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- $Unique_ID{SSP00312}
- $Title{King Henry VI, Part II: Act IV, Scene I}
- $Author{Shakespeare, William}
- $Subject{}
- $Log{Dramatis Personae*00300.txt}
-
- Portions copyright (c) CMC ReSearch, Inc., 1989
-
- The Complete Works of William Shakespeare
-
- KING HENRY VI, PART II
-
-
- ACT IV
- ................................................................................
-
-
- SCENE I: The coast of Kent.
- . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
-
- {Alarum. Fight at sea. Ordnance goes off. Enter a
- Captain, a Master, a Master's-mate, WALTER WHITMORE,
- and others; with them SUFFOLK, and others, prisoners.}
-
- Captain: The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day
- Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
- And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
- That drag the tragic melancholy night;
- Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,
- Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
- Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
- Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
- For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
- Here shall they make their ransom on the sand, 10
- Or with their blood stain this discolor'd shore.
- Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;
- And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;
- The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.
-
- First Gentleman: What is my ransom, master? let me know.
-
- Master: A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.
-
- Master's-Mate: And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.
-
- Captain: What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
- And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
- Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall: 20
- The lives of those which we have lost in fight
- Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!
-
- First Gentleman: I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.
-
- Second Gentleman: And so will I and write home for it straight.
-
- WHITMORE: I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
- And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die;
-
- [To SUFFOLK.]
-
- And so should these, if I might have my will.
-
- Captain: Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.
-
- SUFFOLK: Look on my George; I am a gentleman:
- Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid. 30
-
- WHITMORE: And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
- How now! why start'st thou? what, doth
- death affright?
-
- SUFFOLK: Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
- A cunning man did calculate my birth
- And told me that by water I should die:
- Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
- Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.
-
- WHITMORE: Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
- Never yet did base dishonor blur our name,
- But with our sword we wiped away the blot; 40
- Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
- Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
- And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!
-
- SUFFOLK: Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
- The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.
-
- WHITMORE: The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!
-
- SUFFOLK: Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke:
- Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I?
-
- Captain: But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.
-
- SUFFOLK: Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood, 50
- The honorable blood of Lancaster,
- Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
- Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?
- Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule
- And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
- How often hast thou waited at my cup,
- Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board.
- When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
- Remember it and let it make thee crest-fall'n,
- Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride; 60
- How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
- And duly waited for my coming forth?
- This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
- And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.
-
- WHITMORE: Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?
-
- Captain: First let my words stab him, as he hath me.
-
- SUFFOLK: Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.
-
- Captain: Convey him hence and on our longboat's side
- Strike off his head.
-
- SUFFOLK: Thou darest not, for thy own.
-
- Captain: Yes, Pole.
-
- SUFFOLK: Pole!
-
- Captain: Pool! Sir Pool! lord! 70
- Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
- Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
- Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
- For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
- Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
- And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death,
- Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
- Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again:
- And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
- For daring to affy a mighty lord 80
- Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
- Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
- By devilish policy art thou grown great,
- And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged
- With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
- By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
- The false revolting Normans thorough thee
- Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
- Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts,
- And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home. 90
- The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
- Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
- As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
- And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
- By shameful murder of a guiltless king
- And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
- Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colors
- Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
- Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
- The commons here in Kent are up in arms: 100
- And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
- Is crept into the palace of our king.
- And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.
-
- SUFFOLK: O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
- Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
- Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
- Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
- Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.
- Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob beehives:
- It is impossible that I should die 110
- By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
- Thy words move rage and not remorse in me:
- I go of message from the queen to France;
- I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.
-
- Captain: Walter,--
-
- WHITMORE: Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.
-
- SUFFOLK: Gelidus timor occupat artus it is thee I fear.
-
- WHITMORE: Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
- What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?
-
- First Gentleman: My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair. 120
-
- SUFFOLK: Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
- Used to command, untaught to plead for favor.
- Far be it we should honor such as these
- With humble suit: no, rather let my head
- Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
- Save to the God of heaven and to my king;
- And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
- Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
- True nobility is exempt from fear:
- More can I bear than you dare execute. 130
-
- Captain: Hale him away, and let him talk no more.
-
- SUFFOLK: Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
- That this my death may never be forgot!
- Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
- A Roman sworder and banditto slave
- Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
- Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
- Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.
-
- [Exeunt Whitmore and others with Suffolk.]
-
- Captain: And as for these whose ransom we have set,
- It is our pleasure one of them depart; 140
- Therefore come you with us and let him go.
-
- [Exeunt all but the First Gentleman.]
-
- {Re-enter WHITMORE with SUFFOLK's body.}
-
- WHITMORE: There let his head and lifeless body lie,
- Until the queen his mistress bury it.
-
- [Exit.]
-
- First Gentleman: O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
- His body will I bear unto the king:
- If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
- So will the queen, that living held him dear.
-
- [Exit with the body.]
-