William Shakespeare

“ As he stood by, whilest I, his forlorne Duchesse,
Was made a wonder, and a pointing stock
To euery idle Rascall follower.
But be thou milde, and blush not at my shame,
Nor stirre at nothing, till the Axe of Death
Hang ouer thee, as sure it shortly will.
For Suffolke, he that can doe all in all
With her, that hateth thee and hates vs all,
And Yorke, and impious Beauford, that false Priest,
Haue all lym'd Bushes to betray thy Wings,
And flye thou how thou canst, they'le tangle thee.
But feare not thou, vntill thy foot be snar'd,
Nor neuer seeke preuention of thy foes
Glost. ”

“ Thus Warre hath giuen thee peace, for y art still,
Peace with his soule, heauen if it be thy will.
Enter yong Clifford.
Clif. Shame and Confusion all is on the rout,
Feare frames disorder, and disorder wounds
Where it should guard. O Warre, thou sonne of hell,
Whom angry heauens do make their minister,
Throw in the frozen bosomes of our part,
Hot Coales of Vengeance. Let no Souldier flye.
He that is truly dedicate to Warre,
Hath no selfe-loue: nor he that loues himselfe,
Hath not essentially, but by circumstance
The name of Valour. ”

“ Ah Sancta Maiestas! who would not buy thee deere?
Let them obey, that knowes not how to Rule.
This hand was made to handle nought but Gold.
I cannot giue due action to my words,
Except a Sword or Scepter ballance it.
A Scepter shall it haue, haue I a soule,
On which Ile tosse the Fleure-de-Luce of France.
Enter Buckingham.
Whom haue we heere? Buckingham to disturbe me?
The king hath sent him sure: I must dissemble
Buc. Yorke, if thou meanest wel, I greet thee well
Yor. Humfrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting.
Art thou a Messenger, or come of pleasure
Buc. ”

“ Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,
And that my Soueraignes presence makes me milde,
I would, false murd'rous Coward, on thy Knee
Make thee begge pardon for thy passed speech,
And say, it was thy Mother that thou meant'st,
That thou thy selfe wast borne in Bastardie;
And after all this fearefull Homage done,
Giue thee thy hyre, and send thy Soule to Hell,
Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men
Suff. Thou shalt be waking, while I shed thy blood,
If from this presence thou dar'st goe with me
Warw. ”

“ When thou wert Regent for our Soueraigne,
Haue made thee fear'd and honor'd of the people,
Ioyne we together for the publike good,
In what we can, to bridle and suppresse
The pride of Suffolke, and the Cardinall,
With Somersets and Buckinghams Ambition,
And as we may, cherish Duke Humfries deeds,
While they do tend the profit of the Land
War. So God helpe Warwicke, as he loues the Land,
And common profit of his Countrey
Yor. And so sayes Yorke,
For he hath greatest cause
Salisbury. Then lets make hast away,
And looke vnto the maine
Warwicke. ”

“ Thou hast appointed Iustices of Peace, to call poore men before them, about matters they were not able to answer. Moreouer, thou hast put them in prison, and because they could not reade, thou hast hang'd them, when (indeede) onely for that cause they haue beene most worthy to liue. Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou not? Say. What of that? Cade. Marry, thou ought'st not to let thy horse weare a Cloake, when honester men then thou go in their Hose and Doublets
Dicke. And worke in their shirt to, as my selfe for example, that am a butcher
Say. ”

“ Oh thou eternall mouer of the heauens,
Looke with a gentle eye vpon this Wretch,
Oh beate away the busie medling Fiend,
That layes strong siege vnto this wretches soule,
And from his bosome purge this blacke dispaire
War. See how the pangs of death do make him grin
Sal. Disturbe him not, let him passe peaceably
King. Peace to his soule, if Gods good pleasure be.
Lord Card'nall, if thou think'st on heauens blisse,
Hold vp thy hand, make signall of thy hope.
He dies and makes no signe: Oh God forgiue him
War. ”

“ Bid Salsbury and Warwicke come to me.
Enter the Earles of Warwicke, and Salisbury.
Clif. Are these thy Beares? Wee'l bate thy Bears to death,
And manacle the Berard in their Chaines,
If thou dar'st bring them to the bayting place
Rich. Oft haue I seene a hot ore-weening Curre,
Run backe and bite, because he was with-held,
Who being suffer'd with the Beares fell paw,
Hath clapt his taile, betweene his legges and cride,
And such a peece of seruice will you do,
If you oppose your selues to match Lord Warwicke
Clif. ”

