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And therefore,-by His majesty I swear,
Whose far unworthy deputy I am,-
He shall not breathe infection in this air
But three days longer, on the pain of death.
[Exit Salisbury. Q. Mar. O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk !
K. Hen. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk. No
if thou dost plead for him, Thou wilt but add increase unto my wrath. Had I but said, I would have kept my word; But, when I swear, it is irrevocable :If, after three days' space, thou here be'st found On any ground that I am ruler of, The world shall not be ransom for thy life.Come, Warwick, come, good Warwick, go with me; I have great matters to impart to thee.
[Exeunt K. Henry, Warwick, Lords, &c. Q. Mar. Mischance, and sorrow, go along with
Heart's discontent, and sour affliction,
Be playfellows to keep you company!
There's two of you; the devil make a third,
And threefold vengeance tend upon your steps !
Suf. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations,
And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave.
Q. Mar. Fye, coward woman, and soft-hearted
wretch ! Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies? Suf. A plague upon them! wherefore should I
curse them? Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, I would invent as bitter-searching terms, As curst, as harsh, and horrible to hear, Deliver'd strongly through my fixed teeth, With full as many signs of deadly hate, As lean-fac'd Envy in her loathsome cave: My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words;. VOL. V.
Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint;
My hair be fix'd on end, as one distract;
Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban:
And even now my burden'd heart would break,
Should I not curse them. Poison be their driok !
Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest that they taste!
Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees !
Their chiefest prospect, murdering basilisks!
Their softest touch, as smart as lizards' stings !
Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss;
And bodiog screech-owls make the concert full!
All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell
Q. Mar. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st
And these dread curses—like the sun 'gainst glass,
Or like an overcharged gun,--recoil,
And turn the force of them upon thyself.
Suf. You bade me ban, and will
bid me leave? Now, by the ground that I am banish'd from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. Q. Mar. 0, let me entreat thee, cease! Give me
thy hand, That I may dew it with
Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,
To wash away my woeful monuments.
O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand;
[Kisses his hand. That thou might'st think upon these by the seal, Through whom a thousand sighs are breath'd for
thee! So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; "Tis but surmis'd whilst thou art standing by, As one that surfeits thinking on a want. I will repeal thee, or, be well assur'd,
Adventure to be banished myself:
And banished I am, if but from thee.
Go, speak not to me; even now he gone.-
O, go not yet!- Even thus two friends, condemn'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 goes Vaux so fast? what news,
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.
Ab me! what is this world? what news are these?
But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss,
Omitting Suffolk's exile, my
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
If thou be found by me, thou art but dead.
Suf. If I depart from thee, I cannot live:
And in thy sight to die, what were it else,
But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap?
Here could I breathe my soul into the air,
As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe,
Dying with mother's dug between its lips:
Where, from thy sight, I should be raging mad,
And cry out for thee to close up
To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth; t1
So should'st thou either turn my flying 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
Q. Mar. Away! though parting be a fretful cor-
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,
I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out.
Suf. I go.
Q. Mar. And take my heart with thee.
Suf. A jewel, lock'd into the woeful'st cask
That ever did contain a thing of worth.
Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we;
fall I to death.
Q. Mar. This way for me. [Exeunt, severally.
SCENE III.- London. Cardinal Beaufort's
Enter King HENRY, Salisbury, Warwick, and
Others. The Cardinal in bed; Attendants with him.
K. Hen. How fares my lord? speak, Beaufort, to
Car. If thou be’st 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
Died he not in his bed? where should he die?
Can I make men live, whe'r they will or no?-
0! 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.-
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!
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
Sal. Disturb him not, let him pass peaceably.