
And duly waited for my coming forth?
This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.

WHIT. Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain ? CAP. First let my words stab him, as he hath me. SUF. Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou. CAP. Convey him hence and on our long-boat's side Strike off his head.

54 foot-cloth mule] a mule covered with a rich foot-cloth nearly touching the ground on each side. It was a caparison only used by persons of rank and wealth. Cf. IV, vii, 43, infra.

60 abortive pride] pride that has been born before its time, unnatural, futile. 61 voiding lobby] hall or corridor of entry and exit.

63 writ in thy behalf] written letters recommending thee for preferment. 64 charm... tongue] charm into silence thy insolent tongue. Cf. Othello, V, ii, 187: "I will not charm my tongue; I am bound to speak.” 70 Yes, Pole. . . . lord!] These three interjectory speeches of the Captain and Suffolk were added by Capell from the Quartos. They were omitted from the Folios. Suffolk's family name was De la Pole, "Pole" being pronounced "Pool."

70