WARWICK 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?

  Who finds the partridge in the puttock192's nest,

  But may imagine how the bird was dead,

  Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?

  Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

  QUEEN MARGARET Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?

  Is Beaufort termed a kite? Where are his talons?

  SUFFOLK I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men:

  But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease199,

  That shall be scoured200 in his rancorous heart

  That slanders me with murder's crimson badge201.

  Say, if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,

  That I am faulty203 in Duke Humphrey's death.

  [Exeunt Cardinal and Somerset]

  WARWICK What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

  QUEEN MARGARET He dares not calm his contumelious205 spirit,

  Nor cease to be an arrogant controller206,

  Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

  WARWICK Madam, be still: with reverence may I say,

  For every word you speak in his behalf

  Is slander to your royal dignity.

  SUFFOLK Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour,

  If ever lady wronged her lord so much,

  Thy mother took into her blameful bed

  Some stern untutored churl: and noble stock214

  Was graft with crab-tree slip215, whose fruit thou art,

  And never of the Nevilles' noble race.

  WARWICK But that the guilt of murder bucklers217 thee,

  And I should rob the deathsman218 of his fee,

  Quitting219 thee thereby of ten thousand shames,

  And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild220,

  I would, false murd'rous coward, on thy knee

  Make thee beg pardon for thy passed222 speech,

  And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st,

  That thou thyself was born in bastardy:

  And after all this fearful homage225 done,

  Give thee thy hire226 and send thy soul to hell,

  Pernicious227 bloodsucker of sleeping men!

  SUFFOLK Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,

  If from this presence229 thou dar'st go with me.

  WARWICK Away even now, or I will drag thee hence:

  Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope231 with thee,

  And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost.

  Exeunt [Suffolk and Warwick]

  KING HENRY VI What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted?

  Thrice is he armed that hath his quarrel just234:

  And he but naked, though locked up in steel235,

  Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

  A noise within

  QUEEN MARGARET What noise is this?

  Enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn

  KING HENRY VI Why, how now, lords? Your wrathful weapons drawn

  Here in our presence239? Dare you be so bold?

  Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?

  SUFFOLK The trait'rous Warwick with the men of Bury

  Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.

  Enter Salisbury [from the Commons, within]

  To the commons

  SALISBURY Sirs, stand apart: the king shall know your mind.--

  To King Henry

  Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,

  Unless Lord Suffolk straight be done to death,

  Or banished fair England's territories,

  They will by violence tear him from your palace,

  And torture him with grievous ling'ring death.

  They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died:

  They say, in him they fear your highness' death:

  And mere251 instinct of love and loyalty,

  Free from a stubborn opposite252 intent,

  As being thought to contradict your liking253,

  Makes them thus forward in254 his banishment.

  They say, in care of your most royal person,

  That if your highness should intend to sleep

  And charge257 that no man should disturb your rest

  In258 pain of your dislike, or pain of death,

  Yet, notwithstanding such a strait259 edict,

  Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue,

  That slyly glided towards your majesty,

  It were but necessary you were waked:

  Lest, being suffered263 in that harmful slumber,

  The mortal worm264 might make the sleep eternal.

  And therefore do they cry, though you forbid,

  That they will guard you, whe'er266 you will or no,

  From such fell267 serpents as false Suffolk is,

  With whose envenomed and fatal sting,

  Your loving uncle, twenty times his worth,

  They say, is shamefully bereft of life.

  Within

  COMMONS An answer from the king, my lord of Salisbury!

  SUFFOLK 'Tis like the commons, rude unpolished hinds272,

  Could send such message to their sovereign:

  But you, my lord, were glad to be employed,

  To show how quaint275 an orator you are.

  But all the honour Salisbury hath won

  Is that he was the Lord Ambassador

  Sent from a sort of tinkers278 to the king.

  Within

  COMMONS An answer from the king, or we will all break in.

  KING HENRY VI Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me

  I thank them for their tender loving care:

  And had I not been cited282 so by them,

  Yet did I purpose283 as they do entreat:

  For sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy

  Mischance unto my state285 by Suffolk's means.

