God and King Henry govern England's realm: As e'er thy father Henry made it mine; Farewel, good King; when I am dead and gone, This ftaff of honour raught, there let it stand, Suf. Thus droops this lofty pine, and hangs his sprays; Q. Mar. Ay, good my Lord; for purposely therefore Left I the court, to fee this quarrel try'd. K. Henry. A'God's name, fee the lifts and all things fit;, Here let them end it, and God guard the right! York. I never saw a fellow worse bestead, Or more afraid to fight, than is th' appellant, Enter at one door the armourer and his neighbours, drinking a drum 1 Neigh. Here, neighbour Horner, I drink to you in a cup (6) With a Sand-bag faftened to it.] As, according to the old Laws of Duels, Knights were to fight with the Lance and Sword; fo a cup of fack; and fear not, neighbour, you shall do well enough. 2 Neigh. And here, neighbour, here's a cup of charneco. 3 Neigh. And here's a pot of good double beer, neighbour; drink, and fear not your man. Arm. Let it come, i'faith, and I'll pledge you all; and a fig for Peter. 1 Pren. Here, Peter, I drink to thee, and be not afraid. 2 Pren. Be merry, Peter, and fear not thy mafter ; fight for the credit of the 'prentices. Peter. I thank you all; drink, and pray for me, I pray you; for, I think, I have taken my laft draught in this world. Here, Robin: if I die, I give thee my apron; and, Will, thou fhalt have my hammer; and here, Tom, take all the money that I have. O Lord, bless me I pray God; for I am never able to deal with my mafter, he hath learn'd so much fence already. Sal. Come, leave your drinking, and fall to blows. Sirrah, what's thy name? Peter. Peter, forfooth. Sal. Peter? what more? Sal. Thump? Then fee thou thump thy mafter well. Arm. Mafters, I am come hither as it were upon my man's inftigation, to prove him a knave, and myself an honeft man and touching the Duke of York, I will take my death I never meant him any ill, nor the King, nor the Queen; and therefore, Peter, have at thee with a downright blow. York. Difpatch: this knave's tongue begins to double. Sound trumpets; alarum to the combatants. [They fight, and Peter ftrikes him down. fo thofe of inferior Rank fought with an Ebon Staff or Battoon, to the farther End of which was fixed a Bag crammed hard with Sand. To this Cuffom Hudibras has alluded in thefe humorous Lines: Engag'd with Money-bags, as bold Mr. Warburton. Arm. Arm. Hold, Peter, hold; I confefs, I confefs treafon. [Dies. York. Take away his weapon; fellow, thank God, and the good wine in thy mafter's way. Peter. O God, have I overcome mine enemy in this prefence ? O Peter, thou haft prevail'd in right. K. Henry. Go, take hence that traitor from our fight, For by his death we do perceive his guilt, And God in justice hath reveal'd to us The truth and innocence of this poor fellow, Which he had thought to murder wrongfully. Come, fellow, follow us for thy reward. SCENE, the STREET. [Exeunt. Enter Duke Humphry and his Men, in mourning Cloaks. Glo. Hus fometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; The barren winter with his nipping cold; Serv. Ten, my Lord. Glo. Ten is the hour that was appointed me, Enter Enter the Dutchefs in a white Sheet, and a Taper burning in her hand, with Sir John Stanley, a Sheriff and Officers. Ser. So please your Grace, we'll take her from the Sheriff. Glo. No, ftir not for your lives, let her pass by. Elean. Come you, my Lord, to fee my open fhame ? Now thou doft penance too. Look, how they gaze! See, how the giddy multitude do point, And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! Ah! Humphry, can I bear this shameful yoak? But be thou mild, and blufh not at my fhame, With her, that hateth thee and hates us all) Glo. Ah, Nell, forbear; thou aimeft all awry. Enter a Herald. Her. I fummon your Grace to his Majesty's parliament holden at Bury, the firft of this next month. Glo. And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before? This is clofe dealing. [Exit Herald. My Nell, I take my leave: and, mafter Sheriff, To take her with him to the Isle of Man. Glo. Muft you, Sir John, protect my lady here? Stan. So am I giv'n in charge, may't please your Grace. Glo. Entreat her not the worfe, in that I pray You ufe her well; the world may laugh again; And I may live to do you kindnefs, if You do it her and fo, Sir John, farewel. Elean. What gone, my Lord, and bid me not farewel? [Exit Gloucefter. Elean. |