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A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 85

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QUEEN. O, but, my son, thy father favours him.

Richard, that vile abortive changeling brat, And Fauconbridge, are fallen at Henry's feet.

They woo for him, but entreat my son Gloster may die for this, that he hath done.

LEI. If Gloster live, thou wilt be overthrown.

QUEEN. If Gloster live, thy mother dies in moan.



LEI. If Gloster live, Leicester will fly the realm.

QUEEN. If Gloster live, thy kingdom's but a dream.

HEN. Have I not sworn by that eternal arm, That puts just vengeance' sword in monarchs' hands, Gloster shall die for his presumption!

What needs more conjuration, gracious mother?

And, honourable Leicester, mark my words.

I have a bead-roll of some threescore lords Of Gloster's faction.

QUEEN. Nay, of Henry's faction, Of thy false father's faction; speak the truth, He is the head of factions; were he down, Peace, plenty, glory, will impale thy crown.

LEI. Ay, there's the _But_, whose heart-white if we hit, The game is ours. Well, we may rage and rave[484]

At Gloster, Lancaster, Chester, Fauconbridge; But his the upshot.

QUEEN. Yet begin with Gloster.

HEN. The destinies run to the Book of Fates, And read in never-changing characters Robert of Gloster's end; he dies to-day: So fate, so heaven, so doth King Henry say.

QUEEN. Imperially resolv'd. [_Trumpets far off_.

LEI. The old King comes.

QUEEN. Then comes luxurious l.u.s.t; The King of concubines; the King that scorns The undefiled, chaste, and nuptial bed; The King that hath his queen imprisoned: For my sake, scorn him; son, call him not father; Give him the style of a compet.i.tor.

HEN. Pride, seize upon my heart: wrath, fill mine eyes!

Sit, lawful majesty, upon my front, Duty, fly from me; pity, be exil'd: Senses, forget that I am Henry's child.

QUEEN. I kiss thee, and I bless thee for this thought.

SCENE THE FIFTEENTH.

_Enter_ KING, LANCASTER, RICHARD, FAUCONBRIDGE.

KING. O Lancaster, bid Henry yield some reason, Why he desires so much the death of Gloster.

HEN. I hear thee, Henry, and I thus reply: I do desire the death of b.a.s.t.a.r.d Gloster, For that he spends the Treasure of the Crown; I do desire the death of b.a.s.t.a.r.d Gloster, For that he doth desire to pull me down.

Or were this false (I purpose to be plain), He loves thee, and for that I him disdain.

HEN. Therein thou shewest a hate-corrupted mind; To him the more unjust, to me unkind.

QUEEN. He loves you, as his father lov'd his mother.

KING. Fie, fie upon thee, hateful Elinor; I thought thou hadst been long since scarlet-dyed.

HEN. She is, and therefore cannot change her colour.

RICH. You are too strict; Earl Gloster's fault Merits not death.

FAU. By the rood, the Prince says true; Here is a statute from the Confessor[485].

HEN. The Confessor was but a simple fool.

Away with books; my word shall be a law, Gloster shall die.

LEI. Let Gloster die the death.

LAN. Leicester, he shall not; He shall have law, despite of him and thee.

HEN. What law? will you be traitors? what's the law?

RICH. His right hand's loss; and that is such a loss, As England may lament, all Christians weep.

That hand hath been advanc'd against the Moors, Driven out the Saracens from Gad's[486] and Sicily, Fought fifteen battles under Christ's red cross; And is it not, think you, a grievous loss, That for a slave (and for no other harm) It should be sundred from his princely arm?

FAU. More for example, n.o.ble Lancaster; But 'tis great pity too--too great a pity.

HEN. I'll have his hand and head.

RICH. Thou shalt have mine, then.

QUEEN. Well said, stubborn d.i.c.k, Jack would not Serve me so, were the boy here.

RICH. Both John and I have serv'd your will too long; Mother, repent your cruelty and wrong: Gloster, you know, is full of mirth and glee, And never else did your grace injury.

QUEEN. Gloster shall die.

HEN. Fetch him here, I'll see him dead.

RICH. He that stirs for him shall lay down his head.

FAU. O quiet, good my lords; patience, I pray, I think he comes unsent for, by my fay.

_Enter_ JOHN _in_ GLOSTER'S _gown_.

RICH. What mean'st thou, Gloster?

HEN. Who brought Gloster hither?

JOHN. Let Gloster hang and them that ... [487]

There lies his case[488], a mischief on his carcase!

[_Throws off_ GLOSTER'S _gown_.

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A Select Collection of Old English Plays Volume Vii Part 85 summary

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