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Attracts the same for aidance 'gainst the enemy,

Which with the heart there cools and ne'er returneth

To blush and beautify the cheek again.

But see, his face is black and full of blood,

His eyeballs further out than when he liv'd,

Staring full ghastly like a strangled man;

His hair uprear'd, his nostrils stretch'd with struggling,

His hands abroad display'd, as one that grasp'd

And tugg'd for life and was by strength subdu'd.

Look, on the sheets his hair, you see, is sticking;

His well-proportion'd beard made rough and rugged,

Like to the summer's corn by tempest lodged.

It cannot be but he was murther'd here;

The least of all these signs were probable.

SUFFOLK.

Why, Warwick, who should do the duke to death?

Myself and Beaufort had him in protection;

And we, I hope, sir, are no murtherers.

WARWICK.

But both of you were vow'd Duke Humphrey's foes,

And you, forsooth, had the good duke to keep;

'T is like you would not feast him like a friend,

And 't is well seen he found an enemy.

QUEEN.

Then you, belike, suspect these noblemen

As guilty of Duke Humphrey's timeless death.

WARWICK.

Who finds the heifer dead and bleeding fresh

And sees fast by a butcher with an axe

But will suspect 't was he that made the slaughter?

Who finds the partridge in the puttock's nest

But may imagine how the bird was dead,

Although the kite soar with unbloodied beak?

Even so suspicious is this tragedy.

QUEEN.

Are you the butcher, Suffolk? Where's your knife?

Is Beaufort term'd a kite? Where are his talons?

SUFFOLK.

I wear no knife to slaughter sleeping men;

But here's a vengeful sword, rusted with ease,

That shall be scoured in his rancorous heart

That slanders me with murther's crimson badge.—

Say, if thou dar'st, proud Lord of Warwickshire,

That I am faulty in Duke Humphrey's death.

[Exeunt Cardinal, Somerset, and others.]

WARWICK.

What dares not Warwick, if false Suffolk dare him?

QUEEN.

He dares not calm his contumelious spirit,

Nor cease to be an arrogant controller,

Though Suffolk dare him twenty thousand times.

WARWICK.

Madam, be still,—with reverence may I say;

For every word you speak in his behalf

Is slander to your royal dignity.

SUFFOLK.

Blunt-witted lord, ignoble in demeanour!

If ever lady wrong'd her lord so much,

Thy mother took into her blameful bed

Some stern untutor'd churl, and noble stock

Was graft with crab-tree slip, whose fruit thou art,

And never of the Nevils' noble race.

WARWICK.

But that the guilt of murther bucklers thee

And I should rob the deathsman of his fee,

Quitting thee thereby of ten thousand shames,

And that my sovereign's presence makes me mild,

I would, false murtherous coward, on thy knee

Make thee beg pardon for thy passed speech

And say it was thy mother that thou meant'st,

That thou thyself was born in bastardy;

And after all this fearful homage done,

Give thee thy hire and send thy soul to hell,

Pernicious blood-sucker of sleeping men!

SUFFOLK.

Thou shalt be waking while I shed thy blood,

If from this presence thou dar'st go with me.

WARWICK.

Away even now, or I will drag thee hence.

Unworthy though thou art, I'll cope with thee

And do some service to Duke Humphrey's ghost.

[Exeunt Suffolk and Warwick.]

KING.

What stronger breastplate than a heart untainted!

Thrice is he arm'd that hath his quarrel just,

And he but naked, though lock'd up in steel,

Whose conscience with injustice is corrupted.

[A noise within.]

QUEEN.

What noise is this?

[Re-enter Suffolk and Warwick, with their weapons drawn.]

KING.

Why, how now, lords! your wrathful weapons drawn

Here in our presence! dare you be so bold?

Why, what tumultuous clamour have we here?

SUFFOLK.

The traitorous Warwick with the men of Bury

Set all upon me, mighty sovereign.

SALISBURY.

[To the Commons, entering.] Sirs, stand apart;

the king shall know your mind.—

Dread lord, the commons send you word by me,

Unless false Suffolk straight be done to death,

Or banished fair England's territories,

They will by