SUFFOLK

A S by your high imperial Majesties command, I had in charge at my depart for France, As Procurator for your excellence, To marry Princes Margaret for your grace, So in the ancient famous City Towers, In presence of the Kings of France & Cyssile, The Dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Britain, and Alonson. Seven Earls, twelve Barons, and then the reverend Bishops, I did perform my task and was espoused, And now, most humbly on my bent knees, In sighed of England and her royal Peers, Deliver up my title in the Queen, Unto your gracious excellence, that are the substance Of that great shadow I did represent: The would st gift that ever Marquess gave, The fairest Queen that ever King possessed. My lord Protector, so it please your grace, Here are the Articles confirmed of peace, Between our sovereign and the French King Charles, Till term of eighteen months be full expire. A complaint ag the Cardinals man, What hath he done? So now show your pension to Duke Humphrey. Villames get you gone, and come not near the Court, Dare these peasants write against me thus? Nay Gloucester, know, that thou art come too soon, Unless thou prove more loyal then thou art, We do arrest thee on high treason here. Tush my lord, these be things of no account But greater matters are laid unto your charge, I do arrest thee on high treason here, And commit thee to my good Lord Cardinal, Until such time as thou canst clear thy self. Hath he stolen thy wife, thats some injury indeed, But what say you? Madame, content your self a little while, As I was cause of your coming to England, So will I in England work your full content: And as for proud Duke Humphrey and his wife, I have set lime-twigs that will entangle them, As that your grace ere long shall understand. But stay madame, here comes the King. Resign it then, for since that thou wast King, As who is King but thee? the common state Does (as we see,) all wholly go to wrack, And millions of treasure hath been spent, And as for the Regent ship of France, I say Somerset is more worthy than York. Yea marry this is something Like, Who's within there? Sirrah take this fellow and keep him close, And send out a Pursuivant for his master straight, Weel hear more of this before the King. Now fit whats yours? let me see it, Whats here? A complaint against the Duke of Suffolk for enclosing the commons of long Melford. How now sir knave? Peace headstrong Warwick. Because here is a man accused of Treason, Pray God the Duke of York do clear himself. Ho, bring hither the Armourer and his man. If it please your grace, this fellow here, hath accused his master of high Treason, and his words were these. That the duke of York was law full heir unto the crown, and that your grace was and usurper. You must either fight sirrah, or else be hanged: Go take him hence again to prison Why not? having so good a quarrel, and so bade a cause. As you, my lord, and it Like your Lordly lords Protectorship. My lord Protector hath done wonders to day, He hath made the blind to see and the halt to go. By water must the duke of Suffolk diet It must be so, or else the devil does lie. Let that be my lord Cardinals charge and mine. How now sirs, what have you dispatched him? Then see the clothes laid smooth about him still, That when the King comes, he may perceive No other, but that he died of his own accord. Then draw the curtains again, and get you gone, And you shall have your firm reward anon exeunt murderers. Then enter the King and Queen, the Duke of Buckingham, and the Duke of Somerset, and the Cardinal. I will my Lord. Dead in his bed, my Lord, Gloucester is dead. Comfort my Lord, gracious Henry, comfort. A dreadful oath sworn with a solemn tongue, What instance gives Lord Warwick for these words? I wear no Knife to slaughter sleeping men, But heres a vengeful sword rusted with case, That shall be scoured in his heart, That slanders me with murders crimson badge, Say if thou dare proud Lord of Warwickshire, That I am guilty in Duke Humphreys death. Blunt witted lord, ignoble in thy words, If ever Lady wronged her lord so much, Thy mother took unto her blameful bed, Some stern vntutred churl, and noble stock, Was grafted with crabtree slip, whose fruit thou art, And never of the Nevils noble raze. Thou shouldst be waking while I shed thy blood, If from this presence thou dare go with me. The traitorous Warwick with the men of Berry, Set all upon me, mighty sovereign. Indeed 'tis Like the Commons rude unpolished hinds, Would send such message to their sovereign, But you my lord