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 K. HENRY, WARWICK, Lords, &c. 'Q. Mar. Mischance, and sorrow, go along with you! 'Heart's discontent, and sour affliction, 'Be playfellows to keep you company! Q. Mar. Fie, coward woman, and soft-hearted wretch! Hast thou not spirit to curse thine enemies? Suff. A plague upon them! wherefore should I curse them? Would curses kill, as doth the mandrake's groan,' 1 The fabulous accounts of the plant called a mandrake give it an inferior degree of animal life, and relate that, when it is torn from the ground, it groans, and that, this groan being certainly fatal to him that is offering such unwelcome violence, the practice of those who gathered mandrakes was to tie one end of a string to the plant, and the other to a dog, upon whom the fatal groan discharged its malignity. See Bulleine's Bulwarke of Defence against Sicknesse, &c. fol. 1579, p. 41. 6 Should I not curse them. Poison be their drink! Q. Mar. Enough, sweet Suffolk; thou torment'st thyself; * And these dread curses-like the sun 'gainst glass, *Or like an overcharged gun-recoil, * And turn the force of them upon thyself. Suff. You bade me ban, and will you bid me leave? Now, by the ground that I am banished from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, Though standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. 6 Q. Mar. O, let me entreat thee, cease! Give me thy hand, *That I may dew it with my mournful tears; *Nor let the rain of heaven wet this place, * To wash away my woful monuments. O, could this kiss be printed in thy hand; [Kisses his hand. * That thou might'st think upon these by the seal, Through whom a thousand sighs are breathed for thee! 2 'So, get thee gone, that I may know my grief; 1 This is one of the vulgar errors in the natural history of our ancestors. The lizard has no sting, and is quite harmless. 2 That by the impression of my kiss forever remaining on thy hand, thou mightst think on those lips through which a thousand sighs will be breathed for thee. 6 * 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 condemned * Yet now farewell; and farewell life with thee! * I can no more.—Live thou to joy thy life; Enter VAUX. 'Q. Mar. Whither goes Vaux so fast? what news, I pr'ythee? Vaux. To signify unto his majesty, That cardinal Beaufort is at point of death. That makes him gasp, and stare, and catch the air, Blaspheming God, and cursing men on earth. Sometime he talks as if duke Humphrey's ghost 'Were by his side; sometime he calls the king, And whispers to his pillow, as to him, *The secrets of his overcharged soul: ' And I am sent to tell his majesty, That even now he cries aloud for him. 6 Q. Mar. Go, tell this heavy message to the king. [Exit VAUX. Ah me! what is this world? what news are these? But wherefore grieve I at an hour's poor loss, 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 sorrow's? Now, get thee hence. The king, thou know'st, is coming: 'If thou be found by me, thou art but dead. Q. Mar. Away! though parting be a fretful cor'sive,2 'It is applied to a deathful wound. To France, sweet Suffolk; let me hear from thee; For wheresoe'er thou art in this world's globe, I'll have an Iris that shall find thee out. Suff. I go. Q. Mar. And take my heart with thee. Suff. A jewel, locked into the woful'st cask That ever did contain a thing of worth. Even as a splitted bark, so sunder we; fall I to death. This way 1 Where for whereas; as in other places. 2 Corrosive was generally pronounced and most frequently written cor sive in Shakspeare's time. เ SCENE III. London. Cardinal Beaufort's Bed chamber. Enter KING HENRY,' SALISBURY, WARWICK, and others. The Cardinal in bed; Attendants with him. * K. Hen. How fares my lord? Speak, Beaufort, to thy sovereign. Car. If thou be'st death, I'll give thee England's treasure, Enough to purchase such another island, So thou wilt let me live, and feel no pain. *K. Hen. Ah, what a sign it is of evil life, * When death's approach is seen so terrible! *War. Beaufort, it is thy sovereign speaks to thee. *Car. Bring me unto my trial when you will. • Died he not in his bed? Where should he die? Can I make men live, whe'r they will or no?*O! torture me no more; I will confess.Alive again? Then show me where he is; I'll give a thousand pound to look upon him.— *He hath no eyes; the dust hath blinded them.— Comb down his hair; look! look! it stands upright, 'Like lime-twigs set to catch my winged soul!'Give me some drink; and bid the apothecary Bring the strong poison that I bought of him. *K. Hen. O, thou eternal Mover of the heavens, * Look with a gentle eye upon this wretch! *O, beat away the busy, meddling fiend, * That lays strong siege unto this wretch's soul, * And from his bosom purge this black despair! War. See, how the pangs of death do make him grin! *Sal. Disturb him not; let him pass peaceably. 1 The quarto offers this stage direction:-" Enter the King and Salisbury, and then the curtaines be drawne, and the Cardinal is discovered in his bed, raving and staring as if he were mad." This description did not escape Shakspeare, for he has availed himself of it in a preceding speech by Vaux. |