King Henry VI, Part 2 by William Shakespeare

Author:William Shakespeare
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: ManyBooks.net

1 MURDERER.

'T is, my good lord.

SUFFOLK.

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 't is published.

SUFFOLK.

I'll call him presently, my noble lord.

[Exit.]

KING.

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.

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, Meg; these words content me much.--

[Re-enter SUFFOLK.]

How now! why look'st thou pale? why tremblest thou?

Where is our uncle? what's the matter, Suffolk?

SUFFOLK.

Dead in his bed, my lord; Gloster is dead.

QUEEN.

Marry, God forfend!

CARDINAL.

God's secret judgment!--I did dream to-night

The duke was dumb and could not speak a word.

[The King swoons.]

QUEEN.

How fares my lord?--Help, lords! the king is dead.

SOMERSET.

Rear up his body; wring him by the nose.

QUEEN.

Run, go, help, help!--O Henry, ope thine eyes!

SUFFOLK.

He doth revive again.--Madam, be patient.

KING.

O heavenly God!

QUEEN.

How fares my gracious lord?

SUFFOLK.

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

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 murtherous 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.

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

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. Ay me, unhappy!

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

KING.

Ah, woe is me for Gloster, wretched man!

QUEEN.

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.

Erect his statue and worship it,

And make my image but an alehouse sign.

Was I for this nigh wrack'd upon the sea,

And twice by awkward wind from England's bank

Drove back again unto my native clime?

What boded this

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.