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* That drag the tragick melancholy night; * Who with their drowsy, slow, and flagging wings * Clip dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws * Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air. * Therefore, bring forth the soldiers of our prize; * For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs, * Here shall they make their ransome on the sand, * Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore. • Master, this prisoner freely give I thee ;• And thou that art his mate, make boot of this ;• The other [Pointing to SUFFOLK,] Walter Whit
more, is thy share. 'i Gent. What is my ransome, 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 thou
sand 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, * Cannot be counterpois’d with such a petty sum.
* i Gent. I'llgiveit, sir; and therefore spare my life. * 2 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 ;
[To Sur. * And so should these, if I might have my
That drag the tragick melancholy night ;
Clip dead men's graves,] The wings of the jades that drag night appears an unnatural image, till it is remembered that the chariot of the night is supposed, by Shakspeare, to be drawn by dragons.
* Cap. Be not so rash; take ransome, 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. • How now? why start'st thou i 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 thec be bloody minded; Thy name is-Gualtier, being rightly sounded. • Whit. Gualtier, or Walter, which it is, I care
not: Ne'er yet did base dishonour blur our name, • But with our sword we wip'd away the blot;
Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge, • Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defac'd, * And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
[Lays hold on SUFFÓLK. • Suf. Stay, Whitmore ; for thy prisoner is a
prince, The duke of Suffolk, William de la Poole.
* Whit. Tl:e duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags ?
Suf. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke ; Jove sometime went disguis’d, And why not I?
Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. · Suf. Obscure and lowly swain, king Henry's
blood, The honourable blood of Lancaster, * Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. I last thou not kiss'd thy hand, and held my stirrup?
a jaced groom.] Jaded groom, may mean a groom whom all men treat with contempt; as worthless as the most paltry kind of horse; or a groom who has hitherto been treated with no greater ceremony than a 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, kneeld 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
* Suf. Base slave! thy words are blunt, and so
art thou. Cap. Convey him hence, and on our long-boat's
Thou dar’st not for thy own.
Poole? Sir Poole? lord ? Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt • Troubles the silver spring where England drinks. • Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth,
For swallowing the treasure of the realm :
the ground: * And thou, that smil'dst at good duke Humphrey's
death, ! Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain, * Who, in contempt, shall hiss at thee again
abortive pride :] Pride that has had birth too soon, pride is suing before its time.
* And wedded be thou to the hags of hell, * For daring to affy a mighty lord * Unto the daughter of a worthless king, * Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem. * By devilish policy art thou grown great, * And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorg’d * With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart. * By thee, Anjou and Maine were sold to France: * The false revolting Normans, thorough thee, * Disdain to call us lord; and Picardy * Hath slain their governors, surpriz'd our forts, * And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. * The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all, * Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,* As hating thee, are rising up in arms: * And now the house of York-thrust from the
crown, * By shameful murder of a guiltless king, * And lofty proud encroaching tyranny, * Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours * Advance our half-fac'd sun, striving to shine, * Under the which is writ-Invitis nubibus. * The commons here in Kent are up in arms : * And, to conclude, reproach, and beggary, * Is crept into the palace of our king, * And all by thee :-Away! convey him hence.
* Suf. O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges ! * Small things make base men proud: 'this villain
here, Being captain of a pinnace,” threatens more • Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate. • Drones suck not eagles' blood, but rob bee-hives. 6- to affy - ] To affy is to betroth in marriage.
? Being captain of a pinnace,] A pinnace did not anciently sig, nify, as at present, a man of war's boat, but a ship of small burthen.