sm
 
 vM^ 5^ ' /^
 
 The Second Part of 
 King Henry VI.
 
 Copyright, 1901 
 
 By 
 
 THE UNIVERSITY SOCIETY
 
 Critical Comments. 
 I. 
 
 Argument. 
 
 0OLLE< 
 LiBRAf 
 
 I. Margaret of Anjou is brought over to England 
 and wedded to King Henry VI.; but — much to the con- 
 sternation of the King's uncle, Gloucester, the lord pro- 
 tector — she comes dowerless, and the duchies for which 
 Henry V. warred are suffered to remain in French hands. 
 Though the upright Gloucester's grief is strongly ut- 
 tered, he is not upheld when he unburdens it to the other 
 nobles. Instead, they make a temporary truce of their 
 own quarreling, which has proceeded continuously dur- 
 ing the young King's reign, and unite against the lord 
 protector. They find a ready ally in the Queen, who is 
 eager to secure unlimited control over her weak hus- 
 band. They make their first attack through Gloucester's 
 ambitious wife. She is betrayed into harbouring sorcerers 
 who raise a spirit that utters sayings against the heads 
 of the realm. She and the conjurers are taken into 
 custody. 
 
 II. The Duchess of Gloucester is brought to trial and 
 banished. Gloucester is deprived of his post of lord 
 protector, and is summoned before Parliament. 
 
 Meanwhile the strife between the houses of York and 
 Lancaster gathers force. The Duke of York convinces 
 the powerful earls of Warwick and Sahsbury of his 
 right to the crown. 
 
 III. Gloucester answers the summons and appears 
 before Parliament. He is accused of high treason and 
 committed to prison, and since his accusers can find no 
 evidence to support their charge against his integrity,
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 he is foully assassinated by direction of the Duke of 
 Suffolk. The populace, learning of the deed, are driven 
 to desperation, and storm the palace, demanding the 
 death or exile of Suffolk, who is forthwith banished, and 
 afterwards is slain at sea by pirates. 
 
 The powerless monarch's sway is marked by continued 
 losses. News comes of the loss of the last of the French 
 territories. Other tidings tell of an uprising in Ireland. 
 The lords, jealous of York's power, think to be rid of 
 him by sending him against the Irish. York, however, 
 is glad of the pretext to muster an army; and before he 
 sets sail he incites a rebellion at home under Jack Cade, 
 a Kentish labourer. 
 
 IV. After meeting with one or two small successes, 
 seizing London Bridge, and entering the city, Cade's 
 forces are dispersed by the royal troops. The populace 
 renew allegiance to the King, and sue for pardon, 
 which is granted. But a price is placed on the head of 
 the fugitive Cade, and he is slain. York's connection 
 with this rebellion has been hidden; but upon hearing 
 of its outcome he returns to England at the head of his 
 army, ostensibly to redress private wrongs, though really 
 to assist his claim to the throne. 
 
 V. The King holds parley with York near Black- 
 heath, but the conference ends in open defiance on the 
 part of the subject. The two armies meet in conflict 
 on the field of Saint Albans, where the King, who nov.' 
 represents the Lancastrians, is defeated and forced to fly 
 towards London. The victorious York and Warwick 
 resolve to march rapidly upon the capital. 
 
 McSpadden : Shakespearian Synopses. 
 
 II. 
 
 King Henry. 
 
 There is something of irony in the scene with wliich 
 the second part of Henry VI. opens. Suffolk, the Lance-
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 lot of this tragedy, has brought from France the Princess 
 Margaret, and the joy of the blameless King, upon re- 
 ceiving, at the cost of two hard-won provinces, this 
 terrible wife, who will " dandle him like a baby," has 
 in it something pitiable, something pathetic, and some- 
 thing ludicrous. The relations of the King to ^largaret 
 throughout, the play are delicately and profoundly con- 
 ceived. He clings to her as to something stronger than 
 himself; he dreads her as a boy might dread some 
 formidable master: — 
 
 Exeter. Here comes the Queen, whose looks betray her anger : 
 
 I '11 steal away. 
 Henry. And so will I. 
 
 Yet through his own freedom from passion he derives a 
 sense of superiority to his wife; and after she has dashed 
 him all over with the spray of her violent anger and her 
 scorn, Henry may be seen mildly wiping away the drops, 
 insufferably placable, offering excuses for the vituper- 
 ation and the insults which he has received: — 
 
 " Poor Queen, how love to me and to her son 
 Hath made her break out into terms of rage ! " 
 
 Among his " wolfish earls " Henry is in constant terror, 
 not of being himself torn to pieces, but of their flying at 
 one another's throats. Violent scenes, disturbing the 
 cloistral peace which it would please him to see reign 
 throughout the universe, are hateful and terrible to Henry. 
 He rides out hawking with his Queen and Suffolk, the 
 Cardinal and Gloucester; some of the riders hardly 
 able for an hour to conceal their emulation and their 
 hate. Henry takes a languid interest in the sport, but 
 all occasions supply food for his contemplative piety; 
 he suffers from a certain incontinence of devout feeling, 
 and now the falcons set him moralizing: — 
 
 " But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, 
 And what a pitch she flew above the rest ! 
 To see how God in all his creatures works ! "
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 A moment after and the peers, with Margaret among 
 them, are bandying furious words. Henry's anguish is 
 extreme, but he hopes that something may be done by a 
 few moral reflections suitable to the occasion: — 
 
 I pr'ythee, peace, 
 Good Queen, and whet not on these furious peers, 
 For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. 
 Cardinal. Let me be blessed for the peace I make 
 Against this proud Protector with my sword. 
 
 The angry colloquy is presently silenced by the cry, 
 "A miracle! a miracle!" and the impostor Simcox and 
 his wife appear. Henry, with his fatuous proclivity 
 towards the edifying, rejoices in this manifestation of 
 God's grace in the restoration to sight of a man born 
 blind:— 
 
 " Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, 
 Although by his sight his sin be multiplied." 
 
 (That is to say, " If we had the good-fortune to be de- 
 prived of all our senses and appetites, we should have 
 a fair chance of being quite spotless; yet let us thank 
 God for his mysterious goodness to this man! ") And 
 once more, when the Protector, by a slight exercise of 
 shrewdness and common sense, has unmasked the rogue 
 and has had him whipped, extreme is the anguish of the 
 King:— 
 
 K. Henry. O God! seest thou this, and bearest so long? 
 Queen. It made, me laugh to see the villain run. 
 
 But the feeble saint, who is cast down upon the occur- 
 rence of a piece of vulgar knavery, can himself abandon 
 to butchers the noblest life in England. His conscience 
 assures him that Gloucester is innocent ; he hopes the 
 Duke will be able to clear himself ; but Gloucester's judges 
 are Suffolk, " with his cloudy brow," sharp Buckingham, 
 
 " And dogged York, that reaches at the moon." 
 
 Henry is not equal to confronting such terrible faces as 
 these; and so, trusting to God, who will do all things
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 well, he slinks out of the Parliament shedding tears, and 
 leaves Gloucester to his fate: — 
 
 " My lords, what to your wisdom seemeth best, 
 Do, or undo, as if ourself were here." 
 
 When Henry hears that his uncle is dead, he swoons; 
 he suspects that the noble old man has been foully dealt 
 with; but judgement belongs to God; possibly his sus- 
 picion may be a false one; how terrible if he should 
 sully his purity of heart with a false suspicion! may God 
 forgive him if he do so! And thus humouring his tim- 
 orous, irritable conscience, Henry is incapable of action, 
 and allows things to take their course. 
 
 DowDEN : Shakspere, 
 
 III. 
 
 Margaret. 
 
 As regards the conception of the character of the 
 Queen which is first revealed to us in this part, some 
 commentators have blamed Shakspeare for having un- 
 necessarily made her a hideous Megaera, and maintain 
 it to be especially intolerable to see the pious, unfortunate 
 King so openly represented as a deceived husband. It 
 is certainly true that in Margaret's character we still have 
 the echo of those gloomy sounds of the horrible which 
 in Titus Andronicus we had in the fullest reverberations, 
 and this again proves with tolerable certainty that the 
 two last parts of Henry VI. likewise belong to Shak- 
 speare's earlier works. It is also true that adultery 
 did not require to be added to the other crimes of the 
 Queen. And yet without it we should not have received 
 such a perfect insight into her character, which is so 
 important for the whole play. For it is self-evident that 
 such an energetic, violent and thoroughly unfeminine 
 nature, with such passionateness and heat of temper, 
 could not have had any affection for the cold, unmanly
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 and effeminate King, or have remained faithful to him. 
 Hence even though liistory has not expressly told us of 
 it — however, if not mentioned by Holinshed (as Gervinus 
 says) it is expressly stated in Grafton's (Hall's) Chron- 
 icle — the Poet at all events could not be silent on a 
 subject, which, as a matter of consistency, was demanded 
 by history. Aloreover, this terrible energy and enor- 
 mity, this shameless display of evil, such as is here ex- 
 hibited in a woman, is no doubt more dramatic, nay the 
 very representation of it is more moral than the secret 
 sin which creeps along in darkness, and the unexpressed 
 suspicion of which must be entertained by the spectators. 
 In fact, the Poet required an embodiment of the pre- 
 vailing vices and crimes, a character in which was con- 
 centrated the whole demoralisation of the age, in order 
 to give a description of the times, and to unfold the mean- 
 ing and significance of his drama in the fullest manner. 
 Ulrici : Shakspcare's Dramatic Art. 
 
 Among the arguments against the authenticity of these 
 plays [the three parts of Henry TV.], the character of 
 Margaret of Anjou has not been adduced, and yet to 
 those who have studied Shakspeare in his own spirit, it 
 will appear the most conclusive of all. When we com- 
 pare her with his other female characters, we are struck 
 at once by the want of family likeness; Shakspeare was 
 not always equal, but he had not two manners, as they 
 say of painters. I discern his hand in particular parts, 
 but I cannot recognize his spirit in the conception of 
 the whole: he may have laid on some of the colours, 
 but the original design has a certain hardness and heavi- 
 ness, very unlike his usual style. Margaret of Anjou, 
 as exhibited in these tragedies, is a dramatic portrait of 
 considerable truth, and vigour, and consistency — but she 
 is not one of Shakspeare's women. He who knew so 
 well in what true greatness of spirit consisted — who 
 could excite our respect and sympathy even for a Lady 
 
 6
 
 KING HENRY VL Comments 
 
 Macbeth, would never have given us a heroine without 
 a touch of heroism; he would not have portrayed a high- 
 hearted woman, struggling unsubdued against the 
 strangest vicissitudes of fortune, meeting reverses and 
 disasters, such as would have broken the most masculine 
 spirit, with unshaken constancy, yet left her without 
 a single personal quality which could excite our interest 
 in her bravely endured misfortunes; and this too in the 
 very face of history. He would not have given us, in 
 lieu of the magnanimous queen, the subtle and accom- 
 plished French woman, a mere " Amazonian trull," with 
 every coarser feature of depravity and ferocity ; he 
 would have redeemed her from unmingled detestation; 
 he would have breathed into her some of his own sweet 
 spirit — he would have given the woman a soul. 
 
 The old chronicler Hall informs us, that Queen Mar- 
 garet " excelled all other as well in beauty and favour, 
 as in wit and policy, and was in stomach and courage 
 more like to a man than to a woman." He adds that, 
 after the espousals of Henry and Margaret, " the King's 
 friends fell from him; the lords of the realm fell in di- 
 vision among themselves ; the Commons rebelled against 
 their natural prince; fields were foughten; many thou- 
 sands slain; and, finally, the king was deposed, and his 
 son slain, and his queen sent home again with as much 
 misery and sorrow as she was received with pomp and 
 triumph." 
 
 This passage seems to have furnished the ground- 
 work of the character as it is developed in these plays 
 with no great depth or skill. Margaret is portrayed 
 with all the exterior graces of her sex; as bold and 
 artful, with spirit to dare, resolution to act, and fortitude 
 to endure ; but treacherous, haughty, dissembling, vindic- 
 tive, and fierce. The bloody struggle for power in which 
 she was engaged, and the companionship of the ruthless 
 iron men around her, seem to have left her noth- 
 ing of womanhood but the heart of a mother — that last 
 stronghold of our feminine nature! So far the character
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 is consistently drawn : it has something of the power, 
 but none of the flowing ease, of Shakspeare's manner. 
 There are fine materials not well appHed; there is poetry 
 in some of the scenes and speeches; the situations are 
 often exceedingly poetical; but in the character of Mar- 
 garet herself there is not an atom of poetry. In her 
 artificial dignity, her plausible wit, and her endless vol- 
 ubility, she would remind us of some of the most admired 
 heroines of French tragedy, but for that unlucky box 
 on the ear which she gives the Duchess of Gloucester — a 
 violation of tragic decorum, which of course destroys all 
 parallel. 
 
 Having said thus much, I shall point out some of the 
 finest and most characteristic scenes in which Margaret 
 appears. The speech in which she expresses her scorn 
 of her meek husband, and her impatience of the power 
 exercised by those fierce, overbearing barons, York, 
 Salisbury, Warwick, Buckingham, is very fine, and con- 
 veys as faithful an idea of those feudal times as of the 
 woman who speaks. The burst of female spite with 
 which she concludes, is admirable : — 
 
 Not all these lords do vex me half so much 
 
 As that proud dame, the Lord Protector's wife. 
 
 She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, 
 
 More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife. 
 
 Strangers in court do take her for the queen : 
 
 She bears a duke's revenues on her back, 
 
 And in her heart she scorns our poverty. 
 
 Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her? 
 
 Contemptuous base-born callat as she is, 
 
 She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, 
 
 The very train of her worst wearing gown 
 
 Was better worth than all my father's lands 
 
 Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. 
 
 Her intriguing spirit, the facility with which she enters 
 into the murderous confederacy ag'ainst the good Duke 
 Humphrey, the artful plausibility with which she en- 
 deavours to turn suspicion from herself — confounding 
 
 8
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 her gentle consort by mere dint of words — are exceed- 
 ingly characteristic, but not the less revolting. 
 
 Her criminal love for Suffolk (which is a dramatic in- 
 cident, not an historic fact) gives rise to the beautiful 
 parting scene in the third act; a scene which it is im- 
 possible to read without a thrill of emotion, hurried 
 away by that power and pathos which forces us to sym- 
 pathize with the eloquence of grief, yet excites not a 
 momentary interest either for iNIargaret or her lover. 
 The ungoverned fury of Margaret in the first instance, 
 the manner in which she calls on Sufifolk to curse his 
 enemies, and then shrinks back overcome by the violence 
 of the spirit she had herself evoked, and terrified by the 
 vehemence of his imprecations; the transition in her 
 mind from the extremity of rage to tears and melting 
 fondness, have been pronounced, and justly, to be in 
 Shakspeare's own manner: — 
 
 Go, speak not to me — even now begone. 
 
 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 ! 
 
 which is followed by that beautiful and intense burst of 
 passion from Sufifolk — 
 
 'Tis not the land I care for, wert thou thence; 
 
 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. 
 
 Mrs. Jameson : Characteristics of Women. 
 
 IV. 
 The Cade Scenes. 
 
 That insurrection comes in aptly as the first outbreak 
 of the great social schism, the elements of which had
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 been long working in secret, and growing to a head. 
 The passages of humour, interspersed through the scenes 
 of Cade and his followers, being mostly the same in the 
 original form of the play, yield strong evidence in the 
 question of authorship. It seems hard to believe that 
 any one but Shakespeare could have written them, no 
 instances in that line at all approaching these having 
 been elsewhere given by any other writer of that time. 
 For in poetry merely, Shakespeare, though immeasurably 
 above any or all of his senior contemporaries, differs 
 from them but in degree; but in the article of humour 
 he shows a difference from them in kind. And it is 
 remarkable that the instinct and impulse of humour seem 
 in this case to have put him upon blending together the 
 elements of two widely-separated passages of history: 
 the persons and events being those of the insurrection 
 known as Jack Cade's; while the sentiments and de- 
 signs are the same, in part, which became matter of 
 history some seventy years before in the rebellion of 
 Wat Tyler and Jack Straw. This curious fact was first 
 pointed out by Mr. Courtenay, who cites the following 
 from Holinshed's account of the earlier insurrection: 
 '' They began to show proof of those things which they 
 had before conceived in their minds — beheading all such 
 men of law as they might catch, alleging that the land 
 could never enjoy her true liberty till all those sorts 
 of people were despatched out of the way. This talk 
 liked well the ears of the common people, and they pur- 
 posed to burn and destroy all records, evidences, court- 
 rolls, and other monuments, that their landlords might 
 not have whereby to challenge any right at their hands. 
 What wickedness was it, to compel teachers of children in 
 grammar schools to swear never to instruct any in this 
 art! For it was dangerous among them to be known 
 for one that was learned; and more dangerous, if any 
 one were found with a penner and ink-horn at his side. 
 At Blackheath, when the greatest multitude was there 
 
 10
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 got together, John Ball made a sermon, taking this sav- 
 ing for his theme: — 
 
 ' When Adam delv'd and Eve span, 
 Who was then a gentleman? ' " 
 
 Hl'dsox : Tlic JVorks of Shakespeare. 
 
 The forcible realism, the simple vigour and lifehke 
 luimour of these scenes, cannot, it is urged, be due to 
 any other [than Shakespeare] so early at work in the 
 field of comedy. A critic desirous to press this point 
 might further insist on the likeness or identity of tone 
 between these and all later scenes in which Shake- 
 speare has taken on him to paint the action and passion 
 of an insurgent populace. With him, it might too plau- 
 sibly be argued, the people once risen in revolt for any 
 just or unjust cause is always the mob, the unwashed 
 rabble, the swinish multitude; full as he is of wise and 
 gracious tenderness for individual character, of swift 
 and ardent pity for personal suffering, he has no deeper 
 or finer feeling than scorn for " the beast with many 
 heads " that fawn and butt at bidding as they are swayed 
 by the vain and violent breath of any worthless herds- 
 man. For the drovers who guide and misguide at will 
 the turbulent flocks of their mutinous cattle his store 
 of bitter words is inexhaustible; it is a treasure-house of 
 oblocjuy which can never be drained dry. 
 
 Swinburne : A Study of Shakespeare, 
 
 I cannot persuade myself that these [Cade scenes] 
 were not from the very first the work of Shakespeare. 
 It is evident that they cannot proceed from the pen of 
 I^Iarlowe. An attempt has been made to attribute them 
 to Greene, on the ground that there are other folk-scenes 
 in his works which display a similar strain of humour. 
 But the difiference is enormous. It is true that the text 
 here follows the chronicle with extraordinary fidelity; 
 but it was precisely in this ingenious adaptation of mate-
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 rial that Shakespeare always showed his strength. And 
 these scenes answer so completely to all the other folk- 
 scenes in Shakespeare, and are so obviously the outcome 
 of the habit of political thought which runs through his 
 whole life, becoming ever more and more pronounced, 
 that we cannot possibly accept them as showing only 
 the trivial alterations and retouches which elsewhere 
 distinguish his text from the older version. 
 
 Brandes : William Shakespeare. 
 
 V. 
 
 The Enveloping Nemesis. 
 
 The subject of the second part of Henry VI. is the 
 progress of disorder in the country consequent on the 
 weak character of the King, his want of every spark of 
 kingly, national or even manly spirit. Of a devout ten- 
 dency, his religious feelings have not the energy to rise 
 from a pious ejaculation to a fervent prayer, still less 
 to stimulate a really conscientious action. Selfishly and 
 imprudently he married Margaret to gratify a passion 
 foolishly adopted at second hand, and makes no effort 
 to control a wife whose vague animosities hurry him to 
 destruction ; he deserts Gloucester in base cravenhearted- 
 ness, and when he is murdered almost under his eyes, 
 banishes the murderer Suffolk only when compelled by 
 the indignant outbreak of the commons, and then from 
 no higher motive than apprehension of consequences 
 to himself. Afterwards he is as ready to purchase his 
 own tranquillity by the sacrifice of the rights of his son ; 
 and thus on the strength of harmlessness and freedom 
 from active vice, he brings the country into civil war, and 
 takes rank as a saint. The character of Gloucester is 
 finely contrasted with that of the King : he has a reputa- 
 tion for goodness — the good Duke Humphrey, as the 
 King for saintship ; and his goodness, though of more 
 genuine quality, is at the last as nugatory from like defect 
 
 12
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 of energy. He laments the base forfeiture of national 
 honour, that never gives the King concern, yet does 
 nothing worthy of his position to save it, is utterly inca- 
 pable of coping with the ill-conditioned Cardinal, and 
 descends to a useless and degrading brawl, and is at last 
 his victim, and is as unable to rule, or guide, or protect 
 his wife, as Henry himself. Such a pretence of govern- 
 ment is entirely out of harmony with the genius of the 
 country both in commonalty and nobility, and both 
 classes become agitated sympathetically. The men of 
 Kent are represented as rising in disgust and contempt 
 for the ordinance of a bookish priestlike king and coun- 
 sellors, who acquiesce in the loss of conquests of a bolder 
 monarch; and a powerful confederacy of nobles lends 
 aid to the claimant of the throne by the elder line, who 
 certainly possesses many qualities that are more worthy 
 of power, though as usual in history they can only com- 
 mand power through violence and fraud, that bring on 
 a Nemesis behind them. The crown that came to the 
 line of Lancaster, through the dissolute misgovernment 
 of Richard H. falls from it again through the misgovern- 
 ment of the factitious piety of an enervate devotee. 
 Lloyd : Critical Essays on the Plays of Shakespeare. 
 
 VI. 
 
 A Great Advance. 
 
 The second part of Henry VI. is manifestly a great 
 advance upon the first, and that in nearly all the par- 
 ticulars of dramatic excellence. The several members 
 are well knit together; the characterization is bold, but, 
 in the main, firm and steady; the action clear, free, and 
 generally carried on in that consecutiveness that every 
 later part seems the natural growth and issue of what 
 had gone before^ Much of this superiority, no doubt, 
 was owing to the nature of the materials, which, besides 
 yielding a greater variety of interest, were of themselves 
 
 13
 
 Comments THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 more limber and pliant to the shaping of art, and pre- 
 sented less to distract and baffle the powers of dramatic 
 assortment and composition. The losses in France 
 having been despatched in the former play, nothing of 
 them remained for the Poet's use, but the domestic irrita- 
 tions they had engendered; which irritations were as so 
 many eggs of discord in the nest of Enghsh life, and 
 Queen Margaret the hot-breasted fury that hatched 
 them into effect. The hatching process is the main sub- 
 ject of this play, and to that end the representation is 
 ordered with considerable skill. 
 
 Hudson : The Works of Shakespeare. 
 
 VII. 
 
 Shakespeare and Others, 
 
 In the earliest form known to us of this play It should 
 seem that we have traces of Shakespeare's handiwork, 
 in the latest that we find evidence of Marlowe's. But 
 it would be something too extravagant for the veriest 
 wind-sucker among commentators to start a theory 
 that a revision was made of his original work by Marlowe 
 after additions had been made to it by Shakespeare; 
 yet . . . the most unmistakable signs of Marlowe's 
 handiwork, the passages which show most plainly the 
 personal and present seal of his genius, belong to the 
 play only in its revised form. 
 
 Swinburne : A Study of Shakespeare. 
 
 There is on the whole no difficulty in distinguishing 
 the work of other hands in the old texts. We can en- 
 joy, point by point, not only Shakespeare's superiority, 
 but his peculiar style, as we here find it in the very proc- 
 ess of development; and we can study his whole method 
 of work in the text which he ultimately produces. 
 
 We have here an almost unique opportunity of ob- 
 serving him in the character of a critical artist. We see 
 
 14
 
 KING HENRY VI. Comments 
 
 what improvements he makes by a trivial retouch, or 
 a mere rearrangement of words. Thus, when Gloucester 
 says of his wife (11. iv.) — 
 
 " Uneath may she endure the flinty streets. 
 To tread them with her tender-feeling feet," 
 
 all his sympathy speaks in these words. In the old text 
 it is she who says this of herself. In York's great so- 
 liloquy in the first act, beginning "Anjou and Elaine are 
 given to the French," the first twenty-four lines are 
 Shakespeare's; the rest belong to the old text. From 
 the second ''Anjou and Maine" onwards, the verse is 
 conventional and monotonous; the meaning ends with 
 the end of each line, and a pause, as it w^ere, ensues; 
 whereas the verse of the opening passage is full of dra- 
 matic movement, life, and fire. 
 
 Braxdes : JVilliain Shakespeare. 
 
 It is unwise to go beyond the extremely strong pre- 
 sumption that Alarlowe, at one point or other in the 
 development of the play, impressed his genius on the 
 materials and helped to give them their present shape. 
 The characters of Margaret, of Suffolk, of York, of Rich- 
 ard, perhaps owe as much in execution to Shakespeare's 
 dramatic grip as to Marlowe's fiery rhetoric; but their 
 first conception was alm.ost certainly Alarlowe's. The 
 boldness with which the portentous figure of Richard is 
 made to dominate the entire latter half of the action in 
 defiance of chronology and of his traditional character is 
 in keeping with the splendid lawlessness of Marlowe in 
 his dealings with history. Above all, Marlowe must 
 be credited with the powerful tragic motive of Suffolk's 
 intrigue w^ith the Queen, of which Holinshed says no 
 word. To Shakespeare such a situation was at all times 
 unattractive; but the recent painter of the guilty loves 
 of Isabel the queen and young Mortimer was keenly 
 alive to its tragic force. 
 
 Herford: The Eversley Shakespeare. 
 
 15
 
 DRAMATIS PERSONAE. 
 
 King Henry tiie Sixth. 
 
 Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, his uncle. 
 
 Cardinal Beaufort, Bishop of Winchester, great-uncle tu 
 
 the King. 
 Richard Plantagenet, Duke of York. 
 Edward and Richard, his sons. 
 Duke of Somerset. 
 Duke of Suffolk. 
 Duke of Buckingham. 
 Lord Clifford. 
 Young Clifford, his son. 
 Earl of Salisbury. 
 Earl of Warwick. 
 Lord Scales. 
 Lord Say. 
 
 Sir Humphrey Stafford and William Stafford, his brother. 
 Sir John Stanley, 
 Vaux. 
 
 Matthew Goffe. 
 A Sea-captain, Master, and Master's-Mate, and Walter 
 
 Whitmore. 
 Two Gentlemen, prisoners with Suffolk. 
 John Hume and John Southwell, priests. 
 BoLiNGBROKE, a conjurcr. 
 
 Thomas Horner, an armourer. Peter, his man. 
 Clerk of Chatham. Mayor of Saint Alban's. 
 Simpcox, an impostor. 
 Alexander Iden, a Kentish gentleman. 
 Jack Cade, a rebel. 
 George Bevis, John Holland, Dick the butcher. Smith the 
 
 zveaver, Michael, etc., followers of Cade. 
 Two Murderers. 
 
 Margaret, Queen to King Henry. 
 Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester. 
 Margaret Jourdain, a zvitch. 
 Wife to Simpcox. 
 
 Lords, Ladies, and Attendants, Petitioners, Aldermen, a Her- 
 ald, a Beadle, Sheriff, and Ofificers, Citizens, 'Prentices. 
 Falconers, Guards, Soldiers, Messengers, etc. 
 
 A Spirit. 
 
 Scene: England. 
 
 i6
 
 The Second Part of 
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 London. The palace. 
 
 Flourish of trumpets: then hautboys. Enter, the King, 
 Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester, Salisbury, Warzvick, 
 and Cardinal Beaufort, on the one side ; The Queen, 
 Suffolk, York, Somerset, and Buckingham, on the 
 other. 
 
 Suf. As by your high imperial majesty 
 
 I had in charge at my depart for France, 
 
 As procurator to your excellence, 
 
 To marry Princess Margaret for your grace. 
 
 So, in the famous ancient city Tours, 
 
 In presence of the Kings of France and Sicil, ' 
 
 The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretagne and 
 
 Alencon, 
 Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend 
 
 bishops, 
 I have perform'd my task and was espoused ; 
 And humbly now upon my bended knee, lo 
 
 In sight of England and her lorldly peers, 
 Deliver up my title in the queen 
 
 To your most gracious hands, that are the substance 
 Of that great shadow I did represent ; 
 
 17
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 The happiest gift that ever marquess gave, 
 The fairest queen that ever king received. 
 
 King. Suffolk, arise. \\' elcome, Queen Margaret : 
 I can express no kinder sign of love 
 Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life, 
 Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness ! 20 
 
 For thou hast given me in this beauteous face 
 A world of earthly blessings to my soul, 
 If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. 
 
 Queen. Great King of England and my gracious lord, 
 The mutual conference that my mind hath had. 
 By day, by night, waking and in my dreams. 
 In courtly company or at my beads. 
 With you, mine alder-liefest sovereign, 
 Makes me the bolder to salute my king 
 With ruder terms, such as my wit affords 30 
 
 And over- joy of heart doth minister. 
 
 King. Her sight did ravish ; but her grace in speech, 
 Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty. 
 Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys ; 
 Such is the fulness of my heart's content. 
 Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love. 
 
 All [kneeling]. Long live Queen ^largaret, England's 
 happiness ! 
 
 Queen. We thank you all. [Flourish. 
 
 Snf. My lord protector, so it please your grace, 
 
 Here are the articles of contracted peace 40 
 
 Between our sovereign and the French king Charles, 
 For eighteen months concluded by consent. 
 
 Glou. [Reads] ' Imprimis, It is agreed between the 
 French king Charles and William de la Pole, 
 Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King 
 
 18
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 of England, that the said Henry shall espouse 
 the Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King 
 of Naples, Sicilia and Jerusalem, and crown her 
 Queen of England ere the thirtieth of May next 
 ensuing. Item, that the duchy of Anjou and the 50 
 county of Maine shall be released and delivered 
 to the king her father — ' 
 
 [Lets the paper fall. 
 
 King, Uncle, how now ! 
 
 Glou. Pardon me, gracious lord ; 
 
 Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart, 
 And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no further. 
 
 Ki]ig. Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. 
 
 Car. [Reads] ' Item, It is further agreed between 
 them, that the duchies of Anjou and Maine 
 shall be released and dehvered over to the king 
 her father, and she sent over of the King of 60 
 England's own proper cost and charges, with- 
 out having any dowry.' 
 
 King. They please us well. Lord marquess, kneel down : 
 We here create thee the first duke of vSuffolk, 
 And gird the with the sword. Cousin of York, 
 We here discharge your grace from being rep^ent 
 r the parts of France, till term of eighteen months 
 Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester, 
 Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, 
 Salisbury, and Warwick ; 70 
 
 We thank you all for this great favour done, 
 In entertainment to my princely queen. 
 Come, let us in, and with all speed provide 
 To see her coronation be perform'd. 
 
 [Exeunt King, Queen, and Suffolk. 
 
 Clou. Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, 
 
 19
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, 
 
 Your grief, the common grief of all the land. 
 
 What ! did my brother Henry spend his youth. 
 
 His valour, coin, and people, in the wars? 
 
 Did he so often lodge in open field, 80 
 
 In winter's cold and summer's parching heat, 
 
 To conquer France, his true inheritance? 
 
 And did my brother Bedford toil his wits. 
 
 To keep by policy what Henry got ? 
 
 Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, 
 
 Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, 
 
 Received deep scars in France and Normandy? 
 
 Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself. 
 
 With all the learned council of the realm, 
 
 Studied so long, sat in the council-house 90 
 
 Early and late, debating to and fro 
 
 How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe. 
 
 And had his highness in his infancy 
 
 Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? 
 
 And shall these labours and these honours die? 
 
 Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance. 
 
 Your deeds of war and all our counsel die? 
 
 O peers of England, shameful is this league ! 
 
 Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, 
 
 Blotting your names from books of memory, 100 
 
 Razing the characters of your renown. 
 
 Defacing monuments of conquer'd France, 
 
 Undoing all, as all had never been ! 
 
 Car. Nephew, what means this passionate discourse. 
 This peroration with such circumstance ? 
 For France, 'tis ours ; and we will keep it still. 
 
 Clou. Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can; 
 
 20
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act 1. Sc. i. 
 
 But now it is impossible we should : 
 Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, 
 Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine no 
 
 Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style 
 Agrees not with the leanness of his purse. 
 
 Sal. Now, by the death of Him that died for all. 
 These counties were the keys of Normandy. 
 But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son ? 
 
 War. For grief that they are past recovery : 
 
 For, were there hope to conquer them again, 
 
 My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. 
 
 Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both ; 
 
 Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer : 
 
 And are the cities, that I got with wounds, 121 
 
 Deliver'd up again with peaceful words ? 
 
 Mort Dieu ? 
 
 York. For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate. 
 That dims the honour of this warlike isle ! 
 France should have torn and rent my very heart. 
 Before I would have yielded to this league. 
 I never read but England's kings have had 
 Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives ; 
 And our King Henry gives away his own, 130 
 
 To match with her that brings no vantages. 
 
 Glou. A proper jest, and never heard before. 
 
 That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth 
 
 For costs and charges in transporting her ! 
 
 She should have stay'd in France and starved in 
 
 France, 
 Before — 
 
 Car. My lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot : 
 It was the pleasure of my lord the king.
 
 Act I. 3c. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glou. My lord of Winchester, I know your mind ; 
 
 'Tis not my speeches that you do misHke, 140 
 
 But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye. 
 
 Rancour will out : proud prelate, in thy face 
 
 I see thy fury : if I longer stay. 
 
 We shall begin our ancient bickerings. 
 
 Lordings, farewell ; and say, when I am gone, 
 
 I prophesied France will be lost ere long. [Exit. 
 
 Car. So, there goes our protector in a rage. 
 'Tis known to you he is mine enemy, 
 Nay, more, an enemy unto you all, 
 And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. 150 
 
 Consider, lords, he is the next of blood. 
 And heir apparent to the English crown : 
 Had Henry got an empire by his marriage, 
 And all the wealthy kingdoms of the west, 
 There 's reason he should be displeased at it. 
 Look to it, lords ; let not his smoothing words 
 Bewitch your hearts ; be wise and circumspect. 
 What though the common people favour him, 
 Calling him ' Humphrey, the good Duke of Glou- 
 cester,' 
 Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice, 
 ' Jesu maintain your royal excellence! ' 161 
 
 With ' God preserve the good Duke Humphrey ! ' 
 I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss. 
 He will be found a dangerous protector. 
 
 Buck. Why should he, then, protect our sovereign. 
 He being of age to govern of himself ? 
 Cousin of Somerset, join you with me, 
 And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk, 
 We '11 quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat.
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act LSc. i. 
 
 Car. This weighty business will not brook delay; 170 
 
 I '11 to the Duke of Suffolk presently. [Exit. 
 
 Som. Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride 
 And greatness of his place be grief to us, 
 Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal : 
 His insolence is more intolerable 
 Than all the princes in the land beside : 
 If Gloucester be displaced, he '11 be protector. 
 
 Buck. Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector, 
 Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal. 
 
 [EA'Cioif Buckinghaui and Somerset. 
 
 Sal. Pride went before, ambition follows him. 180 
 
 While these do labour for their own preferment, 
 Behoves it us to labour for the realm. 
 I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester 
 Did bear him like a noble gentleman. 
 Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal, 
 More like a soldier than a man o' the church, 
 As stout and proud as he were lord of all, 
 Swear like a ruffian, and demean himself 
 Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. 
 Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age, 190 
 
 Thy deeds, thy plainness, and thy housekeeping, 
 Hath won the greatest favour of the commons. 
 Excepting none but good Duke Humphrey : 
 And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, 
 In bringing them to civil discipline, 
 Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, 
 When thou wert regent for our sovereign, 
 Have made thee fear'd and honoured of the people : 
 Join we together, for the public good, 
 In what we can, to bridle and suppress 200 
 
 22,
 
 Act I. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 The pride of Suffolk and the cardinal, 
 With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition ; 
 And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey's deeds, 
 While they do tend the profit of the land. 
 
 War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land. 
 And common profit of his country ! 
 
 York. [Aside] And so says York, for he hath greatest 
 cause. 
 
 Sal. Then let 's make haste away, and look unto the 
 main. 
 
 War. Unto the main ! O father, Maine is lost ; 
 
 That Maine which by main force Warwick did win, 
 And would have kept so long as breath did last ! 211 
 Main chance, father, you meant ; but I meant Maine, 
 Which I will win from France, or else be slain. 
 
 [Exeunt Warwick and Salisbury. 
 