“ We will not leaue one Lord, one Gentleman:
Spare none, but such as go in clouted shooen,
For they are thrifty honest men, and such
As would (but that they dare not) take our parts
But. They are all in order, and march toward vs
Cade. But then are we in order, when we are most out of order. Come, march forward.
Alarums to the fight, wherein both the Staffords are slaine. Enter Cade and the rest.
Cade. Where's Dicke, the Butcher of Ashford?
But. Heere sir
Cade. ”

“ Medice teipsum, Protector see to't well, protect
your selfe
King. The Windes grow high,
So doe your Stomacks, Lords:
How irkesome is this Musick to my heart?
When such Strings iarre, what hope of Harmony?
I pray my Lords let me compound this strife.
Enter one crying a Miracle
Glost. What meanes this noyse?
Fellow, what Miracle do'st thou proclayme?
One. A Miracle, a Miracle
Suffolke. Come to the King, and tell him what Miracle
One. Forsooth, a blinde man at Saint Albones Shrine,
Within this halfe houre hath receiu'd his sight,
A man that ne're saw in his life before
King. ”

“ My Lord of Yorke, trie what your fortune is:
Th' vnciuill Kernes of Ireland are in Armes,
And temper Clay with blood of Englishmen.
To Ireland will you leade a Band of men,
Collected choycely, from each Countie some,
And trie your hap against the Irishmen?
Yorke. I will, my Lord, so please his Maiestie
Suff. Why, our Authoritie is his consent,
And what we doe establish, he confirmes:
Then, Noble Yorke, take thou this Taske in hand
Yorke. I am content: Prouide me Souldiers, Lords,
Whiles I take order for mine owne affaires
Suff. ”

“ Thus is poore Suffolke ten times banished,
Once by the King, and three times thrice by thee.
'Tis not the Land I care for, wer't thou thence,
A Wildernesse is populous enough,
So Suffolke had thy heauenly company:
For where thou art, there is the World it selfe,
With euery seuerall pleasure in the World:
And where thou art not, Desolation.
I can no more: Liue thou to ioy thy life;
My selfe no ioy in nought, but that thou liu'st.
Enter Vaux.
Queene. Whether goes Vaux so fast? ”

“ Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a Cloud:
And after Summer, euermore succeedes
Barren Winter, with his wrathfull nipping Cold;
So Cares and Ioyes abound, as Seasons fleet. ”

“ I beseech your Maiestie giue me leaue to goe;
Sorrow would sollace, and mine Age would ease
King. Stay Humfrey, Duke of Gloster,
Ere thou goe, giue vp thy Staffe,
Henry will to himselfe Protector be,
And God shall be my hope, my stay, my guide,
And Lanthorne to my feete:
And goe in peace, Humfrey, no lesse belou'd,
Then when thou wert Protector to thy King
Queene. I see no reason, why a King of yeeres
Should be to be protected like a Child,
God and King Henry gouerne Englands Realme:
Giue vp your Staffe, Sir, and the King his Realme
Glost. ”

“ War. Beauford, it is thy Soueraigne speakes to thee
Beau. Bring me vnto my Triall when you will.
Dy'de he not in his bed? Where should he dye?
Can I make men liue where they will or no?
Oh torture me no more, I will confesse.
Aliue againe? Then shew me where he is,
Ile giue a thousand pound to looke vpon him.
He hath no eyes, the dust hath blinded them.
Combe downe his haire; looke, looke, it stands vpright,
Like Lime-twigs set to catch my winged soule:
Giue me some drinke, and bid the Apothecarie
Bring the strong poyson that I bought of him
King. ”

“ Yorke. My Lord of Suffolke, within foureteene dayes
At Bristow I expect my Souldiers,
For there Ile shippe them all for Ireland
Suff. Ile see it truly done, my Lord of Yorke.
Exeunt.
Manet Yorke.
Yorke. Now Yorke, or neuer, steele thy fearfull thoughts,
And change misdoubt to resolution;
Be that thou hop'st to be, or what thou art;
Resigne to death, it is not worth th' enioying:
Let pale-fac't feare keepe with the meane-borne man,
And finde no harbor in a Royall heart.
Faster the [n] Spring-time showres, comes thoght on thoght,
And not a thought, but thinkes on Dignitie. ”

“ Let Yorke be Regent, I will yeeld to him
Warw. Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no,
Dispute not that, Yorke is the worthyer
Card. Ambitious Warwicke, let thy betters speake
Warw. The Cardinall's not my better in the field
Buck. All in this presence are thy betters, Warwicke
Warw. Warwicke may liue to be the best of all
Salisb. Peace Sonne, and shew some reason Buckingham
Why Somerset should be preferr'd in this?
Queene. Because the King forsooth will haue it so
Humf. Madame, the King is old enough himselfe
To giue his Censure: These are no Womens matters
Queene. ”

