The Complete Works of William Shakespeare, William Shakespeare [book recommendations based on other books txt] 📗

>SIMPCOX. Black, forsooth; coal-black as jet.

KING HENRY. Why, then, thou know’st what colour jet is of?

SUFFOLK. And yet, I think, jet did he never see.

GLOUCESTER. But cloaks and gowns before this day a many.

WIFE. Never before this day in all his life.

GLOUCESTER. Tell me, sirrah, what’s my name?

SIMPCOX. Alas, master, I know not.

GLOUCESTER. What’s his name?

SIMPCOX. I know not.

GLOUCESTER. Nor his?

SIMPCOX. No, indeed, master.

GLOUCESTER. What’s thine own name?

SIMPCOX. Saunder Simpcox, an if it please you, master.

GLOUCESTER. Then, Saunder, sit there, the lying’st knave in Christendom. If thou hadst been born blind, thou mightst as well have known all our names as thus to name the several colours we do wear. Sight may distinguish of colours; but suddenly to nominate them all, it is impossible. My lords, Saint Alban here hath done a miracle; and would ye not think his cunning to be great that could restore this cripple to his legs again?

SIMPCOX. O master, that you could!

GLOUCESTER. My masters of Saint Albans, have you not beadles in your town, and things call’d whips?

MAYOR. Yes, my lord, if it please your Grace.

GLOUCESTER. Then send for one presently.

MAYOR. Sirrah, go fetch the beadle hither straight.

Exit an attendant GLOUCESTER. Now fetch me a stool hither by and by. [A stool brought] Now, sirrah, if you mean to save yourself from whipping, leap me over this stool and run away.

SIMPCOX. Alas, master, I am not able to stand alone!

You go about to torture me in vain.

 

Enter a BEADLE with whips GLOUCESTER. Well, sir, we must have you find your legs.

Sirrah beadle, whip him till he leap over that same stool.

BEADLE. I will, my lord. Come on, sirrah; off with your doublet quickly.

SIMPCOX. Alas, master, what shall I do? I am not able to stand.

 

After the BEADLE hath hit him once, he leaps over the stool and runs away; and they follow and cry ‘A miracle!’

 

KING HENRY. O God, seest Thou this, and bearest so long?

QUEEN. It made me laugh to see the villain run.

GLOUCESTER. Follow the knave, and take this drab away.

WIFE. Alas, sir, we did it for pure need!

GLOUCESTER. Let them be whipp’d through every market town till they come to Berwick, from whence they came.

Exeunt MAYOR, BEADLE, WIFE, &c.

CARDINAL. Duke Humphrey has done a miracle to-day.

SUFFOLK. True; made the lame to leap and fly away.

GLOUCESTER. But you have done more miracles than I: You made in a day, my lord, whole towns to fly.

 

Enter BUCKINGHAM

 

KING HENRY. What tidings with our cousin Buckingham?

BUCKINGHAM. Such as my heart doth tremble to unfold: A sort of naughty persons, lewdly bent, Under the countenance and confederacy Of Lady Eleanor, the Protector’s wife, The ringleader and head of all this rout, Have practis’d dangerously against your state, Dealing with witches and with conjurers, Whom we have apprehended in the fact, Raising up wicked spirits from under ground, Demanding of King Henry’s life and death And other of your Highness’ Privy Council, As more at large your Grace shall understand.

CARDINAL. And so, my Lord Protector, by this means Your lady is forthcoming yet at London.

This news, I think, hath turn’d your weapon’s edge; ‘Tis like, my lord, you will not keep your hour.

GLOUCESTER. Ambitious churchman, leave to afflict my heart.

Sorrow and grief have vanquish’d all my powers; And, vanquish’d as I am, I yield to the Or to the meanest groom.

KING HENRY. O God, what mischiefs work the wicked ones, Heaping confusion on their own heads thereby!

QUEEN. Gloucester, see here the tainture of thy nest; And look thyself be faultless, thou wert best.

GLOUCESTER. Madam, for myself, to heaven I do appeal How I have lov’d my King and commonweal; And for my wife I know not how it stands.

Sorry I am to hear what I have heard.

Noble she is; but if she have forgot

Honour and virtue, and convers’d with such As, like to pitch, defile nobility,

I banish her my bed and company

And give her as a prey to law and shame, That hath dishonoured Gloucester’s honest name.

KING HENRY. Well, for this night we will repose us here.

Tomorrow toward London back again

To look into this business thoroughly And call these foul offenders to their answers, And poise the cause in justice’ equal scales, Whose beam stands sure, whose rightful cause prevails.

Flourish. Exeunt

SCENE II.

London. The DUKE OF YORK’S garden

 

Enter YORK, SALISBURY, and WARWICK

 

YORK. Now, my good Lords of Salisbury and Warwick, Our simple supper ended, give me leave In this close walk to satisfy myself

In craving your opinion of my tide,

Which is infallible, to England’s crown.

SALISBURY. My lord, I long to hear it at full.

WARWICK. Sweet York, begin; and if thy claim be good, The Nevils are thy subjects to command.

YORK. Then thus:

Edward the Third, my lords, had seven sons; The first, Edward the Black Prince, Prince of Wales; The second, William of Hatfield; and the third, Lionel Duke of Clarence; next to whom Was John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster; The fifth was Edmund Langley, Duke of York; The sixth was Thomas of Woodstock, Duke of Gloucester; William of Windsor was the seventh and last.

Edward the Black Prince died before his father And left behind him Richard, his only son, Who, after Edward the Third’s death, reign’d as king Till Henry Bolingbroke, Duke of Lancaster, The eldest son and heir of John of Gaunt, Crown’d by the name of Henry the Fourth, Seiz’d on the realm, depos’d the rightful king, Sent his poor queen to France, from whence she came.