 York. Anjou and Maine are given to the French ; 
 Paris is lost ; the state of Normandy 
 Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone : 
 Suffolk concluded on the articles. 
 The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleased 
 To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. 
 I cannot blame them all : what is 't to them ? 220 
 
 'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. 
 Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage, 
 And purchase friends and give to courtezans. 
 Still revelling like lords till all be gone ; 
 While as the silly owner of the goods 
 Weeps over them and wrings his hapless hands. 
 And shakes his head and trembling stands aloof. 
 While all is shared and all is borne away. 
 Ready to starve and dare not touch his own : 
 24
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. i. 
 
 So York must sit and fret and bite his tongue, 230 
 While his own lands are bargained for and sold. 
 Methinks the realms of England, France and Ireland 
 Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood 
 As did the fatal brand Althaea burn'd 
 Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. 
 Anjou and Maine both given unto the French ! 
 Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, 
 Even as I have of fertile England's soil. 
 A day will come when York shall claim his own ; 
 And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts 240 
 
 And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, 
 And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown, 
 For that 's the golden mark I seek to hit : 
 Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right, 
 Nor hold the sceptre in his childish fist, 
 Nor wear the diadem upon his head, 
 Whose church-like humours fits not for a crown. 
 Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve : 
 Watch thou and wake when others be asleep. 
 To pry into the secrets of the state ; 250 
 
 Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love. 
 With his new bride and England's dear-bought queen, 
 And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars : 
 Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose. 
 With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed ; 
 And in my standard bear the arms of York, 
 To grapple with the house of Lancaster ; 
 And, force perforce, I '11 make him yield the crown, 
 Whose bookish rule hath puU'd iair England down. 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 25
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 The Duke of Gloucester's house. 
 Enter Duke Humphrey and his ivife Eleanor. 
 
 DucJi. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn, 
 Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load ? 
 Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows. 
 As frowning at the favours of the world ? 
 Why are thine eyes fix'd to the sullen earth, 
 Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight ? 
 What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem. 
 Enchased with all the honours of the world ? 
 If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face, 
 Until thy head be circled with the same. lo 
 
 Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold. 
 What, is 't too short ? I '11 lengthen it with mine ; 
 And, having both together heaved it up. 
 We '11 both together lift our heads to heaven, 
 And never more abase our sight so low 
 As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground. 
 
 Glon. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, 
 Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts. 
 And may that thought, when I imagine ill 
 Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry, 20 
 
 Be my last breathing in this mortal world ! 
 My troublous dream this night doth make me sad. 
 
 Duch. What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I '11 requite it 
 With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. 
 
 Clou. Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court, 
 Was broke in twain ; by whom I have forgot. 
 But, as I think, it was by the cardinal ; 
 And on the pieces of the broken wand 
 26
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. ii. 
 
 AVere placed the heads of Edmund Dnke of Somerset, 
 And William de la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk. 30 
 This was my dream : what it doth bode, God knows. 
 
 Dt{ch. Tut, this was nothing but an argument. 
 
 That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester's grove 
 
 Shall lose his head for his presumption. 
 
 But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke : 
 
 Methought I sat in seat of majesty. 
 
 In the cathedral church of Westminster, 
 
 And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd ; 
 
 Where Henry and dame Margaret kneel'd to me, 
 
 And on my head did set the diadem. 40 
 
 Gloii. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright: 
 Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor, 
 Art thou not second woman in the realm. 
 And the protector's wife, beloved of him ? 
 Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, 
 Above the reach or compass of thy thought ? 
 And wilt thou still be hammering treachery, 
 To tumble down thy husband and thyself 
 From top of honour to disgrace's feet ? 
 Away from me, and let me hear no more ! 50 
 
 Diich. What, what, my lord! are you so choleric 
 With Eleanor, for telling but her dream ? 
 Next time I '11 keep my dreams unto myself, 
 And not be check'd. 
 
 Glou. Nay, be not angry ; I am pleased again. 
 
 Enter Messenger. 
 
 Mess. My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure 
 You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, 
 Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk. 
 
 27
 
 Act I. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glou. I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us ? 
 
 Duch. Yes, my good lord, I '11 follow presently. 60 
 
 [Exeunt Gloucester and Messenger. 
 Follow I must ; I cannot go before, 
 While Gloucester bears this base and humble mind. 
 Were I a man, a duke, and next of blood, 
 I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks 
 And smooth my way upon their headless necks ; 
 And, being a woman, I will not be slack 
 To play my part in Fortune's pageant. 
 Where are you there ? Sir John ! nay, fear not, man. 
 We are alone ; here 's none but thee and I. 
 
 Enter Hume. 
 
 Hume. Jesus preserve your royal majesty ! 70 
 
 Duch. What say'st thou? majesty! I am but grace. 
 
 Hume. But, by the grace of God, and Hume's advice. 
 Your grace's title shall be multiplied. 
 
 Duch. What say'st thou, man? hast thou as yet conferr'd 
 With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch. 
 With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? 
 And will they undertake to do me good? 
 
 Hume. This they have promised, to show your highness 
 A spirit raised from depth of under-ground, 
 That shall make answer to such questions 80 
 
 As by your grace shall be propounded him. 
 
 Duch. It is enough ; I '11 think upon the questions : 
 \Mien from Saint Alban's we do make return, 
 We '11 see these things effected to the full. 
 Here, Hume, take this reward ; make merry, man, 
 With thy confederates in this weighty cause. [Exit. 
 
 Hume. Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold ; 
 
 28
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 yisLTvy, and shall. But, how now, Sir John Hume ! 
 
 Seal up your lips, and give no words but mum : 
 
 The business asketh silent secrecy. 90 
 
 Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch : 
 
 Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. 
 
 Yet have I gold flies from another coast ; 
 
 I dare not say, from the rich cardinal, 
 
 And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, 
 
 Yet I do find it so ; for, to be plain. 
 
 They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour, 
 
 Have hired me to undermine the duchess. 
 
 And buz these conjurations in her brain. 
 
 They say ' A crafty knave does need no broker ; ' 
 
 Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. loi 
 
 Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near 
 
 To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. 
 
 Well, so it stands ; and thus, I fear, at last 
 
 Hume's knavery w^ill be the duchess' wreck, 
 
 And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall : 
 
 Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. [Exit. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 The palace. 
 
 Enter three or four Petitioners, Peter, the Armourer's 
 man, being one. 
 
 First Petit. Aly masters, let 's stand close : my lord 
 protector will come this way by and by, and then 
 we may deliver our supplications in the quill. 
 
 Sec. Petit. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he 's a 
 good man ! Jesu bless him ! 
 
 29
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Enter Suffolk and Queen. 
 
 Peter. Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with 
 
 him. I '11 be the first, sure. 
 See. Petit. Come back, fool ; this is the Duke of 
 
 Suffolk, and not my lord protector. 
 Siif. How now, fellow! wouldst any thing with me? lo 
 First Petit. I pray, my lord, pardon me ; I took ye 
 
 for my lord protector. 
 Queen. [Reading] 'To my Lord Protector !' Are your 
 
 supplications to his lordship ? Let me see them : 
 
 what is thine ? 
 First Petit. ]Mine is, an *t please your grace, against 
 
 John Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for 
 
 keeping my house, and lands, and wife and all, 
 
 from me. 
 Suf. Thy wife too ! that 's some wrong, indeed. 20 
 
 What 's- yours? what 's here! [Reads] ' Against 
 
 the Duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons 
 
 of iNIelford.' How now, sir knave ! 
 Sec. Petit. Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our 
 
 whole township. 
 Peter [givinghis petition]. Against my master, Thomas 
 
 Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was 
 
 rightful heir to the crown. 
 Queen. What say'st thou ? did the Duke of York say 
 
 he was rightful heir to the crown ? 30 
 
 Peter. That my master was ? no, forsooth : my master 
 
 said that he was, and that the king was an 
 
 usurper. 
 Suf. Who is there? [Enter Servant.] Take this fellow 
 
 in, and send for his master with a pursuivant 
 
 30
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. iii. 
 
 presently : we '11 hear more of your matter before 
 the king. [Exit Servant zcith Peter. 
 
 Queen. And as for you, that love to be protected 
 Under the wings of our protector's grace, 
 Begin your suits anew, and sue to him. 40 
 
 [Tears the supplications. 
 Away, base cullions ! Suffolk, let them go. 
 
 All. Come, let's be. gone. [Exeunt. 
 
 Queen. My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, 
 Is this the fashion in the court of England? 
 Is this the government of Britain's isle. 
 And this the royalty of Albion's king? 
 What, shall King Henry be a pupil still 
 Under the surly Gloucester's governance? 
 Am I a queen in title and in style. 
 And must be made a subject to a duke? 50 
 
 I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours 
 Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love. 
 And stolest away the ladies' hearts of France, 
 I thought King Henry had resembled thee 
 In courage, courtship and proportion : 
 But all his mind is bent to holiness, 
 To number Ave-Maries on his beads ; 
 His champions are the prophets and apostles, 
 His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, 
 His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves 60 
 
 Are brazen images of canonized saints. 
 I would the college of the cardinals 
 Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome, 
 And set the triple crown upon his head : 
 That were a state fit for his holiness. 
 
 Suf. Madam, be patient : as I was cause 
 
 31
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Your highness came to England, so will I 
 In England work your grace's full content. 
 
 Queen. Beside the haughty protector, have we Beaufort, 
 The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, 
 And grumbling York ; and not the least of these 71 
 But can do more in England than the king. 
 
 Siif. And he of these that can do most of all 
 
 Cannot do more in England than the Nevils : 
 Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers. 
 
 Queen. Not all these lords do vex me half so much 
 As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife. 
 She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, 
 More like an empress than Duke Humphrey's wife : 
 Strangers in court do take her for the queen : 80 
 
 She bears a duke's revenues on her back. 
 And in her heart she scorns our poverty : 
 Shall I not live to be avenged on her? 
 Contemptuous base-born callet as she is. 
 She vaunted 'mongst her minions t' other day. 
 The very train of her worst wearing gown 
 Was better worth than all my father's lands. 
 Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. 
 
 Stif. Madam, myself have limed a bush for her, 
 
 And placed a quire of such enticing birds, 90 
 
 That she will light to listen to the lays, 
 
 And never mount to trouble you again. 
 
 So, let her rest : and, madam, list to me ; 
 
 For I am bold to counsel you in this. 
 
 Although we fancy not the cardinal. 
 
 Yet must we join with him and with the lords. 
 
 Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. 
 
 As for the Duke of York, this late complaint 
 
 32
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. Hi. 
 
 Will make but little for his benefit. 
 
 So, one by one, we '11 weed them all at last. lOO 
 
 And you yourself shall steer the happy helm. 
 
 Sound a Sennet. Enter the King, Duke Humphrey of 
 Gloucester, Cardinal Beaufort, Buckingham, York, 
 Somerset, Salisbury, Warzvick, and the Duchess of 
 Gloucester. 
 
 King. For my part, noble lords, I care not which ; 
 
 Or Somerset or York, all 's one to me. 
 York. If York have ill demean'd himself in France, 
 
 Then let him be denay'd the regentship. 
 Soni. If Somerset be unworthy of the place, 
 
 Let York be regent ; I will yield to him. 
 War. Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no, 
 
 Dispute not that : York is the worthier. 
 Car. Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak. no 
 
 War. The cardinal 's not my better in the field. 
 Buck. All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick. 
 War. Warwick may live to be the best of all. 
 Sal. Peace, son ! and show^ some reason, Buckingham, 
 
 Why Somerset should be preferr'd in this. 
 Queen. Because the king, forsooth, will have it so. 
 Gloii. Madam, the king is old enough himself 
 
 To give his censure : these are no w^omen's matters. 
 Queen. If he be old enough, w^hat needs your grace 
 
 To be protector of his excellence ? t2d 
 
 Gloii. Madam, I am protector of the realm : 
 
 And, at his pleasure, will resign my place. 
 Suf. Resign it then and leave thine insolence. 
 
 Since thou wert king — as who is king but thou ? — 
 
 The commonwealth hath daily run to w^reck ; 
 
 The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas ; 
 
 33
 
 Act I. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And all the peers and nobles of the realm 
 Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty. 
 
 Car. The commons hast thou rack'd ; the clergy's bags 
 Are lank and lean with thy extortions. 130 
 
 So}n. Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire 
 Have cost a mass of public treasury. 
 
 Buck. Thy cruelty in execution 
 
 Upon offenders hath exceeded law, 
 And left thee to the mercy of the law. 
 
 Queen. Thy sale of offices and towns in France, 
 If they were known, as the suspect is great, 
 \\'ould make thee quickly hop without thy head. 
 
 [E.vit Gloucester. The Queen drops her fan. 
 Give me my fan : what, minion ! can ye not ? 
 
 [She gives the Duchess a box on the ear. 
 I cry you mercy, madam; was it you? 140 
 
 Duch. \\'as 't I! yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman: 
 Could I come near your beauty with my nails, 
 I 'Id set my ten commandments in your face. 
 
 King. Sweet aunt, be quiet ; 'twas against her will. 
 
 Duch. Against her will ! good king, look to 't in time ; 
 She '11 hamper thee, and dandle thee like a baby: 
 Though in this place most master wear no breeches. 
 She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged. [Exit. 
 
 Buck. Lord cardinal, T will follow Eleanor, 
 
 And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds : 150 
 
 She 's tickled now ; her fume needs no spurs. 
 
 She '11 gallop far enough to her destruction. [Exit. 
 
 Re-enter Gloucester. 
 
 Glou. Now, lords, my choler being over-blown 
 With walking once about the quadrangle, 
 
 34
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I.Sc. iii. 
 
 I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. 
 
 As for your spiteful false objections, 
 
 Prove them, and I lie open to the law : 
 
 But God in mercy so deal with my soul, 
 
 As I in duty love my king and country ! 
 
 But, to the matter that we have in hand : i6o 
 
 I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man 
 
 To be your regent in the realm of France. 
 
 Sitf. Before we make election, give me leave 
 To show some reason, of no little force. 
 That York is most unmeet of any man. 
 
 York. I '11 tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet : 
 First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride ; 
 Next, if I be appointed for the place. 
 My Lord of Somerset will keep me here, 
 Without discharge, money, or furniture, 170 
 
 Till France be won into the Dauphin's hands : 
 Last time, I danced attendance on his will 
 Till Paris was besieged, famish'd, and lost. 
 
 U 'ar. That can I witness ; and a fouler fact 
 Did never traitor in the land commit. 
 
 Suf. Peace, headstrong \A^arwick ! 
 
 War. Image of pride, why should I hold my peace ? 
 
 Enter Horner, the Armourer, and his man Peter, guarded. 
 
 Suf. Because here is a man accused of treason : 
 Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself ! 
 
 York. Doth any one accuse York for a traitor? 180 
 
 Kmg. What mean'st thou, Suffolk ? tell me, what are these ? 
 
 Stif. Please it your majesty, this is the man 
 
 That doth accuse his master of high treason : 
 
 His words were these : that Richard Duke of York 
 
 35
 
 Act 1. Sc. Hi. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Was rightful heir unto the EngHsh crown, 
 And that your majesty was an usurper. 
 
 King. Say, man, were these thy words ? 
 
 Hor. An 't shall please your majesty, I never said 
 nor thought any such matter : God is my witness, 
 I am falsely accused by the villain. 190 
 
 Pet. By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them 
 to me in the garret one night, as we were scour- 
 ing my Lord of York's armour. 
 
 York. Base dunghill villain and mechanical, 
 
 I '11 have thy head for this thy traitor's speech. 
 
 I do beseech your royal majesty, 
 
 Let him have all the rigour of the law. 
 
 Hor. Alas, my lord, hang me, if ever I spake the 
 words. My accuser is my 'prentice ; and when 
 I did correct him for his fault the other day, he 200 
 did vow upon his knees he would be even with 
 me : I have good witness of this ; therefore I 
 beseech your majesty, do not cast away an honest 
 man for a villain's accusation. 
 
 King. Uncle, what shall we say to this in law ? 
 
 Gloit. This doom, my lord, if I may judge: 
 Let Somerset be regent o'er the French, 
 Because in York this breeds suspicion : 
 And let these have a day appointed them. 
 For single combat in convenient place, 210 
 
 For he hath witness of his servant's malice : 
 This is the law, and this Duke Humphrey's doom. 
 
 Som. I humbly thank your royal majesty. 
 
 Hor. And I accept the combat willingly. 
 
 Pet. Alas, my lord, I cannot fight ; for God's sake, 
 pity my case. The spite of man prevaileth 
 
 3^
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 against me. O Lord, have mercy upon me ! I 
 
 shall never be able to fight a blow. O Lord, my 
 
 heart ! 
 Gloii. Sirrah, or you must fight, or else be hang'd. 220 
 King. Away with them to prison ; and the day of 
 
 combat shall be the last of the next month. 
 
 Come, Somerset, we '11 see thee sent away. 
 
 [Flourish. Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 Gloucester's garden. 
 
 Enter Margery Jourdain, Hume, Southzvell, 
 and Bolinghroke. 
 
 Hume. Come, my masters ; the duchess, I tell you, 
 expects performance of your promises. 
 
 Boling. Master Hume, we are therefore provided : 
 will her ladyship behold and hear our exorcisms ? 
 
 Hume. Ay, what else? fear you not her courage. 
 
 Boling, I have heard her reported to be a woman of 
 an invincible spirit : but it shall be convenient, 
 Master Hume, that you be by her aloft, while 
 we be busy below ; and so, I pray you, go, 10 
 in God's name, and leave us. [Exit Hume.] 
 Mother Jourdain, be you prostrate and grovel 
 on the earth ; John Southwell, read you ; and 
 let us to our work. 
 
 Enter Duchess aloft, Hume follozving. 
 
 Duch. Well said, my masters ; and welcome all. To 
 this gear the sooner the better. 
 
 37
 
 Act I. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Boling. Patience, good lady ; wizards know their times : 
 Deep night, dark night, the silent of the night. 
 The time of night when Troy was set on fire ; 19 
 
 The time when screech-owls cry, and ban-dogs howl, 
 And spirits walk, and ghosts break up their graves, 
 That time best fits the work we have in hand. 
 Madam, sit you and fear not : whom we raise. 
 We will make fast within a hallow 'd verge. 
 
 [Here they do the ceremonies belonging, and make 
 the circle; Bolinghroke or Southwell reads, 
 Conjuro te, &c. It thunders and lightens ter- 
 ribly ; then the Spirit riseth. 
 
 Spir. Adsum. 
 
 M. Jourd. Asmath, 
 
 By the eternal God, whose name and power 
 
 Thou tremblest at, answer that I shall ask ; 
 
 For, till thou speak, thou shalt not pass trom hence. 
 
 Spir. Ask what thou wilt. That I had said and done ! 30 
 
 Boling. ' First of the king: what shall of him become? ' 
 
 [Reading out of a paper. 
 
 Spir. The duke yet lives that Henry shall depose ; 
 But him outlive, and die a violent death. 
 [As the Spirit speaks, Southzvell zvrites the anszver. 
 
 Boling. ' What fates await the Duke of Suffolk? ' 
 
 Spir. By water shall he die, and take his end. 
 
 Boling. ' What shall befall the Duke of Somerset? ' 
 
 Spir. Let him shun castles ; 
 
 Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains 
 
 Than where castles mounted stand. 
 
 Have done, for more I hardly can endure. 40 
 
 38
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act I. Sc. iv. 
 
 Boling. Descend to darkness and the burning lake ! 
 False fiend, avoid ! 
 
 [Thunder and lightning. Exit Spirit. 
 
 Enter the Duke of York and the Duke of Buckingham 
 zvith their Guard and break in. 
 
 York. Lay hands upon these traitors and their trash. 
 
 Beldam, I think we watch'd you at an inch. 
 
 What, madam, are you there? the king and com- 
 monweal 
 
 Are deeply indebted for this piece of pains : 
 
 I\Iy lord protector will, I doubt it not. 
 
 See you well guerdoned for these good deserts. 
 Duch. Not half so bad as thine to England's king, 
 
 Injurious duke, that threatest where 's no cause. 50 
 Buck. True, madam, none at all: what call you this? 
 
 Away with them ! let them be clapp'd up close. 
 
 And kept asunder. You, madam, shall with us. 
 
 Stafford, take her to thee. 
 
 [Exeunt above Duchess and Hume, guarded. 
 
 We '11 see your trinkets here all forthcoming. 
 
 All, away ! 
 
 ]^Exeu}it guard zvith Jourdain, Southzvell, &c, 
 York. Lord Buckingham, methinks, you watch'd her well : 
 
 A pretty plot, well chosen to build upon ! 
 
 Now, pray, my lord, let 's see the devil's writ. 
 
 What have we here? [Reads. 60 
 
 ' The duke yet lives, that Henry shall depose; 
 
 But him outlive, and die a violent death.' 
 
 Why this is just 
 
 ' Aio te, ^acida, Romanos vincere posse.' 
 
 Well, to the rest : 
 
 39
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 ' Tell me, what fate awaits the Duke of Suffolk ? 
 
 By water shall he die, and take his end. 
 
 What shall betide the Duke of Somerset? 
 
 Let him shun castles ; 
 
 Safer shall he be upon the sandy plains 70 
 
 Than where castles mounted stand.' 
 
 Come, come, my lords ; 
 
 These oracles are hardly attained, 
 
 And hardly understood. 
 
 The king.is now in progress towards Saint Alban's, 
 
 With him the husband of this lovely lady : 
 
 Thither go these news, as fast as horse can carry them : 
 
 A sorry breakfast for my lord protector. 
 Buck. Your grace shall give me leave, my Lord of York, 
 
 To be the post, in hope of his reward. 80 
 
 York. At your pleasure, my good lord. Who 's within 
 
 there, ho! 
 
 Enter a Serving-man. 
 
 Invite my Lords of Salisbury and Warwick 
 To sup with me to-morrow night. Away ! 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 Scene I. 
 
 Saint Albans. 
 
 Enter the King, Queen, Gloucester, Cardinal, and Suffolk, 
 with Falconers halloing. 
 
 Queen. Believe me, lords, for flying at the brook, 
 I saw not better sport these seven years' day. 
 Yet, by your leave, the wind was very high ; 
 
 40
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. ic 
 
 And, ten to one, old Joan had not gone out. 
 King. But what a point, my lord, your falcon made, 
 
 And what a pitch she flew above the rest ! 
 
 To see how God in all His creatures works ! 
 
 Yea, man and birds are fain of climbing high. 
 Siif. No marvel, an it like your majesty, 
 
 My lord protector's hawks do tower so well ; i 
 
 They know their master loves to be aloft, 
 
 And bears his thoughts above his falcon's pitch. 
 Glou. My lord, 'tis but a base ignoble mind 
 
 That mounts no higher than a bird can soar. 
 Car. I thought as much ; he would be above the clouds. 
 Glou. Ay, my lord cardinal? how think you by that? 
 
 Were it not good your grace could fly to heaven ? 
 King. The treasury of everlasting joy. 
 Car. Thy heaven is on earth ; thine eyes and thoughts 
 
 Beat on a crown, the treasure of thy heart ; 20 
 
 Pernicious protector, dangerous peer, 
 
 That smooth'st it so with king and commonweal ! 
 Glou. What, cardinal, is your priesthood grown per- 
 emptory ? 
 
 Tantaene animis coelestibus irse? 
 
 Churchmen so hot ? good uncle, hide such malice ;' 
 
 With such holiness can you do it ? 
 Suf. No malice, sir ; no more than well becomes 
 
 So good a quarrel and so bad a peer. 
 Glou. As who, my lord ? 
 Suf. Why, as you, my lord, 
 
 An 't like your lordly lord-protectorship. 30 
 
 Glou. Why, Suffolk, England knows thine insolence. 
 Queen. And thy ambition, Gloucester. 
 King. I prithee, peace, good queen, 
 
 41
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And whet not on these furious peers ; 
 For blessed are the peacemakers on earth. 
 Car. Let me be blessed for the peace I make, 
 
 Against this proud protector, with my sword! 
 Clou. [Aside to Car.] Faith, holy uncle, would 'twere come 
 
 to that ! 
 Car. [Aside to Clou.] Marry, when thou darest. 
 Clou. [Aside to Car.] Make up no factious numbers for the 
 matter ; 40 
 
 In thine own person answer thy abuse. 
 Car. [Aside to Clou.] Ay, where thou darest not peep : an 
 if thou darest. 
 This evening, on the east side of the grove. 
 King. How now, my lords ! 
 
 Car. Believe me, cousin Gloucester, 
 
 Had not your man put up the fowl so suddenly. 
 We had had more sport. [Aside to Clou.] Come 
 with thy two-hand sword. 
 Clou. True, uncle. 
 Car. [Aside to Clou.] Are ye advised? the east side of 
 
 the grove ? 
 Clou. [Aside to Car.] Cardinal, I am with you. 
 King. Why, how now, uncle Gloucester ! 
 
 Clou. Talking of hawking ; nothing else, my lord. 50 
 
 [Aside to Car.] Now, by God's mother, priest, I'll 
 
 shave your crown for this, 
 Or all my fence shall fail. 
 Car. [Aside to Clou.] Aledice, teipsum — 
 
 Protector, see to 't well, protect yourself. 
 King. The winds grow high ; so do your stomachs, 
 lords. 
 How irksome is this music to my heart ! 
 
 42
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 When such strings jar, what hope of harmony? 
 I pray, my lords, let me compound this strife. 
 
 Enter a Townsman of Saint Albans, crying ' A miracle! ' 
 
 Glou. What means this noise? 
 
 Fellow, what miracle dost thou proclaim? 60 
 
 Tozuns. A miracle ! a miracle ! 
 Suf. Come to the king and tell him what miracle. 
 7 ozvns. Forsooth, a blind man at Saint Alban's shrine, 
 
 Within this half-hour, hath received his sight ; 
 
 A man that ne'er saw m his life before. 
 King. Now, God be praised, that to believing souls 
 
 Gives light in darkness, comfort in despair ! 
 
 Enter the Mayor of Saint Albans and his brethren, 
 
 bearing Simpcox, betzveen tzvo in a chair, 
 
 Simpco.r's Wife follozdng. 
 
 Car. Here comes the townsmen on procession, 
 
 To present your highness with the man. 
 King. Great is his comfort in this earthly vale, 70 
 
 Although by his sight his sin be multiplied. 
 Glou. Stand by, my masters : bring him near the king ; 
 
 His highness' pleasure is to talk with him. 
 King. Good fellow, tell us here the circumstance. 
 
 That we for thee may glorify the Lord. 
 
 What, hast thou been long blind and now restored ? 
 Simp. Born blind, an 't please your grace. 
 Wife. Ay, indeed, was he. 
 Suf. What woman is this? 
 
 Wife. His wife, an 't like your worship. 80 
 
 Glou. Hadst thou been his mother, thou couldst have better 
 
 told. 
 King. Where wert thou born ? 
 
 43
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Simp, At Berwick in the north, an 't Hke your grace. 
 King. Poor soul, God's goodness hath been great to thee : 
 
 Let never day nor night unhallow'd pass, 
 
 But still remember what the Lord hath done. 
 Queen. Tell me, good fellow, earnest thou here by chance, 
 
 Or of devotion, to this holy shrine ? 
 Simp. God knows, of pure devotion ; being call'd 
 
 A hundred times and oftener, in my sleep, 90 
 
 By good Saint Alban ; who said, ' Simpcox, come, 
 
 Come, offer at my shrine, and I will help thee.' 
 Wife. Most true, forsooth ; and many time and oft 
 
 Myself have heard a voice to call him so. 
 Car. What, art thou lame ? 
 
 Simp. Ay, God Almighty help me ! 
 
 Siif. How camest thou so ? 
 Simp. A fall off of a tree. 
 
 Wife. A plum-tree, master. 
 
 Glou. How long hast thou been blind? 
 
 Simp. O, born so, master. 
 
 Glou. What, and wouldst climb a tree? 
 
 Simp. But that in all my life, when I was a youth. 
 Wife. Too true; and bought his climbing very dear. 100 
 Glou. Mass, thou lovedst plums well, that wouldst venture 
 
 so. 
 Simp. Alas, good master, my wife desired some damsons, 
 
 And made me climb, with danger of my life. 
 Glou. A subtle knave ! but yet it shall not serve. 
 
 Let me see thine eyes : wink now : now open them : 
 
 In my opinion yet thou see'st not well. 
 Simp. Yes, master, clear as day, I thank God and Saint 
 
 Alban. 
 Glou. Say'st thou me so? What colour is this cloak of? 
 
 44
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 Simp. Red, master ; red as blood. 
 
 Glou. Why, that 's well said. What colour is my gown 
 of? no 
 
 Simp. Black, forsooth : coal-black as jet. 
 
 King. Why, then, thou know'st what colour jet is of? 
 
 Suf. And yet, I think, jet did he never see. 
 
 Glou. But cloaks and gowns, before this day, a many. 
 
 Wife. Never, before this day, in all his life. 
 
 Glou. Tell me, sirrah, what 's my name? 
 
 Simp. xA.las, master, I know not. 
 
 Glou. What 's his name? 
 
 Simp. I know not. 
 
 Glou. Nor his? 120 
 
 Simp. No, indeed, master. 
 
 Glou. \\'hat 's thine own name? 
 
 Simp. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master. 
 
 Glou. Then, Saunder, sit there, the lyingest knave 
 in Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, 
 thou mightst as well have known all our names 
 as thus to name the several colours we do wear. 
 Sight may distinguish of colours, but suddenly 
 to nominate them all, it is impossible. My 
 lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle; 130 
 and would ye not think his cunning to be great, 
 that could restore this cripple to his legs again? 
 
 Simp. O master, that you could ! 
 
 Glou. My masters of Saint Albans, have you not 
 beadles in your town, and things called whips? 
 
 May. Yes, iny lord, if it please your grace. 
 
 Glou. Then send for one presently. 
 
 May. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight. 
 
 [Exit an attendant. 
 
 45
 
 Act II. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glou. Xow fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now, 
 
 sirrah, if you mean to save yourself from whip- 140 
 ping, leap me over this stool and run away. 
 
 Simp. Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone : 
 You go about to torture me in vain. 
 
 Enter a Beadle zvith zvhips. 
 
 Glou. Well, sir, we must have you find your legs. 
 Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that 
 same stool. 
 
 Bead. I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah ; off with 
 your doublet quickly. 
 
 Simp. Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not 
 
 able to stand. 150 
 
 [After the Beadle hath hit him once, he leaps over 
 the stool and runs azvay; and they follozij and 
 cry, ' A miracle I ' 
 
 King. O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long? 
 
 Queen. It made me laugh to see the villain run. 
 
 Glou. Follow the knave ; and take this drab away. 
 
 Wife. Alas, sir, we did it for pure need. 
 
 Glou. Let them be whipped through every market- 
 town, till they come to Berwick, from whence 
 they came. [Exeunt Wife, Beadle, Mayor, etc. 
 
 Car. Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day. 
 
 Suf. True ; made the lame to leap and fly away. 
 
 Glou. But you have done more miracles than I ; 160 
 
 You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly. 
 
 Enter Buckingham. 
 
 King. What tidings with our cousin Buckingham ? 
 Buck. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold. 
 
 46
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. i. 
 
 A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, 
 
 Under the countenance and confederacy 
 
 Of Lady Eleanor, the protector's wife, 
 
 The ringleader and head of all this rout, 
 
 Have practised dangerously against your state, 
 
 Dealing with witches and with conjurers: 
 
 Whom we have apprehended in the fact ; 170 
 
 Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, 
 
 Demanding of King Henry's life and death. 
 
 And other of your highness' privy-council ; 
 
 As more at large your grace shall understand. 
 
 Car. [Aside to Glou.] And so, my lord protector, by this 
 means 
 Your lady is forthcoming yet at London. 
 This news, I think, hath turn'd your weapon's edge ; 
 'Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour. 
 
 Glou. Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart : 
 Sorrow and grief have vanquish'd all my powers ; 180 
 And, vanquish'd as I am* I yield to thee. 
 Or to the meanest groom. 
 
 King. O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones. 
 Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby ! 
 
 Queen. Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest. 
 And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best. 
 
 Glou. Aladam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal. 
 How I have loved my king and commonweal : 
 And, for my wife, I know not how it stands ; 
 Sorry I am to hear what I have heard : 190 
 
 Noble she is, but if she have forgot 
 Honour and virtue and conversed with such 
 As, like to pitch, defile nobility, 
 I banish her my bed and company, 
 
 47
 
 Act II. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And give her as a prey to law and shame, 
 That have dishonour'd Gloucester's honest name. 
 King. Well, for this night we will repose us here : 
 To-morrow toward London back again. 
 To look into this business thoroughly. 
 And call these foul offenders to their answers, 200 
 And poise the cause in justice' equal scales. 
 Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails. 
 
 [Flourish. Exeunt. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 London. The Duke of York's garden. 
 Enter York, Salisbury, and JVarzvick. 
 
 York. Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, 
 Our simple supper ended, give me leave 
 In this close w^alk to satisfy myself. 
 In craving your opinion of my title. 
 Which is infallible, to England's crown. 
 
 Sal. My lord, I long to hear it at full. 
 
 JVar. Sweet York, begin : and if thy claim be good, 
 The Nevils are thy subjects to command. 
 
 York. Then thus : 
 
 Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons : 10 
 
 The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales ; 
 The second, William of Hatfield, and the third, 
 Lionel Duke of Clarence ; next to whom 
 Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster ; 
 The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; 
 The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of 
 
 Gloucester ; 
 William of Windsor was the seventh and last.
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. ii. 
 
 Edward the Black Prince died before his father. 
 And left behind him Richard, his only son, 
 Who after Edward the Third's death reign'd as king ; 
 Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, 21 
 
 The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, 
 Crown'd by the name of Henry the Fourth, 
 Seized on the realm, deposed the rightful king, 
 Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came. 
 And him to Pomfret ; where, as all you know, 
 Harmless Richard was murder'd traitorously. 
 
 War. Father, the duke hath told the truth ; 
 
 Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown. 
 
 York. \\'hich now they hold by force and not by right ; 
 For Richard, the first son's heir, being dead, 31 
 
 The issue of the next son should have reign'd. 
 
 Sal. But William of Hatfield died without an heir. 
 
 York, The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line 
 I claim the crown, had issue, Philippe, a daughter, 
 Who married Edmund ^Mortimer, Earl of March : 
 Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March ; 
 Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne and Eleanor. 
 
 Sal. This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, 
 
 As I have read, laid claim unto the crown ; 40 
 
 And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king. 
 Who kept him in captivity till he died. 
 But to the rest. 
 
 York. His eldest sister, Anne, 
 
 ]\Iy mother, being heir unto the crown, 
 Married Richard Earl of Cambridge ; who was son 
 To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third's fifth son. 
 By her I claim the kingdom : she was heir 
 To Roger Earl of March, who was the son 
 
 49
 
 Act II. Sc. li. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, 
 Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence : 50 
 So, if the issue of the elder son 
 Succeed before the younger, I am king. 
 
 War. What plain proceeding is more plain than this ? 
 Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, 
 The fourth son ; York claims it from the third. 
 Till Lionel's issue fails, his should not reign : 
 It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee 
 And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock. 
 Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together; 
 And in this private plot be we the first 60 
 
 That shall salute our rightful sovereign 
 With honour of his birthright to the crown. 
 
 Both. Long live our sovereign Richard, England's king ! 
 
 York. We thank you, lords. But I am not your king 
 Till I be crown 'd, and that my sword be stain'd 
 With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster ; 
 And that 's not suddenly to be perform'd, 
 But with advice and silent secrecy. 
 Do you as I do in these dangerous days : 
 Wink at the Duke of Suffolk's insolence, 70 
 
 At Beaufort's pride, at Somerset's ambition, 
 At Buckingham and all the crew of them, 
 Till they have snared the shepherd of the flock, 
 That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey : 
 'Tis that they seek, and they in seeking that 
 Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy. 
 
 Sal. My lord, break we off ; we know your mind at full. 
 
 War. My heart assures me that the Earl of W^arwick 
 Shall one day make the Duke of York a king. 
 
 York. And, Nevil, this I do assure myself 80 
 
 SO
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick 
 The greatest man in England but the king. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A hall of justice. 
 
 Sound trumpets. Enter the King, the Queen, Gloucester, 
 York, Suffolk, and Salisbury: the Duchess of Glou- 
 cester, Margery Jonrdaiu, Southzi'cll, Hume, and 
 Bolingbroke, binder guard. 
 