“ Thou hast most traiterously corrupted the youth of the Realme, in erecting a Grammar Schoole: and whereas before, our Fore-fathers had no other Bookes but the Score and the Tally, thou hast caused printing to be vs'd, and contrary to the King, his Crowne, and Dignity, thou hast built a Paper-Mill. It will be prooued to thy Face, that thou hast men about thee, that vsually talke of a Nowne and a Verbe, and such abhominable wordes, as no Christian eare can endure to heare. ”

“ I thanke thee Clifford: Say, what newes with thee?
Nay, do not fright vs with an angry looke:
We are thy Soueraigne Clifford, kneele againe;
For thy mistaking so, We pardon thee
Clif. This is my King Yorke, I do not mistake,
But thou mistakes me much to thinke I do,
To Bedlem with him, is the man growne mad
King. I Clifford, a Bedlem and ambitious humor
Makes him oppose himselfe against his King
Clif. He is a Traitor, let him to the Tower,
And chop away that factious pate of his
Qu. He is arrested, but will not obey:
His sonnes (he sayes) shall giue their words for him
Yor. ”

“ Cade. I am sorry for't: The man is a proper man of
mine Honour: vnlesse I finde him guilty he shall not die.
Come hither sirrah, I must examine thee: What is thy
name?
Clearke. Emanuell
But. They vse to writ it on the top of Letters: 'Twill
go hard with you
Cade. Let me alone: Dost thou vse to write thy name?
Or hast thou a marke to thy selfe, like a honest plain dealing
man?
Clearke. Sir I thanke God, I haue bin so well brought
vp, that I can write my name
All. He hath confest: away with him: he's a Villaine
and a Traitor
Cade. ”

“ To see my teares, and heare my deepe-fet groanes.
The ruthlesse Flint doth cut my tender feet,
And when I start, the enuious people laugh,
And bid me be aduised how I treade.
Ah Humfrey, can I beare this shamefull yoake?
Trowest thou, that ere Ile looke vpon the World,
Or count them happy, that enioyes the Sunne?
No: Darke shall be my Light, and Night my Day.
To thinke vpon my Pompe, shall be my Hell. ”

“ Enter Humfrey.
Humf. Now Lords, my Choller being ouer-blowne,
With walking once about the Quadrangle,
I come to talke of Common-wealth Affayres.
As for your spightfull false Obiections,
Proue them, and I lye open to the Law:
But God in mercie so deale with my Soule,
As I in dutie loue my King and Countrey.
But to the matter that we haue in hand:
I say, my Soueraigne, Yorke is meetest man
To be your Regent in the Realme of France
Suff. Before we make election, giue me leaue
To shew some reason, of no little force,
That Yorke is most vnmeet of any man
Yorke. ”

“ Being all descended to the labouring heart,
Who in the Conflict that it holds with death,
Attracts the same for aydance 'gainst the enemy,
Which with the heart there cooles, and ne're returneth,
To blush and beautifie the Cheeke againe. ”

“ Stoope to the blocke, then these knees bow to any,
Saue to the God of heauen, and to my King:
And sooner dance vpon a bloody pole,
Then stand vncouer'd to the Vulgar Groome.
True Nobility, is exempt from feare:
More can I beare, then you dare execute
Lieu. Hale him away, and let him talke no more:
Come Souldiers, shew what cruelty ye can
Suf. That this my death may neuer be forgot.
Great men oft dye by vilde Bezonions.
A Romane Sworder, and Bandetto slaue
Murder'd sweet Tully. Brutus Bastard hand
Stab'd Iulius Cæsar. Sauage Islanders
Pompey the Great, and Suffolke dyes by Pyrats. ”

“ To see how God in all his Creatures workes,
Yea Man and Birds are fayne of climbing high
Suff. No maruell, and it like your Maiestie,
My Lord Protectors Hawkes doe towre so well,
They know their Master loues to be aloft,
And beares his thoughts aboue his Faulcons Pitch
Glost. My Lord, 'tis but a base ignoble minde,
That mounts no higher then a Bird can sore:
Card. I thought as much, hee would be aboue the
Clouds
Glost. I my Lord Cardinall, how thinke you by that?
Were it not good your Grace could flye to Heauen?
King. The Treasurie of euerlasting Ioy
Card. ”

“ Iden. Why rude Companion, whatsoere thou be, I know thee not, why then should I betray thee? Is't not enough to breake into my Garden, And like a Theefe to come to rob my grounds: Climbing my walles inspight of me the Owner, But thou wilt braue me with these sawcie termes? Cade. Braue thee? I by the best blood that euer was broach'd, and beard thee to. Looke on mee well, I haue eate no meate these fiue dayes, yet come thou and thy fiue men, and if I doe not leaue you all as dead as a doore naile, I pray God I may neuer eate grasse more
Iden. ”