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* And banished I am, if but from thee. * Go, speak not to me; even now be gone.-* 0, go not yet !- Even thus two friends con
demn'd * Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves, * Loather a hundred times to part than die. * Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee!
Suf. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished, Once by the king, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou hence; * A wilderness is populous enough, * So Suffolk had thy heavenly company: * For where thou art, there is the world itself, * With every several pleasure in the world * And where thou art not, desolation. * I can no more :-Live thou to joy thy life; * Myself no joy in nought, but that thou liv’st.
'Q. Mar. Whither
Vaux so fast? what news, I pr’ythee? · Vaux. To signify unto his majesty, That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death:
For suddenly a grievous sickness took him, . That makes him gasp, and stare, and catch the
air, Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth. Sometime, he talks as if duke Humphrey's ghost • Were by his side; sometime, he calls the king, And whispers to his pillow, as to him, * The secrets of his overcharged soul :
And I am sent to tell his majesty, • That even now he cries aloud for him. Q. Mar. Go, tell this heavy message to the king.
[Exit Vaux. Ah me! what is this world? what news are these?
• But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
Omitting Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?.. Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee, . And with the southern clouds contend in tears ; · Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows? Now, get thee hence : The king, thou know'st, is
Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot live:
As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe,
So should’st thou either turn my Aying soul, Or I should breathe it so into thy body, And then it liv’d in sweet Elysium. To die by thee, were but to die in jest ; From thee to die, were torture more than death : O, let me stay, befall what may befall. 'Q. Mar. Away! though parting be a fretful
corrosive, It is applied to a deathful wound. " To France, sweet Suffolk : Let me hear from thee;
For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe,
Suf. I go.
8 Where,] In the pream!: les of almost all the statutes made during the first twenty years of Queen Elizabeth's reign, the word where is employed instead of whereas. It is so used here.
9 P'll have an Iris -] Iris was the messenger of Juno.
Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we;
This way for me.
London. Cardinal Beaufort's Bed-Chamber.
Enter King Henry, SALISBURY, WARWICK, and Others. The Cardinal in bed; Attendants with him. K. Hen. How fares my lord ? speak, Beaufort,
to thy sovereign. Car. If thou best death, I'll give thee England's
* Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.
* K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, * When death's approach is seen so terrible!
* War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. * Car. Bring me unto my trial, when you will. Died he not in his bed i where should he die? Can I make men live, whe'r 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 him.* He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.s 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.
* K. Hen. O thou eternal Mover of the heavens, * Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch ! * 0, beat away the busy meddling fiend, * That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, * And from his bosom purge this black despair i
* War. See, how the pangs of death do make
him grin. * Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.
K. Hen. Peace to his soul, if God's good plea
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. * K. Hen. Forbear to judge, for we are siriners
all. • Close up
and draw the curtain close ; And let us all to meditation.
SCENE I. Kent. The Sea-shore near Dover.
Firing heard at Sea. Then enter from a Boat, a
Captain, a Master, a Master's-Mate, WALTER WHITMORE, and Others; with them SUFFOLK, and other Gentlemen, prisoners. * Cap. The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful? day Is crept into the bosom of the sea; * And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
* Exeunt.] This is one of the scenes which have been applauded by the criticks, and which will continue to be admired when prejudices shall cease, and bigotry give way to impartial examination. These are beauties that rise out of nature and of truth ; the superficial reader cannot miss them, the profound can image nothing beyond them. Johnson.
2 The gaudy, blabbing, and remorseful day -] The epithet blabbing applied to the day by a man about to commit murder, is exquisitely beautiful. Guilt is afraid of light, considers darkness as a natural shelter, and makes night the confidante of those actions which cannot be trusted to the tell-tale day. Johnson.