So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
Sirs, what's o' clock?

Serv.

Ten, my lord.

Glo. 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 Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook The abject people, gazing on thy face,

With envious looks, still 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'll prepare My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.

Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER, in a white sheet, with papers pinned upon her back, her feet bare, and a taper burning in her hand: SIR JOHN STANLEY, a Sheriff, and Officers.

Serv. So please your grace, we'll take her from the sheriff.

Glo. No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. Duch. 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,

And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on

thee!

Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks; And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine.

Glo. Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. Duch. Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself: For, whilst I think I am thy married wife, And thou a prince, protector of this land, Methinks, I should not thus be led along, Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back; And follow'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;
To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
Sometime I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife;
And he a prince, and ruler of the fand:
Yet so he rul'd, 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.
For Suffolk,-he that can do all in all

With her, that hateth thee, and hates us all,And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,

Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee:
But fear not thou, until thy foot be snar'd,
Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.

Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimest all awry;
I must offend before I be attainted:
And had I twenty times so many foes,
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.
Would'st have me rescue thee from this reproach?
Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd 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.

Glo. 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. [mission stays: Sher. An't please your grace, here my comAnd Sir John Stanley is appointed now To take her with him to the Isle of Man.

Glo. Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here? Stan. So am I given in charge, may't please your grace.

Glo. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray 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. Duch. What gone, my lord; and bid me not farewell?

Glo. Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak. [Exeunt GLOSTER and Servants. 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.-

Stanley, I pr'ythee, 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 re-
proach:

And shall I then be us'd 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; Although thou hast been conduct of my shame! Sher. It is my office; and, madam, pardon me. Duch. Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.

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.

[Exeunt.

ACT III.

SCENE I. The Abbey at Bury.

Enter to the Parliament, KING HENRY, QUEEN MARGARET, CARDINAL BEAUFORT, SUFFOLK, YORK, BUCKINGHAM, and Others.

K. Hen. I muse, my lord of Gloster is not come; 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, Whate'er ocasion keeps him from us now. Q. Mar. Can you not see? or will you 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,
Immediately he was upon his knee,

That all the court admir'd 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.
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,-
That he should come about your royal person,
Or be admitted to your highness' council.
By flattery bath he won the commons' hearts;
And, when he please to make commotion,
'Tis to be fear'd, they all will follow him.
Now 'tis the spring, and weeds are shallow-
rooted;

Suffer them now, and they'll o'ergrow the garden,

And choke the herbs for want of husbandry.

The reverent care, I bear unto my lord,

VOL. V.

K

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;
Or else conclude my words effectual.

Suff. 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 life, 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,

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; Gloster is a man Unsounded yet, and full of deep deceit.

Car. Did he not, contrary to form of law, Devise strange deaths for small offences done? York. And did he not, in his protectorship, 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.

K. Hen. 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 Gloster is as innocent

From meaning treason to our royal person,
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.

Q. Mar. Ah, what's more dangerous than this
fond affiance!