Part 12

Glost. Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a Cloud: And after Summer, euermore succeedes Barren Winter, with his wrathfull nipping Cold; So Cares and Ioyes abound, as Seasons fleet. Sirs, what's a Clock? Seru. Tenne, my Lord

Glost. Tenne is the houre that was appointed me, To watch the comming of my punisht Duchesse: Vnneath may shee endure the Flintie Streets, To treade them with her tender-feeling feet. Sweet Nell, ill can thy Noble Minde abrooke The abiect People, gazing on thy face, With enuious Lookes laughing at thy shame, That erst did follow thy prowd Chariot-Wheeles, When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. But soft, I thinke she comes, and Ile prepare My teare-stayn'd eyes, to see her Miseries. Enter the Duchesse in a white Sheet, and a Taper burning in her hand, with the Sherife and Officers.

Seru. So please your Grace, wee'le take her from the Sherife

Gloster. No, stirre not for your liues, let her passe by

Elianor. Come you, my Lord, to see my open shame? Now thou do'st Penance too. Looke how they gaze, See how the giddy multitude doe point, And nodde their heads, and throw their eyes on thee. Ah Gloster, hide thee from their hatefull lookes, And in thy Closet pent vp, rue my shame, And banne thine Enemies, both mine and thine

Glost. Be patient, gentle Nell, forget this griefe

Elianor. Ah Gloster, teach me to forget my selfe: For whilest I thinke I am thy married Wife, And thou a Prince, Protector of this Land; Me thinkes I should not thus be led along, Mayl'd vp in shame, with Papers on my back, And follow'd with a Rabble, that reioyce To see my teares, and heare my deepe-fet groanes. The ruthlesse Flint doth cut my tender feet, And when I start, the enuious people laugh, And bid me be aduised how I treade. Ah Humfrey, can I beare this shamefull yoake? Trowest thou, that ere Ile looke vpon the World, Or count them happy, that enioyes the Sunne? No: Darke shall be my Light, and Night my Day. To thinke vpon my Pompe, shall be my Hell. Sometime Ile say, I am Duke Humfreyes Wife, And he a Prince, and Ruler of the Land: Yet so he rul'd, and such a Prince he was, As he stood by, whilest I, his forlorne Duchesse, Was made a wonder, and a pointing stock To euery idle Rascall follower. But be thou milde, and blush not at my shame, Nor stirre at nothing, till the Axe of Death Hang ouer thee, as sure it shortly will. For Suffolke, he that can doe all in all With her, that hateth thee and hates vs all, And Yorke, and impious Beauford, that false Priest, Haue all lym'd Bushes to betray thy Wings, And flye thou how thou canst, they'le tangle thee. But feare not thou, vntill thy foot be snar'd, Nor neuer seeke preuention of thy foes

Glost. Ah Nell, forbeare: thou aymest all awry. I must offend, before I be attainted: And had I twentie times so many foes, And each of them had twentie times their power, All these could not procure me any scathe, So long as I am loyall, true, and crimelesse. Would'st haue me rescue thee from this reproach? Why yet thy scandall were not wipt away, But I in danger for the breach of Law. Thy greatest helpe is quiet, gentle Nell: I pray thee sort thy heart to patience, These few dayes wonder will be quickly worne. Enter a Herald.

Her. I summon your Grace to his Maiesties Parliament, Holden at Bury, the first of this next Moneth

Glost. And my consent ne're ask'd herein before? This is close dealing. Well, I will be there. My Nell, I take my leaue: and Master Sherife, Let not her Penance exceede the Kings Commission

Sh. And't please your Grace, here my Commission stayes: And Sir Iohn Stanly is appointed now, To take her with him to the Ile of Man

Glost. Must you, Sir Iohn, protect my Lady here? Stanly. So am I giuen in charge, may't please your Grace

Glost. Entreat her not the worse, in that I pray You vse her well: the World may laugh againe, And I may liue to doe you kindnesse, if you doe it her. And so Sir Iohn, farewell

Elianor. What, gone my Lord, and bid me not farewell? Glost. Witnesse my teares, I cannot stay to speake.