 King. Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester's 
 wife : 
 In sight of God and us, your guilt is great : 
 Receive the sentence of the law for sins 
 Such as by God's book are adjudged to death. 
 You four, from hence to prison back again ; 
 From thence unto the place of execution : 
 The witch in Smithfield shall be burn'd to ashes, 
 And you three shall be strangled on the gallows. 
 You, madam, for you are more nobly born. 
 Despoiled of your honour in your life, lo 
 
 Shall, after three days' open penance done, 
 Live in your country here in banishment, 
 With Sir John Stanley, in the Isle of Man. 
 
 Dhch. Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death. 
 
 Glou. Eleanor, the law, thou see'st, hath .judged thee: 
 I cannot justify whom the law condemns. 
 
 [Exeunt Duchess and other prisoners, guarded. 
 Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief. 
 Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age 
 Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground ! 
 
 SI
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 I beseech your majesty, give me leave to go; 20 
 
 Sorrow would solace and mine age would ease. 
 
 King. Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester : ere thou go. 
 Give up thy staff : Henry will to himself 
 Protector be ; and God shall be my hope, 
 My stay, my guide and lantern to my feet : 
 And go in peace, Humphrey, no less beloved 
 Than when thou wert protector to thy king. 
 
 Queen. I see no reason why a king of years 
 Should be to be protected like a child. 
 God and King Henry govern England's realm. 30 
 Give up your staff, sir, and the king his realm. 
 
 Gloit. My staff? here, noble Henry, is my staff: 
 As wilHngly do I the same resign 
 As e'er thy father Henry made it mine ; 
 And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it 
 As others would ambitiously receive it. 
 Farewell, good king : when I am dead and gone. 
 May honourable peace attend thy throne ! [Exit. 
 
 Queen. Why, now is Henry king, and Alargaret queen; 
 And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, 
 That bears so shrewd a maim ; two pulls at once ; 
 His lady banish'd, and a limb lopp'd off. 42 
 
 This staff of honour raught, there let it stand 
 Where it best fits to be, in Henry's hand. 
 
 Suf. Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays ; 
 Thus Eleanor's pride dies in her youngest days. 
 
 York. Lords, let him go. Please it your majesty, 
 This is the day appointed for the combat ; 
 And ready are the appellant and defendant. 
 The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, 50 
 
 So please your highness to behold the fight. 
 
 52
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act II. Sc. iii. 
 
 Queen. Ay, good my lord ; for purposely therefore 
 Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried. 
 
 King. O' God's name, see the lists and all things fit : 
 Here let them end it ; and God defend the right 1 
 
 York. I never saw a fellow worse bested, 
 
 Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, 
 The servant of this armourer, my lords. 
 
 Enter at one door, Horner, the Armourer, and his 
 Neighbours, drinking to him so much that he is 
 drunk; and he enters with a drum before him 
 and his staff with a sand-bag fastened to it; and 
 at the other door Peter, his man, zvith a drum and 
 sand-bag, and 'Prentices drinking to him. 
 
 First Neigh. Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you 
 
 in a cup of sack : and fear not, neighbour, you 60 
 shall do well enough. 
 
 Sec. Neigh. And here, neighbour, here 's a cup of 
 charneco. 
 
 Third Neigh. And here 's a pot of good double beer, 
 neighbour : drink, and fear not your man. 
 
 Hor. Let it come, i' faith, and I '11 pledge you all ; 
 and a fig for Peter ! 
 
 First Tren. Here, Peter, I drink to thee: and be 
 not afraid. 
 
 Sec. Tren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy master : 70 
 fight for credit of the 'prentices. 
 
 Peter. I thank you all: drink, and pray for me, I 
 pray you: for I think I have taken my last 
 draught in this world. Here, Robin, an if I 
 die, I give thee my, apron : and, Will, thou shalt 
 have my hammer: and here, Tom, take all the 
 
 53
 
 Act II. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 money that I have. O Lord bless me! I pray 
 God ! for I am never able to deal with my 
 master, he hath learnt so much fence already. 
 
 Sal. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. 80 
 Sirrah, what 's thy name ? 
 
 Peter. Peter, forsooth. 
 
 Sal. Peter ! what more ? 
 
 Peter. Thump. 
 
 Sal. Thump ! then see thou thump thy master well. 
 
 Hot. Masters, I am come hither, as it w^ere, upon 
 my man's instigation, to prove him a knave and 
 myself an honest man : and touching the Duke 
 of York, I will take my death, I never meant 
 him any ill, nor the king, nor the queen : and 90 
 therefore, Peter, have at thee with a downright 
 blow ! 
 
 York. Dispatch : this knave's tongue begins to double. 
 Sound, trumpets, alarum to the combatants ! 
 
 [Alarum. They fight, and Peter strikes him dozen. 
 
 Hor. Hold, Peter, hold ! I confess, I confess treason. 
 
 [Dies. 
 
 York. Take away his weapon. Fellow, thank God, 
 and the good wine in thy master's way. 
 
 Peter. O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this 
 presence ? O Peter, thou hast prevailed in right ! 
 
 King. Go, take hence that traitor from our sight ; 100 
 
 For by his death we do perceive his guilt : 
 And God in justice hath reveal'd to us 
 The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, 
 \Miich he had thought to have murder'd wrongfully. 
 Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. 
 
 [Sound a flourish. Exeunt. 
 
 54
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IL Sc. iv. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 A street. 
 
 Enter Gloucester and his Serving-men, in mourning 
 cloaks. 
 
 Gloii. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud ; 
 And after summer evermore succeeds 
 Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold : 
 So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet. 
 Sirs, what 's o'clock ? 
 
 Serv. Ten, my lord. 
 
 Gloii. Ten is the hour that was appointed me 
 
 To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess : 
 
 Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, 
 
 To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. 
 
 Sweet Xell, ill can thy noble mind abrook lO 
 
 The abject people gazing on thy face. 
 
 With envious looks laughing at thy shame, 
 
 That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels, 
 
 When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. 
 
 But, soft ! I think she comes ; and I '11 prepare 
 
 My tear-stain 'd eyes to see her miseries. 
 
 Enter the Duchess of Gloucester in a zvhite sheet, and a 
 taper burning in her hand; zvith Sir John Stanley, 
 the Sheriff, and Officers. 
 
 Serv. So please your grace, we '11 take her from the sheriff. 
 Glou. No, stir not, for your lives ; let her pass by. 
 Dnch. Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? 
 
 Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze ! 
 
 See how the giddy multitude do point, 21 
 
 And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee ! 
 
 Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, 
 
 55
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And, in thy closet pent up, rue mv shame, 
 And ban thine enemies, both min^ and hine! 
 
 Glou. Be patient, gentle Nell ; forget this grief. 
 
 Diich. Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! 
 For whilst I think I am thy married wife, 
 And thou a prince, protector of this land, 
 IMethinks I should not thus be led along, 30 
 
 IMail'd up in shame, with papers on my back. 
 And foUow'd with a rabble that rejoice 
 To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans. 
 The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet. 
 And when I start, the envious people laugh, 
 And bid me be advised how I tread. 
 Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? 
 Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world. 
 Or count them happy that enjoy the sun ? 
 No ; dark shall be my light and night my day ; 40 
 To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. 
 Sometime I '11 say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife. 
 And he a prince and ruler of the land : 
 Yet so he ruled, and such a prince he was. 
 As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess. 
 Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock 
 To every idle rascal follower. 
 But be thou mild and blush not at my shame. 
 Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death 
 Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will ; 50 
 
 For Suffolk — he that can do all in all 
 W^ith her that hateth thee and hates us all — 
 And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest. 
 Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings. 
 And, fly thou how thou canst, they '11 tangle thee : 
 
 56
 
 KING HENRY VL Act II. Sc. iv. 
 
 But fear not tliou, until thy foot be snared, 
 Nor never seek prevention of thy foes. 
 Gloit. Ah, Xell, forbear! thou aimest all awry; 
 I must offend before I be attainted ; 
 And had 1 twenty, times so many foes, 60 
 
 And each of them had twenty times their power, 
 All these could not procure me any scathe, 
 So long as I am loyal, true and crimeless. 
 Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach ? 
 Why, yet thy scandal were not wnped away. 
 But I in danger for the breach of law. 
 Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell : 
 I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience ; 
 These few days' wonder will be quickly worn. 
 
 Enter a Herald. 
 
 Her. I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament, 
 Holden at Bury the first of this next month. 71 
 
 Gloti. And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before ! 
 This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. 
 
 [Exit Herald. 
 My Nell, I take my leave : and, master sheriff. 
 Let not her penance exceed the king's commission. 
 
 Sher. An 't please your grace, here my commission stays, 
 And Sir John Stanley is appointed now 
 To take her with him to the Isle of Man. 
 
 Gloii. Must you. Sir John, protect my lady here? 
 
 Stan. So am I given in charge, may 't please your grace. 
 
 Gloii. Entreat her not the worse in that I pray 81 
 
 You use her well : the world may laugh again ; 
 And I may live to do you kindness if 
 You do it her : and so. Sir John, farewell ! 
 
 57
 
 Act II. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Duch. What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell ! 
 Glou. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. 
 
 [Exeunt Gloucester and Serving-men. 
 Duch. Art thou gone too ? all comfort go with thee ! 
 
 For none abides with me: my joy is death, — 
 
 Death, at whose name I oft have been afear'd, 
 
 Because I wish'd this world's eternity. 90 
 
 Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence ; 
 
 I care not whither, for I beg no favour, 
 
 Only convey me where thou art commanded. 
 Stan. Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man ; 
 
 There to be used according to your state. 
 Duch. That 's bad enough, for I am but reproach : 
 
 And shall I then be used reproachfully ? 
 Stan. Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady ; 
 
 According to that state you shall be used. 
 Duch. Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare, 100 
 
 Although thou hast been conduct of my shame. 
 Sher. It is my office ; and, madam, pardon me. 
 Duch. Ay, ay, farewell ; thy office is discharged. 
 
 Come, Stanley, shall we go? 
 Stan. Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet, 
 
 And go we to attire you for our journey. 
 Duch. My shame will not be shifted with my sheet : 
 
 No,' it will hang upon my richest robes, 
 
 And show itself, attire me how I can. 
 
 Go, lead the way ; I long to see my prison. no 
 
 [Exe^mt. 
 
 58
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 The Abbey at Bury Saint Edmund's. 
 
 Sound a Sennet. Enter King, Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, 
 Suffolk, York, Buckingham, Salisbury and Warwick 
 to the Parliament. 
 
 King. I muse my Lord of Gloucester is not come : 
 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, 
 Whate'er occasion keeps him from us now. 
 
 Queen. Can you not see? or will ye not observe 
 The strangeness of his alter'd countenance? 
 With what a majesty he bears himself, 
 How insolent of late he is become, 
 How proud, how peremptory, and unlike himself ? 
 We know the time since he was mild and affable, 
 And if we did but glance a far-off look, lo 
 
 Immediately he was upon his knee. 
 That all the court admired him for submission : 
 But meet him now, and, be it in the morn, 
 When every one will give the time of day, 
 He knits his brow and shows an angry eye, 
 And passeth by with stiff unbowed knee. 
 Disdaining duty that to us belongs. 
 Small curs are not regarded when they grin ; 
 But great men tremble when the lion roars ; 
 And Humphrey is no little man in England. 20 
 
 First note that he is near you in descent, 
 And should you fall, he is the next will mount. 
 Me seemeth then it is no policy. 
 Respecting what a rancorous mind he bears. 
 And his advantage following your decease, 
 
 59
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 That he should come about your royal person,. 
 Or be admitted to your highness' council. 
 By flattery hath he won the commons' hearts, 
 And when he please to make commotion, 
 'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. 30 
 
 Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-rooted ; 
 Suffer them now, and they '11 o'ergrow the garden, 
 And choke the herbs for want of husbandry. 
 The reverent care I bear unto my lord 
 Made me collect these dangers in the duke. 
 If it be fond, call it a woman's fear ; 
 Which fear if better reasons can supplant, 
 I will subscribe and say I wrong'd the duke. 
 My Lord of Suffolk, Buckingham, and York, 
 Reprove my allegation, if you can ; 40 
 
 Or else conclude my words effectual. 
 Suf. Well hath your highness seen into this duke ; 
 And, had I first been put to speak my mind, 
 I think I should have told your grace's tale. 
 The duchess by his subornation. 
 Upon my Hfe, began her devilish practices : 
 Or, if he were not privy to those faults. 
 Yet, by reputing of his high descent. 
 As next the king he was successive heir, 
 And such high vaunts of his nobility, 50 
 
 Did instigate the bedlam brain-sick duchess 
 By wicked means to frame our sovereign's fall. 
 Smooth runs the water where the brook is deep ; 
 And in his simple show he harbours treason. 
 The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb. 
 No, no, my sovereign ; Gloucester is a man 
 Unsounded yet and full of deep deceit. 
 60
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law, 
 
 Devise strange deaths for small offences done ? 
 
 York. And did he not, in his protectorship, 60 
 
 Levy great sums of money through the realm 
 For soldiers' pay in France, and never sent it ? 
 By means whereof the towns each day revolted. 
 
 Buck. Tut, these are petty faults to faults unknown. 
 
 Which time will bring to light in smooth Duke 
 Humphrey. 
 
 King. My lords, at once : the care you have of us. 
 To mow down thorns that would annoy our foot, 
 Is worthy praise : but, shall I speak my conscience, 
 Our kinsman Gloucester is as innocent 
 From meaning treason to our royal person, 70 
 
 As is the sucking lamb or harmless dove : 
 The duke is virtuous, mild and too well given 
 To dream on evil or to work my downfall. 
 
 Queen. Ah, what's more dangerous than this fond affiance ! 
 Seems he a dove ? his feathers are but borrow'd. 
 For he 's disposed as the hateful raven : 
 Is he a lamb ? his skin is surely lent him, 
 For he 's inclined as is the ravenous wolf. 
 Who cannot steal a shape that means deceit ? 
 Take heed, my lord ; the welfare of us all 80 
 
 Hangs on the cutting short that fraudful man. 
 
 Enter Somerset. 
 
 Som. All health unto my gracious sovereign ! 
 
 King. Welcome, Lord Somerset. What news from France ? 
 
 Som. That all your interest in those territories 
 
 Is utterly bereft you ; all is lost. 
 King, Cold news. Lord Somerset : but God's will be done ! 
 
 61
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 York. [Aside] Cold news for me ; for I had hope of France 
 As firmly as I hope for fertile England. 
 Thus are my blossoms blasted in the bud, 
 And caterpillars eat my leaves away ; 90 
 
 But I will remedy this gear ere long, 
 Or sell my title for a glorious grave. 
 
 Enter Gloucester. 
 
 Gloii. All happiness unto my lord the king! 
 
 Pardon, my liege, that I have stay'd so long. 
 
 Siif. Nay, Gloucester, know that thou art come too soon, 
 Unless thou wert more loyal than thou art : 
 I do arrest thee of high treason here. 
 
 Glou. Well, Sufifolk, thou shalt not see me blush. 
 Nor change my countenance for this arrest : 
 A heart unspotted is not easily daunted. 100 
 
 The purest spring is not so free from mud 
 As I am clear from treason to my sovereign : 
 Who can accuse me ? wherein am I guilty ? 
 
 York. 'Tis thought, my lord, that you took bribes of France, 
 And, being protector, stay'd the soldiers' pay ; 
 By means whereof his highness hath lost France. 
 
 Glou. Is it but thought so ? what are they that think it ? 
 I never robb'd the soldiers of their pay. 
 Nor ever had one penny bribe from France. 
 So help me God, as I have watch'd the night, no 
 Ay, night by night, in studying good for England ! 
 That doit that e'er I wrested from the king, 
 Or any groat I hoarded to my use. 
 Be brought against me at my trial-day ! 
 No ; many a pound of mine own proper store. 
 Because I would not tax the needy commons, 
 
 62
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Have I dispursed to the garrisons. 
 And never ask'd for restitution. 
 
 Car. It serves you well, my lord, to say so much. 
 
 Clou. I say no more than truth, so help me God ! 120 
 
 York. In your protectorship you did devise 
 
 Strange tortures for offenders never heard of, 
 That England was defamed by tyranny. 
 
 GIou. Why, 'tis well known that, whiles I was protector, 
 Pity was all the fault that was in me ; 
 For I should melt ai an offender's tears. 
 And lowly words were ransom for their fault. 
 Unless it were a bloody murderer, 
 Or foul felonious thief that fleeced poor passengers, 
 I never gave them condign punishment : 130 
 
 Murder indeed, that bloody sin, I tortured 
 Above the felon or what trespass else. 
 
 Suf. My lord, these faults are easy, quickly answer'd : 
 But mightier crimes are laid unto your charge, 
 Whereof you cannot easily purge yourself. 
 I do arrest you in his highness' name : 
 And here commit you to my lord cardinal 
 To keep, until your further time of trial. 
 
 King. My Lord of Gloucester, 'tis my special hope 
 
 That you will clear yourself from all suspect : 140 
 
 My conscience tells me }()u are innocent. 
 
 Clou. Ah, gracious lord, these days are dangerous : 
 Virtue is choked with foul ambition, 
 And charity chased hence by rancour's hand ; 
 Foul subornation is predominant. 
 And equity exiled your highness' land. 
 T know their complot is to have my life ; 
 And if my death might make this island happy, 
 
 63
 
 Act lII.Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And prove the period of their tyranny, 
 
 I would expend it with all willingness : 150 
 
 But mine is made the prologue to their play : 
 
 For thousands more, that yet suspect no peril, 
 
 Will not conclude their plotted tragedy. 
 
 Beaufort's red sparkling eyes blab his heart's malice, 
 
 And Suffolk's cloudy brow his stormy hate ; 
 
 Sharp Buckingham unburthens wnth his tongue 
 
 The envious load that lies upon his heart ; 
 
 And dogged York, that reaches at the moon, 
 
 Whose overweening arm I have pluck'd back. 
 
 By false accuse doth level at my life : 160 
 
 And you, my sovereign lady, with the rest. 
 
 Causeless have laid disgraces on my head. 
 
 And with your best endeavour have stirr'd up 
 
 My liefest liege to be mine enemy : 
 
 Ay, all of you have laid your heads together — 
 
 Myself had notice of your conventicles — 
 
 And all to make away my guiltless life. 
 
 I shall not waiiit false witness to condemn me. 
 
 Nor store of treasons to augment my guilt ; 
 
 The ancient proverb will be well effected : 170 
 
 * A staff is quickly found to beat a dog.' 
 
 Car. My liege, his railing is intolerable : 
 
 If those that care to keep your royal person 
 From treason's secret knife and traitors' rage. 
 Be thus upbraided, chid and rated at. 
 And the offender granted scope of speech, 
 'Twill make them cool in zeal unto your grace. 
 
 Suf. Hath he not twit our sovereign lady here 
 
 With ignominious words, though clerkly couch'd. 
 As if she had suborned some to swear 180 
 
 64
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 False allegations to o'ertlirow his state? 
 
 Queen. But I can give the loser leave to chide. 
 
 Gloii. Far truer spoke than meant: I lose, indeed; 
 Beshrew the winners, for they play'd me false ! 
 And well such losers may have leave to speak. 
 
 Buck, He '11 wrest the sense and hold us here all day : 
 Lord cardinal, he is your prisoner. 
 
 Car. Sirs, take away the duke, and guard him sure. 
 
 Glou. Ah ! thus King Henry throws away his crutch, 
 
 Before his legs be firm to bear his body. 190 
 
 Thus is the shepherd beaten from thy side, 
 And wolves are gnarling who shall gnaw thee first. 
 Ah, that my fear were false ! ah, that it were ! 
 For, good King Henry, thy decay I fear. 
 
 [ Exit, guarded. 
 
 King. My lords, what to your wisdom seemeth best. 
 Do or undo, as if ourself were here. 
 
 Queen. What, will your highness leave the Parliament? 
 
 King. Ay, Margaret ; my heart is drown'd with grief. 
 Whose flood begins to flow within mine eyes. 
 My body round engirt with miser \-, 200 
 
 For what "s more miserable than discontent? 
 Ah, uncle Humphrey ! in thy face 1 see 
 The map of honour, truth and loyalty : 
 And yet, good Humphrey, is the hour to come 
 That e'er I proved thee false or fear'd thy faith. 
 What louring star now envies thy estate. 
 That these great lords and ^largaret our queen 
 Do seek subversion of thy harmless life? 
 Thou never didst them wrong nor no man wrong ; 
 And as the butcher takes away the calf, 210 
 
 And binds the wTetch, and beats it when it strays, 
 
 65
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Bearing it to the bloody slaughter-house, 
 Even so remorseless have they borne him hence ; 
 And as the dam runs lowing up and down, 
 Looking the way her harmless young one went, 
 And can do nought but wail her darling's loss, 
 Even so myself bewails good Gloucester's case 
 With sad unhelpful tears, and with dimm'd eyes 
 Look after him and cannot do him good, 
 So mighty are his vowed enemies. 220 
 
 His fortunes I will weep, and 'twixt each groan 
 ■ Say ' Who's a traitor? Gloucester he is none.' 
 [Exeunt all hut Queen, Cardinal Beaufort, Suffolk, 
 and York.. Somerset remains apart. 
 Queen. Free lords, cold snow melts with the sun's hot beams. 
 Henry my lord is cold in great affairs. 
 Too full of foolish pity, and Gloucester's show 
 Beguiles him, as the mournful crocodile 
 With sorrow snares relenting passengers, 
 Or as the snake roll'd in a flowering bank, 
 With shining checkered slough, doth sting a child 
 That for the beauty thinks it excellent. 230 
 
 Believe me, lords, were none more wise than I — 
 And yet herein I judge mine own wit good — 
 This Gloucester should be quickly rid the world, 
 To rid us from the fear we have of him. 
 
 Car. That he should die is worthy policy ; 
 But yet we want a colour for his death : 
 'Tis meet he be condemn'd by course of law. 
 
 Suf. But, in my mind, that were no policy : 
 The king will labour still to save his life. 
 The commons haply rise, to save his life ; 240 
 
 And yet we have but trivial argument, 
 
 66 _-^'
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 More than mistrust, that shows him worthy death. 
 
 York. So that, by this, you would not have him die. 
 
 Siif. Ah, York, no man aHve so fain as I ! 
 
 York. 'Tis York that liath more reason for his death. 
 But, my lord cardinal, and you, my Lord of Suffolk. 
 Say as you think, and speak it from your souls : 
 Were 't not all one, an empty eagle were set 
 To guard the chicken from a hungry kite, 
 As place Duke Humphrey for the king's protector? 
 
 Queen. So the poor chicken should be sure of death. 25 T 
 
 Siif. Madam, 'tis true ; and were 't not madness, then, 
 To make the fox surveyor of the fold : 
 Who being accused a crafty murderer. 
 His guilt should be but idly posted over. 
 Because his purpose is not executed. 
 No ; let him die, in that he is a fox, 
 By nature proved an enemy to the flock. 
 Before his chaps be stain'd with crimson blood, 
 As Humphrey, proved by reasons, to my liege. 260 
 And do not stand on quillets how to slay him : 
 Be it by gins, by snares, by subtlety. 
 Sleeping or waking, 'tis no matter how. 
 So he be dead ; for that is good deceit 
 Which mates him first that first intends deceit. 
 
 Queen. Thrice-noble Sufifolk, 'tis resolutely spoke. 
 
 Siif. Not resolute, except so much were done : 
 
 For things are often spoke and seldom meant : 
 But that my heart accordeth with my tongue, 
 Seeing the deed is meritorious, 270 
 
 And to preserve my sovereign from his foe. 
 Say but the word, and T will be his priest. 
 
 Car. But I would have him dead, my Lord of Suffolk, 
 
 67
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Ere you can take due orders for a priest : 
 
 Say you consent and censure well the deed, 
 
 And I'll provide his executioner, 
 
 I tender so the safety of my liege. 
 Suf, Here is my hand, the deed is worthy doing-. 
 Queen, And so say I. 
 York. And I : and now we three have spoke it, 280 
 
 It skills not greatly who impugns our doom. 
 
 Enter a Post. 
 
 Post. Great lords, from Ireland am I come amain. 
 To signify that rebels there are up, 
 And put the Englishmen unto the sword : 
 Send succours, lords, and stop the rage betime, 
 Before the wound do grow uncurable ; 
 For, being green, there is great hope of help. 
 
 Car. A breach that craves a quick expedient stop ! 
 What counsel give you in this weighty cause? 
 
 York. That Somerset be sent as regent thither : 290 
 
 Tis meet that lucky ruler be employ'd ; 
 Witness the fortune he hath had in France. 
 
 Som. If York, with all his far-fet policy. 
 
 Had been the regent there instead of me, 
 He never would have stay'd in France so long. 
 
 York. No, not to lose it all, as thou hast done : 
 I rather would have lost my life betimes 
 Than bring a burthen of dishonour home, 
 By staying there so long till all were lost. 
 Show me one scar character'd on thy skin : 300 
 
 Alen's flesh preserved so whole do seldom win. 
 
 Queeji. Nay, then, this spark will prove a raging fire. 
 If wind and fuel be brought to feed it with : 
 
 68
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. i. 
 
 Xo more, good York ; sweet Somerset, be still : 
 Thv fortune, York, hadst thou been regent there. 
 Might happily have proved far worse than his. 
 
 York. What, worse than nought? nay, then, a shame 
 take all ! 
 
 Som. And, in the number, thee that wishest shame ! 
 
 Car. \[y Lord of York, try what your fortune is. 
 
 The uncivil kernes of Ireland are in arms, 310 
 
 And temper clay with blood of Englishmen : 
 •To Ireland will you lead a band of men, 
 Collected choicely, from each county some, 
 And try your hap against the Irishmen ? 
 
 York. I will, my lord, so please his majesty. 
 
 Suf. Why, our authority is his consent. 
 And what we do establish he confirms : 
 Then, noble York, take thou this task in hand. 
 
 York. I am content : provide me soldiers, lords, 
 
 Whiles I take order for mine own affairs. 320 
 
 Suf. A charge. Lord York, that I will see perform'd. 
 But now return we to the false Duke Humphrey. 
 
 Car. Xo more of him ; for I will deal with him, 
 That henceforth he shall trouble us no more. 
 And so break off ; the day is almost spent : 
 Lord Suffolk, you and I must talk of that event. 
 
 York. My Lord of Suffolk, within fourteen days 
 At Bristol I expect my soldiers ; 
 For there I '11 ship them all for Ireland. 
 
 Suf. I '11 see it truly done, my Lord of York. 330 
 
 [Exeunt all but York. 
 
 York, Xow, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts, 
 And change misdoubt to resolution : 
 Be that thou hopest to be, or wdiat thou art 
 
 69
 
 Act III. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Resign to death; it is not worth the enjoying: 
 Let pale-faced fear keep with the mean-born man, 
 And find no harbour in a royal heart. 
 Faster than spring-time showers comes thought on 
 
 thought, 
 And not a thought but thinks, on dignity. 
 My brain more busy than the labouring spider 
 Weaves tedious snares to trap mine enemies. 340 
 
 Well, nobles, well, 'tis politicly done. 
 To send me packing with an host of men : 
 I fear me you but warm the starved snake. 
 Who, cherish'd in your breasts, will sting your hearts. 
 'Twas men I lack'd, and you will give them me : 
 I take it kindly ; yet be well assured 
 You put sharp weapons in a madman's hands. 
 Whiles I in Ireland nourish a mighty band, 
 I will stir up in England some black storm 
 Shall blow ten thousand souls to heaven or hell ; 
 And this fell tempest shall not cease to rage 351 
 
 Until the golden circuit on my head, 
 Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams. 
 Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw. 
 And, for a minister of my intent, 
 I have seduced a headstrong Kentishman, 
 John Cade of Ashford, 
 To make commotion, as full well he can, 
 Under the title of John Mortimer. 
 In Ireland have I seen this stubborn Cade 360 
 
 Oppose himself against a troop of kernes, 
 And fought so long, till that his thighs with darts 
 Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porpentine ; 
 And, in the end being rescued, I have seen 
 70
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Him caper upright like a wild Morisco, 
 
 Shaking the bloody darts as he his bells. 
 
 Full often, like a shag-hair'd crafty kerne, 
 
 Hath he conversed with the enemy, 
 
 And undiscover'd come to me again, 
 
 And given me notice of their villanies. 370 
 
 This devil here shall be my substitute ; 
 
 For that John Mortimer, which now is dead, 
 
 In face, in gait, in speech, he doth resemble : 
 
 By this I shall perceive the commons' mind, 
 
 How they affect the house and claim of York. 
 
 Say he be taken, rack'd and tortured, 
 
 I know no pain they can inflict upon him 
 
 Will make him say I moved him to those arms. 
 
 Say that he thrive, as 'tis great like he will, 
 
 AMiy, then from Ireland come I with my strength. 
 
 And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd ; 381 
 
 For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, 
 
 And Henry put apart, the next for me. [Exit. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Bury St. Edmund's. A room of state. 
 Enter certain Murderers, hastily. 
 
 First Mur. Run to my Lord of Suffolk ; let him know 
 We have dispatch'd the duke, as he commanded. 
 
 Sec. Mur. O that it were to do ! What have we done ? 
 Didst ever hear a man so penitent ? 
 
 Enter Suffolk. 
 
 First Mur. Here comes my lord. 
 Suf. Now, sirs, have you dispatch'd this thing? 
 
 71
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 First Mur. Ay, my good lord, he 's dead. 
 
 Siif. Why, that 's well said. Go, get you to my house ; 
 
 I will reward you for this venturous deed. 
 
 The king and all the peers are here at hand. lo 
 
 Have you laid fair the bed ? Is all things well, 
 
 According as I gave directions? 
 First Mur. Tis, my good lord. 
 Stif. Away ! be gone. [Exeunt Murderers. 
 
 Sound trumpets. Enter the King, the Queen, 
 Cardinal Beaufort, Somerset, with Attendants. 
 
 King. Go, call our uncle to our presence straight ; 
 
 Say we intend to try his grace to-day. 
 
 If he be guilty, as 'tis published. 
 Suf. I '11 call him presently, my noble lord. [Exit. 
 
 King. Lords, take your places ; and, I pray you all, 
 
 Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloucester 20 
 
 Than from true evidence of good esteem 
 
 He be approved in practice culpable. 
 Queen. God forbid any malice should prevail. 
 
 That faultless may condemn a nobleman ! 
 
 Pray God he may acquit him of suspicion ! 
 King. I thank thee, Nell ; these words content me much. 
 
 Re-enter Suffolk. 
 
 How now ! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou ? 
 
 \Miere is our uncle ? what 's the matter, Suffolk ? 
 Suf. Dead in his bed, my lord ; Gloucester is dead. 
 Queen. Marry, God forfend ! , 30 
 
 Car. God's secret judgement : I did dream to-night 
 
 The duke was dumb and could not speak a word. 
 
 [The King swoor^. 
 
 72
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Queen. How fares my lord? Help, lords ! the king is 
 dead. 
 
 Som. Rear up his body ; wring him by the nose. 
 
 Queen. Run, go, help, help ! O Henry, ope thine eyes ! 
 
 Snf. He doth revive again : madam, be patient. 
 
 King. O heavenly God ! 
 
 Queen. How fares my gracious lord? 
 
 Suf. Comfort, my sovereign ! gracious Henry, comfort ! 
 
 King. What, doth my Lord of Suffolk comfort me ? 
 
 Came he right now to sing a raven's note, 40 
 
 Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers ; 
 
 And thinks he that the chirping of a wren, 
 
 By crying comfort from a hollow breast. 
 
 Can chase away the first-conceived sound ? 
 
 Hide not thy poison with such sugar'd words ; 
 
 Lay not thy hands on me ; forbear, I say ; 
 
 Their touch affrights me as a serpent's sting. 
 
 Thou baleful messenger, out of my sight ! 
 
 Upon thy eye-balls murderous tyranny 
 
 Sits in grim majesty, to fright the world. 60 
 
 Look not upon me, for thine eyes are wounding : 
 
 Yet do not go away : come, basilisk. 
 
 And kill the innocent gazer with thy sight ; 
 
 For in the shade of death I shall find joy ; 
 
 In life but double death, now Gloucester 's dead. 
 
 Queen. Why do you rate my Lord of Suffolk thus ? 
 Although the duke was enemy to him. 
 Yet he most Christian-like laments his death : 
 And for myself, foe as he was to me. 
 Might liquid tears, or heart-offending groans, 60 
 
 Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life, 
 I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans. 
 Look pale as primrose with blood-drinking sighs, 
 
 73
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And all to have the noble duke alive. 
 
 What know I how the world may deem of me ? 
 
 For it is known we were but hollow friends : 
 
 It may be judged I made the duke away ; 
 
 So shall my name with slander's tongue be wounded, 
 
 And princes' courts be fill'd with my reproach. 
 
 This get I by his death : ay me, unhappy ! 70 
 
 To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy ! 
 
 Ki)ig. Ah, woe is me for Gloucester, wretched man ! 
 
 Queen. Be woe for me, more wretched than he is. 
 W hat, dost thou turn away and hide thy face ? 
 I am no loathsome leper ; look on me. 
 What ! art thou, like the adder, waxen deaf ? 
 Be poisonous too and kill thy forlorn queen. 
 Is all thy comfort shut in Gloucester's tomb? 
 Why, then, dame Eleanor was ne'er thy joy. 
 Erect his statue and worship it, 80 
 
 And make my image but an alehouse sign. 
 Was I for this nigh wreck'd upon the sea. 
 And twice by awkward wind from England's bank 
 Drove back again unto my native clime ? 
 \Miat boded this, but well forewarning wind 
 Did seem to say ' Seek not a scorpion's nest. 
 Nor set no footing on this unkind shore ' ? 
 What did I then, but cursed the gentle gusts. 
 And he that loosed them forth their brazen caves : 
 And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore, 
 Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock? 91 
 
 Yet ^olus would not be a murderer. 
 But left that hateful office imto thee : 
 The pretty-vaulting sea refused to drown me, 
 Knowing that thou wouldst have me drown'd on 
 shore, 
 
 74
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 With tears as salt as sea, through thy unkindness : 
 
 The spHtting rocks cower'd in the sinking sands, 
 
 And would not dash me with their ragged sides, 
 
 Because thy flinty heart, more hard than they, 
 
 Might in thy palace perish Eleanor. loo 
 
 As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs. 
 
 When from thy shore the tempest beat us back, 
 
 I stood upon the hatches in the storm, 
 
 And when the dusky sky began to rob 
 
 My earnest-gaping sight of thy land's view, 
 
 I took a costly jewel from my neck — 
 
 A heart it was, bound in with diamonds — 
 
 And threw it towards thy land : the sea received it, 
 
 And so I wish'd thy body might my heart : 
 
 And even with this I lost fair England's view, i lo 
 
 And bid mine eyes be packing with my heart. 
 
 And call'd them blind and dusky spectacles, 
 
 For losing ken of Albion's wished coast. 
 
 How often have I tempted Suffolk's tongue. 
 
 The agent of thy foul inconstancy. 
 
 To sit and witch me, as Ascanius did. 
 
 When he to madding Dido would unfold 
 
 His father's acts commenced in burning Troy ! 
 
 Am I not witch'd like her ? or thou not false like him ? 
 
 Ay me, I can no more ! die, Eleanor ! 120 
 
 For Henry weeps that thou dost live so long. 
 
 Noise zvithin. Enter IVarzcick, Salisbury, and 
 many Commons. 
 
 War. It is reported, mighty sovereign. 
 
 That good Duke Humphrey traitorously is murder'd 
 By Suffolk and the Cardinal Beaufort's means. 
 
 75
 
 Act III. Sc ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 The commons, like an angry hive of bees 
 That want their leader, scatter up and down, 
 And care not who they sting in his revenge. 
 Myself have calm'd their spleenful mutiny, 
 Until they hear the order of his death. 
 
 Kijig. That he is dead, good Warwick, 'tis too true ; 130 
 But how he died God knows, not Henry : 
 Enter his chamber, view his breathless corpse, 
 And comment then upon his sudden death. 
 
 JVar. That shall I do, my liege. Stay, Salisbury, 
 
 With the rude multitude till I return. [Exit. 
 
 King. O Thou that judgest all things, stay my thoughts. 
 My thoughts, that labour to persuade my soul 
 Some violent hands were laid on Humphrey's life ! 
 If my suspect be false, forgive me, God ; 
 For judgement only doth belong to Thee. 140 
 
 Fain would I go to chafe his paly lips 
 With twenty thousand kisses, and to drain 
 Upon his face an ocean of salt tears, 
 To tell my love unto his dumb deaf trunk, 
 And with my fingers feel his hand unfeeling: 
 But all in vain are these mean obsequies ; 
 And to survey his dead and earthly image. 
 What were it but to make my sorrow greater ? 
 