  And therefore by his286 majesty I swear,

  Whose far unworthy deputy I am,

  He shall not breathe infection in288 this air

  But289 three days longer, on the pain of death.

  [Exit Salisbury]

  QUEEN MARGARET O Henry, let me plead for gentle290 Suffolk.

  KING HENRY VI Ungentle291 queen, to call him gentle Suffolk.

  No more, I say: 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'st296 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 [all but Queen Margaret and Suffolk]

  QUEEN MARGARET Mischance and sorrow go along with you!

  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 tend305 upon your steps.

  SUFFOLK Cease, gentle queen, these execrations306,

  And let thy Suffolk take his heavy307 leave.

  QUEEN MARGARET Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted wretch!

  Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies?

  SUFFOLK A plague upon them! Wherefore should I curse them?

  Could curses kill, as doth the mandrake's311 groan,

  I would invent as bitter-searching312 terms,

  As curst, as harsh and horrible to hear,

  Delivered strongly through my fixed314 teeth,

  With full as many signs of deadly hate,

  As lean-faced envy in her loathsome cave.

  My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words:

  Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint
318:

  Mine hair be fixed on end, as one distract319:

  Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban320,

  And even now my burdened heart would break

  Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink!

  Gall, worse than gall, the daintiest323 that they taste:

  Their sweetest shade, a grove of cypress trees324:

  Their chiefest prospect, murd'ring basilisks325:

  Their softest touch, as smart as lizards'326 stings:

  Their music, frightful as the serpent's hiss,

  And boding screech-owls make the consort328 full!

  All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell--

  QUEEN MARGARET Enough, sweet Suffolk, thou torment'st thyself,

  And these dread curses, like the sun gainst glass,

  Or like an overcharged332 gun, recoil,

  And turn the force of them upon thyself.

  SUFFOLK You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave334?

  Now by the ground that I am banished 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 sport339.

  QUEEN MARGARET O, let me entreat thee cease: give me thy hand,

  That I may dew it with my mournful tears:

  Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place,

  She kisses his hand

  To wash away my woeful monuments343.

  O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand,

  That thou mightst think upon these by the seal345,

  Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee.

  So get thee gone, that I may know347 my grief:

  'Tis but surmised348 whiles thou art standing by,

  As one that surfeits thinking on a want349:

  I will repeal350 thee, or, be well assured,

  Adventure351 to be banished myself:

  And banished I am, if but from thee.

  Go, speak not to me: even now be gone.

  O, go not yet. Even thus two friends354 condemned

  Embrace, and kiss, and take ten thousand leaves,

  Loather356 a hundred times to part than die:

  Yet now farewell, and farewell life with thee.

  SUFFOLK 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 thence360:

  A wilderness is populous enough,

  So362 Suffolk had thy heavenly company:

  For where thou art, there is the world itself,

  With every several364 pleasure in the world:

  And where thou art not, desolation.

  I can no more: live thou to joy366 thy life:

  Myself no joy in naught but that thou liv'st.

  Enter Vaux

  QUEEN MARGARET Whither goes Vaux so fast? What news, I prithee?

  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 the372 air,

  Blaspheming God and cursing men on earth.

  Sometimes he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost

  Were by his side: sometime he calls the king,

  And whispers to his pillow, as376 to him,

  The secrets of his overcharged377 soul;

  And I am sent to tell his majesty

  That even now he cries aloud for him.

  QUEEN MARGARET Go tell this heavy380 message to the king.

  Exit [Vaux]

  Ay me! What is this world? What news are these?

  But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss382,

  Omitting383 Suffolk's exile, my soul's treasure?

  Why only, Suffolk, mourn I not for thee,

  And with the southern clouds contend in385 tears?

  Theirs for the earth's increase, mine for my sorrows.

  Now get thee hence: the king, thou know'st, is coming:

  If thou be found by me, thou art but388 dead.

  SUFFOLK If I depart from thee, I cannot live:

  And in thy sight to die390, what were it else

  But like a pleasant slumber in thy lap391?

  Here could I breathe my soul into the air392,

  As mild and gentle as the cradle-babe

  Dying with mother's dug394 between its lips.