Exit Gloster.

Elianor. Art thou gone to? all comfort goe with thee, For none abides with me: my Ioy, is Death; Death, at whose Name I oft haue beene afear'd, Because I wish'd this Worlds eternitie. Stanley, I prethee goe, and take me hence, I care not whither, for I begge no fauor; Onely conuey me where thou art commanded

Stanley. Why, Madame, that is to the Ile of Man, There to be vs'd according to your State

Elianor. That's bad enough, for I am but reproach: And shall I then be vs'd reproachfully? Stanley. Like to a Duchesse, and Duke Humfreyes Lady, According to that State you shall be vs'd

Elianor. Sherife farewell, and better then I fare, Although thou hast beene Conduct of my shame

Sherife. It is my Office, and Madame pardon me

Elianor. I, I, farewell, thy Office is discharg'd: Come Stanley, shall we goe? Stanley. Madame, your Penance done, Throw off this Sheet, And goe we to attyre you for our Iourney

Elianor. My shame will not be shifted with my Sheet: No, it will hang vpon my richest Robes, And shew it selfe, attyre me how I can. Goe, leade the way, I long to see my Prison.

Exeunt.

Sound a Senet. Enter King, Queene, Cardinall, Suffolke, Yorke, Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwicke, to the Parliament.

King. I muse my Lord of Gloster is not come: 'Tis not his wont to be the hindmost man, What e're occasion keepes him from vs now

Queene. Can you not see? or will ye not obserue The strangenesse of his alter'd Countenance? With what a Maiestie he beares himselfe, How insolent of late he is become, How prowd, how peremptorie, and vnlike himselfe. We know the time since he was milde and affable, And if we did but glance a farre-off Looke, Immediately he was vpon his Knee, That all the Court admir'd him for submission. But meet him now, and be it in the Morne, When euery one will giue the time of day, He knits his Brow, and shewes an angry Eye, And passeth by with stiffe vnbowed Knee, Disdaining dutie that to vs belongs. Small Curres are not regarded when they grynne, But great men tremble when the Lyon rores, And Humfrey is no little Man in England. First note, that he is neere you in discent, And should you fall, he is the next will mount. Me seemeth then, it is no Pollicie, Respecting what a rancorous minde he beares, And his aduantage following your decease, That he should come about your Royall Person, Or be admitted to your Highnesse Councell. By flatterie hath he wonne the Commons hearts: And when he please to make Commotion, 'Tis to be fear'd they all will follow him. Now 'tis the Spring, and Weeds are shallow-rooted, Suffer them now, and they'le o're-grow the Garden, And choake the Herbes for want of Husbandry. The reuerent care I beare vnto my Lord, Made me collect these dangers in the Duke. If it be fond, call it a Womans feare: Which feare, if better Reasons can supplant, I will subscribe, and say I wrong'd the Duke. My Lord of Suffolke, Buckingham, and Yorke, Reproue my allegation, if you can, Or else conclude my words effectuall

Suff. Well hath your Highnesse seene into this Duke: And had I first beene put to speake my minde, I thinke I should haue told your Graces Tale. The Duchesse, by his subornation, Vpon my Life began her diuellish practises: Or if he were not priuie to those Faults, Yet by reputing of his high discent, As next the King, he was successiue Heire, And such high vaunts of his Nobilitie, Did instigate the Bedlam braine-sick Duchesse, By wicked meanes to frame our Soueraignes fall. Smooth runnes the Water, where the Brooke is deepe, And in his simple shew he harbours Treason. The Fox barkes not, when he would steale the Lambe. No, no, my Soueraigne, Glouster is a man Vnsounded yet, and full of deepe deceit

Card. Did he not, contrary to forme of Law, Deuise strange deaths, for small offences done? Yorke. And did he not, in his Protectorship, Leuie great summes of Money through the Realme, For Souldiers pay in France, and neuer sent it? By meanes whereof, the Townes each day reuolted