 Re-enter Warwick and others, bearing 
 Gloucester's body on a bed. 
 
 War. Come hither, gracious sovereign, view this body. 
 King. That is to see how deep my grave is made ; 150 
 
 For with his soul fled all my worldly solace, 
 
 For seeing him I see my life in death. 
 War. As surely as my soul intends to live 
 
 76
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 With that dread King, that took our state upon him 
 To free us from his father's wrathful curse, 
 I do beHeve that violent hands were laid 
 Upon the life of this thrice-famed duke. 
 
 Suf. A dreadful oath, sworn with a solemn tongue ! 
 What instance gives Lord Warwick for his vow ? 
 
 Jl'ai\ See how the blood is settled in his face. i6o 
 
 Oft have I seen a timely-parted ghost. 
 Of ashy semblance, meagre, pale and bloodless 
 Being all descended to the labouring heart ; 
 Who, in the conflict that it holds with death, 
 Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy ; 
 Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth 
 To blush and beautify the cheek again. 
 But see, his face is black and full of blood, 
 His eye-balls further out than when he lived, 
 Staring full ghastly like a strangled man ; 170 
 
 His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch' d with 
 
 struggling ; 
 His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd 
 And tugg'd for life and was by strength subdued : 
 Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking ; 
 His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged, 
 Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged. 
 It cannot be but he was murder'd here ; 
 The least of all these signs were probable. 
 
 Suf. Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death ? 
 Myself and Beaufort had him in protection ; 180 
 
 And we, I hope, sir, are no murderers. 
 
 War. But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes, 
 And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep : 
 'Tis like you would not feast him like a friend; 
 And 'tis well seen he found an enemy. 
 
 77
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Queen. Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen 
 As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death. 
 
 War. 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 puttock's nest, 191 
 But may imagine how the bird was dead. 
 Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak? 
 Even so suspicious is this tragedy. 
 
 Queen. Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where 's your 
 knife? 
 Is Beaufort term'd a kite ? Where are his talons ? 
 
 Suf. I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men ; 
 
 But here 's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease, 
 That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart 
 That slanders me with murder's crimson badge. 200 
 Say, if thou darest, proud Lord of Warwickshire, 
 That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death, 
 
 [Exeunt Cardinal, Somerset, and others. 
 
 War. What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him ? 
 
 Queen. He dares not calm his contumelious spirit. 
 Nor cease to be an arrogant controller. 
 Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times. 
 
 War. Madam, be still ; with reverence may I say ; 
 For every word you speak in his behalf 
 Is slander to your royal dignity. 
 
 Suf. Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour! 210 
 
 If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much. 
 Thy mother took into her blameful bed 
 Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock 
 Was graft with crab-tree slip ; whose fruit thou art 
 And never of the Nevils' noble race. 
 
 78
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 War. But that the guilt of murder bucklers thee, 
 And I should rob the deathsman of his fee, 
 Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames, 
 And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild, 
 I would, false murderous coward, on thy knee 220 
 Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech. 
 And say it was thy mother that thou meant' st, 
 That thou thyself wast born in bastardy ; 
 And after all this fearful homage done, 
 Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell. 
 Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men ! 
 
 Siif. Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood, 
 If from this presence thou darest go with me. 
 
 War. Away even now, or I will drag thee hence : 
 
 Unworthy though thou art, I '11 cope with thee 230 
 And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost. 
 
 [Exeunt Suffolk and Warivick. 
 
 King. What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted ! 
 Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just, 
 And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel, 
 Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted. 
 
 [A noise'within. 
 
 Queen. What noise is this? 
 
 Re-enter Suffolk and Warwick, zvith their 
 zi'capons drazvn. 
 
 King. Why, how now, lords ! your wrathful weapons 
 drawn 
 
 Here in our presence ! dare you be so bold ? 
 
 Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here? 
 Siif. The traitorous Warwick with the men of Bury 240 
 
 Set all upon me, mighty sovereign. 
 
 79
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Sal. [To the Commons, entering] Sirs, stand apart; the 
 king shall know your mind. 
 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 lingering death. 
 They say, by him the good Duke Humphrey died ; 
 They say, in him they fear your highness' death ; 
 And mere instinct of love and loyalty, 250 
 
 Free from a stubborn opposite intent, 
 As being thought to contradict your liking, 
 Makes them thus forward in his banishment. 
 They say, in care of your most royal person, 
 That if your highness should intend to sleep, 
 And charge that no man should disturb your rest 
 In pain of your dislike or pain of death. 
 Yet, notwithstanding such a strait edict. 
 Were there a serpent seen, with forked tongue, 
 That slily glided towards your majesty, 260 
 
 It were but necessary you were waked, 
 Lest, being suffer'd in that harmful slumber, 
 The mortal worm might make the sleep eternal ; 
 And therefore do they cry, though you forbid. 
 That they will guard you, whether you will or no, 
 From such fell 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. 
 
 Commons [within]. An answer from the king, my Lord 
 of Salisbury ! 270 
 
 Suf. 'Tis like the commons, rude unpolish'd hinds, 
 
 80
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Could send such message to their sovereign : 
 But you, my lord, were glad to be employ'd, 
 To show how quaint an orator you are : 
 But all the honour Salisbury hath won 
 Is, that he Vv^as the lord ambassador 
 Sent from a sort of tinkers to the king. 
 
 Cormmns [zi'ithin]. An answer from the king, or we will 
 all break in ! 
 
 King. Go, Salisbury, and tell them all from me, 
 
 I thank them for their tender loving care ; 280 
 
 And had I not been cited so by them, 
 
 Yet did I purpose as they do entreat ; 
 
 For, sure, my thoughts do hourly prophesy 
 
 Mischance unto my state by Suffolk's means : 
 
 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. 
 
 Queen. O Henry, let me plead for gentle Suffolk ! 
 
 King. Ungentle queen, to call him gentle Suffolk ! 290 
 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'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 all but Queen and Suffolk. 
 
 Queen. Mischance and sorrow go along with you ! 300 
 
 81
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 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 ! 
 
 Siif. Cease, gentle queen, these execrations, 
 And let thy Suffolk take his heavy leave. 
 
 Queen. Fie, coward woman and soft-hearted w^retch ! 
 Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemy ? 
 
 Suf. A plague upon them ! wherefore should I curse them ?• 
 Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan, 310 
 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-faced Envy in her loathsome cave : 
 My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words ; 
 Mine eyes should sparkle like the beaten flint ; 
 Mine hair be fix'd on end, as one distract ; 
 Ay, every joint should seem to curse and ban : 
 And even now my burthen'd heart would break, 320 
 Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink ! 
 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 boding screech-owls make the concert full ! 
 All the foul terrors in dark-seated hell — 
 
 Queen. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself; 
 And these dread curses, like the sun 'gainst glass. 
 Or like an overcharged gun, recoil, 331 
 
 And turn the force of them upon thyself. 
 82
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. ii. 
 
 Suf. You bade me ban, and will you 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. 
 
 Queen. O, let me entreat thee cease. Give me thy hand. 
 That I may dew it with my mournful tears ; 340 
 
 Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, 
 To wash away my woful monuments. 
 O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand, 
 That thou mightst think upon these by the seal. 
 Through w^hom a thousand sighs are breathed for 
 
 thee! 
 So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief ; 
 'Tis but surmised whiles thou art standing by, 
 As one that surfeits thinking on a want. 
 I will repeal thee, or, be well assured, 
 Adventure to be banished myself : 350 
 
 And banished I am, if but from thee. 
 Go ; speak not to me ; even now be 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 thence ; 
 
 A wilderness is populous enough, 360 
 
 So Suffolk had thy heavenly company : 
 For where thou art, there is the world itself, 
 With every several pleasure in the world, 
 
 83
 
 Act III. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 And where thou art not, desolation. 
 
 I can no more : Hve thou to joy thy Hfe ; 
 
 Myself no joy in nought but that thou livest. 
 
 E)itcr Vaiix. 
 
 Queen. Whither goes Vaux so fast ? what news, I prithee ? 
 
 / \iii.v. To signify unto his majesty 
 
 That Cardinal Beaufort is at point of death ; 
 
 For suddenly a grievous sickness took him, 370 
 
 That makes him gasp and stare and catch the air, 
 
 Pjlaspheming God and cursing men on earth. 
 
 Sometime he talks as if Duke Humphrey's ghost 
 
 W^ere by his side ; sometime he c^lls 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. 
 
 Queen. Go tell this heavy message to the king. 
 
 \E.vif J^au.v. 
 Ay me ! what is this world ! what news- are these ! 
 But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss, 381 
 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 ? 
 Xow get thee hence : the king, thou know'st, is 
 
 coming ; 
 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 ? 390 
 
 Here could I breathe my soul into the air, 
 
 84
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act III. Sc. iii. 
 
 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 mine eyes, 
 To have thee with thy lips to stop my mouth ; 
 So shouldst thou either turn my flying soul, 
 Or I should breathe it so into thy body. 
 And then it lived in sweet Elysium. 
 To die by thee were but to die in jest ; 400 
 
 * From thee to die were torture more than death : 
 O, let me stay, befall what may befall ! 
 
 Queen. 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, 
 I '11 have an Iris that shall find thee out. 
 
 Suf. I go. 
 
 Queen. And take my heart with thee. 
 
 Suf. A jewel, lock'd into the wofull'st cask 
 
 That ever did contain a thing of worth. 410 
 
 Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we : 
 This way fall I to death. 
 
 Queen. This way for me. 
 
 [Exeunt severally. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 A bedchamber. 
 
 Enter the King, Salisbury, Warzvick, to the 
 Cardinal in bed. 
 
 King. How fares my lord ? speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. 
 Car. If thou be'st death, I '11 give thee England's treasure 
 Enough to purchase such another island, 
 
 85
 
 Act III. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. 
 
 King. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, 
 
 Where 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 ? wdiere should he die ? 
 
 Can I make men live, whether they will or no ? lo 
 
 O, torture me no more! I will confess. 
 
 Alive again ? then show me where he is : 
 
 I '11 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. 
 
 King. O thou eternal mover of the heavens, 
 
 Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch ! 20 
 
 O, beat away the busy meddling fiend 
 
 That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, 
 
 And from his bosom purge this black despair ! 
 
 JVar. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin ! 
 
 Sal. Disturb him not ; let him pass peaceably. 
 
 King. Peace to his soul, if God's good pleasure be ! 
 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 ! 
 
 JVar. So bad a death argues a monstrous life. 30 
 
 King. Forbear to judge, for \\q are sinners all. 
 Close up his eyes and draw the curtain close ; 
 And let us all to meditation. [Exeunt. 
 
 m
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 The coast of Kent. 
 
 Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a Cap- 
 fain, a Master, a Masters-Mate, Walter Whitmore, 
 and others; with them Suffolk, and others, prisoners. 
 
 Cap. The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day 
 Is crept into the bosom of the sea ; 
 And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades 
 That drag the tragic 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 ransom on the sand, lo 
 Or with their blood stain this discoloured shore. 
 Master, this prisoner freely give I thee ; 
 And thou that art his mate, make boot of this ; 
 The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share. 
 
 First Gent. What is my ransom, 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 thousand crowns. 
 And bear the name and port of gentlemen ? 
 Cut both the villains' throats ; for die you shall : 20 
 The lives of those which we have lost in fight 
 Be counterpoised with such a petty sum ! 
 
 First Gent. I '11 give it, sir ; and therefore spare my life. 
 
 Sec. Gent. And so will I, and write home for it straight. 
 
 87
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 IVhit. I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard, 
 And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die ; 
 
 [ToSiif. 
 And so should these, if I might have my will. 
 
 Cap. Be not so rash ; take ransom, let him live. 
 
 Suf. Look on my George ; I am a gentleman : 
 
 Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. 30 
 
 IV hit. And so am I ; my name is Walter Whitmore. 
 
 How now ! why start'st thou ? 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 thee be bloody-minded ; 
 Thy name is Gualtier, being rightly sounded. 
 
 JVhit. Gualtier or Walter, which it is, I care not : 
 Never yet did base dishonour blur our name. 
 But with our sword we wiped away the blot ; 40 
 
 Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge, 
 Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced. 
 And I proclaim'd a coward through the world ! 
 
 Suf. Stay, Whitmore ; for thv prisoner is a prince, 
 The Duke of Suffolk, W^illiam de la Pole. 
 
 Jlliit. The Duke of Suffolk, muffled up in rags! 
 
 Suf. Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke : 
 Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I ? 
 
 Cap. But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be. 
 
 Suf. Obscure and lowly swain. King Henry's blood, 50 
 The honourable blood of Lancaster, 
 Must not be shed by such a jaded groom. 
 Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup ? 
 Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule, 
 
 88
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 And thought thee happy when I shook my head? 
 
 How often hast thou waited at my cup. 
 
 Fed from my trencher, kneel'd 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 ; 60 
 
 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. 
 
 JVIiit. Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain ? 
 
 Cap. First let my words stab him, as he hath me. 
 
 Snf. Base slave, thy words are blunt, and so art thou. 
 
 Cap. Convey him hence and on our long-boat's side 
 Strike off his head. 
 
 Sitf. Thou darest not, for thy own. 
 
 Cap. Yes, Pole. 
 
 Suf. Pole! 
 
 Cap. Pool! Sir Pool! lord! 70 
 
 Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth nnd dirt 
 Troubles the silver spring where Fngland drinks. 
 Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth. 
 For swallowing the treasure of the realm: 
 Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground ; 
 And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's 
 
 death 
 Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain. 
 Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again: 
 And wedded be thou to the hags of hell. 
 For daring to affy a mighty lord 80 
 
 Unto the daughter of a worthless king. 
 Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem. 
 
 89
 
 Act IV. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 By devilish policy art thou grown great, 
 And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged 
 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, surprised our forts, 
 And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. 90 
 The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all, 
 Whose dreadful swords w^ere 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-faced sun, striving to shine, 
 Under the which is writ ' Invitis nubibus.' 
 The commons here in Kent are up in arms: 100 
 
 And, to conclude, reproach and beggary 
 Is crept into the palace of our king. 
 And all by thee. Away ! convey him hence. 
 Siif. 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 : 
 It is impossible that I should die no 
 
 By such a lowly vassal as thyself. 
 Thy words move rage and not remorse in me: 
 I go of message from the queen to France; 
 I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel. 
 90
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. i. 
 
 Cap. Walter,— 
 
 Whit. Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death. 
 
 Suf. Gelidus timor occupat artus : it is thee I fear. 
 
 Whit. Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee. 
 What, are ye daunted now ? now will ye stoop ? 
 
 First Gent. '\\\ gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair. 
 
 Suf. Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough, 121 
 Used to command, untaught to plead for favour. 
 Far be it we should honour such as these 
 With humble suit : no, rather let my head 
 Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any 
 Save to the God of heaven and to my king ; 
 And sooner dance upon a bloody pole 
 Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom. 
 True nobility is exempt from fear : 
 ]\Iore can I bear than you dare execute. 130 
 
 Cap. Hale him away, and let him talk no more. 
 
 Suf. Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can, 
 That this my death may never be forgot ! 
 Great men oft die by vile bezonians : 
 A Roman sworder and banditto slave 
 Murder'd sweet Tully ; Brutus' bastard hand 
 Stabb'd Julius Caesar ; savage islanders 
 Pompey the Great ; and Suffolk dies by pirates. 
 
 [Exeunt Whitniore and others with Suffolk. 
 
 Cap. And as for these whose ransom we have set. 
 
 It is our pleasure one of them depart : 140 
 
 Therefore come you with us and let him go. 
 
 [Exeunt all but the First Gentleman. 
 
 Re-enter Whitmore zcith Suffolk's body. 
 
 Whit. There let his head and lifeless body lie, 
 
 91
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Until the queen his mistress bury it. [Exit. 
 
 First Gent. O barbarous and bloody spectacle ! 
 His body will I bear unto the king : 
 If he revenge it not, yet will his friends ; 
 So will the queen, that living held him dear. 
 
 [Exit zvitli the body. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Blackheath. 
 Enter George Bez'is and John Holland. 
 
 Bez'is. Come, and get thee a sword, though made 
 of a lath : they have been up these two 
 days. 
 
 Holl. They have the more need to sleep now, then. 
 
 Bezis. I tell thee. Jack Cade the clothier means to 
 dress the commonwealth, and turn it, and set a 
 new nap upon it. 
 
 Holl. So he had need, for "tis threadbare. Well, I 
 say it was never merry world in England since 
 gentlemen came up. lo 
 
 Bcz'is. O miserable age ! virtue is not regarded in 
 handicrafts-men. 
 
 Holl. The nobility think scorn to go in leather aprons. 
 
 Bevis. Nay, more, the king's council are no good 
 workmen. 
 
 Holl. True ; and yet it is said, labour in thy voca- 
 tion : which is as much to say as, let the 
 magistrates be labouring men ; and therefore 
 should we be magistrates. 
 
 Bevis. Thou hast hit it ; for there 's no better sign of 20 
 a brave mind than a hard hand. 
 
 92
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 II oil. I see them ! 1 see them ! There 's Best's son, 
 
 the tanner of Wingham, — 
 Bevis. He shall have the skins of our enemies, to make 
 
 dog's-leather of. 
 Holl. And Dick the butcher, — 
 Bevis. Then is sin struck down like anox,an(liniquity's 
 
 throat cut like a calf. 
 Holl. And Smith the Weaver, — 
 
 Bevis. Argo, their thread of life is spun. 30 
 
 Holl. Come, come, let 's fall in with them. 
 
 Drimi. Enter Cade, Dick Butcher, Smith the JVeaver, 
 and a Sawyer, with infinite numbers. 
 
 Cade. We John Cade, so termed of our supposed 
 
 father, — 
 Dick. [Aside] Or rather, of stealingacadeof herrings. 
 Cade. For our enemies shall fall before us, inspired 
 
 with the s])irit of putting down kings and 
 
 princes, — Command silence. 
 Dick. Silence! 
 
 Cade. My father w^as a Mortimer, — 
 Dick. [Aside] He was an honest man, and a good 40 
 
 bricklayer. 
 Cade. My mother a Plantagenet, — 
 Dick. [Aside] I knew her well ; she w^as a midwife. 
 Cade. My wife descended of the Lacies, — 
 Dick. [Aside] She w^as, indeed, a pedler's daughter, 
 
 and sold many laces. 
 Smith. [Aside] But now of late, not able to travel with 
 
 her furred pack, she washes bucks here at home. 
 Cade. Therefore am I of an honourable house. 
 Dick. [Aside] Ay, by my faith, the field is honour- Jo 
 
 93
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 able ; and there was he born, under a hedge, for 
 his father had never a house but the cage. 
 
 Cade. Valiant I am. 
 
 Smith. [Aside] A' must needs ; for beggary is valiant- 
 Cat/^. I am able to endure much. 
 
 Dick. [Aside] Noquestionof that ; for I have seen him 
 whipped three market-days together. 
 
 Cade. I fear neither sword nor fire. 
 
 Smith. [Aside] He need not fear the sword ; for his 
 
 coat is of proof. 60 
 
 Dick. [Aside] But methinks he should stand in fear of 
 fire ; being burnt i' the hand for stealing of sheep. 
 
 Cade. Be brave, then ; for your captain is brave, and 
 vows reformation. There shall be in England 
 seven halfpenny loaves sold for a penny : the 
 three-hooped pot shall have ten hoops ; and I 
 will make it felony to drink small beer: all the 
 realm shall be in common ; and in Cheapside 
 shall my palf ry go to grass : and when I am 
 king, as king I will be, — 70 
 
 All. God save your majesty! 
 
 Cade. I thank you, good people : there shall be no 
 money; all' shall eat and drink on my score; 
 and I will apparel them all in one livery, that 
 they may agree like brothers, and worship me 
 their lord. 
 
 Dick. The first thing we do, let 's kill all the 
 
 lawyers. 
 Cade. Nay, that I mean to do. Is not this a lament- 
 able thing, that of the skin of an innocent lamb 80 
 should be made parchment ? that parchment, 
 beingf scribbled o'er, should undo a man ? Some 
 
 94
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 say the bee stino-s : but T say, 'tis the bee's wax ; 
 for I did but seal once to a thing, and I was never 
 mine own man since. How now ! who 's there ? 
 
 Enter some, bringing forward the Clerk of Cliaf/iani. 
 
 Smith. The clerk of Chatham : he can write and read 
 
 and cast accompt. 
 Cade, O monstrous ! 
 
 SmitJi. We took him setting of boys' copies. 
 Cade. Here 's a villain ! 90 
 
 Smith. Has a book in his pocket with red letters in 't. 
 Cade. Xay, then, he is a conjurer. 
 Dick. Xay, he can make obligations, and write courthand. 
 Cade. I am sorry for 't : the man is a proper man, of 
 
 mine honour ; unless I find him guilty, he shall 
 
 not die. Come hither, sirrali, I must examine 
 
 thee : what is thy name ? 
 Clerk. Emmanuel. 
 Dick. They use to write it on the top of letters: 
 
 'twill go hard with you. 100 
 
 Cade. Let me alone. Dost thou use to write thv 
 
 name? or hast thou a mark to thyself, like an 
 
 honest plain-dealing man ? 
 Clerk. Sir, I thank God, I have been so well brought 
 
 up that I can write my name. 
 . ///. He hath confessed : away with him ! he 's a villain 
 
 and a traitor. 
 Cade. Away with him, T say ! hang him with his pen 
 
 and ink-horn about his neck. 
 
 [E.rit one with the Clerk. 
 
 Enter Michael. 
 Mich. Where 's our general ? IIO 
 
 95
 
 Act IV. Sc. ii.. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Cade. Here I am, thou particular fellow. 
 
 Mich. Fly, fly, fly ! Sir Humphrey Stafford and his 
 brother are hard by, with the king's forces. 
 
 Cade, Stand, villain, stand, or I '11 fell thee down. 
 He shall be encountered with a man as good as 
 himself : he is but a knight, is a' ? 
 
 Mich. No. 
 
 Cade. To equal him, I will make myself a knight pre- 
 sently. [Kneels] Rise up. Sir John Mortimer. 
 [Rises] Now have at him! 120 
 
 Enter Sir Humphrey Stafford and his Brother, zi'ith 
 drum and soldiers. 
 
 Staf. Rebellious hinds, the filth and scum of Kent, 
 
 Mark'd for the gallows, lay your weapons down ; 
 
 Home to your cottages, forsake this groom : 
 
 The king is merciful, if you revolt. 
 Bro. But angry, wrathful, and inclined to blood, 
 
 If you go forward ; therefore yield, or die. 
 Cade. As for these silken-coated slaves, I pass not : 
 
 It is to you, good people, that I speak, 
 
 Over whom, in time to come, I hope to reign ; 
 
 For I am rightful heir unto the crown. 130 
 
 Staf. Villain, thy father was a plasterer ; 
 
 And thou thyself a shearman, art thou not ? 
 Cade. And Adam was a gardener. 
 Bro. And what of that ? 
 Cade. Marry, this : Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March, 
 
 Married the Duke of Clarence' daughter, did he not ? 
 Staf. Ay, sir. 
 
 Cade. By her he had two children at one birth. 
 Bro. That 's false. 
 
 96
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. ii. 
 
 Cade. Ay, there 's the question ; but I say, "tis true : T40 
 The elder of them, being put to nurse, 
 Was by a beggar-woman stolen away ; • 
 And, ignorant of his birth and parentage, 
 Became a bricklayer when he came to age : 
 His son am I ; deny it, if you can. 
 
 Dick. Nay, 'tis too true; therefore he shall l^e king. 
 
 Smith. Sir, he made a chimney in my father's house, 
 and the bricks are alive at this day to testify it ; 
 therefore deny it not. 
 
 Staf. And will you credit this base drudge's words, 150 
 That speaks he knows not what? 
 
 All. Ay, marry, will we ; therefore get ye gone. 
 
 Bro. Jack Cade, the Duke of York hath taught you this. 
 
 Cade. [Aside] He lies, for I invented it myself. 
 
 Go to, sirrah, tell the king from me, that, for 
 his father's sake, Henry the Fifth, in whose time 
 boys went to span-counter for French crowns, 
 I am content he shall reign ; but I '11 be pro- 
 tector over him. 
 
 Dick. And furthermore, we '11 have the Lord Say's 160 
 head for selling the dukedom of Maine. 
 
 Cade. And good reason : for tliereby is England 
 mained, and fain to go with a stafif, but that my 
 puissance holds it up. Fellow kings, I tell you 
 that that Lord Say hath gelded the common- 
 wealth, and made it an eunuch : and more than 
 that, he can speak French ; and therefore he is 
 a traitor. 
 
 Staf. O, gross and miserable ignorance ! 
 
 Cade. Nay, answer, if you can: the Frenchmen are 170 
 our enemies ; go to, then, I ask but this : can 
 
 97
 
 Act IV. Sc. iii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 he that speaks with the tongue of an enemy be 
 a good counsellor, or no ? 
 
 All. Xo, no : and therefore we '11 have his head. 
 
 Bro. W'ell, seeing gentle words will not prevail, 
 Assail them with the army of the king. 
 
 Staf. Herald, away ; and throughout every town 
 Proclaim them traitors that are up with Cade ; 
 That those which fly before the battle ends 
 May, even in their wives' and children's sight, i8o 
 Be hang'd up for example at their doors : 
 And you that be the king's friends, follow me. 
 
 [Exeunt the two Staff ords, and soldiers. 
 
 Cade. And you that love the commons, follow me. 
 Now show yourselves men ; 'tis for liberty. 
 We will not leave one lord, one gentleman : 
 Spare none but such as go in clouted shoon ; 
 For they are thrifty honest men, and such 
 As wDuld, but that they dare not, take our parts. 
 
 Dick. They are all in order and march toward us. 
 
 Cade. But then are we in order when we are most out 190 
 of order. Come, march forward. [Exeunt 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Another part of Blackhcath. 
 
 Alarums to the -fight, zvherein both the Staff ords ar^ sfaif 
 Enter Cade and the rest. 
 
 Cade. Where 's Dick, the butcher of Ashf ord ? 
 
 DicI?. Here, sir. 
 
 Cade. They fell before thee like sheep and oxen, and 
 thou behavedst thyself as if thou hadst been in 
 thine own slaughter-house : therefore thus will 
 
 98
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. iv. 
 
 1 reward thee, the Lent shall be as long again as 
 it is ; and thou shalt have a licence to kill for a 
 hundred lacking one. 
 
 Dick. I desire no more. 
 
 Cade. And, to speak truth, thou deservest no less. lo 
 This monument of the victory will I bear [put- 
 ting on Sir Humphrey's brigandinc] ; and the 
 bodies shall be dragged at my horse heels till 
 I do come to London, where we will have the 
 mayor's sword borne before us. 
 
 Dick. If we mean to thrive and do good, break' open 
 the gaols and let out the prisoners. 
 
 Cade. Fear not that, I warrant thee. Come, let 's 
 
 march towards London. [E.veunt. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 London. The palace. 
 
 Enter the King 7^'ifJi a supplication, and the Queen with 
 Suffolk's head, the Duke of Buckingham and the 
 Lord Say. 
 
 Queen. Oft have I heard that grief softens the mind. 
 And makes it fearful and degenerate ; 
 Think therefore on revenge and cease to weep. 
 But who can cease to weep and look on this ? 
 Here may his head lie on my throbbing breast : 
 But where 's the body that I should embrace ? 
 
 Buck. \Miat answer makes your grace to the rebels' 
 supplication ? 
 
 King. I'll send some holy bishop to entreat ; 
 
 For God forbid so many simple souls lo 
 
 Should perish by the sword ! And I myself. 
 Rather than bloody war shall cut them short, 
 
 99
 
 Act IV. Sc. iv. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Will parley with Jack Cade their general : 
 But stay, I '11 read it over once again. 
 
 Queen. Ah, barbarous villains ! hath this lovely face 
 Ruled, like a wandering planet, over me. 
 And could it not enforce them to relent, 
 That were unworthy to behold the same ? 
 
 King. Lord Say, Jack Cade hath sworn to have thy 
 head. 
 
 Say. Ay, but I hope your highness shall have his. 20 
 
 King. How now, madam ! 
 
 Still lamenting and mourning for Suffolk's death ? 
 
 I fear me, love, if that I had been dead. 
 
 Thou wouldest not have mourn 'd so much for me. 
 
 Queen. No, my love, I should not mourn, but die for 
 thee. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 King. How now ! what news ? why comest thou in such 
 haste ? 
 
 Mess. The rebels are in Southwark : fly, my lord ! 
 Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer, 
 Descended from the Duke of Clarence' house, 
 And calls your ^'rnce usurper openly, 30 
 
 And vows to crown himself in Westminster. 
 His army is a ragged multitude 
 Of hinds and ])easants, rude and merciless : 
 Sir Humphrey Stafford and his brother's deatli 
 Hath given them heart and courage to proceed : 
 All scholars, lawyers, courtiers, gentlemen, 
 They call false caterpillars and intend their death. 
 
 King. O graceless men ! they know not what they do. 
 
 Buck. My gracious lord, retire to Killingworth, 
 
 Until a power be raised to put them down. 40 
 
 100
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. v. 
 
 Queen. Ah, were the Duke of Suffolk now aHve, 
 
 These Kentish rebels would be soon appeased ! 
 King. Lord Say, the traitors hate thee ; 
 
 Therefore away with us to Killingworth. 
 Say. So might your grace's person be in danger. 
 
 The sight of me is odious in their eyes ; 
 
 And therefore in this city will I stay, 
 
 And live alone as secret as I may. 
 
 Enter anotlicr Messenger. 
 
 Mess. Jack Cade hath gotten London bridge : 
 
 The citizens fly and forsake their houses : 50 
 
 The rascal people, thirsting after prey, 
 Join with the traitor, and they jointly swear 
 To spoil the city and your royal court. 
 
 Buek. Then linger not, my lord ; away, take horse. 
 
 Ki}ig. Come, Margaret ; God, our hope, will succour us. 
 
 Queen. My hope is gone, now Suffolk is deceased. 
 
 King. Farewell, my lord : trust not the Kentish rebels. 
 
 Buck. Trust nobody, for fear you be betray'd. 
 
 Say. The trust I have is in mine innocence. 
 
 And therefore am I bold and resolute. [E-^'eunt. 60 
 
 Scene V. 
 
 London. The Tower. 
 
 Enter Lord, Scales upon the Tozver, ivalking. Then enter 
 tzi'o or three Citizens beloiv. 
 
 Scales. How now ! is Jack Cade slain ? 
 
 First Cit. No, my lord, nor likely to be slain ; for 
 they have won the bridge, killing all those that 
 withstand them : the lord mayor craves aid of 
 
 lOI
 
 Act IV. Sc. vi. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 your honour from the Tower to defend the city 
 from the rebels. 
 Scales. Such aid as I can spare you shall command ; 
 But I am troubled here with them myself ; 
 The rebels have assay' d to win the Tower. 
 But get you to Smithfield and gather head. lo 
 
 And thither I will send you Matthew Gofife : 
 Fight for your king, your country, and your lives ; 
 And so, farewell, for I must hence again. [Exeioif. 
 
 Scene VI. 
 
 London. Caujioii Street. 
 
 Enter Jack Cade and the rest, and strikes Jiis staif 
 on London-stone. 
 
 Cade. Now is Mortimer lord of this city. And here, 
 sitting upon London-stone, I charge and com- 
 mand that, of the city's cost, the pissing-conduit 
 run nothing but claret wane this first year of our 
 reign. And now henceforward it shall be treason 
 for any that calls me other than Lord Mortimer. 
 
 Enter a Soldier, running. 
 
 Sold. Jack Cade ! Jack Cade ! 
 
 Cade. Knock him down there. [They kill him. 
 
 Smith. If this fellow be wise, he '11 never call ve 
 
 Jack Cade more : I think he hath a very fair lo 
 
 w^arning. 
 Diek. My lord, there 's an army gathered together in 
 
 Smithfield. 
 Cade. Come, then, let's go fight with them: but 
 
 first, go and set London bridge on fire ; and, if
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. vii. 
 
 you can, burn 
 
 down the Tower too. 
 
 Come, 
 
 let 's away. 
 
 Scene VII. 
 
 [Exeunt. 
 
 London. Smithficld. 
 
 Alarums. Matthew Goife is slain, and all the rest. 
 Then enter Jack Cade, with his company. 
 
 Cade. So, sirs : now go some and pull down the 
 Savoy ; others to the inns of court ; down 
 with them all. 
 
 Dick. I have a suit unto your lordship. 
 
 Cade. Be it a lordship, thou shalt have it for that word. 
 
 Dick. Only that the laws of England may come out 
 of your mouth. 
 
 Holl. [Aside] Mass, 'twill be sore law, then ; for he 
 was thrust in the mouth with a spear, and 'tis 
 not whole yet. lo 
 
 Smith. [Aside] Nay, John, it will be stinking law ; 
 for his breath stinks with eating toasted cheese. 
 
 Cade. I have thought upon it, it shall be so. Away, 
 luirn all the records of the realm : my mouth 
 shall be the parliament of England. 
 
 IIoll. [Aside] Then we are like to have biting stat- 
 utes unless his teeth be pulled out. 
 
 Cade. And henceforward all things shall be in 
 common. 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Mess. My lord, a prize, a prize ! here 's the Lord 
 
 Say, which sold the towns in France ; he that 20 
 made us pay one and twenty fifteens, and one 
 shilling to the pound, the last subsidy. 
 
 103
 
 Act IV. Sc. vii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Enter George Bevis, ivitli the Lord Say. 
 Cade. Well, he shall be beheaded for it ten times. 
 Ah, thou say, thou serge, nay, thou buckram 
 lord! now art thou within point-blank of our 
 jurisdiction regal. What canst thou answer 
 to my majesty for giving up of Xormandy unto 
 Mounsieur Basimecu, the dauphin of France? 
 Be it known unto thee by these presence, even 
 the presence of Lord Mortimer, that I am the 30 
 besom that must sweep the court clean of such 
 filth as thou art. Thou hast most traitorously 
 corrupted the youth of the realm in erecting a 
 grammar school : and whereas, before, our fore- 
 fathers had no other books but the score and the 
 tally, thou hast caused printing to be used, and, 
 contrary to the king, his crown and dignity, thou 
 hast built a paper-mill. It will be proved to thy 
 face that thou hast men about thee that usually 
 talk of a noun and a verb, and such abominable 40 
 words as no Christian, ear can endure to hear. 
 Thou hast appointed justices of peace, to call 
 poor men before them about matters they were 
 not able to answer. Moreover, thou hast put 
 them in prison ; and because they could not read, 
 thou hast hanged them : when, indeed, only for 
 ■ that cause they have been most worthy to live. 
 Thou dost ride in a foot-cloth, dost thou 
 not ? 
 Say, What of that ? 50 
 
 Cade, Marry, thou oughtest not to let thy horse wear 
 a cloak, when honester men than thou go in their 
 hose and doublets. 
 
 104
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. vii. 
 
 Dick. And work in their shirt too; as myself, for 
 example, that am a butcher. 
 
 Say. You men of Kent, — 
 
 Dick. What say you of Kent? 
 
 Say. Nothing but this; 'tis ' bona terra, mala gens.' 
 
 Cade. Away with him, away with him! he speaks 
 
 Latin. 60 
 
 Say. Hear me but speak, and bear me where you will. 
 Kent, in the Commentaries Caesar writ, 
 Is term'd the civil'st place of all this isle: 
 Sweet is the country, because full of riches; 
 The people liberal, valiant, active, wealthy; 
 Which makes me hope you are not void of pity. 
 I sold not Maine, I lost not Normandy, 
 Yet, to recover them, would lose my life. 
 Justice with favour have I always done; 
 Prayers and tears have moved me, gifts could never. 
 When have I aught exacted at your hands, y\ 
 
 But to maintain the king, the realm, and you? 
 Large gifts have I bestow'd on learned clerks. 
 Because my book preferr'd me to the king. 
 And seeing ignorance is the curse of God, 
 Knowledge the wing wherewith we fly to heaven. 
 Unless you be possessed with devilish spirits. 
 You cannot but forbear to murder me: 
 This tongue hath parley'd unto foreign kings 
 For your behoof, — 80 
 
 Cade. Tut, when struck'st thou one blow in the field? 
 
 Say. Great men have reaching hands: oft have I struck 
 Those that I never saw and struck them dead. 
 
 Geo. O monstrous coward! what, to come behind 
 folks? 
 