  Where, from395 thy sight, I should be raging mad,

  And cry out for thee to close up mine eyes,

  To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth,

  He kisses her

  So shouldst thou either turn398 my flying soul,

  Or I should breathe it so into thy body,

  And then it lived in sweet Elysium400.

  To die by thee were but to die in jest401:

  From thee to die were torture more than death:

  O let me stay, befall what may befall!

  QUEEN MARGARET Away: though parting be a fretful404 corrosive,

  It is applied to a deathful405 wound.

  To France, sweet Suffolk: let me hear from thee:

  For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe,

  I'll have an Iris408 that shall find thee out.

  SUFFOLK I go.

  She kisses him

  QUEEN MARGARET And take my heart with thee.

  SUFFOLK A jewel, locked into the woefull'st cask411

  That ever did contain a thing of worth:

  Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we413:

  This way fall I to death.

  QUEEN MARGARET This way for me.

  Exeunt [severally]

  [Act 3 Scene 3]

  running scene 11

  Enter the King [Henry VI], Salisbury and Warwick, to the Cardinal in bed

  KING HENRY VI How fares my lord? Speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign.

  CARDINAL If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure,

  Enough to purchase such another island,

  So4 thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain.

  KING HENRY VI Ah, what a sign it is of evil life,

  Where death's approach is seen6 so terrible.

  WARWICK Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee.

  CARDINAL Bring me unto my trial when you will.

  Died he9 not in his bed? Where should he die?

  Can I make men live, whe'er 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 dust14 hath blinded them.

  Comb down his hair: look, look, it stands upright,

  Like lime-twigs16 set to catch my winged soul:

  Give me some drink, and bid the apothecary

  Bring the strong poison that I bought of18 him.

  KING HENRY VI O, thou eternal mover of the heavens,

  Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch:

  O beat away the busy meddling fiend21

  That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul,

  And from his bosom purge this black despair.

  WARWICK See how the pangs of death do make him grin24.

  SALISBURY Disturb him not: let him pass peaceably.

  KING HENRY VI Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be.

  Lord Card'nal, if thou think'st on heaven's bliss,

  Cardinal dies

  Hold up thy hand, make signal of thy hope.

  He dies and makes no sign: O God, forgive him.

  WARWICK So bad a death argues30 a monstrous life.

  KING HENRY VI Forbear to judge, for we are sinners all.

  Close32 up his eyes and draw the curtain close,

  And let us all to meditation33.

  Exeunt

  [Act 4 Scene 1]

  running scene 12

  Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance
goes off. Enter [a] Lieutenant, [a Master, a Master's Mate, Walter Whitmore; with] Suffolk [disguised and two Gentlemen as their prisoners] and others

  LIEUTENANT The gaudy, blabbing1 and remorseful day

  Is crept into the bosom of the sea:

  And now loud-howling wolves arouse3 the jades

  That drag the tragic melancholy night:

  Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging5 wings

  Clip6 dead men's graves, and from their misty jaws

  Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air:

  Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize8,

  For whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs9,

  Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,

  Or with their blood stain this discoloured11 shore.

  Pointing to First Gentleman

  Master, this prisoner freely give I thee,

  Pointing to Second Gentleman

  And thou that art his mate, make boot13 of this:

  The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

  Pointing to Suffolk To the Master

  FIRST GENTLEMAN What is my ransom, master, let me know?

  MASTER A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.

  To Second Gentleman

  MATE And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.

  To both Gentlemen

  LIEUTENANT What, think you much18 to pay two thousand crowns,

  And bear the name and port19 of gentlemen?

  WHITMORE Cut both the villains' throats, for die you shall:

  The lives of those which we have lost in fight

  Be counterpoised22 with such a petty sum.

  To the Master

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

  To the Mate

  SECOND GENTLEMAN And so will I, and write home for it straight.

  To Suffolk

  WHITMORE I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard25,

  And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die,

  And so should these, if I might have my will.

  LIEUTENANT Be not so rash: take ransom: let him live.

  SUFFOLK Look on my George29: I am a gentleman:

  Rate30 me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.

  WHITMORE And so am I: my name is Walter31 Whitmore.