1    The gaudy, blabbing and remorseful day
2    Is crept into the bosom of the sea;
3    And now loud-howling wolves arouse the jades
4    That drag the tragic melancholy night;
5    Who, with their drowsy, slow and flagging wings,
6    Clip dead men's graves and from their misty jaws
7    Breathe foul contagious darkness in the air.
8    Therefore bring forth the soldiers of our prize;
9    For, whilst our pinnace anchors in the Downs,
10   Here shall they make their ransom on the sand,
11   Or with their blood stain this discolour'd shore.
12   Master, this prisoner freely give I thee;
13   And thou that art his mate, make boot of this;
14   The other, Walter Whitmore, is thy share.

15   What is my ransom, master? let me know.

16   A thousand crowns, or else lay down your head.

17   And so much shall you give, or off goes yours.

18   What, think you much to pay two thousand crowns,
19   And bear the name and port of gentlemen?
20   Cut both the villains' throats; for die you shall:
21   The lives of those which we have lost in fight
22   Be counterpoised with such a petty sum!

23   I'll give it, sir; and therefore spare my life.

24   And so will I and write home for it straight.

25   I lost mine eye in laying the prize aboard,
26   And therefore to revenge it, shalt thou die;
To SUFFOLK
27   And so should these, if I might have my will.

28   Be not so rash; take ransom, let him live.

29   Look on my George; I am a gentleman:
30   Rate me at what thou wilt, thou shalt be paid.

31   And so am I; my name is Walter Whitmore.
32   How now! why start'st thou? what, doth
33   death affright?

34   Thy name affrights me, in whose sound is death.
35   A cunning man did calculate my birth
36   And told me that by water I should die:
37   Yet let not this make thee be bloody-minded;
38   Thy name is Gaultier, being rightly sounded.

39   Gaultier or Walter, which it is, I care not:
40   Never yet did base dishonour blur our name,
41   But with our sword we wiped away the blot;
42   Therefore, when merchant-like I sell revenge,
43   Broke be my sword, my arms torn and defaced,
44   And I proclaim'd a coward through the world!

45   Stay, Whitmore; for thy prisoner is a prince,
46   The Duke of Suffolk, William de la Pole.

47   The Duke of Suffolk muffled up in rags!

48   Ay, but these rags are no part of the duke:
49   Jove sometimes went disguised, and why not I?

50   But Jove was never slain, as thou shalt be.

51   Obscure and lowly swain, King Henry's blood,
52   The honourable blood of Lancaster,
53   Must not be shed by such a jaded groom.
54   Hast thou not kiss'd thy hand and held my stirrup?
55   Bare-headed plodded by my foot-cloth mule
56   And thought thee happy when I shook my head?
57   How often hast thou waited at my cup,
58   Fed from my trencher, kneel'd down at the board.
59   When I have feasted with Queen Margaret?
60   Remember it and let it make thee crest-fall'n,
61   Ay, and allay this thy abortive pride;
62   How in our voiding lobby hast thou stood
63   And duly waited for my coming forth?
64   This hand of mine hath writ in thy behalf,
65   And therefore shall it charm thy riotous tongue.

66   Speak, captain, shall I stab the forlorn swain?

67   First let my words stab him, as he hath me.

68   Base slave, thy words are blunt and so art thou.

69   Convey him hence and on our longboat's side
70   Strike off his head.

71   Thou darest not, for thy own.

72   Yes, Pole.

73   Pole!

74   Pool! Sir Pool! lord!
75   Ay, kennel, puddle, sink; whose filth and dirt
76   Troubles the silver spring where England drinks.
77   Now will I dam up this thy yawning mouth
78   For swallowing the treasure of the realm:
79   Thy lips that kiss'd the queen shall sweep the ground;
80   And thou that smiledst at good Duke Humphrey's death,
81   Against the senseless winds shalt grin in vain,
82   Who in contempt shall hiss at thee again:
83   And wedded be thou to the hags of hell,
84   For daring to affy a mighty lord
85   Unto the daughter of a worthless king,
86   Having neither subject, wealth, nor diadem.
87   By devilish policy art thou grown great,
88   And, like ambitious Sylla, overgorged
89   With gobbets of thy mother's bleeding heart.
90   By thee Anjou and Maine were sold to France,
91   The false revolting Normans thorough thee
92   Disdain to call us lord, and Picardy
93   Hath slain their governors, surprised our forts,
94   And sent the ragged soldiers wounded home.
95   The princely Warwick, and the Nevils all,
96   Whose dreadful swords were never drawn in vain,
97   As hating thee, are rising up in arms:
98   And now the house of York, thrust from the crown
99   By shameful murder of a guiltless king
100  And lofty proud encroaching tyranny,
101  Burns with revenging fire; whose hopeful colours
102  Advance our half-faced sun, striving to shine,
103  Under the which is writ 'Invitis nubibus.'
104  The commons here in Kent are up in arms:
105  And, to conclude, reproach and beggary
106  Is crept into the palace of our king.
107  And all by thee. Away! convey him hence.

108  O that I were a god, to shoot forth thunder
109  Upon these paltry, servile, abject drudges!
110  Small things make base men proud: this villain here,
111  Being captain of a pinnace, threatens more
112  Than Bargulus the strong Illyrian pirate.
113  Drones suck not eagles' blood but rob beehives:
114  It is impossible that I should die
115  By such a lowly vassal as thyself.
116  Thy words move rage and not remorse in me:
117  I go of message from the queen to France;
118  I charge thee waft me safely cross the Channel.

119  Walter,--

120  Come, Suffolk, I must waft thee to thy death.

121  Gelidus timor occupat artus it is thee I fear.

122  Thou shalt have cause to fear before I leave thee.
123  What, are ye daunted now? now will ye stoop?

124  My gracious lord, entreat him, speak him fair.

125  Suffolk's imperial tongue is stern and rough,
126  Used to command, untaught to plead for favour.
127  Far be it we should honour such as these
128  With humble suit: no, rather let my head
129  Stoop to the block than these knees bow to any
130  Save to the God of heaven and to my king;
131  And sooner dance upon a bloody pole
132  Than stand uncover'd to the vulgar groom.
133  True nobility is exempt from fear:
134  More can I bear than you dare execute.

135  Hale him away, and let him talk no more.

136  Come, soldiers, show what cruelty ye can,
137  That this my death may never be forgot!
138  Great men oft die by vile bezonians:
139  A Roman sworder and banditto slave
140  Murder'd sweet Tully; Brutus' bastard hand
141  Stabb'd Julius Caesar; savage islanders
142  Pompey the Great; and Suffolk dies by pirates.

143  And as for these whose ransom we have set,
144  It is our pleasure one of them depart;
145  Therefore come you with us and let him go.

146  There let his head and lifeless body lie,
147  Until the queen his mistress bury it.

148  O barbarous and bloody spectacle!
149  His body will I bear unto the king:
150  If he revenge it not, yet will his friends;
151  So will the queen, that living held him dear.