 105
 
 Act IV. Sc. vii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Say. These cheeks are pale for watching for your good. 
 
 Cade. Give him a box o' the ear and that will make 
 'em red again. 
 
 Say. Long sitting to determine poor men's causes 
 
 Hath made me full of sickness and diseases. 90 
 
 Cade. Ye shall have a hempen caudle then and the 
 help of hatchet. 
 
 Diek. Why dost thou quiver, man ? 
 
 Say. The palsy, and not fear, provokes me. 
 
 Cade. Nay, he nods at us, as who should say, I '11 be 
 even with you: I '11 see if his head will stand 
 steadier on a pole, or no. Take him away, and 
 behead him. 
 
 Say. Tell me wherein have I offended most? 
 
 Have I affected wealth or honour? speak. 100 
 
 Are my chests fill'd up with extorted gold? 
 
 Is my apparel sumptuous to behold? 
 
 Whom have I injured, that ye seek my death? 
 
 These hands are free from guiltless 1)lood-shedding, 
 
 This ])reast from harbouring foul deceitful thoughts. 
 
 O, let me live! 
 
 Cade. [Aside] I feel remorse in myself with his 
 words ; but I '11 bridle it : he shall die, an it be 
 but for pleading so well for his life. Away 
 with him! he has a familiar under his tongue; tto 
 he speaks not o' God's name. Go, take him 
 away. I say, and strike off his head presentlv; 
 and then break into his son-in-law's house, Sir 
 James Cromer, and strike off liis head, and 
 bring them both upon two poles hither. 
 
 All. It shall be done. 
 
 Say. Ah, countrymen! if when you make your prayers, 
 
 106
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. viii. 
 
 God should be so obdurate as yourselves, 
 
 How would it fare with your departed souls ? 
 
 And therefore yet relent, and save my life. 120 
 
 Cade. Away with him ! and do as I command ye. 
 
 [Exeunt some zcith Lord Say. 
 The proudest peer in the realm shall not wear a 
 • head on his sb.oulders, unless he pay me tribute ; 
 there shall not a maid be married, but she shall 
 pay to me her maidenhead ere they have it : men 
 shall hold of me in capite ; and we charge and 
 command that their wives be as free as heart can 
 wish or tongue can tell. 
 
 Dick. My lord, when shall we go to Cheapside and 
 
 take up commodities upon our bills ? 130 
 
 Cade. Marry, presently. 
 
 All. O, brave! 
 
 Re-enter one zi'ith the heads. 
 
 Cade. But is not this braver? Let them kiss one 
 another, for they loved well when they were 
 alive. Xow part them again, lest they consult 
 about the giving up of some more towns in 
 France. Soldiers, defer the spoil of the city 
 until night : for with these borne before us, in- 
 stead of maces, will we ride through the streets; 139 
 and at every corner have them kiss. Away ! [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene VIII. 
 
 Southzvark. 
 
 Alarum and retreat. Enter Cade and all his rahblement. 
 
 Cade. Up Fish Street ! down Saint IMagnus' Corner ! 
 kill and knock down ! throw them into Thames ! 
 
 107
 
 Act IV. Sc. viii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 [Sound a parley.] What noise is this I hear? 
 Dare any be so bold to sound retreat or parley, 
 when I command them kill? 
 
 Enter Buckingham and Clifford, attended. 
 
 Buck. Ay, here they be that dare and will disturb thee: 
 Know, Cade, we come ambassadors from the king 
 Unto the commons whom thou hast misled ; 
 And here pronounce free pardon to them all, 
 That will forsake thee and go home in peace. lo 
 
 Clif. What say ye, countrymen ? will ye relent, 
 And yield to mercy whilst 'tis offer'd you ; 
 Or let a rebel lead you to your deaths ? 
 Who loves the king and will embrace his pardon. 
 Fling up his cap, and say ' God save his majesty ! ' 
 Who hateth him and honours not his father, 
 Henry the Fifth, that made all France to quake. 
 Shake he his weapon at us and pass by. 
 
 All. God save the king ! God save the king ! 
 
 Cade. What, Buckingham and Clifford, are ye so 20 
 brave? And you, base peasants, do ye believe 
 him? will you needs be hanged with your 
 pardons about your necks? Hath my sword 
 therefore broke through London gates, that you 
 should leave me at the White Hart in South- 
 wark ? I thought ye would never have given out 
 these arms till you had recovered your ancient 
 freedom : but you are all recreants and dastards, 
 and delight to live in slavery to the nobility. 
 Let them break your backs with burthens, take 30 
 your houses over your heads, ravish your wives 
 
 108
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. viii. 
 
 and daughters before your faces : for me, I will 
 make shift for one ; and so, God's curse light 
 upon you all ! 
 
 All, We '11 follow Cade, we '11 follow Cade ! 
 
 Clif. Is Cade the son of Henry the Fifth, 
 
 That thus you do exclaim you '11 go with him ? 
 
 Will he conduct you through the heart of France, 
 
 And make the meanest of you earls and dukes ? 
 
 Alas, he hath no home, no place to fly to ; 40 
 
 Nor knows he how to live but by the spoil, 
 
 Unless by robbing of your friends and us. 
 
 Were 't not a shame, that whilst you live at jar. 
 
 The fearful French, whom you late vanquished. 
 
 Should make a start o'er seas and vanquish you? 
 
 Methinks already in this civil broil 
 
 I see them lording it in London streets, 
 
 Crying ' Villiago ! ' unto all they meet. 
 
 Better ten thousand base-born Cades miscarry, 40 
 
 Than you should stoop unto a Frenchman's mercy. 
 
 To France, to France, and get what you have lost ; 
 
 Spare England, for it is your native coast : 
 
 Henry hath money, you are strong and manly ; 
 
 God on our side, doubt not of victory. 
 
 All. A Clifford! a CHfford! we'll follow the king 
 and Clifford. 
 
 Cade. Was ever feather so lightly blown to and fro 
 as this multitude? The name of Henry the 
 Fifth hales them to an hundred mischiefs and 
 makes them leave me desolate. I see them lay 60 
 their heads together to surprise me. My sword 
 make way for me, for here is no staying. In 
 despite of the devils and hell, have through the 
 109
 
 Act IV. Sc. ix. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 very middest of you ! and heavens and honour 
 be witness that no want of resolution in me, 
 but only my followers' base and ignominious 
 treasons, makes me betake me to my heels. [Exit. 
 
 Buck. What, is he fled? Go some, and follow him; 
 And he that brings his head unto the king 
 Shall have a thousand crowns for his reward. 70 
 
 [Exeunt some of them. 
 Follow me, soldiers : we '11 devise a mean 
 To reconcile you all unto the king. [Exeunt. 
 
 Scene IX. 
 
 Kenikvorth Castle. 
 
 Sound trumpets. Enter King, Queen, and Somerset, 
 on the terrace. 
 
 King. Was ever king that joy'd an earthly throne, 
 And could command no more content than I ? 
 No sooner was I crept out of my cradle 
 Rut I was made a king, at nine months old. 
 Was never subject long'd to be a king 
 As I do long and wish to be a subject. 
 
 Enter Buckingham and Clifford. 
 
 Buck. Health and glad tidings to your majesty! 
 King. Why, Buckingham, is the traitor Cade surprised? 
 Or is he but retired to make him strong? 
 
 Enter, belozi\ multitudes, zvith halters about their necks. 
 
 Clif. He is fled, my lord, and all his powers do yield ; 
 
 And humbly thus, with halters on their necks, 1 1 
 
 Expect your highness' doom, of life or death. 
 
 no
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. ix. 
 
 King. Then, heaven, set ope thy everlasting gates, 
 To entertain my vows of thanks and praise ! 
 Soldiers, this day have you redeem'd your lives. 
 And show'd how well you love your prince and 
 
 country : 
 Continue still in this so good a mind, 
 And Henry, though he be infortunate. 
 Assure yourselves, will never be unkind : 
 And so, with thanks and pardon to you all, 20 
 
 I do dismiss you to your several countries. 
 
 All. God save the king ! God save the king ! 
 
 Enter a Messenger. 
 
 Mess. Please it your grace to be advertised 
 
 The Duke of York is newly come from Ireland, 
 
 And with a puissant and a mighty power 
 
 Of gallowglasses and stout kernes 
 
 Is marching hitherward in proud array, 
 
 And still proclaimeth, as he comes along, 
 
 His arms are only to remove from thee 
 
 The Duke of Somerset, whom he terms a traitor. 30 
 
 King. Thus stands my state, 'twixt Cade and York dis- 
 tress'd ; * 
 Like to a ship that, having 'scaped a tempest, 
 Is straightway calm'd and boarded with a pirate : 
 But now is Cade driven back, his men dispersed ; 
 And now is York in arms to second him. 
 I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet him. 
 And ask him what 's the reason of these arms. 
 Tell him I '11 send Duke Edmund to the Tower ; 
 And, Somerset, we will commit thee thither, 
 Until his army be dismiss'd from him. 40 
 
 III
 
 Act IV. Sc. X. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Som. My lord, 
 
 I '11 yield myself to prison willingly, 
 
 Or unto death, to do my country good. 
 King. In any case, be not too rough in terms ; 
 
 For he is fierce and cannot brook hard language. 
 Buck. I will, my lord ; and doubt not so to deal 
 
 As all things shall redound unto your good. 
 King. Come, wife, let 's in, and learn to govern better ; 
 
 For yet may England curse my wretched reign. 
 
 [Flourish. Exeunt. 
 
 Scene X. 
 
 Kent. I den's garden. 
 
 Enter Cade. 
 
 Cade. Fie on ambition ! fie on myself, that have a 
 sword, and yet am ready to famish ! These five 
 days have I hid me in these woods and durst not 
 peep out, for all the country is laid for me ; but 
 now am I so hungry that if I might have a lease 
 of my life for a thousand years I could stay no 
 longer. Wherefore, on a brick wall have I 
 climbed into this garden, to see' if I can eat 
 ^ grass, or pick a sallet another while, which is 
 not amiss to cool a man's stomach this hot lo 
 weather. And I think this word ' sallet ' was 
 born to do me good : for many a time, but for 
 a sallet, my brain-pan had been cleft with a 
 brown feill ; and many a time, when I have been 
 dry and bravely marching, it hath served me 
 instead of a quart pot to drink in ; and now the 
 word ' sallet ' must serve me to feed on.
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act IV. Sc. x. 
 
 Enter Idcn. 
 
 Idcn. Lord, who would live turmoiled in the court, 
 And may enjoy such quiet walks as these? 
 This small inheritance my father left me 20 
 
 Contenteth me, and worth a monarchy. 
 I seek not to wax great by others' waning, 
 Or gather wealth, I care not with what envy: 
 Sufficeth that I have maintains my state, 
 And sends the poor well pleased from my gate. 
 
 Cade. Here 's the lord of the soil come to seize me 
 for a stray, for entering his fee-simple without 
 leave. Ah, villain, thou wilt betray me, and 
 get a thousand crowns of the king by carrying 
 my head to him : but I '11 make thee eat iron 30 
 like an ostrich, and swallow my sword like a 
 great pin, ere thou and I part. 
 
 Iden. Why, rude companion, whatsoe'er thou be, 
 
 I know thee not ; why then should I betray thee ? 
 Is 't not enough to break into my garden. 
 And, like a thief, to come to rob my grounds, 
 Climbing my walls in spite of me the owner. 
 But thou wilt brave me with these saucy terms? 
 
 Cade. Brave thee! ay, by the best blood that ever 
 
 was broached, and beard thee too. Look on 40 
 me well: I have eat no meat these five days; 
 yet, come thou and thy five men, and if I do 
 not leave you all as dead as- a door-nail, I pray 
 God I may never eat grass more. 
 
 Ideri. Nay, it shall ne'er be said, while England stands, 
 That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent, 
 Took odds to combat a poor famish'd man. 
 
 113
 
 Act IV. Sc. X. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Oppose thy steadfast-gazing eyes to mine, 
 
 See if thou canst outface me with thy looks : 
 
 Set hmb to hmb, and thou art far the lesser; 50 
 
 Thy hand is but a finger to my fist, 
 
 Thy leg a stick compared with this truncheon; 
 
 My foot shall fight with all the strength thou hast; 
 
 And if mine arm be heaved in the air, 
 
 Thy grave is digg'd already in the earth. 
 
 As for words, whose greatness answers words, 
 
 Let this my sword report what speech forbears. 
 
 Cade. By my valour, the most complete champion 
 that ever I heard! Steel, if thou turn the edge, 
 or cut not out the burly-boned clown in chines 60 
 of beef ere thou sleep in thy sheath, I beseech 
 God on my knees thou mayst be turned to hob- 
 nails. [Here they iight. Cade falls. 
 O, I am slain! famine and no other hath slain 
 me: let ten thousand devils come against me, 
 and give me but the ten meals I have lost, and 
 I 'Id defy them all. Wither, garden ; and be 
 henceforth a burying-place to all that do dwell 
 in this house, because the unconquered soul of 
 Cade is fied. 70 
 
 I den. Is 't Cade that I have slain, that monstrous traitor? 
 Sword, I will hallow thee for this thy deed, 
 And hang thee o'er my tomb when I am dead: 
 Ne'er shall this blood be wiped from thy point; 
 But thou shalt wear it as a herald's coat. 
 To emblaze the honour that thy master got 
 
 Ciide. Iden, farewell, and be proud of thy victory. 
 Tell Kent from me, she hath lost her best man, 
 and exhort all the world to be cowards; for I, 
 
 114
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 that never feared any, am vanquished by famine, 8o 
 
 not by valour. [Dies. 
 
 I den. How much thou wrongest me, heaven be my judge. 
 
 Die, damned wretch, the curse of her that bare 
 
 thee ; 
 And as I thrust thy body in with my sword, 
 So wish I, I might thrust thy soul to hell. 
 Hence will I drag thee headlong by the heels 
 Unto a dunghill which shall be thy grave, 
 And there cut off thy most ungracious head ; 
 Which I will bear in triumph to the king, 
 Leaving thy trunk for crows to feed upon. 90 
 
 [Exit. 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 Fields between Dartford and Blackheath. 
 
 Enter York, and his army of Irish, zvith drum 
 and colours. 
 
 York. From Ireland thus comes York to claim his right, 
 And pluck the crown from feeble Henry's head : 
 Ring, bells, aloud ; burn, bonfires, clear and bright. 
 To entertain great England's lawful king. 
 Ah! sancta majestas, who would not buy thee dear? 
 Let them obey that know not how to rule ; 
 This hand was made to handle nought but gold. 
 I cannot give due action to my words, 
 Except a sword or sceptre balance it : 
 A sceptre shall it have, have T a soul, 10 
 
 On which T '11 toss the flower-de-luce of France. 
 
 115
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Enter Buckino-hani. 
 
 '^>' 
 
 Whom have we here ? Buckingham, to disturb me ? 
 The king hath sent him, sure : I must dissemble. 
 
 Buck. York, if thou meanest well, I greet thee well. 
 
 York. Humphrey of Buckingham, I accept thy greeting. 
 Art thou a messenger, or come of pleasure ? 
 
 Buck. A messenger from Henry, our dread liege. 
 To know the reason of these arms in peace ; 
 Or why thou, being a subject as I am. 
 Against thy oath and true allegiance sworn, 20 
 
 Should raise so great a power without his leave, 
 Or dare to bring thy force so near the court. 
 
 York. [Aside] Scarce can I speak, my choler is so great : 
 O, I could hew up rocks and fight with flint, 
 I am so angry at these abject terms ; 
 And now, like Ajax Telamonius, 
 On sheep or oxen could I spend my fury. 
 I am far better born than is the king, 
 More like a king, more kingly in my thoughts : 
 But I must make fair weather yet a while. 30 
 
 Till Henry be more weak and I more strong. — ► 
 Buckingham, I prithee, pardon me. 
 That I have given no answer all this while ; 
 My mind was troubled with deep melancholy. 
 The cause why I have brought this army hither 
 Is to remove proud Somerset from the king, 
 Seditious to his grace and to the state. 
 
 Buck. That is too much presumption on thy part : 
 But if thy arms be to no other end, 
 The king hath yielded unto thy demand : 40 
 
 The Duke of Somerset is in the Tower. 
 116
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 York. Upon thine honour, is he prisoner? 
 
 Buck. Upon mine honour, he is prisoner. 
 
 York. Then, Buckingham, I do dismiss my powers. 
 Soldiers, I thank you all ; disperse yourselves ; 
 Meet me to-morrow in Saint George's field, 
 You shall have pay and every thing you wish. 
 And let my sovereign, virtuous Henry, 
 Command my eldest son, nay, all my sons, 
 As pledges of my fealty and love ; 50 
 
 I '11 send them all as willing as I live : 
 Lands, goods, horse, armour, any thing I have, 
 Is his to use, so Somerset may die. 
 
 Buck. York, I commend this kind submission : 
 We twain will go into his highness' tent. 
 
 Enter King and Attendants. 
 
 King. Buckingham, doth York intend no harm to us. 
 
 That thus he marcheth with thee arm in arm ? 
 York. In all submission and humility 
 
 York doth present himself unto your highness. 
 King. Then what intends these forces thou dost bring? 
 York. To heave the traitor Somerset from hence, 61 
 
 And fight against that monstrous rebel Cade, 
 
 Who since I heard to be discomfited. 
 
 Enter I den, zi'ith Cade's head. 
 
 I den. If one so rude and of so mean condition 
 May pass into the presence of a king, 
 Lo, I present your grace a traitor's head. 
 The head of Cade, whom I in combat slew. 
 
 King. The head of Cade ! Great God, how just art Thou ! 
 O, let me view his visage, being dead, 
 
 117
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 That living wrought me such exceeding trouble. 70 
 
 Tell me, my friend, art thou the man that slew him ? 
 I den. I was, an 't like your majesty. 
 King. How art thou call'd ? and what is thy degree ? 
 Iden. Alexander Iden, that 's my name; 
 
 A poor esquire of Kent, that loves his king. 
 Buck. So please it you, my lord, 'twere not amiss 
 
 He were created knight for his good service. 
 King. Iden, kneel down. [He kneels.] Rise up a knight. 
 
 We give thee for reward a thousand marks, 
 
 And will that thou henceforth attend on us. 80 
 
 Iden. May Iden live to merit such a bounty, 
 
 And never live but true unto his liege ! [Rises. 
 
 Enter Queen and Somerset. 
 
 King. See, Buckingham, Somerset comes with the queen : 
 Go, bid her hide him quickly from the duke. 
 
 Queen. For thousand Yorks he shall not hide his head, 
 But boldly stand and front him to his face. 
 
 York. How now! is Somerset at libertv? 
 
 Then, York, unloose thy long-imprison'd thoughts. 
 
 And let thy tongue be equal with thy heart. 
 
 Shall I endure the sight of Somerset ? 90 
 
 False king ! why hast thou broken faith with me, 
 
 Knowing how hardly I can brook abuse ? 
 
 King did I call thee ? no, thou art not king. 
 
 Not fit to govern and rule multitudes. 
 
 Which darest not, no, nor canst not rule a traitor. 
 
 That head of thine doth not become a crown : 
 
 Thy hand is made to grasp a palmer's staff. 
 
 And not to grace an awful princely sceptre. 
 
 That gold must round engirt these brows of mine, 
 
 118
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 Whose smile and frown, like to Achilles' spear, lOO 
 
 Is able with the chang-e to kill and cure. 
 
 Here is a hand to hold a sceptre up, 
 
 And with the same to act controlling laws. 
 
 Give place : by heaven, thou shalt rule no more 
 
 O'er him w^hom heaven created for thy ruler. 
 
 Som. O monstrous traitor ! I arrest thee, York, 
 Of capital treason 'gainst the king and crown : 
 Obey, audacious traitor ; kneel for grace. 
 
 York. Wouldst have me kneel ? first let me ask of these, 
 If they can brook I bow a knee to man. i lo 
 
 Sirrah, call in my sons to be my bail : 
 
 [Exit Attendant. 
 I know, ere they will have me go to ward. 
 They '11 pawn their swords for my enfranchisement. 
 
 Queen. Call hither Clifford ; bid him come amain, 
 To say if that the bastard boys of York 
 Shall be the surety for their traitor father. 
 
 [Exit Buckingham. 
 
 York. O blood-bespotted Neapolitan, 
 
 Outcast of Naples, England's bloody scourge ! 
 The sons of York, thy betters in their birth. 
 Shall be their father's bail ; and bane to those 120 
 That for my surety will refuse the boys ! 
 
 Enter Edzvard and Richard. 
 
 See where they come : I '11 warrant they '11 make it 
 good. 
 
 Enter Cliiford and his son. 
 
 Queen. And here comes Clifford to deny their bail. 
 Clif. Health and all happiness to my lord the king ! 
 
 [Kneels, 
 119
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 York. I thank thee, CHfford : say, what news with thee ? 
 Nay, da not fright us with an angry look : 
 We are thy sovereign, CHfford, kneel again ; 
 For thy mistaking so, we pardon thee. 
 
 Clif. This is my king, York, I do not mistake ; 
 
 But thou mistakest me much to think* I do: 130 
 
 To Bedlam with him ! is the man grown mad ? 
 
 King. Ay, Clifford ; a bedlam and ambitious humour 
 Makes him oppose himself against his king. 
 
 Clif. He is a traitor ; let him to the Tower, 
 And chop away that factious pate of his. 
 
 Queen. He is arrested, but will not obey; 
 
 His sons, he says, shall give their w^ords for him. 
 
 York. Will you not, sons? 
 
 Edzi'. Ay, noble father, if our words will serve. 
 
 Rich. And if words will not, then our weapons shall. 
 
 Clif. Why, what a brood of traitors have we here! 141 
 
 York. Look in a glass, and call thy image so : 
 
 I am thy king, and thou a false-heart traitor. 
 Call hither to the stake my two brave bears, 
 That with the very shaking of their chains 
 They may astonish these fell-lurking curs : 
 Bid Salisbury and Warwick come to me. 
 
 Enter the Earls of Warzvick and Salisbury. 
 
 Clif. Are these thy bears ? we '11 bait thy bears to death. 
 And manacle the bear-ward in their chains, 
 If thou darest bring them to the baiting-place. 150 
 
 Rich. Oft have I seen a hot o'er weening cur 
 
 Run back and bite, because he was withheld ; 
 Who, being suffer'd with the bear's fell paw. 
 Hath clapp'd his tail between his legs and cried :
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. i. 
 
 And such a piece of service will you do, 
 
 If you oppose yourselves to match Lord Warwick. 
 
 Clif. Hence, heap of wrath, foul indigested lump, 
 As crooked in thy manners as thy shape ! 
 
 York. Nay, we shall heat you thoroughly anon. 
 
 Clif. Take heed, lest by your heat you burn yourselves. 
 
 Ki)}g. AMiy, Warwick, hath thy knee forgot to bow? i6i 
 Old Salisbury, shame to thy silver hair. 
 Thou mad misleader of thy brain-sick son ! 
 What, wilt thou on thy death-bed play the ruffian, 
 And seek for sorrow with thy spectacles ? 
 O, where is faith ? O, where is loyalty ? 
 If it be banish'd from the frosty head, 
 Where shall it find a harbour in the earth ? 
 Wilt thou go dig a grave to find out war. 
 And shame thine honourable age with blood? 170 
 Why art thou old, and want'st experience ? 
 Or wherefore dost abuse it, if thou hast it ? 
 For shame ! in duty bend thy knee to me, 
 That bows unto the grave with mickle age. 
 
 Sal. My lord, I have consider'd with myself 
 The title of this most renowned duke ; 
 And in my conscience do repute his grace 
 The rightful heir to England's royal seat. 
 
 King. Hast thou not sworn allegiance unto me ? 
 
 Sal. I have. 180 
 
 King. Canst thou dispense with heaven for such an oath ? 
 
 Sal. It is great sin to swear unto a sin, 
 But greater sin to keep a sinful oath. 
 Who can be bound by any solemn vow 
 To do a murderous deed, to rob a man, 
 To force a spotless virgin's chastity, 
 
 121
 
 Act V. Sc. i. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 To reave the orphan of his patrimony, 
 
 To wring the widow from her custom'd right, 
 
 And have no other reason for this wrong 
 
 But that he was bound by a solemn oath ? 190 
 
 Queen. A subtle traitor needs no sophister. 
 
 King. Call Buckingham, and bid him arm himself. 
 
 York. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, 
 I am resolved for death or dignity. 
 
 Clif. The first I warrant thee, if dreams prove true. 
 
 War. You were best to go to bed and dream again, 
 To keep thee from the tempest of the field. 
 
 Clif. I am resolved to bear a greater storm 
 Than any thou canst conjure up to-day ; 
 And that I '11 write upon thy burgonet, 200 
 
 Might I but know thee by thy household badge. 
 
 War. Now, by my father's badge, old Nevil's crest. 
 The rampant bear chain'd to the ragged staff, 
 This day I '11 wear aloft my burgonet. 
 As on a mountain top the cedar shows 
 That keeps his leaves in spite of any storm. 
 Even to affright thee with the view thereof. 
 
 Clif. And from thy burgonet I '11 rend thy bear, 
 And tread it under foot with all contempt, 
 Despite the bear-ward that protects the bear. 210 
 
 Y. Clif. And so to arms, victorious father. 
 To quell the rebels and their complices. 
 
 Rich. Fie ! charity, for shame ! speak not in spite, 
 For you shall sup with Jesu Christ to-night. 
 
 Y. Clif. Foul stigmatic, that 's more than thou canst tell. 
 
 Rich. If not in heaven, you '11 surely sup in hell. 
 
 [Exeunt severally. 
 
 122
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 Saint Albans. 
 
 Alarums to the battle. Enter Warwick. 
 
 War. Clifford of Cumberland, 'tis Warwick calls: 
 And if thou dost not hide thee from the bear, 
 Now, when the angry trumpet sounds alarum, 
 And dead men's cries do fill the empty air, 
 Clift'ord, I say, come forth and fight with me : 
 Proud northern lord, Clifford of Cumberland, 
 Warwick is hoarse with calling thee to arms. 
 
 Enter York. 
 
 How now, my noble lord ! what, all a-foot ? 
 York. The deadly-handed Clifford slew my steed, 
 
 But match to match I have encounter'd him, lo 
 
 And made a prey for carrion kites and crows 
 Even of the bonny beast he loved so well. 
 
 Enter Clifford. 
 
 War. Of one or both of us the time is come. 
 
 York. Hold, W^arwick, seek thee out some other chase. 
 
 For I myself must hunt this deer to death. 
 War. Then, nobly, York ; 'tis for a crown thou fight'st. 
 
 As I intend, Clifford, to thrive to-day, 
 
 It grieves my soul to leave thee unassail'd. [E.rit. 
 
 Clif. What seest thou in me, York ? why dost thou pause ? 
 York. With thy brave bearing should I be in love, 20 
 
 But that thou art so fast mine enemy. 
 Clif. Nor should thy prowess want praise and esteem 
 
 But that 'tis shown ignobly and in treason. 
 York. So let it help me now against thy sword, 
 
 123
 
 Act V. Sc. ii. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 As I in justice and true right express it. 
 Clif. My soul and body on the action both ! 
 York. A dreadful lay! Address thee instantly. 
 
 [They fight, and Clifford falls. 
 
 Clif. La fin couronne.lcs oeuvres. [Dies. 
 
 York. Thus war hath given thee peace, for thou art still. 
 
 Peace with his soul, heaven, if it be thy will ! 30 
 
 [Exit. 
 Enter Young Clifford. 
 
 Y. Clif. Shame and confusion ! all is on the rout ; 
 Fear frames disorder, and disorder wounds 
 Where it should guard. O war, thou son of hell, 
 Whom angry heavens do make their minister. 
 Throw in the frozen bosoms of our part 
 Hot coals of vengeance ! Let no soldier fly. 
 He that is truly dedicate to war 
 Hath no self-love, nor he that loves himself 
 Hath not essentially but by circumstance 
 The name of valour. [Seeing his dead father] O, let 
 the vile world end, 40 
 
 And the premised flames of the last day 
 Knit earth and heaven together! 
 Now let the general trumpet blow his blast, 
 Particularities and petty sounds 
 To cease ! Wast thou ordain'd, dear father, 
 To lose thy youth in peace, and to achieve 
 The silver livery of advised age, 
 And, in thy reverence and thy chair-days, thus 
 To die in ruflian battle ? Even at this sight 
 My heart is turn'd to stone : and while 'tis mine, 50 
 It shall be stony. York not our old men spares ; 
 No more will I their babes : tears virginal 
 124
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. ii. 
 
 Shall be to me even as the dew to fire, 
 
 And beauty that the tyrant oft reclaims 
 
 Shall to my flaming wrath be oil and flax. 
 
 Henceforth I will not have to do with pity : 
 
 Meet I an infant of the house of York, 
 
 Into as many gobbets will I cut it 
 
 As wild Medea young Absyrtus did : 
 
 In cruelty will I seek out my fame. 60 
 
 Come, thou new ruin of old Clifford's house : 
 
 As did ^neas old Anchises bear, 
 
 So bear I thee upon my manly shoulders ; 
 
 But then ^neas bare a living load, 
 
 Nothing so heavy as these woes of mine. 
 
 [Exit, bearing off his father. 
 
 Enter Richard and Somerset to tight. Somerset is killed. 
 
 Rich. So, lie thou there ; 
 
 For underneath an alehouse' paltry sign, 
 The Castle in Saint Alban's, Somerset 
 Hath made the wizard famous in his death. 
 Sword, hold thy temper ; heart, be wrathful still : 
 Priests pray for enemies, but princes kill. \Exit. 71 
 
 Fight. Excursions. Enter King, Queen, and others. 
 
 Queen. Away, my lord ! you are slow ; for shame, away ! 
 King. Can we outrun the heavens? good Margaret, stay. 
 Queen. What are you made of? you '11 nor fight nor fly : 
 Xow is it manhood, wisdom and defence. 
 To give the enemy way, and to secure us 
 By what we can, which can no more but fly. 
 
 [Alarum afar off. 
 If yOu be ta'en, we then should see the bottom 
 125
 
 Act V. Sc. Hi. THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Of all our fortunes : but if we haply scape, 
 As well we may, if not through your neglect, 80 
 
 We shall to London get, where you are loved. 
 And where this breach now in our fortunes made 
 May readily be stopp'd. 
 
 Re-enter Young Clifford. 
 
 y. Clif. But that my heart 's on future mischief set, 
 I would speak blasphemy ere bid you fly : 
 But fly you must ; uncurable discomfit 
 Reigns in the hearts of all our present parts. 
 Away, for your relief ! and we will live 
 To see their day and them our fortune give : 
 Away, my lord, away ! [Exeunt. 9c 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 Fields near Saint Alhans. 
 
 Alarum. Retreat. Enter York, Richard, Warnnck, 
 and Soldiers, zvith drum and colours. 
 
 York. Of Salisbury, who can report of him. 
 That winter lion, who in rage forgets 
 Aged contusions and all brush of time. 
 And, like a gallant in the brow of youth, 
 Repairs him with occasion ? This happy day 
 Ts not itself, nor have we won one foot, 
 If Salisbury be lost. 
 
 Rich. My noble father, 
 
 Three times to-day I holp him to his horse. 
 Three times bestrid him : thrice I led him off, 
 Persuaded him from any further act : 10 
 
 But still, where danger was, still there I met him : 
 
 126
 
 KING HENRY VI. Act V. Sc. iii. 
 
 And like rich hangings in a homely house. 
 So was his will in his old feeble body. 
 But, noble as he is, look where he comes. 
 
 Enter Salisbury. 
 
 SaL Now, by my sword, well hast thou fought to-day ; 
 By the mass, so did we all. I thank you, Richard : 
 God knows how long it is I have to live ; 
 And it hath pleased him that three times to-day 
 You have defended me from imminent death. 
 Well, lords, we have not got that which we have : 
 'Tis not enough our foes are this time fled, 21 
 
 Being opposites of such repairing nature. 
 
 York. I know our safety is to follow them ; 
 For, as I hear, the king is fled to London, 
 To call a present court of parliament. 
 Let us pursue him ere the writs go forth. 
 What says Lord Warwick ? shall we after them ? 
 
 War. After them ! nay, before them, if we can. 
 Now, by my faith, lords, 'twas a glorious day : 
 Saint x^lban's battle won by famous York 30 
 
 Shall be eternized in all age to come. 
 Sound drums and trumpets, and to London all : 
 And more such days as these to us befall ! [Exeunt. 
 
 i^y
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Glossary. 
 
 A ', he ; I. iii. 6. 
 
 .Ibortive, monstrous, unnatu- 
 ral ; IV. i. 60. 
 
 Abrook, hrook, endure; II. iv. 10. 
 
 Absyrtus, Medea's brother, 
 killed and dismembered by 
 her (Theobald's correction 
 of Folios, '' Absirtis " ; Rowe, 
 " Absirtus") ; V. ii. 59. 
 
 Accompt, accounts; IV. ii. 87. 
 
 Accuse, accusation; III. i. 160. 
 
 AcJiillcs' spear, alluding to the 
 story that Telephus was 
 cured by the rust scraped 
 from Achilles' spear by which 
 he had been wounded ; V. i. 
 100. 
 
 Act, put in action (Capell, 
 "enact"', Vaughan, "co- 
 act"); V.i. 103. 
 
 Adder, a venomous snake, sup- 
 posed to stop its ears and 
 render itself deaf (cp. Psalm 
 Iviii. 4, 5) ; III. ii. 76. 
 
 Address thee, prepare thyself; 
 V. ii. 27 
 
 Adsum, 1 am here (Folio i, 
 "Ad sum ") ; I. iv. 25. 
 
 Advance, raise up ; IV. i. 98. 
 
 Adventure, run the risk; III. 
 ii. 350. 
 
 Advertised, informed ; IV. ix. 
 23- 
 
 Advice, deliberate considera- 
 tion; II. ii. 68. 
 
 Advised, careful, II. iv. 36; se- 
 date. V. ii. 47. 
 
 ; " are ye a.,"' did you 
 
 hear? do you understand? 
 (Capell, " avis' d")\ II. i. 48. 
 
 ^olus, the god of the winds; 
 III. ii. 92. 
 
 Affected, aimed at; IV. vii. 
 100. 
 
 Affiance, confidence; III. i. 74. 
 
 Affy, affiance; IV. i. 80. 
 
 Aidance, assistance; III. ii. 165. 
 
 Ajax Telamoniiis, Ajax the son 
 of Telamon, the Greek hero, 
 who slew a whole flock of 
 sheep, which in his frenzy he 
 took for the sons of Atreus ; 
 V. i. 26. 
 
 Alder-liefest, dearest. very 
 dearest of all ; I. i. 28. 
 
 Althcea, the mother of Mele- 
 ager, the prince of Calydon. 
 whose life was to last only as 
 long as a certain firebrand 
 was preserved; Althaea 
 threw it into the fire, and he 
 died in great torture; I. i. 234. 
 
 Amain, in great haste, swiftly; 
 
 III. i. 282. 
 
 Anchises, the father of .Eneas; 
 
 V. ii. 62. 
 An't like, if it please; V. i. 72. 
 Approved, proved; III. ii. 22. 
 Argo, a corruption of ergo; 
 
 IV. ii. 30. 
 
 128
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Argues, proves, shows ; III. 
 
 iii. 30. 
 Argument, a sign in proof; I. 
 
 ii. 32; III. i. 241. 
 Arms, coat of arms; IV. i. 42. 
 As, that (Pope, "That"); II. 
 
 iv. 45. 
 Ascanius, the son of ^neas ; 
 
 III. ii. 116. 
 Asmath, the name of an evil 
 
 spirit ; I. iv. 26. 
 Assay' d, attempted ; IV. v. 9. 
 At once, in a word ; III. i. 66. 
 Attainted, convicted of capital 
 
 treason ; II. iv, 59. 
 Avoid, avannt, be gone; I, iv. 42. 
 Azvful, awe-inspiring; V. i. 98. 
 Azvkward, adverse {Vo^q," ad- 
 verse") ; III. ii. 83. 
 
 Bait thy hears; bear-baiting 
 was a popular amusement of 
 Shakespeare's day (Folio i, 
 " hate " ; Folio 2, " haitc ") ; 
 V. i., 148. 
 
 Banditto, outlaw (Folios, 
 " Bandetto") ; IV. i. 135. 
 
 Ban-dogs, fierce dogs held in 
 bands, or chained ; I. iv. 20. 
 