And him to Pomfret, where, as all you know, Harmless Richard was murdered traitorously.

WARWICK. Father, the Duke hath told the truth; Thus got the house of Lancaster the crown.

YORK. Which now they hold by force, and not by right; For Richard, the first son’s heir, being dead, The issue of the next son should have reign’d.

SALISBURY. But William of Hatfield died without an heir.

YORK. The third son, Duke of Clarence, from whose line I claim the crown, had issue Philippe, a daughter, Who married Edmund Mortimer, Earl of March; Edmund had issue, Roger Earl of March; Roger had issue, Edmund, Anne, and Eleanor.

SALISBURY. This Edmund, in the reign of Bolingbroke, As I have read, laid claim unto the crown; And, but for Owen Glendower, had been king, Who kept him in captivity till he died.

But, to the rest.

YORK. His eldest sister, Anne,

My mother, being heir unto the crown, Married Richard Earl of Cambridge, who was To Edmund Langley, Edward the Third’s fifth son, son.

By her I claim the kingdom: she was heir To Roger Earl of March, who was the son Of Edmund Mortimer, who married Philippe, Sole daughter unto Lionel Duke of Clarence; So, if the issue of the elder son

Succeed before the younger, I am King.

WARWICK. What plain proceedings is more plain than this?

Henry doth claim the crown from John of Gaunt, The fourth son: York claims it from the third.

Till Lionel’s issue fails, his should not reign.

It fails not yet, but flourishes in thee And in thy sons, fair slips of such a stock.

Then, father Salisbury, kneel we together, And in this private plot be we the first That shall salute our rightful sovereign With honour of his birthright to the crown.

BOTH. Long live our sovereign Richard, England’s King!

YORK. We thank you, lords. But I am not your king Till I be crown’d, and that my sword be stain’d With heart-blood of the house of Lancaster; And that’s not suddenly to be perform’d, But with advice and silent secrecy.

Do you as I do in these dangerous days: Wink at the Duke of Suffolk’s insolence, At Beaufort’s pride, at Somerset’s ambition, At Buckingham, and all the crew of them, Till they have snar’d the shepherd of the flock, That virtuous prince, the good Duke Humphrey; ‘Tis that they seek; and they, in seeking that, Shall find their deaths, if York can prophesy.

SALISBURY. My lord, break we off; we know your mind at full.

WARWICK. My heart assures me that the Earl of Warwick Shall one day make the Duke of York a king.

YORK. And, Nevil, this I do assure myself, Richard shall live to make the Earl of Warwick The greatest man in England but the King. Exeunt

SCENE III.

London. A hall of justice

 

Sound trumpets. Enter the KING and State: the QUEEN, GLOUCESTER, YORK, SUFFOLK, and SALISBURY, with guard, to banish the DUCHESS. Enter, guarded, the DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER, MARGERY JOURDAIN, HUME, SOUTHWELL, and BOLINGBROKE

 

KING HENRY. Stand forth, Dame Eleanor Cobham, Gloucester’s wife: In sight of God and us, your guilt is great; Receive the sentence of the law for sins Such as by God’s book are adjudg’d to death.

You four, from hence to prison back again; From thence unto the place of execution: The witch in Smithfield shall be burnt to ashes, And you three shall be strangled on the gallows.

You, madam, for you are more nobly born, Despoiled of your honour in your life, Shall, after three days’ open penance done, Live in your country here in banishment With Sir John Stanley in the Isle of Man.

DUCHESS. Welcome is banishment; welcome were my death.

GLOUCESTER. Eleanor, the law, thou seest, hath judged thee.

I cannot justify whom the law condemns.

Exeunt the DUCHESS and the other prisoners, guarded Mine eyes are full of tears, my heart of grief.

Ah, Humphrey, this dishonour in thine age Will bring thy head with sorrow to the ground!

I beseech your Majesty give me leave to go; Sorrow would solace, and mine age would ease.

KING HENRY. Stay, Humphrey Duke of Gloucester; ere thou go, Give up thy staff; Henry will to himself Protector be; and God shall be my hope, My stay, my guide, and lantern to my feet.

And go in peace, Humphrey, no less belov’d Than when thou wert Protector to thy King.

QUEEN. I see no reason why a king of years Should be to be protected like a child.

God and King Henry govern England’s realm!

Give up your staff, sir, and the King his realm.

GLOUCESTER. My staff! Here, noble Henry, is my staff.

As willingly do I the same resign

As ere thy father Henry made it mine; And even as willingly at thy feet I leave it As others would ambitiously receive it.

Farewell, good King; when I am dead and gone, May honourable peace attend thy throne! Exit QUEEN. Why, now is Henry King, and Margaret Queen, And Humphrey Duke of Gloucester scarce himself, That bears so shrewd a maim: two pulls at once-His lady banish’d and a limb lopp’d off.

This staff of honour raught, there let it stand Where it best fits to be, in Henry’s hand.

SUFFOLK. Thus droops this lofty pine and hangs his sprays; Thus Eleanor’s pride dies in her youngest days.

YORK. Lords, let him go. Please it your Majesty, This is the day appointed for the combat; And ready are the appellant and defendant, The armourer and his man, to enter the lists, So please your Highness to behold the fight.

QUEEN. Ay, good my lord; for purposely therefore Left I the court, to see this quarrel tried.

KING HENRY. A God’s name, see the lists and all things fit; Here let them end it, and God defend the right!

YORK. I never saw a fellow worse bested, Or more afraid to fight, than is the appellant, The servant of his armourer, my lords.

 

Enter at one door, HORNER, the Armourer, and his NEIGHBOURS, drinking to him so much that he