GLOUCESTER

Inprimis, It is agreed between the French king Charles, and William de la Pool, Marquess of Suffolk, embas sador for Henry king of England, that the said Henry shall wed and espouse the lady Margaret, daughter to Raynard King of Naples, Cyssels, and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of Eng land, ere the 30. of the next month. Pardon my Lord, a sudden qualm came over my heart, Which dims mine eyes that I can see no more, Uncle of Winchester I pray you read on. Nay my Lord, 'tis not my words that troubles you, But my presence, proud Prelate as thou art: But isle be gone, and give thee leave to speak, Farewell my Lords, and say when I am gone, I prophesied France would be lost ere long. Faith my Lord it is but a base mind, That can soar no higher then a Falcons pitch. Yea my lord Cardinal, were it not good Your grace could fly to heaven. How now my lord, why this is more then needs, churchmen so hight! good uncle can you dote? As how, my lord? Why Suffolk, England knows thy insolence. Faith holy uncle, I would it were come to that. Dare! I tell thee Priest, Plantagenets could never brook the dare In Bastardy. Make up no factious numbers, but even in thine own person meet me at the East end of the grove. Faith priestile shave your crown. At Berwick and come thus far for help? What art thou lame too? Nor his name? Whats thine own name? Then Sander fit there, the lyingest knave in Chri stendome. If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightest aswell have known all our names, as thus to name the several continued lours we do wear. Sighed may distinguish of colours but so Daintily to nominate them all it is impossible. My lords, same All bons here hath done a miracle, and would you not think his cunning to be great, that could restore this cripple to his legs again? Then send for one presently Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. Now sirrah, if you mean to save your self from whipping. Leap me over this stool, and run away. Well sir, we must have you find your legs, Sirrah Beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool. A miracle, a miracle, let him be taken again, and whipped through every market Town till he comes at Berwick where he was born. Yea but you did greater wonders, when you made whole Dukedoms fly in a day. Witness France. Ah Nell, sweet Nell, forget this extreme grief, And bear it patiently to ease thy heart My lovely Nell, what wouldst thou have me do Should I attempt to reseue thee from hence, I should incur the danger of the law, And thy disgrace would not be shadowed so. Witness my bleeding heart, I cannot stay to speak. Why 'tis well known that while I was protector, Pity was all the fault that was in me: A murderer, or foul felonious thief, That robs and murders Silly passengers, I tortured above the rate of common law. 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 Bewford here, Done all we could to keep that land in peace? And is all our labors then spent in vain, For Suffolk heathen new made duke that rules the roast, Hath given away for our King Henries Queen, The Duchess of Anioy and same unto her father. Ah lords, fatal is this marriage canselling our states, Reversing Monuments of conquered France, Undoing all, as none had never been done. My lovely Nell, far be it from my heart, To think of Treasons gainst my sovereign lord, But I was troubled with a dream to night, And God I pray, it do betide no ill. This night when I was laid in bed, I dreamt that This my staff mine Office badge in Court, Was broke in two, and on the ends were placed, of the Cardinal of Winchester, lliam de la Pool first Duke of Suffolk. Fie Nell, ambitious woman as thou art, Art thou not second woman in this land, And the Protectors wife, beloved of him, And wilt thou still be hammering treason thus? Away I say, and let me hear no more. Nay Nell, isle give no credit to a dream, But I would have thee to think on no such things. With all my heart I will attend his grace: Come Nell, thou wilt go with us I am sure. Madame, our King is old enough himself, To give his answer without your consent. Madame, I am but Protector over the land. And when it please his grace, I will resign my charge. The law my Lord is this by case, it rests suspicious, That a day of combat be appointed, And there to try each others right or wrong, Which shall be on the thirtieth of this month, With Eben staves, and Standbags combating In Smithfield before your Royal Majesty. My gracious Lord, then this is my resolve, For that these words the Armourer does speak, Does breed suspicion on the partly of York, Let Somerset be Regent over the French, Till trial's made, and York may clear himself. But cloaks and gowns ere this day many a one But tell me sirrah, what's my name? Forbear ambitious prelate to urge my grief, And pardon me my gracious sovereign, For here I swear unto your majesty, That I am guiltlesle of these heinous crimes, Which my ambitious wife hath falsely done: And for she would betray her sovereign lord, There renounce her from my bed and board, And leave her open for the law to judge, Unless she clear her self of this foul deed. O gracious Henry, give me leave awhile, To leave your grace, and to depart away. For sorrows tears hath gripped my aged heart, And makes the fountains of mine eyes to swell, And therefore good my Lord let me depart. My staff, yea noble Henry, my life and all, As erst thy noble father made it mine, And even at willing at thy feet I leave it, As others would ambitiously receive it, And long hereafter when I am dead and gone, May honourable peace attend thy throne. Sirrah, what's a clock? Then is that woeful hour hard at hand, That my poor lady should come by this way. In shameful penance wandering in the streets, Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrooke, 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. I charge you for your lines stir not a foot, Nor offer once to draw a weapon here, But let them do their office as they should. A Parliament and our consent never craude Therein before. This is so deine. Well, we will be there. Must you sir John conduct my lady? I pray you sir John, use her never the worse, In that I entreat you to use her well, The world may smile again, and I may live To do you favour if you do it her, And so sir John farewell. Pardon my liege, that I have stayed so long. Why Suffolks duke thou shalt not see me blush Nor change my countenance for thine arrest, Whereof am I guilty, who are my accusers? Is it but thought so, and who are they that think so? So God help me, as I have watched the night, Ever intending good for England still, That penny that ever I took from France, Be brought against me at the judgement day, I never robbed the soldiers of their pay, Many a pound of mine own proper cost Have I sent over for the soldiers wants, Because I would not rack the needy Commons. Ah gracious Henry these days are dangerous, And would my death might end these Misery's, And stay their moods for good King Henries sake, But I am made the Prologue to their play, And thousands more must follow after me, That dreads not yet their lives destruction, Suffolks hateful tongue blabs his hearts malice. Gewfords firy eyes shows his envious mind, Buckingham's proud looks bewrays his cruel thoughts, And dogged York that levels at the Moon. Whose overweening arm I have held back: All you have joined to betray me thus: And you my gracious lady, and Sovereign mistress, Causeless have laid complaints upon my head, I shall not want false witnesses enough, That so amongst you, you may have my life. The proverb no doubt will be well performed, A staff is quickly found to beat a dog. Far truer spoke then meant, I lose indeed, Beshrew the winners hearts, they play me false. Oh! thus king Henry casts away his crouch, Before his legs can bear his body up, And puts his watchful shepherd from his side, While wolves stand snaring who shall bite him first. Farewell my sovereign, long mayest thou enjoy, Thy father's happy days free from annoy. Where wast thou born? How cam st thou lame? Wart thou blind, and would climb plum-trees? But tell me, wart thou born blind? What art thou, his mother? Hadst thou been his mother, Thou couldst have better told: Why let me see I think thou canst not see yet. Sayest thou so! what colour's his cloak? And his cloak? And what colour's his hose? And what colours my gown? Whats his name? Nor his? My masters of Saint Albons, Have you not Beadles in your Town, And things called whips?