 Bane, destruction, ruin (Theo- 
 bald. " hale ") ; V. i. 120. 
 
 ' Barguhis the strong Illyrian 
 pirate ' ; The Contention 
 reads " Ahradas, the great 
 Macedonian pirate," to whom 
 reference is made in Greene's 
 Penelope's IVeh ; Bargulus is 
 mentioned in Cicero's Dc 
 OMciis ; his proper name was 
 Bardylis ; he was originally 
 a collier, and ultimately be- 
 came king of Illyria ; he was 
 
 defeated and slain in battle 
 by Philip of Macedon ; IV. 
 i. 108. 
 
 Basilisk, a fabulous serpent 
 supposed to kill by its look ; 
 III. ii.52. 
 
 Basimecu, a term of contempt 
 for a Frenchman ; IV. vii. 28. 
 
 Beard, defy ; IV. x. 40. 
 
 Bears; alluding to the cogni- 
 sance of the Nevib of War- 
 wick, a bear and ragged 
 staff; V. i. 144. 203. (The 
 annexed engraving repre- 
 sents the silver badge still 
 worn by the brethren of the 
 old hospital at Warwick,) 
 
 ' The 7-ampant bear chaijt'd to the 
 ragged staff.'' 
 
 Bear-ward,, hear-leader (Pope's 
 correctt'oTi of Folios i, 2, 
 " Berard" Folios 3, 4, "' Bear- 
 ard") ; V. i. 149. 
 
 Beat on, hammer on, keep on 
 thinking about ; II, i. 20. 
 
 Bedlam, a hospital for luna- 
 tics; V. i. 131. 
 
 Bedlam, lunatic. III. i. 51; V. 
 i. 132. 
 
 129
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Beldam, term of contempt for 
 an old woman ; I. iv. 44. 
 
 Bcshvezu, woe to; a mild form 
 of imprecation ; III. i. 184. 
 
 Bested ; " worse b.," in a worse 
 plight; II. iii. 56. 
 
 Bestrid, bestrode, stood over 
 him in posture of defence ; 
 V. iii. 9. 
 
 Betime, in good time; III. i. 
 285. 
 
 Beaonians, beggars; IV. i. 134. 
 
 Bills; " take up bills," get 
 goods on credit ; with a 
 quibble on (i) " bills "= hal- 
 berds, (2) " bills "= promis- 
 sory notes ; IV. vii. 130. 
 
 Blabbing, blurting out secrets ; 
 IV. i. I. 
 
 Blood-consuming sighs, refer- 
 ring to the old idea that each 
 sigh drew a drop of blood 
 from the heart ; III. ii. 61. 
 
 Bona terra, mala gens, i.e. " a 
 good land, a bad people " 
 (quoted by Lord Say, with 
 reference to Kent) ; IV. vii. 
 58. 
 
 Bones; " by these ten b.." i.e. 
 by these ten fingers ; an old 
 form of oath; I. iii. 191. 
 
 Book, learning (Anon. conj. 
 "books") ; IV. vii. 74. 
 
 Boot, booty; IV. i. 13. 
 
 Brave, defy; IV. x. 38. 
 
 Brazen, strong, impregnable : 
 III. ii. 89. 
 
 Break up, break open (Collier 
 MS., " break ope ") ; I. iv. 21. 
 
 Bristol (Folios, "Bristow"): 
 III. i. 328. 
 
 Broker, agent, negotiator; I. ii. 
 100. 
 
 Brook; "flying at the b.," let- 
 ting the falcon rise to pursue 
 his game ; II. i. i. 
 
 Brook, endure, bear ; V. i. 92. 
 
 Brow, aspect, appearance 
 (Johnson, "blozv"; Becket, 
 " brozi'se " ; Collier (Collier 
 MS.), "bloom"; Anon., 
 " gl zv " ; C a r t w r i g h t, 
 " prime ") ; V. iii. 4. 
 
 Brozvn bill, a kind of halberd; 
 IV. X. 14. 
 
 Brush, hurt, injury (Warbur- 
 ton. '' bruise ") ; V. iii, 3. 
 
 Bucklers, shields, defends; III. 
 ii. 216. 
 
 Buckram, coarse linen stiffened 
 with glue ; IV. vii. 24. 
 
 Bucks, linen for washing; IV. 
 ii. 48. 
 
 Burgonet, a close-fitting hel- 
 met ; V. i. 200. 
 
 From a specimen in the Londesborough 
 collection. 
 
 But that, only that one ; II. i. 
 
 99. 
 
 Buss, whisper ; I. ii. 99. 
 By, according to ; 111. i. 243. 
 
 130
 
 KING HENRY VT. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 By and by, immediately; TI. i. 
 
 T39- 
 By that, about that, on that 
 subject ; TI. i. i6. 
 
 Cade, small barrel ; IV. ii. 34. 
 Cage, lock-up ; IV. ii. 52. 
 Callet, a low woman (Dyce's 
 
 emendation of Folios, " Cal- 
 
 lot"); I. m.84. 
 Calm'd, becalmed ; IV. ix. 2,2)- 
 Cask, casket {B^ov^q," casket") \ 
 
 III. ii. 409. 
 
 Cease, to cause to cease; V. ii. 
 
 45. 
 Censure, opinion; I. iii. 118. 
 Censure ivell, approve; III. i. 
 
 275- 
 Chafe, heat, warm; III. ii. 141. 
 Chaps, jaws, mouth; III. i. 
 
 259- 
 Charm, appease, make silent ; 
 
 IV. i. 64. 
 
 Charneco, a kind of sweet wine 
 made at a village near Lis- 
 bon ; II. iii. 62,. 
 
 Check' d, reproved, rebuked ; I. 
 ii. 54. 
 
 Circuit, circlet, diadem ; III. i. 
 332. 
 
 Circtimstance, detailed phrases; 
 I. i. 105. 
 
 Cited, invited, urged ; III. ii. 281. 
 
 Clapp'd up, shut up ; I. iv. 52. 
 
 Clerkly, scholarly; III. i. 179. 
 
 Clime, country ; III. ii. 84. 
 
 Clip, embrace, surround (Theo- 
 bald's correction of Folios. 
 "Cleape"; Pope, "Clap")- 
 IV. i. 6. 
 
 Close, retired, private ; TI. ii. 3 ; 
 secret, II. iv. y2- 
 
 Clouted shoon, patched shoes; 
 generally used for hobnailed 
 boots ; IV. ii. 186. 
 
 Collect, gather bv observation ; 
 nLi.35. 
 
 Colour, pretext; III. i. 236. 
 
 Commandments ; " my ten c." 
 my ten fingers ; a cant phrase 
 of the time, still in use ; I. 
 iii. 143. 
 
 Commodities, goods, merchan- 
 dise; IV. vii. 130. 
 
 Companion, fellow: used con- 
 temptuously ; IV. X. T,2,. 
 
 Complot, plot; III. i. 147. 
 
 Concert (Folios, "Consort"), 
 a company of musicians; III. 
 ii. 327. 
 
 Condition, rank; V. i. 64. 
 
 Conduct, conductor, escort ; II. 
 iv. TGI. 
 
 Conduit; IV. vi. 3. Cp. illus- 
 tration. 
 
 From La Serre's view of Clieapsidf 
 1639. 
 
 131
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Conjurations, incantations ; I. 
 
 ii. 99. 
 Controller, censurer, detractor, 
 
 perhaps " dictator " ; III. ii. 
 
 205. 
 Convenient, proper, becoming; 
 
 I. iv. 8. 
 Conventicles, secret assemblies; 
 
 III. i. 166. 
 
 Corrosive, a pain-giving medic- 
 ament ; III. ii. 403. 
 
 Court-hand, the manner of 
 writing used in judicial pro- 
 ceedings ; IV. ii. 93. 
 
 Courtship, courtliness ; I. iii. 55. 
 
 Crab-tree, tree that bears crab- 
 apples ; III. ii. 214. 
 
 Cullions, hd.se wretches ;I.iii. 41. 
 
 Curst, shrewish, sharp ; III. ii. 
 312. 
 
 Custoin'd, customary ; V. i. 188. 
 
 Day, time, space; II. i. 2. 
 
 Dead as a door-nail; a prover- 
 bial expression ; " the door- 
 nail is the nail on which, in 
 ancient doors, the knocker 
 strikes. It is therefore used 
 as a comparison to any one 
 irrecoverably dead, one who 
 has fallen (as Virgil says) 
 multa morte, that is, with 
 abundant death, such as iter- 
 ation of strokes on the head 
 would naturallv produce " ; 
 
 IV. X. 43. 
 
 Deathful, deadly; TIL ii. 404. 
 Deathsjiian, executioner; III. 
 
 ii. 217. 
 Dedicate, dedicated; V. ii. 37. 
 Deep-fet, deep-fetched; II. iv. 
 
 33- 
 
 Demanding of, questioning 
 about ; II. i. 172. 
 
 Demean, deport, behave ; I. i. 
 188. 
 
 Demean' d, conducted ; I. iii. 
 104. 
 
 Denay'd, denied (Folio 4, 
 " deny'd ") ; I. iii. 105. 
 
 Depart, departure ; I. i. 2. 
 
 Discharge, (?) payment (per- 
 haps " giving up the troops 
 and turning them over to 
 my command") ; I. iii. 170. 
 
 Discomfit, discouragement (Fo- 
 lios, " discomiiie " ; Capell, 
 " discomfort '') ; V. ii. 86. 
 
 Dispense zvith, obtain dispensa- 
 tion from; V. i. 181. 
 
 Dispursed, disbursed (Folio 4, 
 " disbursed ") ; III. i. 117. 
 
 Distract, distracted; III. ii. 318. 
 
 Doit, the smallest piece of 
 money; the twelfth part of a 
 penny; III. i. 112. 
 
 Drain, drop (Rann, Capell, 
 '' rain ") ; III. ii. 142. 
 
 Earnest-gaping, earnestly riv- 
 eted (Anon conj. "earnest- 
 gazing") ; III. ii. 105. 
 
 Effected, effectively proved ; 
 III. i. 170. 
 
 Emblaze, emblazon, glorify be- 
 fore the world ; IV. x. 76. 
 
 Emmanuel; an allusion to the 
 fact that documents were fre- 
 quently headed with the 
 name {cp. Kelly's " Notices 
 of Leicester," pp. 119, 207, 
 227) ; IV. ii. 98. 
 
 Empty, hungry, famished; III. 
 i. 248. 
 
 132
 
 KING HENRY VI 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Entreat, treat; II. iv. 8i. 
 Envious, spiteful ; II. iv. 12 ; 
 
 II. iv. 35; " e. load," load of 
 
 malice; III. i. 157. 
 Exorcisms, charms for raising 
 
 spirits ; I. iv. 5. 
 Expedient, expeditious: III. i. 
 
 288. 
 
 Fact, deed ; I. iii. 174. 
 
 Fain of, glad to, fond of; II. 
 i.8. 
 
 False-heart, false-hearted ; V. i. 
 143. 
 
 Familiar, familiar spirit ; IV. 
 vii. 1 10. 
 
 Faz'our, lenity ; IV. vii. 69. 
 
 Fearful, full of fear, III. i. 331 ; 
 timorous, IV. iv. 2 ; cowardly, 
 IV. viii. 44. 
 
 Fee-simple, lands held in fee- 
 simple ; IV. X. 27. 
 
 Fell-lurking, lurking to do mis- 
 chief ; V. i. 146. 
 
 Felon (?) felony; III. i. 132. 
 
 Fence, skill in fencing; II. i. 
 
 53. 
 Fifteens, fifteenths; IV. vii. 21. 
 Fifteenth, the fifteenth part of 
 
 all the personal property of 
 
 a subject ; I. i. 133. 
 Flazv, sudden burst of wind, 
 
 gust; III. i. 354. 
 Flozver-de-luce, the emblem of 
 
 France (Folios i, 2, " Fleiire- 
 
 de-Luce " ; Folios 3. 4, 
 
 " Floure-de Luce ") : V. i. 11. 
 Fond, foolish ; III. i. 36. 
 Foot-clotJi, a kind of housing 
 
 for a horse, so long that it 
 
 nearly swept the ground; IV. 
 
 i-54- 
 
 From a XVth century illumination in 
 the Nation:il Library, Paris. 
 
 For, because; II. iii. 9; on ac- 
 count of (Folios 2, 3. 4. 
 " ivith") : IV. vii. 86. 
 
 Force perforce, by very force ; 
 I. i. 258. 
 
 Forsooth, certainly, in truth ; 
 used contemptuously; III. ii. 
 183. 
 
 Forth, forth from (Folios 3, 4. 
 "from") ; III. ii. 89. 
 
 Forthcoming, in custodv ; II. i. 
 176. 
 
 Fretful, gnawing; III. ii. 403. 
 
 From, away from ; III. ii. 401. 
 
 Furniture, equipment ; I. iii. 
 170. 
 
 Furred pack, a kind of knap- 
 sack or wallet made of skin 
 with the hair outwards ; IV. 
 ii. 48. 
 
 Gait, walking {¥o\\os" gate") ; 
 
 III. i. 373. 
 Gallozvglasscs, heavy - armed 
 foot soldiers of Ireland and 
 the Western Isles; IV. iv. 
 26. 
 
 133
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Gather Jirad, assemble forces; 
 
 IV. V. 10. 
 Gear, affair, business (Folios, 
 
 "geer"), I. iv. i6; matter. 
 
 III. i. 91. 
 
 George, badge of the Order of 
 the Garter ; IV. i. 29. 
 
 Ghost, corpse: III. ii. 161. 
 
 Gird, invest (Folios and Quar- 
 tos "girt") ; I. i. 65. 
 
 Gnarling, snarling; III. i. 192. 
 
 Go; " let him g.," i.e. let him 
 pass from your thoughts ; II. 
 iii. 47. 
 
 Go about, attempt ; II. i. 143. 
 
 Gobbets, mouthfuls ; IV. i. 85. 
 
 Gone out; " had not gone out," 
 i.e. " would not have taken 
 flight at the game " ; II. i. 4. 
 
 Got, secured ; V. iii. 20. 
 
 Graceless, impious ; IV. iv. 38. 
 
 Graft, grafted ; III. ii. 214. 
 
 Groat, a small piece of money 
 worth four pence; III. i. 113. 
 
 Hale, drag forcibly ; IV. i. 131. 
 Half -faced sun, the device on 
 
 the standard of Edward III. ; 
 
 ( Vaughan. " pale-faced ") ; 
 
 IV. i. 98. 
 
 From badges of the House of York, 
 worn by yi) Richard II., (2) Edward 
 IV., (3) Richard III. Figs. (2) and 
 (3) show the conjunction of a half- 
 faced sun and a white rose. 
 
 Hammering, pondering; I. ii. 
 
 47- 
 Hamper, fetter, entangle ; I. iii. 
 
 148. 
 Hap, fortune ; III. i. 314. 
 Haply, perchance, perhaps ; III. 
 
 i. 240. 
 Happily, haply, perhaps (Fo- 
 lios 2, 3, 4, " haply") : III. i. 
 
 306. 
 Hardly, with difficulty ; with 
 
 play upon hardly, scarcely, 1. 
 
 74 (Theobald, "hardily")', 
 
 I. iv. 72,- 
 Have, possess ; V. iii. 20. 
 Have at him, I shall hit at him; 
 
 IV. ii. 120. 
 Heavy, sad, sorrowful; III. ii. 
 
 306. 
 Hempen caudle, a slang phrase 
 
 for hanging ("caudle," a 
 
 comforting drink) ; IV. vii. 
 
 91. 
 Henry, trisyllabic; III. ii. 131. 
 Here, at this point, IV. iv. 76 
 
 (Heath. " hence " ; Hudson, 
 
 Walker, "there"); II. iv. 
 
 79- 
 Hinds, boors, peasants; III. ii. 
 
 271 ; IV. ii. 121. 
 Hoise, hoist, heave away (Fo- 
 lios, " hoyse " ; Quartos, 
 
 " h e a u e " ', Theobald. 
 
 "hoist") ; Li. 169. 
 Horse, horse's (Folios 3, 4, 
 
 " horses " \ R o w e reads 
 
 "horse's"; C a p e 1 1. 
 
 "horse' ") ; IV. iii. 14. 
 Hose and doublets; "in their 
 
 h. and d.," i.e. without a 
 
 cloak ; IV. vii. 53. 
 
 134
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Household, family (Malone's 
 correction (from Quartos) 
 of Folio I, "housed"', Fo- 
 lios 2, 3. 4. "houses") ; V. i. 
 201. 
 
 Housekeeping, keeping open 
 house, hospitality; I. i. 191. 
 
 Ill-nurtured, ill-bred (Folio 4, 
 " ill-natur'd ") ; I. ii. 42. 
 
 Images (?) dissyllabic ( Walker, 
 " image' ") ; I. iii. 61. 
 
 Imprimis, firstly, in the first 
 place; I. i. 43. 
 
 Impugns, opposes; III. i. 281. 
 
 In, into; III. ii. 287. 
 
 In eapife, a law term, signify- 
 ing a tenure of the sovereign 
 immediately as feudal lord ; 
 used quibblingly ; IV. vii. 
 126. 
 
 Inch; "at an i.." in the nick of 
 time ; I. iv. 44. 
 
 Indigested, formless, shapeless ; 
 V. i. 157. 
 
 Infortunate, unfortunate (Fo- 
 lios 3, 4. "unfortunate"); 
 IV. ix. 18. 
 
 Injurious, insolent ; I. iv. 50. 
 
 Instance, proof; III. ii. 159. 
 
 Invitis nubibus, in spite of the 
 clouds (z'ide " half-faced 
 sun ") ; IV. i. 99. 
 
 Iris, goddess of the rainbow 
 and messenger of Juno ; here, 
 messenger; III. ii. 407. 
 
 Item, originally = 1 i k e w i s e, 
 used in enumerating; I. i. 50. 
 
 laded, no better than a jade 
 ( Capell, from Quartos, 
 " jady") ; IV. i. 52. 
 
 lades, term of contempt or 
 pity for a maltreated or 
 worthless horse ; applied to 
 the dragons of Night's char- 
 iot ; IV. i. 3. 
 
 Jar, discord ; IV. viii. 43. 
 
 Joy, enjoy ; III. ii. 365. 
 
 i^rw, descry, discern ; III. ii. loi. 
 Kennel, gutter; IV. i. 71. 
 Kernes, Irish soldiers ; III. i. 
 
 310. 
 Killingworth, an old form of 
 
 Kenilworth ; IV. iv. 39. 
 
 Laid, beset, laid with traps ; IV. 
 
 X. 4. 
 Laugh, smile ; " the world miy 
 
 I. again," i.e. fortune may 
 smile on me again; II. iv. 82. 
 
 Lay, stake, wager (Folios 3, 4. 
 
 " day ") ; V. ii. 27. 
 Leave,, leave off, desist ; II. i. 
 
 179; ni. ii. 2>2>2>- 
 Lesser, smaller ; IV. x. 50. 
 Lezvdly, wickedly; II. i. 164. 
 Liefest, dearest ; III. i. 164. 
 Light, alight, descend; I. iii. 91. 
 Like; "an it 1.." if it please; 
 
 II. i. 9. 
 
 Limed, smeared with bird- 
 lime; I. iii. 89. 
 
 Lime-twigs, twigs smeared 
 with lime for catching birds ; 
 
 III. iii. t6. 
 
 Listen after, gain information 
 
 about ; I. iii. 150. 
 Lived, would live ; II. ii. 399. 
 Lizards' stings, alluding to the 
 
 old l)elief that lizards have 
 
 stings, which they have not ; 
 
 III. ii. 325. 
 
 13;
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Loather, more unwilling; III, 
 ii- 355. 
 
 Lodged, beat down ; technical 
 term for the beating down 
 of grain by violent weather ; 
 III. ii. 176. 
 
 London-stone, an ancient land- 
 mark, still carefully pre- 
 served in Cannon Street. 
 London ; IV. vi. 2. 
 
 From Aggas's Map of^ London, pre- 
 beivedia C/Ui.dhall. 
 
 Lordiugs, lords ; I. i. 145. 
 
 Madding, growing mad with 
 love; III. ii. 117. 
 
 Mail'd np in shame, " wrapped 
 up in disgrace " ; alluding to 
 the " sheet of penance " 
 (Johnson) ; II. iv. 31. 
 
 Alain, chief point; used with 
 play upon " Maine " and 
 " niain force " ; I. i. 209. 
 
 Mained, maimed (Folio 4. 
 " maim'd") ; IV. ii. 163. 
 
 Make, draw up ; IV. ii. 93. 
 
 Make shift, contrive; IV. viii. 33. 
 
 Mandrake, " a plant the root of 
 which was supposed to re- 
 semble the human figure ; it 
 was said to cause madness 
 
 and even death when torn 
 from the ground " ; III. ii. 
 310. (Illustration in 2 Henry 
 IV.) 
 
 Mass, by the mass ; an assev- 
 eration ; II. i. loi. 
 
 Mates, checkmates, confounds, 
 disables ; III. i. 265. 
 
 Mechanical, mechanic ; I. iii. 
 194. 
 
 Meetest, most suitable ; I. iii. 
 161. 
 
 Mercy ; " I cry you m.," I beg 
 your pardon; I. iii. 140. 
 
 Mickle, much, great (Folio 2, 
 " milckie " ; Folios 3. 4, 
 "milky")', V.i. 174- 
 
 Middest, midst (Folio 4. 
 "midst") ; IV. viii. 64. 
 
 Minion, pert, saucy person ; I. 
 iii. 139. 
 
 Minister, instrument; III. i. 
 355- 
 
 Miscarry, perish ; IV. viii. 49. 
 
 Misdoubt, diffidence; III. i. 332. 
 
 Monuments, memorials, me- 
 mentos ; III. ii. 342. 
 
 Morisco, morris-dancer; III. i. 
 365. 
 
 Mortal, deadly, fatal; III. ii. 
 263. 
 
 Mounsieiir, Monsieur; IV. vii. 
 28. 
 
 Mournful, mourning, express- 
 ing sorrow ; III. i. 226. 
 
 Muse, wonder; III. i. i. 
 
 Naughtw bad, wicked ; II. 1. 
 
 164. 
 Next; "the n.," what follows; 
 
 in. i. 383. 
 
 136
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Ni^Ii, well-nigh, nearly; III. ii. 
 
 82. 
 Nominate, name ; II. i. 129. 
 Notice, information (conj. 
 
 " note") ; III. i. 166. 
 Numbers; " factious n.." bands 
 
 of factious retainers ; II. i. 
 
 40. 
 
 Obligations, contracts; IV. ii. 
 
 93. 
 
 Obsequies, shows of love; III. 
 ii. 146. 
 
 O'eriveening, overbearing, pre- 
 sumptuous; V. i. 151. 
 
 Omitting, leaving unregarded; 
 III. ii. 382. 
 
 Opposites, adversaries ; V. iii. 
 22. 
 
 Order; " take o.," make ar- 
 rangements, III. i. 320; man- 
 ner, III. ii. 129. 
 
 Out, given out, i.e. given up 
 (Walker, "over"; Cart- 
 wright, " up ") ; IV. viii. 27. 
 
 Over-bloivn, blown over, dis- 
 pelled ; I. iii. 153. 
 
 Packing, " send me p.." send 
 me away ; III. i. 342. 
 
 Pageant (trisyllabic); I. ii. 67. 
 
 Palmer's, pilgrim's ; V. i. 97. 
 
 Palsy, paralysis ; IV. vii. 98. 
 
 Paly, pale; III. ii. 141. 
 
 Part, party ; V. ii. 35. 
 
 Particularities, single or pri- 
 vate respects (opposed to 
 "general " in previous line) ; 
 V. ii. 44. 
 
 Pass, care, regard; IV. ii. 136. 
 
 Pen and ink horn; IV. ii. 108. 
 Cp. illustration. 
 
 From an effigy in Ellesmere Church, 
 Salop. 
 
 Period, end, stop ; III. i. 149. 
 Perish, cause to perish; III. ii. 
 
 100. 
 Pinnace, a small two-masted 
 
 vessel ; IV. i. 9. 
 Pitch, the height to which a 
 
 falcon soars ; II. i. 6. 
 Plainness, frankness, sincerity ; 
 
 I. i. loi. 
 Plot, plot of ground, spot; II. 
 
 ii. 60. 
 Pointing-stock, object to be 
 
 pointed at, butt ; II. iv. 46. 
 Pole, pronounced Poole; IV. i. 
 
 70. 
 Porpentine, porcupine (Rowe, 
 
 " porcupine ") ; III. i. 363. 
 Port, deportment, carriage ; IV. 
 
 i. 19. 
 Posted over, slurred over; III. 
 
 i.255. 
 
 Pot; "three-hooped p.." a 
 wooden drinking - vessel 
 bound with hoops ; IV. ii. 66. 
 
 Pozver, armed force; IV. iv. 40. 
 
 Practice, plotting; III. ii. 22. 
 
 Practised, plotted; II. i. t68. 
 
 137
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Premised, sent before the time: 
 
 (Delius, "'promised'') ; V. ii. 
 
 41. 
 'Prentice, apprentice; I. iii. 199. 
 Presence, Cade's blunder for 
 
 " presents " ; IV. vii. 29. 
 Present, immediate; V. iii. 25. 
 Presently, immediatel}'^ ; I. i. 
 
 171 ; III. ii. 18. 
 Pretty-vaulting, bounding in a 
 
 pleasant manner (Folios. 
 
 "pretty vaulting"); III. ii. 
 
 94. 
 Priest, father-confessor ; III. i. 
 
 Private, retired ; II. ii. 60. 
 Procurator, substitute, proxy ; 
 
 I.i.3. 
 
 Proof ; " his coat is of p.,'' used 
 with a quibble on the two 
 senses of "proof," (i) able 
 to resist. (2) well-worn, 
 long worn ; IV. ii. 60. 
 
 Proper, handsome ; IV. ii. 94. 
 
 Proportion, shape, form; I. iii. 
 
 55. 
 Puissant (dissyllabic) ; IV. ix. 
 
 25. 
 Pursuivant, a lower rank of 
 herald, a state messenger ; T. 
 
 iii. 35- 
 Puttock's. kite's; III. ii. 191. 
 
 Quaint, fine ; III. ii. 274. 
 
 Quill; "in the q.." z'ide Note; 
 
 I. iii. 3. 
 Quillets, subtleties, sly tricks in 
 
 argument ; III. i. 261. 
 Quire, choir ; I. iii. 90. 
 Quitting, freeing; III. ii. 218. 
 
 Rack'd, harassed by exactions ; 
 I. iii. 129. 
 
 Ras;^ed, rugged, rough; III. ii. 
 
 98. 
 Rascal, rascally; II. iv. 47. 
 Rauglit, having been gained 
 
 (lit. '* reached " ; Capell. 
 
 " wrenched"; others = 
 
 "reft"); II. iii. 43. 
 Razing, erasing, blotting out ; 
 
 I. i. loi. 
 Rear, raise ; III. ii. 34. 
 Reave, deprive ; V. i. 187. 
 Relent, yield, comply (Collier 
 
 MS., "repent") ; IV. viii. 11. 
 Remorse, pit)% compassion ; IV. 
 
 vii. 107. 
 Remorseful, compassionate ; 
 
 IV. i. I. 
 Repairing; " of such r. nature," 
 
 i.e. so able to recover from 
 
 defeat ; V. iii. 22. 
 Repeal, recall from banish- 
 ment ; III. ii. 349. 
 Reprove, disprove, refute ; III. 
 
 i. 40. 
 Reputing 0/, boasting of (Rowe. 
 
 '' by repeating ") ; III. i. 48. 
 Respecting, considering; III. i. 
 
 24. 
 Revenues; I. iii. 81. 
 Reverent, humble ; III. i. 34. 
 Revolt, turn back (Anon. conj. 
 
 "repent") ; IV. ii. 124. 
 Right nozv, just now ; III. ii. 40. 
 Roast; " rule the r.," Pope's 
 
 emendation of Folios " rost,'' 
 
 Quartos, " roast " ; Grant 
 
 White. " roost " ; according 
 
 to some the phrase originally 
 
 meant " to rule the roost." i.e. 
 
 the " hen-roost " ; 1. 1. 109. 
 Rude, rough, ill-mannered ; III. 
 
 ii- 135- 
 
 138
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 Ruder, more unrefined; I. i. 30. 
 
 Sack, generic name for Spanish 
 and Canary wine; II. iii. 
 60. 
 
 Saint Magnus' corner; IV. 
 viii. I. 
 
 From Aggas's Map of London, pre- 
 served in Guildhall. 
 
 Sallet, salad. IV. x. 9; a kind 
 of helmet, with a play upon 
 the two senses of the word; 
 IV.x. II. 
 
 From an illumination of the XVth 
 century. 
 
 San it a Ma jest as, sacred ma- 
 jesty (Pope, "majesty" \ 
 Capell, from Quartos, " santa 
 maestd") ; V. i. 5. 
 
 Savoy, the Palace of the Duke 
 of Lancaster; destroyed hy 
 the rebels under Wat Tyler, 
 and not rebuilt till the reign 
 of Henry VII.; IV.vii.2. 
 
 From Aggas's Maf of London, pre- 
 served in Guildhall. 
 
 Saws, maxims, moral sayings; 
 
 I. iii. 59. 
 Say, a kind of satin ; IV. vii. 24. 
 Scathe, injury ; II. iv. 62. 
 Score, a notch made on a tally ; 
 
 IV. vii. 35- 
 Seemeth; "me s.," it seems to 
 
 me; III. i. 23. 
 Shearman, one who uses the 
 
 tailor's shears; IV. ii. 132. 
 Shrewd, bad. evil; II. iii. 41. 
 Sicil, Sicily ; I. i. 6. 
 Silent; " the s. of the night " 
 
 (Collier MS., from Quartos, 
 
 "silence") ; I. iv. 18. 
 Silly, poor (used as a term of 
 
 pity, not of contempt) ; I. i. 
 
 225. 
 Since, when ; III. i. 9. 
 Sir, a common title of priests; 
 
 I. ii. 68. 
 Skills, matters: III. i. 281. 
 Slough, the skin of a snake; 
 
 III. i. 229. 
 Smart, painful; III. ii. 325. 
 
 139
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Smooth, bland, insinuative; III. 
 i.65. 
 
 Smoothing, flattering; I. i. 156. 
 
 Smooth'st, flatterest ; II. i. 22. 
 
 So, if only ; V. i. 53. 
 
 Soft, hush, stop; II. iv. 15. 
 
 Somethne, sometimes ; II. iv. 
 42. 
 
 Sophister, captious reasoner ; 
 V. i. 191. 
 
 Sort, company, set, II, i. 164; 
 III. ii. 277. 
 
 Sort, adapt, make conformable, 
 
 • II. iv. 68; let it fall out, I. 
 ii. 107. 
 
 Sour, bitter ; III. ii. 301. 
 
 Span-counter, a game " in 
 which one player throws a 
 counter, which the other 
 wins, if he can throw an- 
 other to hit it, or lie within 
 a span of it" (Nares) ; IV. 
 ii. 157. 
 
 Spleenful, hot, eager; III. ii. 
 128. 
 
 Splitting, wont to split the 
 sides of vessels ; III. ii. 97. 
 
 Spoil, despoil, plunder; IV. iv. 
 
 53. 
 
 Sprays, shoots, twigs ; II. iii. 45. 
 
 Starved, benumbed with cold; 
 HI. i. 343- 
 
 State, estate ; IV. x. 24. 
 
 Stays, ceases, ends ; II. iv. 76. 
 
 Stigmatic, one branded by na- 
 ture with deformity; V. i. 
 215. 
 
 Still, continually; III. i. 239. 
 
 Stomachs, angry tempers; II. 
 i.56. 
 
 Strait, strict (Folio 4, 
 "strange") ; III. ii. 258. 
 
 Straiter, more severely ; III. ii. 
 20. 
 
 Stray, vagrant ; IV. x. 27. 
 
 Strength, army ; III. i. 380. 
 
 Style; "large style"; high- 
 sounding list of titles ; I. i. 
 III. 
 
 Subornation, abetting, inciting; 
 III. i. 45. . 
 
 Subscribe, yield the point; III. 
 i.38. 
 
 Suddenly, immediately, at once; 
 II.ii.67. 
 
 Suffer'd, allowed to have his 
 way; V. i. 153. 
 
 SuMceth, it sufficeth ; IV. x. 24. 
 
 Suifocate, suffocated (with a 
 quibble upon "Suffolk") ; I. 
 i. 124. 
 
 Suspect, suspicion (Folios, 
 "suspence"; Rowe. "suspi- 
 cion"; Malone (Steevens), 
 " suspects") ; III. i. 40. 
 
 Szvallozving; " for s.," that it 
 may not swallow (Folios 3, 4, 
 '' szvallou'ing up ") ; IV. i. 74. 
 
 Szvorder, gladiator ; IV. i. 135. 
 
 Sylla; Sulla, the rival of Ma- 
 rius ; IV. i. 84. 
 
 Tainture, defilement ; II. i. 185. 
 
 Take my death, take it upon 
 my death ; an oath ; II. iii. 89. 
 
 Tally, a stick on which notches 
 or scores were cut to keep 
 accounts by ; IV. vii. 35. 
 
 Temper, moisten, wet; III. i. 
 
 311. 
 Tend, attend, wait on; III. ii. 
 
 304. 
 Tender, have care for; III. i. 
 277. 
 
 140
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Glossary 
 
 That, would that; I. iv. 30; so 
 
 that, III. i. 12. 
 Thorough, through ; IV. i. 87. 
 Threatesf, threatenest (FoHos 
 
 3, 4, " threaten' St ") ; I. iv. 50. 
 Tickle, tickhsh. unstable ; I. i. 
 
 216. 
 Tickled, vexed, irritated; I. iii. 
 
 151. 
 
 Timeless, imtimely ; III. ii. 187. 
 
 Timely-farted, having died a 
 natural death; III. ii. 161. 
 
 To, compared to ; III. i. 64. 
 
 Tozvards, monosyllabic ; III. ii. 
 90. 
 
 Tozuer, soar, fly high ; II. i. 10. 
 
 Treasury, treasure; I. iii. 132. 
 
 Trencher, plate ; IV. i. 57. 
 
 Trozv'st, thinkest ; II. iv. 38. 
 
 Tully, Cicero ; IV. i. 136. 
 
 Tumble dozvn, make to fall ; I. 
 ii. 48. 
 
 Tzi'it, twitted; III. i. 178. 
 
 Tzvo-hand szvord, sword wield- 
 ed with two hands ; II. i. 46. 
 
 Uncivil, ill-mannered, rude; 
 
 III. i. 310. 
 Unciirable, incurable (Folios 3, 
 
 4, " incurable ") ; III. i. 286. 
 Uneath, not easily; II. iv. 8. 
 Unmeet, unsuitable ; I. iii. 167. 
 Untiitord, untaught, rude; III. 
 
 ii.213. 
 
 Vantages, advantages; I. i. 131. 
 
 Verge, compass, circle ; I. iv. 24. 
 
 Villiago, base coward (Theo- 
 bald reads " Villagcois '' ; 
 Capell, " Viliaco " ; a corrup- 
 tion of Italian Vigliacco, ras- 
 cal ; IV. viii. 48, 
 
 Void, devoid; IV. vii. 66. 
 Voiding lobby, a n t e - r o o m, 
 waiting room; IV. i. 61. 
 
 Waft, carry, bear; IV. i. 114. 
 
 Jl^alter, pronounced "water"; 
 IV.i.31. 
 
 Waning, decline, loss (Rowe, 
 "zvaining"; Folios, " zvarn- 
 ing ") ; IV. x.;22. 
 
 JVard, custody, confinement; 
 V. i. 112. 
 
 Jl^ell given, well-disposed; III. 
 i. 72. 
 
 What, who; III. i. 107; what- 
 ever, III. i. 132. 
 
 IVJiere, whereas ; III. ii. 394. 
 
 Whether, monosyllabic (Fo- 
 lios, "zvhere"); III. ii. 265. 
 
 White Hart, probably a tavern 
 in Southwark ; used with a 
 quibble on white-heart == 
 cowardly (Folios i, 2, 3, 
 " zvhitc-heart ") ; IV. viii. 25. 
 
 Wlio, whom; III. ii. 127; he 
 who ; IV. viii. 14. 
 
 Whom, which; III. ii. 345. 
 
 JVink, shut your eyes; II. i. 
 105. 
 
 JVitch, bewitch (Theobald's 
 correction of Folios. 
 " zvatch") ; III. ii. 116. 
 
