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.

Suf. A charge, lord York, that I will see perform'd.
But now return we to the false duke Humphrey.
Car. No 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'll ship them all for Ireland.

Suf. I'll see it truly done, my lord of York.

[Exeunt all but YORK.

York. Now, York, or never, steel thy fearful thoughts,

And change misdoubt to resolution :

Be that thou hop'st to be; or what thou art

Resign to death, it is not worth th' enjoying:

Let pale-fac'd 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.

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 assur'd

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
Until the golden circuit on my head,
Like to the glorious sun's transparent beams,
Do calm the fury of this mad-bred flaw.9

[9] Flaw, a sudden violent gust of wind. JOHNSON

And, for a minister of my intent,

I have seduc'd a head-strong 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
Oppose himself against a troop of Kernes ;
And fought so long,' till that his thighs with darts
Were almost like a sharp-quill'd porcupine:
And, in the end being rescu'd, I have seen him
Caper upright like a wild Mórisco,'

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.
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 mov'd him to those arms.
Say, that he thrive, (as 'tis great like he will,)
Why, then from Ireland come I with my strength,
And reap the harvest which that rascal sow'd:
For, Humphrey being dead, as he shall be,
And Henry put apart, the next for me.

SCENE II

[Exit.

Bury. A room in the palace. Enter certain Murderers, hastily. 1 Mur. Run to my lord of Suffolk; let him know, We have despatch'd the duke, as he commanded.

2 Mur. O, that it were to do !-What have we done? Didst ever hear a man so penitent?

Enter SUFFolk.

1 Mur. Here comes my lord.

Suf. Now, sirs, have you

Read-And fight so long. RITSON.

A Moor in a military dance, now called Morris, that is, a Moorish dance.
JOHNSON.

Morrice-dancing, with bells on the legs, is common at this day in Oxfordshire and the adjacent counties, on May-day. Holy Thursday, and Whitsun-ales, attended by the fool, or, as he is generally called, the 'Squire, and also a lord and lady; the latter most probably Maid Marian; "por is the hobby-borse forgot. ' HARRIS

Despatch'd this thing?

1 Mur. Ay, my good lord, he's dead.

Suf. 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 :—
Have you laid fair the bed? are all things well,
According as I gave directions?

1 Mur. 'Tis, my good-lord.

Suf. Away, begone!

[Exeunt Murderers.

Enter King HENRY, Queen MARGARET, Cardinal BEAUFORT, SOMERSET, Lords, and others.

K. Hen. 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'll call him presently, my noble lord.

[Exit.

K. Hen. Lords, take your places;-And, I pray you all, Proceed no straiter 'gainst our uncle Gloster, Than from true evidence, of good esteem,

He be approv'd in practice culpable.

Q. Mar. God forbid any malice should prevail, That faultless may condemn a nobleman!

Pray God, he may acquit him of suspicion !

K. Hen. I thank thee, Margaret; these words content me much.

Re-enter SUFfolk.

How now? why look'st thou pale ? why tremblest thou?
Where is our uncle? what is the matter, Suffolk ?
Suf. Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloster is dead.
Q. Mar. Marry, God forfend!

Car. God's secret judgment :—I did dream to-night, The duke was dumb, and could not speak a word.

[The King swoons. Q. Mar. How fares my lord ?-Help, lords! the king is

dead.

Som. Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.3

Q. Mar. Run, go, help, help!-O, Henry, ope thine eyes!
Suf. He doth revive again;-Madam, be patient.
K. Hen. O heavenly God!

Q. Mar. How fares my gracious lord?

[3] As nothing further is spoken either by Somerset or the Cardinal, or by any one else to show that they continue in the presence, it is to be presumed that they take advantage of the confusion occasioned by the king's swooning, and slip out un perceived. RITSON.

Suf. Comfort, my sovereign! gracious Henry, comfort! K. Hen. What, doth my lord of Suffolk comfort me? Came he right now to sing a raven's note, Whose dismal tune bereft my vital powers; And thinks he, that the chirping of a wren, By crying comfort from a hollow breast, Can chace 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. 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 Gloster's dead.

-

Q. Mar. 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,
Or blood-consuming sighs recall his life,

I would be blind with weeping, sick with groans,
Look pale as primrose, with blood-drinking sighs,
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 judg'd, 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: Ah me, unhappy!

To be a queen, and crown'd with infamy!

Hen. Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man! Q. Mar. Be woe for me, more wretched than he is." What, 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 Gloster's tomb ? Why, then dame Margaret was ne'er thy joy :

[4] Just now, even now. JOHNSON.

[5] That is, Let not woe be to thee for Gloster, but for me. JOHNSON.

Erect his statue then, and worship it,

And make my image but an alehouse sign.
Was I, for this, nigh wreck'd upon the sea;
And twice by aukward wind from England's bank
Drove back again unto my native clime?
What 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 curs'd the gentle gusts,
And he that loos'd them from their brazen caves;
And bid them blow towards England's blessed shore,
Or turn our stern upon a dreadful rock?

Yet olus would not be a murderer,
But left that hateful office unto thee:

The pretty vaulting sea refus'd to drown me;
Knowing, that thou would'st have me drown'd on shore,
With tears as salt as sea through thy unkindness:
The splitting 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 Margaret.

As far as I could ken thy chalky cliffs,
When from the 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 receiv'd it;
And so, I wish'd, thy body might my heart :
And even with this, I lost fair England's view,
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, commenc'd in burning Troy?

The verb perish is here used actively. STEEVENS.

The poet here is unquestionably alluding to Virgil (nied I.) but he strangely blends fact with fiction. In the first place, it was Cupid in the semblance of Ascanius, who sat in Dido's lap, and was fondled by her. But then it was not Cupid who related to her the process of Troy's destruction; but it was Eneas himself who related this history. MALONE