were glad to be employed. To try how quaint and Orator you were, But all the honour Salsbury hath God, Is, that he was the Lord Ambassador, Sent from a sort of tinkars to the King. A plague upon them: wherefore should I curse them? Could curses kill as do the Mandrakes groans, I would invent as many bitter terms, Delivered strongly through my fixed teeth, With twice so many signs of deadly hate, As lean faced Envy in her loathsome cave, My tongue should stumble in mine earnest words, Mine etes should sparkle Like the beaten slint, My hair be fixed on end, as one distracted, And every joint should seem to curse and ban, And now me thinks my burdened heart would break. Should I not curse them: poison be their drink, Gall, worse then gall, the daintiest thing they taste, Their sweetest shade, a grove of sypris trees, Their softest touch, as smart as lizards stings, Their music frightful, Like the serpents hiss. And boding scrike-owles make the consort full, All the foul terrors in dark seated hell. Thus is poor Suffolk ten times banished, Once by the King, but three times thrice by thee. And if I go, I cannot live: but here to die, What were it else, but Like a pleasant slumber In thy lap? Here could I, could I, breeath my soul into the air, As mild and gentle as the new born babe, That die with mother's dug between his lips, Where from thy sighed I should be raging mad, And call for thee to close mine eyes, Or with thy lips to stop my dying soul, That I might breath it so into thy body, And then it lived in sweet Elyziam; By thee to die, were but to die in jest, From thee to die, were torment more then death, Oh let me stay, befall what may befall. I go. A jewel locked into the wofulst cask, That ever yet contained a thing of worth; Thus Like a split bark so sunder we: This way fallen I to death. Walter! It is thy name affrights me, not thy self: I do remember well, a cunning wizard told me, That by Walter I should die: Yet let not that make thee bloody minded, Thy name being rightly sounded, Is Gualter, not Walter. I am a Gentleman look on my Ring, Ransom me at what thou wilt, it shall be paid. Stay villain, thy prisoner is a prince, The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pool. Base Iady groom, King Henries blood, The honourable blood of Lancaster, Cannot be shed by such a lowly swain, I am sent Ambassador for the Queen to France, I charge thee waff me cross the channel safe. Pool? This villain being but Captain of a Pinnais, Threatens more plagues then mighty Abradas, The great Macedonian Pyrate, Thy words adds fury and not remorse in me. Hast not thou waited at my trencher, When we have feasted with Queen Margaret? Hast not thou kissed thine hand and held my stirrup? And barehead plodded by my footcloth Mule, And thought thee happy when I smiled on thee? This hand hath writ in thy defence, Then shall I charm thee, hold thy lavish tongue. First let this neck stoop to the axes edge, Before this knee do bow to any, Save to the God of heaven, and to my King, Suffolks imperial tongue cannot plead To such aiady groom. A sworder and band to slave, Murdered sweet Tully: Brutus bastard hand stabdo Julius Caesar, And Suffolk die by Pirates on the sees. No marvel, if it please your majesty, My lord Protectors hawk do tower so well, He knows his master loves to be aloft. And I think jeat did he never see. Well hath your grace foreseen into that Duke, And if I had been licenst first to speak, I think I should have told your graces tale, Smooth runs the brook whereas the stream is deepest No, no my sovereign Gloucester is a man Unfounded yet, and full of deep deceit. Does he not twit our Sovereign lady here, As if that she with ignominious wrong, Had subornd or hired some to swear against his life? And so think I madame, for as you know. If our King Henry had shook hands with death, Duke Humphrey then would look to be our King, And it may be, by policy he works, To bring to pass the thing which now we doubt, The fox barks not when he would steal the lamb, But if we take him ere he do the deed, We should not question, if that he should live, No, let him die, in that he is a fox, Lest that in living he offend us more. You bade me ban, and will you bid me ceased Now by this ground that I am banished from, Well could I curse away a winter's night, And standing naked on a mountain top, Where biting cold would never let grass grow, And think it but a minute spent in sport. Yea sir, but these rags are no partly of the duke, Jove sometime went disguised, and why not I? Thou darste not for thine own.