 JVith; "I am with you," I'll 
 be there, I understand; II. i. 
 49. 
 
 Woe, woful ; "be w. for me," 
 be sorrowful, feel sorrow, 
 for me ; III. ii. 73. 
 
 JJ'orm, snake, serpent ; III. ii. 
 263. 
 
 Worn, effaced from memory; 
 II. iv. 69. 
 
 141
 
 Glossary 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Worthy, worthy of; III. i. 68. 
 Would, requires, desires; II. 
 
 iii. 21. 
 Wreck, ruin (Folios, 
 
 " IV rack ") ; I. iii. 125. 
 Wrest, misinterpret ; III. i. 186. 
 
 Wrested, took 
 III. i. 112. 
 
 wrongfully 
 
 Y-clad, clad; I. i. 2>2>' 
 Yet, still, even then; II. iv 
 65. 
 
 ?43
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Critical Notes. 
 
 BY ISRAEL GOLLANCZ. 
 
 1. i. I. 'As by your high' etc.; 'The Contention' reads: — 'As 
 by your high imperial majesty's command.' 
 
 I. i. 7. 'and'; the reading of Folio i ; Folios 2, 3, 4 omit it. 
 
 I. i. 19. 'lends'; Rowe, ' lend'st.' 
 
 T. i. 50. 'duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine'; changed 
 by Capell from Quartos to ' dutchies of Anjou and Maine.' 
 
 I. i. 63. 'kneel down'; Pope reads 'kneel you down'; Keight- 
 ley, Collier MS., ' kneel thee down.' Perhaps ' kneel ' is to be read 
 as a dissyllable. 
 
 I. i. 88. ' Beaufort ' ; Folios read ' Beauford ' ; Rowe, ' Bedford.' 
 
 I. ,i. 93. 'And had his highness in his infancy Crowned' ; Grant 
 White's emendation of Folios, 'And hath . . . Crowned'; 
 Rowe reads, 'And was . . . Crowned ' ; Capell, ' Or hath 
 . . . Been crown'd'; Malone, 'And hath . . . Been 
 croivn'd.' 
 
 I. i. 102. 'Defacing' ; Capell reads. 'Reversing,' following' The 
 Contention.' 
 
 I. i. 247. 'humours fits'; so Folios, Quartos; Rowe reads 
 'humour fits'; Malone, 'humours fit.' 
 
 I. ii. 22. 'My troublous dream this night doth make me sad'; 
 Capell's emendation of Folios, ' My troublous dreames . . . 
 doth,' etc. 
 
 I. ii. 38. 'And in that chair where kings and queens are 
 crown'd'; 'are', Hanmer's correction from Quartos; Folios i, 
 2, read, ' wer ' ; Folios 3, 4. ' zvere.' 
 
 I. ii. 59. ' thou wilt ride with us ' ; Dyce, from Quartos, ' thou 'It 
 ride zuith us, I 'm sure ' ; Hanmer, ' thou too wilt ride with us ' ; 
 Vaughan, 'thou; thou wilt ride with us.' 
 
 I. ii. 71. 'What say'st thou? majesty! ' ; Capell reads from 
 Quartos, 'My majesty! why man'; Vaughan, 'What say'st 
 thou, " Majesty "? ' etc. 
 
 I. ii. TOO. 'A crafty knave does need no broker'; an old prov- 
 erb given in Ray's collection. 
 
 143
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 I. iii. 3. 'In the quill': Hanmer, 'in quill'; Jackson, 'in 
 quiet'; Singer, 'in the coil'; Collier MS., 'in sequel,' etc. In 
 Ainsworth's Latin Dictionary, 1761, the phrase is rendered, ' ex 
 cowpacto agnnt.' Halliwell and others explain it also as 'all 
 together in a bod3\' This interpretation is borne out by a pas- 
 sage in ' The Devonshire Damsel's Frolic ' one of the ' Songs and 
 Sonnets in the collection called ' Choyce Drollery,' etc. (1656) : — 
 
 " Thus those females zvere all in a quill 
 And follozfing on their pastimes still." 
 
 No satisfactory explanation has yet been given of the origin of the 
 phrase. The following solution is suggested: — 'the quill' I take 
 to be a popular elaboration of the more correct phrase ' a quill/ 
 vvhich occurs in the ballad quoted ; the latter seems to be a cor- 
 ruption of French accueil, O.F. acueil, acoil, akel, achoil, etc., ' a 
 gathering" together.' It is noteworthy that a verb ' aquyle ' oc- 
 curs in one passage in Middle English, where in all probability, 
 it is the English form of the verb ' aecuelillir.' (Cp. Pearl, ed. 
 Gollancz, p. 122.) 
 
 I. iii. 31. 'master zvas'; Warburton's emendation of Folios, 
 ' mistress was.' 
 
 I. iii. 69. ' haughty ' ; probably an error for ' liaught,' the read- 
 ing of Folios 2, 3, 4; Pope, 'proud.' 
 
 I. iii. 91. ' to the lays' ; Rowe. ' their lays.' 
 
 I. iii. 147. 'most master zcear'; 'master' Halliwell, 'masters'; 
 ' zvcar,' so Folio i; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' zvears,' 'most master' ^^^ ihe. 
 one who is most master,' i.e. * the queen.' 
 
 I. iii. 151. 'fume needs'; Grant Wlfite (Dyce and Walker 
 conj.) 'fury,' which seems a most plausible emendation; 'needs/ 
 the reading of Folio i ; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' can need ' ; Keightley, 
 ' needs nozju/ 
 
 I. iii. 152. ' far ' ; Pope reads ' fast/ adopted by many editors. 
 
 I. iii. 206. ' TJiis doom, my lord, if I may judge '; Capell reads 
 * This do, my lord, if I may be the judge' ; Dyce from Quartos, 
 ' This is my doom, my lord, if I may judge '; Vaughan conjectured 
 ' This doom, my lord, if I may judge, is lazju' ; Collier MS., ' This 
 doom, my gracious lord, if I may judge/ 
 
 I. iii. 216. 'the spite of man'; Capell reads 'the sight of my 
 master'; Folios 2, 3, read ' the spite of my man'; Folio 4, 'the 
 spite of my master'; Collier MS., 'the spite of this man'; 
 Steevens, ' the spite of a man ' : ^/aughan conj. ' the spite of many/ 
 
 144
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 L iv. 34. ' IVIiat fates azcait ' ; so Folios; Pope reads, ' Tell me 
 Zi'hat fates await'; Capell, ' What fate awaits'; Vaughan, ' What 
 fates awaiteth them ' ; Wordsworth, ' Tell me what fate awaits.' 
 
 I. iv. 44. 'we watch' d yoii at an inch'; Daniel, 'zve've catch'd 
 in the nick,' or 'at the nick.' 
 
 I. iv. 64. ' Aio te, JBacida, Romanos vinccre posse'; the am- 
 higiious answer which Pyrrhns received from the oracle at Delphi 
 before his war against the Romans ; meaning either ' I say that 
 thou, the descendant of ^^acus, mayest conquer the Romans,' or, 
 ' I say that the Romans may conquer thee, descendant of y^Lacus ' ; 
 'be' inserted by Warburton ; Folios i, 2, read, 'JEacida'; Folios, 
 3, 4, 'jEacide ' ; Rowe, ' te JEacidem.' 
 
 II. i. 24. ' Tantccne aniniis coelcstihus ircrf ' Is such resentment 
 found in heavenly minds?' (^neid, i. 15.) Omitted by Pope. 
 
 II. i. 26. ' PVith such holiness can you do it ' ; omitted by Pope. 
 Warburton, 'With such holiness can you not do it?'; Johnson, 
 'A churchman, zvith such,' etc.; Collier MS., 'And ivith such 
 holiness you well can do it'; the old play 'dote' for 'do it.' 
 Many emendations have been proposed. If the original reading is 
 retained, it must be considered ironical. 
 
 II. i. 29. 'you'; Pope, 'yourself.' 
 
 II. i. 34. 'furious'; Folio 2, ' too-too furious.' 
 
 II. i. 47. 11. 47 to 49, given in Folios to Glostcr ; corrected by 
 Theobald. 
 
 II. i. 54. ' Medicc, tcipsmn — '; "Physician, heal thyself; from 
 the Vulgate (Luke iv. 22,). Folios read ' Medice tcipsum'; Rowe, 
 ' Medice cura tcipsum ' etc. ; omitted by Pope. 
 
 II. i. 69. 'To present your highness with the man'; Pope 
 reads, 'Before your highness to present the man ' ; Capell, ' Come 
 to present your highness zcith the man,' etc. 
 
 II. i. 91. ' Simpcox' ; Pope's emendation (Theobold conj.) of 
 Folios ' Symon' ; Capell, 'Sounder.' 
 
 II. i. 135. 'things called zvhips'; Halliwell and others quote 
 from Armin's Nest of Ninnies (1608); 'There are, as Hamlet 
 sales, things cald zchips in store'; this cannot refer, as has been 
 supposed, to Hamlet's 'zchips and scorns of time,' but may well 
 have occurred in the pre-Shakespearian Hamlet. The actual 
 words are to be found in Kyd's Spanish Tragedy: — 
 
 " Well heaven is heaven stiil ! 
 And there is Nemesis, and furies, 
 And things call'd whips." 
 
 145
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Perhaps Armin wrote ' Hamlet ' when he meant ' Jeronimy.' 
 
 II. i. i8o. ' vanquish' d ' ; Walker, ' languish' d ' ; Vaughan, 
 ' banish'd.' 
 
 II. li. 6. 'at full'; Folios 3. 4, 'thus at full'; Capell. 'at the 
 full ' : Keightle.v. ' at full length ' ; Marshall, ' told at full.' 
 
 II. ii. 15. 'Edmund' ; Folio i reads, ' Edmond' ; Folios 2, 3. 4, 
 ' Edward.' 
 
 II. ii. 27. 'Richard zcas murder d traitorously' ; Folio i reads 
 ' Richard . . . traiterously ' ; Folios 2, 3. 4, ' King Richard 
 
 . . . traiterously ' ; Pope, ' King Richard trait'rously was 
 murtlier'd' ; D\Te, ' zcas liaruiless Richard murdered traitorously.' 
 
 II. ii. 28. ' told tlie truth ' ; Hanmer reads ' told the very truth ' ; 
 Capell, 'surely told the truth'; Keightley, 'told the truth in 
 this': Marshall, 'the Duke of York hath told the truth.' 
 
 II. ii. 35. ' Philip t^e' Hanmer's correction: Folio i, 'Philip'; 
 Folios 2, 3, 4. 'Philip'; Collier MS., ' Philippa.' 
 
 II. ii. 42. ' WJio kept him in captivity till he died'; "it was 
 really his son-in-law. Lord Grey of Ruthvyn. and not Edmund 
 Mortimer, whom, according to Hall, Owen Glendower kept in 
 captivity till he died" (Malone). 
 
 II. ii. 55. 'York claims'; Pope, 'York here claims'; Capell. 
 'hut York claims'; Dyce, ' zchilc York claims'; Hudson, 'York 
 doth claim.' 
 
 II. iii. 3. 'sins': Theobald's emendation of ' sinnc; Folios i, 2; 
 ' sin * Folio 3. 
 
 II. iii. 14. ' ]]'elcome is banishment; welcome were my death'; 
 Pope reads ' Welcome is exile,' etc. ; Anon, conjecture, ' JVelcome 
 is banishment; welcomcr my death'; Wordsworth. ' Welcome is 
 banishment: welcome were death': ' banishment '-'is probably to 
 be considered a dissyllable. 
 
 II. iii. 20. ' / beseech ' ; Hanmer. ' Beseech.' 
 
 II. iii. 21. 'ease,' the reading of Folios i. 4; Folios 2, 3. 
 ' cease.' 
 
 II. iii. 29. 'Should be to be protected like a child': Collier MS. 
 reads 'Should be protected like a child by peers.' 'Should be to 
 be' ="' should need to be.' 
 
 II. iii. 30. 'God and King Henry govern England's realm'; 
 omitted by Capell ; ' Realm,' the reading of Folios ; Steevens 
 (Johnson conj.), 'helm'; Dyce and Staunton, 'helm!' In the 
 next line Keightley proposed ' helm ' for ' realm.' 
 
 II. iii. 2,2. Collier MS. inserts after 1. Z^, ' To think I fain 
 would keep it makes me laugh.' 
 
 146
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 IT. iii. 35. 'willingly' ; Pope, 'willing' Jrom Quartos). 
 
 II. iii. 46. 'youngest,' so Folios i, 2; Folios 3. 4, 'younger'; 
 Singer (Anon conj. MS.), 'strongest'; Collier MS., 'proudest'; 
 Staunton, 'haughtiest' ; Kinnear, 'highest.' Perhaps 'her' may 
 be taken to refer to ' pride.' 
 
 II. iii. 55. 'defend'; Pope, 'guard'; Vaughan, 'fend.' 
 
 II. iii. 92. 'blow'; Warburton adds, from Quartos, 'as Bevis 
 of Southampton fell upon Ascapart.' 
 
 II. iii. 100. 'Go, take hence that traitor from our sight'; Han- 
 mer, 'Go, and take hence,' etc.; perhaps 'traitor' should be read 
 as a trisyllable. 
 
 II. iv. 3. 'Barren winter, zvith his wrathful nipping cold'; 
 Pope, ' The barren zvinter, with his nipping cold'; Capell, 'Bare 
 winter with his wrathful nipping cold'; Mitford, 'The barren 
 winter zvith his wrathful cold.' 
 
 II. iv. 5. 'ten'; Steevens, ' 'Tis ten o'clock'; Lettsom, from 
 Quartos, ''Tis almost ten.' 
 
 II. iv. 12. 'laughing' ; so Folios i; Folios 2, 3, 4, 'still laugh- 
 ing'; Hudson (Lettsom conj.) 'and laughing.' 
 
 II. iv. 25. 'thine enemies'; Folio 4, 'their enemies'; Rowe, 
 ' our enemies.' 
 
 II. iv. 31. 'with papers on my back'; "criminals undergoing 
 punishment usually wore papers on their backs containing their 
 offence." 
 
 II. iv. 87. 'gone toof; so Folios 2, 3, 4; Folio i, 'gone tof 
 Collier MS., 'gone so?' 
 
 III. I. 78. 'as is the ravenous zvolf; Rowe's correction of 
 Folios, ' as is . . . Wolues'; Malone, 'as are . . . 
 zvolves'; Vaughan, 'as the ravenous zvolves.' 
 
 III. i. 98. ' Well, Suffolk, thou shall not see me blush ' ; the 
 reading of Folio i; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' JVell, Suffolk, yet thou,' etc. ; 
 Malone, from Quartos, ' JVell, Suffolk's duke, thou,' etc. ; Dyce 
 (Walker conj.), ' Well, Suffolk, zvell, thou,' etc. 
 
 III. i. 133. ' easy' ; Cc 
 omitted by Wordsworth. 
 
 III. i. 151. 'But mine is,' etc.; Hudson (Lettsom conj.), from 
 Quartos, reads 'But I am,' etc.; ' mine' = ' my death.' 
 
 III. i. 211. 'strays'; Theobald (adopting the conj. Thirlby), 
 ' strives ' ; Vaughan ' strains.' 
 
 III. i. 223. 'Free loras'; Hanmer, 'See, lords'; Dyce (Collier 
 MS.), 'Fair lords'; Cambridge editors suggest 'My lords.' 
 
 III. i. 280. ' spoke ' ; so Folios ; Hanmer, ' spoken.' 
 
 147
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 III. i. 348. 'nourish' (monos3'llabic) =' nurse ' (verb); (Col- 
 lier MS. reads 'march'). 
 
 III. i. 357. 'John Cade of Ashford'; Seymour adds, 'with a 
 Jicadlong crezv.' 
 
 MI. ii. 26. 'Nell'; Theobald, 'Well'; Capell. 'Meg'; Malone. 
 'Margaret' ; Clark MS., ' zvell.' The playwright here, as in other 
 places* {cp. below, lines 79, 100, 120), seems, by some strange 
 error, to have thought of Eleanor instead of Margaret. 
 
 III. ii. 70. 'ay me'; Pope reads 'ah me.' 
 
 III. ii. 78. Lines 78 to 121 struck out in Collier MS. 
 
 III. ii. 79. 'Eleanor' ; cp. supra, Note, III. ii. 26. 
 
 III. ii. 80. 'Statue and zvorship it'; Keightley correction of 
 Folios, 'Statue, and worship it'; Rowe reads 'statue, and do 
 zvorship to it'; Capell, 'statue tJien, and zvorship it': Dyce. 
 ' statua and zvorship it.' 
 
 III. ii. 88. 'gentle'; Singer (Anon. MS. conj. and Collier MS.) 
 reads 'ungentle' destroying the whole point of the passage. 
 
 III. ii. 89. 'he' i.e. /Eolus, the God of the winds. 
 
 III. ii. 100, 120. 'Eleanor' cp. supra, Note, III. ii. 26. 
 
 III. ii. 147. ' eartJiy ' ; the reading of Folio i ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 ' eartJily.' 
 
 III. ii. 152. 'For seeing him I see my life in death'; Folio 4 
 reads ' For . . . life is Death ' ; Johnson, ' For . . . death 
 in life'; Capell, 'And . . . death in life'; Rann, 'And 
 . . . life in death'; Vaughan, 'So . . . myself in death.' 
 
 III. ii. 163. 'being all descended,' i.e. "the blood being." 
 
 III. ii. 182. 'And botJi of you zvere vozv'd Duke Humphrey's 
 foes ' ; the reading of Folio i ; Folio 2, ' zvere . . . death ' ; 
 Folios 3, 4, ' have . . . death ' ; Capell first suggested true 
 reading. 
 
 III. ii. 192. ' zvas dead'; Vaughan. 'is dead,' or ' zvas deaded.' 
 or ' was ended.' 
 
 III. ii. 244. ' Eord Suffolk ' ; the reading of Folios ; Malone 
 reads, from Quartos, ' false Suffolk.' 
 
 III. ii. 262. 'harmful'; Folios 2, 3, 4, read 'harmless.' 
 
 III. ii. 308. 'enemy'; Capell (from Quartos), 'enemies.' 
 
 III. ii. 322. 'daintiest that'; Theobald, 'daintiest meat'; Han- 
 mer (from Quartos), 'daintiest thing'; Vaughan, 'daintiest cate.' 
 
 III. ii. 344-5. ' That thou niightest think' etc. '* That by the 
 impression of my kiss forever remaining on thy hand, thou might- 
 est think of those lips through which a thousand sighs will be 
 breathed for thee" (Johnson). 
 
 148
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Notes 
 
 HI. ii. 359. ' ///r;/rr.' away from the land; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 ' hence.' 
 
 III. ii. 366. ' no joy ' ; Singer (Collier MS.). ' to joy ' ; ' nought,' 
 Folios 3, 4, 'ought/ 
 
 III. iii. 4. ' and feel no pain ' ; Theobald reads, from Quartos. 
 ' but one whole year.' 
 
 III. iii. 21-2. 
 
 ' O heat azvay the busy meddling fiend 
 That lays strong siege unto this 
 zi'rctch's soul.' 
 
 The annexed cut, from Douce's Illus- 
 trations of Shakespeare, depicts the 
 angels of good and evil contending for 
 a departing soul. 
 
 IV. i. 21, 22. ' The lives of those,' 
 etc., so Folios, with the exception of 
 the note of exclamation, added by 
 Grant White ; Knight prints a note of 
 interrogation ; Nicholson, ' Shall the 
 lives . . . sumf' Marshall, 'The 
 liz'cs . . . shall they Be conterpoiscd,' etc. 
 
 IV. i. 48. Omitted in Folios: restored 
 Quartos). 
 
 IV. i. 50. In Folios this line is made part of preceding speech, 
 with ' lozi'sie' for 'lowly,' restored by Pope (from Quartos). 
 
 IV. i. 70. 'Cap. Ves, Pole. Suf. Pole!' added by Capell from 
 Quartos. 
 
 IV. i. 85. ' mother's bleeding,' Rowe's correction of Folios, 
 'Mother-bleeding.' 
 
 IV. i. 117. ' Gelidus timor occiipat artus,' i.e. "chill fear seizes 
 my limbs"; the reading of Folios 2, 3, 4 ; Folio i reads, 'Pine 
 gelidus'; Theobald, ' Pcene gelidus,' etc {cp. Aineid, vii. 446). 
 
 IV. i. 129. Lloyd, 'Exempt from fear is true nobility.' 
 
 IV. i. 136. ' Brutus' bastard hand ' ; Theobald proposed ' das- 
 tard,' but afterwards withdrew his suggestion ; Servilia, the 
 mother of Brutus, became, it is true, the mistress of Julius Caesar, 
 but not until after the birth of Brutus. 
 
 IV. i. 137, 138. 'savage islanders Pompcy th.c Great'; the 
 the story of Pompey's death is given in Plutarch; the murderers 
 were Achillas, an Egyptian, and Septimius, who had served under 
 him ; perhaps they are described as ' islanders,' because the mur- 
 
 by Pope (from 
 
 149
 
 Notes 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 the midst 
 CJwr- 
 
 der was committed at Pelusium, an island-like spot in 
 of morasses at the easternmost mouth of the Nile. 
 
 IV. ii. 86. 'Chatham' ; Rowe's emendation; Folio i. 
 tarn ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, ' Chattam/ 
 etc. 
 
 IV. ii. 133. 'Adam was a 
 gardener/ Cp. illustration. 
 
 IV. iii. 9. ' a hundred lack- 
 ing one'; Malone, 'a hundred 
 lacking one a week/ from 
 Quartos. In the reign of Eliza- 
 beth butchers were not allowed 
 to sell flesh-meat in Lent ; by 
 special licenses, however, a 
 lim.ited number of beasts might 
 be killed each week. 
 
 IV. iv. 22. Pope, 'Lament- 
 ing still and mourning Suf- 
 folk's death?' 
 
 IV. iv. 43. 'Lord Say, the 
 traitors hate thee'; Folio i, 
 * hateth ' : Capell. ' traitor rebel 
 hateth ' ; Marshall, ' the traitor Jack Cade hateth thee.' 
 
 IV. vii. 36. 'thou hast caused printing to he used': printing 
 was not really introduced into England until twenty years later. 
 
 IV. vii. 62, 6^. Caesar says in Book V. of the " Commentaries." 
 'Ex his omnibus sunt humanissimi qui Cantium incolunt,' which 
 Golding rendered (1590), 'Of all the inhabitants of this isle, the 
 civilest are the Kentish folke.' 
 
 IV. vii. 64. 'because full'; Hanmer reads 'beauteous, full'; 
 Vaughan. ' bounteous, full,' etc. 
 
 IV. vii. 72. 'But to maintain' (Johnson; Rann) ; 'Kent to 
 
 From a XlVth century sculpture at 
 Rouen. 
 
 Steevens, ' Bent to 
 
 m. 
 
 Malone, 
 
 Folio I 
 zi'ith a 
 
 Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 hatchet,' a sin- 
 
 VI. / the reading of Folios; 
 'Kent to m.,' etc. 
 
 IV. vii. 92. ' The help of hatchet,' so 
 'the help of a hatchet'; Farmer, 'pap 
 gularly happy emendation. 
 
 IV. vii. 113. 'Sir James Cromer'; it was 
 whom Cade beheaded. 
 
 IV. viii. 13. ' rebel ' ; Singer's emendation 
 Anon MS.) of Folios, 'rabble'; Vaughan, 'ribald.' 
 
 IV. ix. 26. 'Of gallowglasses and stout kernes'; Hanmer 
 
 Sir William Cromer 
 (Collier MS. and 
 
 150
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 Notes 
 
 reads, ' Of dcsp'rate gall ow glasses' etc 
 etc. ; Dyce, ' Of savage g.' etc. ; ' stout 
 ' kernes' ; 
 
 IV. ix. 
 
 IV. ix. 
 Folio 2, 
 Walker, ' 
 
 IV. ix. 
 Staunton, 
 ivith him 
 
 Capell. ' Of nimble g.,' 
 Mitford, 'stout Irish '\ 
 Keightley, 'kernes, he'', Vaiighan. 'kernes supplied.' 
 29. 'arms'; Folio i, 'Amies'; Folios 2, 3. 4, 'Armies* 
 2,3. ' calm'd' the reading of Folio 4; Folio i, ' calme*\ 
 ' claimd ' ; Folio 3. ' claim'd ' ; Beckett, ' cramp' d ' ; 
 chased.' 
 
 ■^6. 'I pray thee, Buckingham, go and meet htm*', 
 ' Go, I pray thee, B.' etc. ; Rowe reads, ' go and meet 
 ; Malone, 'to go and meet him'; Steevens (1793), 'go 
 forth and meet him'; Collier (Collier MS.), 'then go and meet 
 him'; Dyce, 'go thou and meet him.' 
 
 IV. X. I, 'Fie on ambition'; so the later Folios; Folio i, 'Am- 
 bitions.' 
 IV. X. 30. ' eat iron like an ostrich.' Cp. illustration. 
 
 From a XVth century illumination. 
 
 IV. X. 46. ' That Alexander Iden, an esquire of Kent' ; Capell, 
 ' 'squir' ; Marshall omits 'an,' following Hall. 
 
 IV. X. 56. 'As for words whose greatness answers words'; 
 Rowe reads, 'As for more zvords' etc.; Mason, 'As for mere 
 words' etc.; Dyce (Anon, conj.), 'But as for words,' etc., etc. 
 
 IV. X. 62. 'God'; Malone's correction (from Quartos) of 
 ' lone ' of the Folios. 
 
 IV. X, 84. 'And as J thrust thy body in with my sword' ; Dyce 
 (Lloyd conj.), omits 'in.' 
 
 V. i. 74. 'Alexander Iden, that's my name'; Capell, 'My name 
 is Alexander Iden, sir'; Hanmer, ' Ev'n Alexander,' etc.; Edd., 
 'Iden, Alexander Iden,' etc.; Keightley, 'Alexander Iden, that's 
 my name, my liege,' etc. 
 
 V. i. 78. 'Iden, kneel down. Rise up a knight'; Hanmer 
 reads, 'Iden kneel down; and rise thou up a knight'; Dyce 
 
 151
 
 Notes 
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 (Lettsom conj.) ' Iden, kneel dozi'ii. Men, rise up a knight'; 
 Vaughan, 'Iden, kneel dozvn; and nozu rise up Sir Alexander/ 
 
 V. i. 95. ' darest ' ; monosyllabic ; Folio i, ' dar'st ' ; Folios 2, 
 3,4,' durst.' 
 
 V. i. 109. ' these ' ; Theobald's correction of ' thee ' of the 
 Folios. 
 
 V. i. 130. ' mistakest' ; so Folios 2. 3, 4; Folio i, 'mistakes' 
 
 V. i. 146. ' fell-liirking ' ; Roderick, ' fell-barking ' ; Hudson 
 (Heath conj.). 'fell-lurching'; Collier (Collier MS.), 'fell- 
 looking ' ; Capell, ' fell lurking.' 
 
 V. i. 170. 'shame'; Dyce (Walker conj.), 'stain.' 
 
 V. i. 211, 'victorious' ; so Folio i; Folios 2, 3, 4, read 'vic- 
 torious noble.' 
 
 V. ii. 28. 'La fin couronne les ociivres'; i.e. 'the end crowns 
 the work.' Folio i reads, ' Corrone les >eumenes ' ; Folios 2, 3, 4, 
 ' Corronne les oevres.' 
 
 V. ii. 42. ' Knit earth and heaven together'; Vaughan adds 'in 
 one blase.' 
 
 V. ii. 66. 'So, lie thou there'; Malone supposes that a line has 
 been omitted here, equivalent to ' Behold the prophecy is come to 
 pass'; Vaughan conj. adds 'fulfilling prophecy.' 
 
 V. ii. 87. ' parts ' ; Hanmer reads ' pow'rs ' ; Warburton, ' party ' ; 
 Collier MS., ' frends'; Dyce (Walker conj.), 'part.' 
 
 V. iii. I. 'of; Collier MS. (from Quartos), 'Old' adopted 
 by Dyce. 
 
 V. ii'. 29. 'faith'; Malone's correction (frorfi Quartos); 
 Folios, ' hand.' 
 
 London Bridge. 
 From an illumination in tlie poems of the Duke of Orleans (Royal MS., 16F2). 
 
 15'
 
 KING HENRY VI. 
 
 The Battle of Tewksbury. 
 From a contemporary MS. preserved in the Public Library at Ghent. 
 
 153
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Explanatory Notes. 
 
 The Explanatory Notes in this edition have been specially selected and 
 adapted, with emendations after the latest and best authorities, from the 
 most eminent Shakespearian scholars and commentators, including Johnson, 
 Malone, Steevens, Singer, Dyce, Hudson, White, Furness, Dovvden, and 
 others. This method, here introduced for the first time, provides the best 
 annotation of Shakespeare ever embraced in a single edition. 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 Scene I. 
 
 58, Anjou and Maine : — The reader will observe that this item 
 does not run the same as it did in the hands of Gloucester. Ma- 
 lone thinks that the words of the instrument could not thus vary 
 while it was passing from the hands of Gloucester to those of the 
 Cardinal. Some have supposed that Gloucester had caught the 
 drift and substance of the document, but the dimness of his eyes 
 prevented his reading with literal exactness. But others regard 
 the discrepancy as due to an oversight on the part of the dramatist. 
 
 75-103. Every line of this speech, except the first, is marked by 
 Malone, as being altered from the Quarto. That the reader may 
 have a specimen of the changes in the Folio, we subjoin the whole 
 speech as it stands in the Quarto : — 
 
 " Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, 
 To you Duke Humphrey must unfold his grief. 
 What ! did my brother Henry toil himself, 
 And waste his subjects, for to conquer France? 
 And did my brother Bedford spend his time. 
 To keep in awe that stout unruly realm ? 
 And have not I and mine uncle Beaufort here 
 Done all we could to keep that land in peace? 
 And are all our labours, then, spent quite in vain ? 
 For Suffolk he, the new-made duke that rules the roost, 
 Hath given away, for our King Henry's queen, 
 The duchies of Anjou and Maine unto her father. 
 
 154
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 Ah lords ! fatal is this marriage, cancelling our states, 
 Reversing monuments of conquer'd France, 
 Undoing all, as none had ne'er been done." 
 
 It will be seen upon comparison, that of twenty-eight lines fifteen 
 were original in the Folio, though the new lines are little more 
 than .an amplification of the old thoughts. 
 
 105. TJiis peroration, etc. : — This speech crowded with so many 
 circumstances of aggravation. 
 
 115. But ivherefore weeps, etc. : — The Salisbury of this play was 
 Richard Neville, second son to Ralph Neville, whom we have 
 met with in Henry IV. as Earl of Westmoreland. Richard was 
 married to Alice, the only child and heir of Thomas Montacute, 
 the Earl of Salisbury who was killed at the siege of Orleans in 
 1428; and thus brought that earldom into the Neville family. His 
 oldest son, Richard, again, was married to Anne, the sister and 
 heir of Henry Beauchamp, Earl of Warwick, and so succeeded to 
 that earldom in 1449. The dramatist, though he rightly makes 
 Warwick the son of Salisbury, attributes to him the acts of Rich- 
 ard Beauchamp, the Earl of Warwick who figures in the preceding 
 play. 
 
 134. costs and charges : — Thus Holinshed : " First, the King 
 had not one penie with hir ; and for the fetching of hir the Mar- 
 quesse of Suffolk demanded a whole fifteenth in open parlement. 
 And also there was delivered for hir the duchie of Anjou, the citie 
 of Mans, and the whole countie of Maine, which countries were 
 the verie stales and backestands to the duchie of Normandie." 
 
 194. York : — This Duke of York married Cicely, daughter to 
 Ralph Neville, Earl of Westmoreland, by Joan, his first wife, who 
 again, was daughter to John of Ghent by Catharine Swynford. 
 Salisbury was the son of Westmoreland by a second wife. Of 
 course therefore York's wife was half-sister to the Earl of Salis- 
 bury. The dramatist here anticipates. York, having been ap- 
 pointed to the regency of France a second time, was forced to give 
 up that place to his rival, Somerset, and accept the government of 
 Ireland instead ; from which latter country he did not return till 
 1450, more than three years after the death of Cardinal Beaufort. 
 
 216. tickle: — So in Spenser's fragment. Of Mutabilitie, vii. 22: — 
 
 " O weake life ! that does leane 
 On thing so tickle as th' unsteady Ayre, 
 Which every howre is chang'd, and altred cleane 
 With every blast that bloweth fowle or faire." 
 
 155
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 234, 235. the fatal brand . . . Calydon : — According to Ovid, 
 the life of Meleager, Prince of Calydon, was made to depend on 
 a certain firebrand; which being thrown into the fire by his mother 
 Althea, he expired in great torments. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 [Duchess.] This Duchess of Gloucester was Eleanor, daugh- 
 ter to Reginald Lord Cobham. The duke had formerly lived on 
 such terms with Jacqueline of Bavaria, that she was commonly 
 supposed to be his wife ; but, as she already had a husband, John 
 Duke of Brabant, from whose claim she could not get a legal re- 
 lease, her union with Gloucester was necessarily broken off. 
 Meanwhile, the duke had been openly living with Eleanor Cob- 
 ham as his mistress, insomuch that in 1423 the principal matrons 
 of London went to the House of Lords with a petition against him 
 for having neglected his lawful wife. 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 51 ct seq. In the Quarto this passage reads thus: — 
 
 " I tell thee, Poole, when thou didst run at tilt, 
 And stol'st away our ladies', hearts in France, 
 I thought King Henry had been like to thee, 
 Or else thou hadst not brought me out of France." 
 
 As Marlowe has been thought to have written this play as printed 
 in the Quarto, it seems but fair to quote a similar passage from 
 his Edzvard II. : — 
 
 " Tell Isabel, the queen, I look'd not thus. 
 When for her sake / ran at tilt in France, 
 And there unhors'd the Duke of Cleremont." 
 
 133-135- Thy cruelty, etc.: — The groundwork of these charges 
 on the duke is thus stated in Holinshed : " The queene, a ladi^ 
 of great wit, and no lesse courage, desirous of honour, and fur 
 nished with the gifts of reason, policie, and wisdome, disdainin.si 
 that hir husband should be ruled rather than rule, first of all 
 excluded the Duke of Glocester from all rule and governance* 
 
 156
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 not prohibiting such as she knew to be his mortal foes to invent 
 and imagine causes and greefs against him and his, insomuch that 
 diverse noblemen conspired against him. Diverse articles were 
 laid against him in open councell, ana especiallie one — That he 
 had caused men, adjudged to die, to be put to other execution 
 than the law of the land assigned." 
 
 143. ten commandments : — This appears to have been a popular 
 phrase for the ten fingers. So in Sclimns, Emperor of the Turks, 
 1594: "I would set a tap abroach and not live in fear of my 
 wife's ten commandments.''' Again, in Westward Hoe, 1607: 
 " Your harpy has set his ten commandments on my back." And 
 in Udal's version of Erasmus's Apothegms : " When Xantippe 
 had pulled awaye her husbandes cope from his backe, even in the 
 open streete, and his familiar compaignons gave him a by warn- 
 ing to avenge suche a naughtie touche or pranke with his tenne 
 commandments.'' 
 
 166-173. I'll tell thee, etc.: — The issue of this deadly feud be- 
 tween York and Somerset is thus related by Holinshed : " But 
 the Duke of Summerset, still maligning the Duke of Yorkes ad- 
 vancement, as he had sought to hinder his dispatch at the first 
 when he was sent over to the regent, likewise now wrought so, 
 that the King revoked the grant made to the Duke of Yorke for 
 enjoieng of that office the terme of other five yeeres, and with 
 helpe of William Marquesse of Suffolke obteined that grant for 
 himselfe. Which malicious deling the Duke of Yorke might so 
 evill beare, that in the end the heate of displeasure burst out into 
 such a flame, as consumed at length not onelie both those two 
 noble personages, but also manie thousands of others." 
 
 191. By these ten hones: — We have just heard a duchess 
 threaten to set her ten commandments in the face of a queen. 
 We have here again a similar vulgar expression. It is, how- 
 ever, a very ancient popular adjuration, and may be found in 
 many old dramatic pieces. So in Jacke Jugler : — 
 
 Jack. Ye. mary, I tell thee Careawaye is my name. 
 Car. And by these tenne hones myne is the same. 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 30. It was believed that spirits raised by incantations remained 
 above ground and answered questions with reluctance. 
 
 157
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 Scene I. 
 
 97-129, Hoiv long hast thou been blind f etc.: — This passage 
 between Gloucester and Simpcox is founded on a story told by 
 Sir Thomas More, substantially as follows: One time, as King 
 Henry VL rode in progress, there came to the town of Saint 
 Alban's a certain beggar, with his wife, and there was walking 
 about the town, begging, saying that he was born blind, and was 
 warned in a dream that he should come out of Berwick, where he 
 had ever dwelt, to seek Saint Alban. When the King was come, 
 and the town full of people, suddenly this blind man, at Saint Al- 
 ban's shrine, had his sight ; and the same was solemnly rung for 
 a miracle, so that nothing else was talked of in all the town. It so 
 happened that Humphrey Duke of Gloucester, a man no less wise 
 than well-learned, called the poor man to him, and looked well 
 upon his eyes, and asked whether he could never see anything in 
 all his life before. When both himself and his wife affirmed 
 fastly " no." then he looked advisedly upon his eyes again, and 
 said, " I believe you say well, for methinketh ye cannot see well 
 yet." " Yes, sir." quoth he ; "I thank God and his holy martyr, 
 I can see now as well as any man." " Ye can? " quoth the duke; 
 "what colour is this gown?" Then anon the beggar told him. 
 "What colour," quoth he, "is this man's gown?" He told him 
 this also, without staying or stumbling, and so of all the colours 
 that could be showed him. i\nd when the duke saw that, he had 
 him set openly in the stocks. 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 [York.] Herford says: "Margaret's chief opponent in the .Sec- 
 ond Part, the Duke of York, also has assigned to him a somewhat 
 more commanding role than in the chronicle. Till near the close 
 he plays a waiting game ; but he plays it with more far-reaching 
 and more unscrupulous policy than his historic prototype. Hol- 
 inshed's York watches the two great obstacles in his path, Glouces- 
 ter and Suffolk, successively ruined without his stir ; the dramatic 
 York is not prevented by Gloucester's warm advocacy of his claims 
 to the French regency from actively ' levelling at his life.' Holin- 
 shed attributes Cade's revolt to incitements of ' those that favoured 
 
 158
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 the Duke of York.' In the play it is York himself who conceives 
 the plan of stirring up in England this * black storm.' At the 
 very moment when he finally threw off hisdisguise and claimed the 
 crown, the York of Holinshed and history was all but check- 
 mated by a resolute move of the party in power. Rashly disband- 
 ing his troops on the King's compliance with his demand for 
 Somerset's arrest, he was himself arrested and sent to the Tower ; 
 and his fate hung in the balance when the news of Edward's 
 armed advance caused his sudden release. The York of the 
 drama suffers a briefer anxiety. His arrest is no sooner proposed 
 than Richard and Edward rush in to bail him, and his * two brave 
 bears,' Warwick and Salisbury, compel the appeal to arms which 
 issues in the victory of Saint Albans." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 I1-13. This sentence fell upon the duchess in November, 1441. 
 Holinshed gives the following account of the matter : " This 
 yeare dame Eleanor Cobham, wife to the said duke, was accused 
 of treason ; for that she by sorcerie and enchantment intended to 
 destroie the King, to the intent to advance hir husband unto the 
 crowne. Upon this she was examined in saint Stephans chappefl 
 before the Bishop of Canterburie, and there convict and judged 
 to doo penance in three open places within the citie of London ; 
 and after that to perpetuall imprisonment in the He of Man, under 
 the keeping of sir John Stanlie knight." As this crime and pun- 
 ishment of the duchess had much to do in bringing about her 
 husband's fall, there was good dramatic reason for setting it in 
 close connection with the latter event, though in fact the two were 
 over five years apart. 
 
 95. / confess treason : — This odd aft'air of Peter and Horner is 
 founded on an incident told by Holinshed. It will be seen that 
 the dramatist innovated upon the story, in making Horner " con- 
 fess treason." "In the same yeare also," (1446) "a certaine ar- 
 mourer was appeached of treason by a servant of his owne. For 
 proofe whereof a daie was given them to fight in Smithfield, inso- 
 much that in conflict the said armourer was overcome and slaine ; 
 but yet by misgoverning of himselfe. For on the morrow, when 
 he should come to the field fresh and fasting, his neighbours came 
 to him, and gave him wine and strong drink in such excessive 
 sort, that he was therewith distempered, and reeled as he went, 
 and so was slaine without guilt. As for the false servant, he lived 
 
 159
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 not long unpunished ; for being convict of felonie in court of 
 assise, he was judged to be hanged, and so was, at Tiburne." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 27-57. The thirty-one lines of this speech are an expansion, but 
 scarcely an improvement, as comparison will show, of twenty- 
 three in the Quarto. 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 Scene I. 
 
 [Queen . . . Suffolk.] In this Act the criminal passion of 
 Margaret and Suffolk blossoms and goes to seed, setting Suffolk 
 near the throne, and thereby at once feeding his pride and chafing 
 the pride of his enemies ; while the losses in France, before rep- 
 presented, are ever and anon recurring as matter of continual 
 twittings and jerks, the rust of former miscarriages thus at the 
 same time keeping the old wounds from healing, and causing the 
 new ones to fester and rankle. As the amiable imbecility of the 
 King invites and smooths the way for the arrogance and over- 
 weening of the Queen and her favourites, this naturally sets the 
 aspiring and far-reaching York upon the policy of hewing away 
 one after another the main supports of the rival house, that so at 
 last he may heave it to the ground, and out of its ruins build up 
 his own. " The character of the King," says Ulrici, " which had 
 become effeminate and unmanly, required, as an organic contrast, 
 a woman who had become masculine and depraved in character. 
 For Henry's disgrace as a deceived husband was the consequence 
 of his own fault in having allowed himself, with the disposition 
 he possessed, to be persuaded to take such a wife. This his first 
 and only active sin — all his later sins are but errors of omission — 
 had accordingly to be more prominently brought forward in order 
 to show how even the smallest germ of evil shoots up like rank 
 weeds and becomes incalculable in the mischief it produces. The 
 Queen reigns in the King's place, and turns bad into its very 
 worst. He, thrust back by her love of dominion, sinks more and 
 more into the mere semblance of a king ; even the open infidelity 
 of his wife no longer rouses him, and thus his peaceful, pious, 
 humble nature— otherwise worthy of the highest praise — acquires 
 
 i6o
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 more and more the appearance of the most sinful weakness of 
 character and want of energy. Accordingly, in Henry's relation 
 to Margaret, we again have, in a new modification, the reflection 
 of the fundamental idea of this Second Part." 
 
 83. What news from France f — Here, again, the dramatist antic- 
 ipates. The parliament at Bury was opened February 10, 1447. 
 On the 28th of the same month Gloucester was found dead. Som- 
 erset's return from France was not till September, 1450; in fact, 
 he did not enter upon the regency till after this Parliament. 
 
 189 et seq. This was most likely suggested by the following 
 from Holinshed : " Ofttimes it hapneth that a man, in quenching 
 of smoke, burneth his fingers in the fire: so the Queene, in cast- 
 ing how to keepe hir husband in honour, and hirselfe in authoritie, 
 in making awaie of this noble man brought that to passe which 
 she had most cause to have feared; which was the deposing of hir 
 husband, and the decaie of the house of Lancaster, which of like- 
 lihood had not chanced, if this duke had lived." 
 
 245. 'Tis York, etc. : — York had more reason for desiring 
 Humphrey's death, because he stood between him and the crown, 
 which he had proposed. to himself in his ambitious views. Thus 
 in the closing lines of this Scene he says : — 
 
 " For Humphrey being dead, as he shall be, 
 And Henry put apart, the next for me." 
 
 355-359- for a minister, etc.: — There is no proof that York was 
 any way privy to the insurrection of Cade, save that it fell out 
 very opportunely for his purpose, and those engaged in it were 
 generally favourable to his claim: for which cause he was natu- 
 rally suspected to have set it on foot ; and that suspicion, ripened 
 into belief,- was no doubt handed down to the dramatist's time in 
 the bundle of "Lancastrian prejudices." This speech of York's, 
 however, makes a capital point in the drama, as it represents him 
 to have been the conscious designer, as in fact he was to a great 
 extent the real occasion of the following events; and it was 
 plainly more dramatic to set him forth as the maker of circum- 
 stances than as merely the user of them. In the Quarto this 
 speech has but twenty-five lines, which are here rather consoli- 
 dated than expanded into fifty-three. 
 
 365. a zvild Morisco : — A dancer in a morris-dance, originally, 
 perhaps, meant to imitate a Moorish dance, and thence named. 
 The bells sufficiently indicate that the English* morris-dancer is 
 intended. It appears from Blount's Glossography, and some of 
 
 161
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART^OF 
 
 our eld writers, that the dance itself was called a morisco. Florio, 
 in the first edition of his Italian Dictionary, defines " IMoresca, a 
 kind of morice or antique dance, after the Moorish or Ethiopian 
 fashion." 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 14. Away! be gone: — The common belief of the people, and the 
 no less common report of the chroniclers was, that the Duke of 
 Gloucester was murdered, by procurement of the Queen, Suffolk, 
 and Somerset: which w^ould doubtless have justified the dram- 
 atist's representation, even if he had known the truth to be other- 
 wise ; for the very dact of such a belief proves, in some sort, that 
 the thing believed was consonant to the spirit of the time. The 
 strongest argument in the question is derived from Whethamstede, 
 Abbot of Saint Alban's, and is strongly stated by Lingard, thus : 
 " That writer, who had received many benefits from the duke, was 
 much attached to his memory, which he vindicates on all occa- 
 sions, and equally prejudiced against his enemies, whom he calls 
 canes, scorpiones, impii susurroncs. And yet, though he wrote 
 when the royal party was humbled in the dust, and he had of 
 course nothing to fear from their resentment, he repeatedly as- 
 serts that the duke fell ill immediately after his arrest, and died 
 of his illness." The duke w^as arrested on the second day of the 
 Parliament at Bury, and seventeen days after was found dead in 
 his bed. Holinshed gives him the noblest charactei 
 
 83. azvkivard zciud: — The same uncommon epithet is applied to 
 the wand by Marlowe in his Edzvard 1 1. : " With azvkzvard zi'inds, 
 and with sore tempests driven." And by Drayton, Epistle from 
 Richard II. to Queen Isabcll: — 
 
 " And undertook to travaile dangerous waies. 
 Driven by azvkzvard zvinds and boisterous seas." 
 
 t6i. Ghost was often used thus for corpse by the old writers. 
 In a later passage of the original play the word ghost is again 
 used as in the present instance. Young Clifford, addressing him- 
 self to his father's dead body, says : — 
 
 " A dismal sight ! see where he breathless lies, 
 All smear'd and welter'd in his lukewarm blood ! 
 Sweet father, to thy murder' d ghost I swear." 
 
 297. The world, etc.: — The storm of the commons aorainst Suf- 
 folk did not burst forth till January, 1450, and was immediately 
 
 i53
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 occasioned by the disasters in France under Somerset's regency. 
 As usual in such cases, many terrible crimes were charged upon 
 Suffolk, but none of them were proved; and he fell at last by vio- 
 lence, not by law. Holinshed has the following account of his 
 fall : " The Queene, which intirely loved the duke, doubting some 
 commotion and trouble to arise, if he were let go unpunished, 
 caused him for a colour to be committed to the Tower ; where he 
 remained not past a moneth, but was againe delivered and re- 
 stored to the Kings favour, as much as ever he was before. This 
 dooing so much displeased the people, that if politike provision 
 had not beene. great mischeefe had immediately insued. When 
 the King perceived that there was no remedy to appease the peo- 
 ples furie by anie colourable waies, shortlie to pacific so long an 
 hatred he banished the Duke of Suffolke for tearme of five yeares, 
 meaning by this exile to appease the malice of the people for the 
 time, and after to revoke him home againe." 
 
 310. The old superstition touching the mandrake is thus ex- 
 posed by Sir Thomas Browne in his Vulgar and Common Errors, 
 ii. 6: "The third affirmeth the roots of mandrakes do make a 
 noise, or give a shriek, upon eradication ; which is indeed ridicu- 
 lous, and false below confute; arising, perhaps, from a small" and 
 stridulous noise, which, being firmly rooted, it maketh upon divul- 
 sion of parts. The last concerneth the danger ensuing; that there 
 follows an hazard of life to them that pull it up ; that some evil 
 fate pursues them, and they live not long after." 
 
 ^2,2,- You hade me ban : — This inconsistency is very common in 
 real life. Those who are v€xed to impatience, are angry to see 
 others less disturbed than themselves ; but when others begin to 
 rave, they immediately see in them what they could not find in 
 themselves, the deformity and folly of useless raee. 
 
 375. zvhispcrs to his pillow: — So in Macbeth, V. i. : "Infected 
 minds to their deaf pillows will discharge their secrets." The 
 passage' stands thus in the Quarto: — 
 
 " Sometimes he calls upon Duke Humphrey's ghost, 
 And whispers to his pillow as to him." 
 
 The Cardinal died at his palace of Wolvesey, April it, 1447, which 
 was six weeks after the death of Gloucester. He was eighty years 
 of age. The chroniclers give him a very bad character, but it is 
 remarkable that they do not snecify facts to bear out their charges. 
 Lingard vindicates him : " That he expired in the agonies of 
 despair, is a fiction which we owe to the imagination of Shake- 
 
 163
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 speare : from an eye-witness we learn that during a lingering 
 illness he devcfted most of his time to religious exercises. Ac- 
 cording to the provisions of his will, his wealth was chiefly dis- 
 tributed in charitable donations." 
 
 381 et seq. " Why do I lament a circumstance of which the 
 impression will pass away in an hour ; while I neglect to think on 
 the loss of Suffolk, my affection for whom no time will efface? " 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 1-4. This scene was evidenly founded, in part, on a passage in 
 Hall : " Doctor John, Baker, his privy counsellor and his chap- 
 lain, wrote that he, lying on his death bed, said these words: 
 'Why should I die, having so many riches? If the whole realm 
 would save my life, I am able either by policy to get it, or by 
 riches to buy it. Fie ! will not death be hired, nor will money do 
 nothing? When my nephew of Bedford died, I thought myself 
 half up the wheel ; but when I saw my other nephew of Gloucester 
 deceased, I thought myself able to be equal with kings, and so 
 thought to increase my treasure in hope to have worn a triple 
 crown. But I see now the world faileth me, and so I am de- 
 ceived; praying you all to pray for me!'" Lingard discredits 
 this story. 
 
 SS. This Scene may be compared v/ith the following from The 
 First Part of the Contention, Scene xi. : — 
 
 Enter King and Salsbury, and then the ciivtaines he drazvne, and 
 the Cardinall is discovered in Jiis bed, raving and staring as 
 if he were madde. 
 
 Car. Oh death, if thou wilt let me live but one whole yeare, 
 
 He give thee as much gold as will purchase such another 
 iland. 
 King. Oh see my Lord of Salsbury how he is troubled. 
 
 Lord Cardinall, remember Christ must save thy soule. 
 Car. Why died he not in his bed? 
 
 What would you have me to do then? 
 
 Can I make men live whether the}'- will or no? 
 
 Sirra, go fetch me the strong poison which the Pothicary 
 sent me. 
 
 Oh see where Duke Humphreys ghoast doth stand, 
 
 And stares me in the face. Looke, looke, coame downe his haire. 
 
 So now hees gone againe : Oh, oh, oh. 
 
 164
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 Sal. See how the panges of death doth gripe his heart. 
 King. Lord Cardinall, if thou diest assured of heavenly bHsse, 
 
 Hold up thy hand and make some signe to us. 
 
 [The Cardinall dies. 
 
 Oh see he dies, and makes no signe at all. 
 
 Oh God forgive his soule. 
 Sal. So bad an ende did never none behold; 
 
 But as his death, so was his life in all. 
 King. Forbeare to iudge, good Salsbury forbeare, 
 
 For God will iudge us all. 
 
 Go take him hence, and see his funerals be performde. 
 
 [Exet omnes. 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 50-52. Suffolk's boast of his own blood was hardly warranted 
 by his origin. On his mother's side he was distantly related to 
 Henry VI., but not through the Lancastrian race. If the drama- 
 tist had known his pedigree, which was humble, he would not 
 have failed to make some of his adversaries reproach him with it. 
 
 117. Gelidus timor occupat artus: — The source of this quotation 
 has not been discovered. It may be a corruption of Virgil's 
 " Snbitns tremor occupat artus" (^n., vii. 446), or possibly a 
 modification of Ovid, (Met., iii. 40). 
 
 142. his head and lifeless body: — The fate of Suffolk is des- 
 patched in few words by the chroniclers. Thus Holinshed, fol- 
 'lowing Hall : " But Gods justice would not that so ungracious a 
 person should so escape : for when he shipped in Suffolke, intend- 
 ing to transport himselfe over into France, he was incountered 
 with a ship of warre, appertaining to the Duke of Excester, con- 
 stable of the Tower of London, called the Nicholas of the Tower. 
 The capteine of that barke with small fight entered into the dukes 
 ship, and, perceiving his person present, brought him to Dover 
 road, and there on the one side of a cocke bote caused his head 
 to be striken off, and left his bodie with the head lieng there on 
 the sands. Which corps, being there found by a chapleine of his, 
 was conveied to Wingfield college in Suffolke, and there buried." 
 His death occurred in May, 1450. 
 
 165
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 34. a cade of herrings : — Tom Nash speaks of having weighed 
 one of Gabriel Harvey's books against a cade of herrings, and 
 ludicrously says, " That the rebel Jack Cade was the first that de- 
 vised to put red herrings in cades, and from him they have their 
 name." Cade, however, is derived from cadns. Latin, a cask. 
 A cade was a cask for containing probably six hundred herring. 
 Cade, with more learning than should naturally belong to his 
 character, alludes to his name as from cado, to fall. 
 
 66. three-hooped pot, etc, : — These drinking vessels of our an- 
 cestors were of wood. Nash, in his Pierce Pennilesse, says : " I 
 believe hoopes in quart pots were invented to that end, that every 
 man should take his hoope, and no more." 
 
 y2, 7S- there shall be no money : — " To mend the world by ban- 
 ishing money," says Johnson, "is an old contrivance of those who 
 did not consider that the quarrels and mischiefs which arise from 
 money, as the signs or tickets of riches, must, if money v/ere to 
 cease, arise from riches themselves, and could never be at an end 
 till every man were contented with his own share of the goods 
 of life." 
 
 99. on the top of letters: — That is, on the top of Letters Missive 
 and such like public acts. So in the old anonymous play of King 
 Henry V., the Archbishop of Bruges says : " I beseech your 
 grace to deliver me your safe conduct, under your broad seal 
 Emanuel." The king answers : " Deliver him safe conduct under 
 our broad seal Emanuel." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 12. [b7-igandine.] So Holinshed: "Jack Cade, upon his vic- 
 torie against the Staffords, apparelled himselfe in sir Humfries 
 brigandine, set full of gilt nailes, and so in some glorie returned 
 againe toward London." 
 
 Scene IV. 
 
 28. Jack Cade proclaims himself Lord Mortimer: — Knight ob- 
 serves that "the following curious entry is found in the Issu? 
 Roll, 29th Henry VL : ' To Alexander Eden, Sheriff of Kent, and 
 to divers* other persons of the same county. In money paid to 
 them, viz., by the hands of Gervase Clifton, lOoL, and by John 
 Scynder, 166/. \^s. 4d., in part payment of 1000 marks, which the 
 
 166
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 Lord the King commanded to be paid to the same Alexander and 
 others, as well for taking John Cade, an Irishman, calling him- 
 self John Mortymer; a great rebel, enemy, and traitor to the King, 
 as also for conducting the person of John Cade to the Council 
 of the King, after proclamation thereof made in London, to be 
 had of his gift for their pains in the matter aforesaid. By writ 
 of privy seal amongst the mandates of this term (Easter), 266/. 
 
 Scene VI. 
 
 [Jack Cade and the rest.] In Holinshed, Jack Cade and his 
 followers do not appear at all as the crazy Calibans whom the 
 dramatist depicts. The chief of their grievances, in fact, was that 
 the King alienated the crown revenues and lived on the taxes; 
 and, moreover, they complained of abuses of all sorts in the exe- 
 cution of the laws and the raising of revenue. The third article 
 of their memorial stands in striking contrast to their action in the 
 play; for it points out that nobles of royal blood (probably mean- 
 ing York) are excluded from the King's " dailie presence," while 
 he gives advancement to " other meane persons of lower nature," 
 who close the King's ears to the complaints of the country, and 
 distribute favours, not according to law, but for gifts and bribes. 
 Moreover, they complain of interferences with freedom of elec- 
 tion, and, in short, express themselves quite temperately and con- 
 stitutionally. Finally, in more than one passage of the com- 
 plaint, they give utterance to a thoroughly English and patriotic 
 resentment of the loss of Normandy, Gascony, Aquitaine, Anjou, 
 and Maine. 
 
 5,6. treason . . . Mortimer: — Holinshed says: "He also 
 put to execution in Southwarke diverse persons, some for break- 
 ing this ordinance, and other being his old acquaintance, lest they 
 should bewray his base linage, disparaging him for his usurped 
 name of Mortimer." 
 
 15. set London bridge on iire\ — At that time London bridge 
 was of wood, and the houses upon it were actually burnt in this 
 rebellion. Hall says " he entered London, and cut the ropes of 
 the drawbridge." 
 
 Scene VII. 
 
 23-49. A comparison of this speech as it is in the Quarto will 
 show that it gained nothing in humour by the revisal : " Come 
 
 167
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 hither, thou Say, thou George [serge], thou buckram lord, what 
 answer canst thou make unto my mightiness, for delivering up 
 the towns in France to monsieur Bus-mine-cue, the dolphin of 
 France? And, more than so, thou hast most traitorously erected 
 a grammar-school, to infect the youth of the realm ; and against 
 the King's crown and dignity thou hast built up a paper-mill: 
 nay, it will be said to thy face, that thou keep'st men in thy house 
 that daily read of books with red letters, and talk of a noun and 
 verb, and such abominable words as no Christian ear is able to 
 endure it. And, besides all this, thou hast appointed certain 
 justices of the peace in every shire, to hang honest men that 
 steal for their living; and because they could not read, thou hast 
 hung them up, only for which cause they were most worthy to 
 live." 
 
 107-115. The following is Holinshed's account of these doings: 
 " After that, he entered into London, cut the ropes of the draw- 
 bridge, and strooke his sword on London stone, saieng, ' Now is 
 Mortimer lord of this citie.' And, after a glosing declaration 
 made to the maior touching the cause of his thither comming, 
 he departed againe into Southwarke, and upon the third dale of 
 Julie he caused sir James Fines, Lord Saie, and treasurer of Eng- 
 land, to be brought to the Guildhall, and there to be arreigned ; 
 who, being before the Kings justices put to answer, desired to be 
 tried by his peeres, for the longer delaie of his life. The capteine, 
 perceiving his dilatorie plee, by force tooke him from the officers, 
 and brought him to the standard in Cheape, and there caused his 
 head to be striken off, and pitched it upon an high pole, which was 
 openlie borne before him through the streets. And, not content 
 herewith, he went to Mile-end, and there apprehended sir James 
 Cromer, then sheriffe of Kent, and sonne-in-law to the said Lord 
 Saie, causing him likewise to be beheaded, and his head to be 
 fixed on a pole. And with these two heads this bloudie wretch 
 entred into the citie againe, and as it were in spite caused them 
 in everie street to kisse together, to the great detestation of all 
 the beholders." 
 
 Scene IX. 
 
 26. gallozv glasses . . . kernes : — " The Galloglasse," as stated 
 in Stanihurst's Description of Ireland, " useth a kind of pollax 
 for his weapon. These men are grim of countenance, tall of 
 stature, big of limme, lusty of body, wel and strongly timbered. 
 
 168
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 The kerne is an ordinary foot-soldier, using for weapon his sword 
 and target, and sometimes his piece, being commonly good mark- 
 men.'' 
 
 Scene X. 
 
 90. The dramatist in this passage has wandered from the line 
 of historical fact, w^ith a view, no doubt, to relieve his scenes of 
 strife and hatred with a passage of rural quiet and unambitious 
 comfort. Iden had in fact just been appointed sheriff of Kent, 
 and was in pursuit of Cade, having left home for that very pur- 
 pose. The matter, however, is thus given by Holinshed : "A 
 gentleman of Kent, named Alexander Eden, awaited so his time, 
 that he tooke the said Cade in a garden in Sussex; so that there 
 he was slain at Hothfield, and brought to London in a cart, where 
 he was quartered, his head set on London bridge, and his quarters 
 sent to diverse places to be set up in the shire of Kent." Cade's 
 flight occurred on the 9th of July, 1450, and his death but two 
 days after. 
 * 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 Scene I. 
 
 41. York's arrival from Ireland was in September, a few weeks 
 after Cade's death. Proceeding to London with a retinue of four 
 thousand men, he wrung from the King a promise that he would 
 call a Parliament, and then retired to one of his castles. Upon 
 the return of Somerset from France a few days later, the old en- 
 mity between them revived with greater fierceness than ever. The 
 next year York withdrew into Wales, and there gathered an army 
 of ten thousand men ; and when the King went against him with a 
 much larger force, he turned aside and passed on into Kent, and 
 encamped himself near Dartford. From thence he sent word to 
 the King that his coming was but to remove certain evil counsel- 
 lors, especially Somerset, and promising to dissolve his army, if 
 that nobleman were committed to prison, and held to answer in 
 open Parliament whatever charges might be laid against him. 
 The issue of the negotiation thereupon is thus stated by Holin- 
 shed: "After all this adoo. it was agreed upon by advise, for 
 the avoiding of bloudshed, and pacifieng of the duke and his peo- 
 ple, that the Duke of Summerset was committed to ward, as some 
 
 169
 
 Notes THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 say, or else commanded to keepe himselfe privie in his owne 
 house for a time." 
 
 122. [Enter Edzuard and Richard.] At this time, 1455, Ed- 
 ward, York's oldest son, was but ten years old. However, Holin- 
 shed relates, that " whilest the councell treated of saving or des- 
 patching the Duke of Yorke, a rumour sprang through London, 
 that Edward Earle of March, sonne and heire-apparent to the 
 said duke, with a great armie of Marchmen was comming toward 
 London ; which tidings sore appalled the Queene and the whole 
 councell." The issue of this trouble was, that "the councell set 
 the Duke of Yorke at libertie, and permitted him to go to his 
 castell of Wigmore, in the marches of Wales, by whose absence 
 the Duke of Summerset rose in such high favour, both with the 
 King and Queene, that his voice onelie ruled, and his voice alone 
 was heard." 
 
 131. Bedlam: — This " hospitall for distracted people," was 
 founded, according to Stowe, by Simon Fitz-Mary, one of the 
 sherirts of London, in the year 1246. It was called *' The Hos- 
 pital of St. Mary of Bethlehem " ; which latter term was corrupted 
 into Bedlam. In this part of the Scene, the dramatist, in order 
 to come at once upon the battle of Saint Alban's, overleaps a 
 period of three years, from March, 1452, to the spring of 1455, 
 during which time the Queen gave birth to a son, who was named 
 Edward, and, the King having fallen into a state of bodily and 
 mental imbecility, York regained the ascendancy and became pro- 
 tector, and Somerset was committed to the Tower, but, upon the 
 King's recovery not long after, was released ; whereupon York 
 withdrew into Wales, and gathered the army which fought on his 
 side in the ensuing battle. 
 
 134, 135. let liim to the Tozver, etc. : — It was Somerset, not Clif- 
 ford, that gave this advice. 
 
 157, 158. Hence, heap of wrath, etc.: — In the stage direction of 
 the Quarto we have, " Enter the Duke of York's sons, Edward 
 the Earl of March and crook-hack Richard, at the one door, with 
 Drum and Soldiers." The draniatist here anticipates by many 
 years; for as York's oldest son was at this time but thirteen, and 
 as there were two others, Edmund and George, between him and 
 Richard, of course the latter could have had no part in these 
 transactions. A similar anticipation touching Prince Henry 
 occurs near the close of Richard II. "This thing," says Hudson, 
 " is so in keeping with Shakespeare's method of art, that it may 
 go far towards inferring his authorship of the original play." 
 
 170
 
 KING HENRY VI. Notes 
 
 Scene II. 
 
 28. [Clifford falls.] The author, in making CHfford fall by 
 the hand of York, has departed from the truth of history. This 
 circumstance, however, serves to prepare the reader or spectator 
 for the vengeance afterwards taken by Clifford's son on York and 
 Rutland. At the beginning of Part III. the dramatist represents 
 Clifford's death as it really happened : — 
 
 " Lord Clifford, and lord Stafford, all a-breast. 
 Charged our main battle's front, and breaking in 
 Were by the swords of common soldiers slain." 
 
 69. Hath made the zv{:::ard famous: — Referring to the predic- 
 tion of the Spirit in I. iv. 37-39, Holinshed says : " There died 
 under the signe of the castell, Edmund Duke of Summerset, who, 
 as hath been reported, was warned long before to avoid all cas- 
 tels." This Edmund was brother to John Beaufort, the Somer- 
 set of the preceding play, and succeeded to the title at his death 
 in 1432. He was the King's nearest surviving relative, being 
 grandson to John of Ghent, and, after the fall of Suffolk, was 
 looked to and trusted by his royal kinsman as a counterpoise to 
 the ambition of York. He left three sons, Henry, Edmund, and 
 John, who, says the chronicler, " to the extremitie of death tooke 
 part with the line of King Henrie." 
 
 Scene III. 
 
 9. Three times bestrid him : — That is, three times I saw him 
 fallen, and striding over him defended him till he recovered. 
 This act of friendship Shakespeare has frequently mentioned. 
 
 171
 
 THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 Questions on 2 Henry VI 
 
 ACT FIRST. 
 
 1. At the opening of the play, what commission does Suffolk- 
 surrender as completed? 
 
 2. How does this episode resemble that of Guinevere and 
 Lancelot? How is the parallel more strongly suggested in a 
 speech of Margaret in a subsequent scene? 
 
 3. What were the formal conditions of Margaret's marriage? 
 How did these terms affect the nobles? Was their apparent cause 
 for disaffection more than a subterfuge? 
 
 4. What was York's special grievance, and what purposes for 
 the future does he form? 
 
 5. What was Gloucester's dream as told by him in Sc. ii. ? 
 What does it foreshadow? 
 
 6. What did the Duchess Eleanor dream? How is it show:i 
 that her dream has no vital relation to forthcoming events ? 
 
 7. Why is the mystery of Eleanor's machination so soon un- 
 covered ? 
 
 8. What is effected by the first two speeches of Sc. iii.? 
 
 9. Show how far-reaching was the effect of Peter's petition. 
 Compare this dramatic expedient with one in a later play — Much 
 Ado About Nothing — where an apparently irrelevant act of the 
 stupid lower classes has an important bearing upon the lives of 
 the people of the upper world. Suggest the implication here con- 
 tained. 
 
 10. Account for the feelings back of Queen Margaret's speech 
 beginning line 43. 
 
 11. Wliat is foreshadowed in Warwick's speech, line 113? 
 
 12. How does Gloucester decide the dispute as to the regency? 
 What does it portend to himself? 
 
 13. Explain the prophecies of the Spirit in Sc. iv. 
 
 172
 
 KING HENRY VI. Questions 
 
 ACT SECOND. 
 
 14. What things are done in the King's presence in So. i.? 
 
 15. How does he comment on hawking ; on the barons' quarrel ; 
 on the sight of the impostor Simpcox and his detection by 
 Gloucester? 
 
 16. What manner of mind does the King display here? 
 
 17. How does Simpcox's wife show herself and her husband to 
 be impostors before Gloucester undertakes to unmask them? 
 
 18. What is the purpose of this episode as it relates to the King? 
 As it relates to Gloucester ? 
 
 19. If, as concerns Gloucester, the dramatist's purpose is to 
 point the irony of the situation — that is, the triumph over Simp- 
 cox, the sarcastic applause of the peers, and the news of Duchess 
 Eleanor's arrest — are not the elements of the situation rather in- 
 congruous, partaking on the one hand of farce and on the other 
 of tragedy? 
 
 20. What historical blunders does Sc. ii. contain ? What is the 
 assumption contained in York's reply (line 64) IP'c thank you, 
 lords? 
 
 21. Why does Margaret taunt Gloucester after he is deprived 
 of his office? 
 
 22. What was decided according to ancient custom by the trial 
 by combat? To what classes of society was this custom relegated? 
 
 23. What penance was imposed upon Eleanor? Wliy does she 
 long for her prison? Why does she end her dramatic life at this 
 point? 
 
 24. Compare her character with that of Margaret. Wherein 
 were there resemblances? Which was the stronger individuality? 
 
 25. Does either of the women accomplish on the other the re- 
 venge that she threatens? 
 
 ACT THIRD. 
 
 26. What actuates Margaret to her denunciation of Gloucester? 
 
 27. Did Henry fear or love him? 
 
 28. Upon what plea does Henry leave the Parliament after the 
 arrest of Gloucester? 
 
 2g. Show the reasons why each of the enemies of Gloucester 
 desires his death. Who assumes the office of executioner? 
 
 173
 
 Questions THE SECOND PART OF 
 
 30. What motives had the council for sending York into Ireland? 
 
 31. How are his own purposes served by this act? 
 
 32. How is John Cade introduced? How does York describe 
 his personal qualities? What chance resemblance is made use of? 
 
 33. What dramatic effect is secured by informing the spectators 
 cf Gloucester's death before Suffolk comes in to inform the 
 King ? 
 
 34. Whom does Henry suspect of being the murderer? Why 
 docs Margaret try to turn the King's mind to herself by imputing 
 to him neglect? 
 
 35. Indicate the dramatic purpose of the scene of inquisition 
 over the dead body of Gloucester. 
 
 36. To what does the clamour of the commons urge the King? 
 Was Henry's oath deliberate, or the resort of a distracted weak- 
 ling? 
 
 37. What motive holds him to his decree banishing Suffolk? 
 
 38. Which are the more terrible, the imprecations of Suffolk, 
 or those of the Queen? 
 
 39. The love-passages between Suffolk, though unhistorical, yet 
 seem dramatically warranted as a completion of the Queen's 
 character. Comment upon this, 
 
 40. Comment on the Queen's speech in Sc. ii. beginning line 
 9. Does she show traces of a conscience? 
 
 41. What is the purpose in exhibiting the death of the cardinal? 
 
 42. What has been effected dramatically by the long quarrel, 
 begun in "Part I., between Gloucester and the Cardinal? 
 
 43. Does the end of Act III. mark the climax of the trilogy? 
 
 ACT FOURTH. 
 
 ^4. Do you judge that Shakespeare wrote Sc. i. ? Comment 
 upon the undramatic character of the Captain's speeches. Com- 
 pare them with the speeches of the Captain in Twelfth Night. 
 
 45. Remark upon the following aspects of the Cade scenes in 
 this Act: the logic of mobs; their humour; the mutual distrust of 
 their members ; their servile aping of the aristocracy ; their sus- 
 picion of all the attributes of culture ; their cruelty and brutality. 
 
 46. How did the King propose to deal with the insurrectionists? 
 
 47. How are some of the historic facts of the Wat Tyler re- 
 bellion mingled with this later uprising? 
 
 174
 
 KING HENRY VI. Questions 
 
 48. Is it possible to deduce from these scenes somewhat of 
 Shakespeare's political beliefs? What would he think of universal 
 suffrage? 
 
 49. What quality does Cade show in line 107 of Sc. vii.? 
 
 50. What fundamental characteristic of mobs does Sc. viii. ex- 
 hibit? 
 
 51. How are the arrested multitude treated by the King? What 
 premonition does this afford of his attitude towards the impend- 
 ing greater menace of York? 
 
 52. How is Cade finally subdued? Does Shakespeare allow him 
 any traits that enlist the sympathies? 
 
 53. Considering 2 Henry VI , as a unit, how does Act IV. con- 
 tribute to the resolution? 
 
 ACT FIFTH. 
 
 54. With what pretext does York appear with his armed force? 
 What leads him to declare his real purposes? 
 
 55. How does young Richard Plantagenet declare himself in 
 Sc. i.? What does he afterwards become? 
 
 56. Who go over to the cause of York? 
 
 57. What is the result of the battle of Saint Alban's as concerns 
 the cause of York? 
 
 58. To what action is Henry stirred? 
 
 For general questions see* end of 3 Henry VI. 
 
 175
 
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