ing,
Being his child; now he's thy underling!
I have done worse: thrice I drew my sword,
In three set battles for thy false defence!
John hath done worse; he still hath took thy part.
All of us three have smit our father's heart,
Which made proud Leicester bold to strike his face,
To his eternal shame and our disgrace!

HEN. Silence, I see thou mean'st to find none fit.
I am sure, nor Lancaster, nor Huntington,
Nor Fauconbridge, will lay a hand on him.
Mother, wife, brother, let's descend the throne,
Where Henry, as[552] the monarch of the west.
Hath sat[553] amongst his princes dignified.
Father, take you the place: see justice [done].

KING. It's unjust justice, I must tell thee, son.

HEN. Mother, hold you the basin, you the towel:
I know your French hearts thirst for English blood;
John, take the mallet; I will hold the knife,
And when I bid thee smite, strike for thy life:
Make a mark, surgeon. Gloster, now prepare thee.

GLO. Tut. I am ready; to thy worst I dare thee.

HEN. Then have I done my worst, thrice-honour'd earl,
I do embrace thee in affection's arms.

QUEEN. What mean'st thou, Henry? O, what means my son?

HEN. I mean no longer to be lullabi'd
In your seditious arms.

HEN. WIFE. _Mordieu_[554] Henry.

HEN. _Mordieu_ nor devil, little tit of France,
I know your heart leaps at our heart's mischance.

JOHN. 'Swounds, Henry, thou art mad!

HEN. I have been mad:
What, stamp'st thou, John? know'st thou not who I am?
Come, stamp the devil out, suck'd from thy dam?

QUEEN. I'll curse thee, Henry.

HEN. You're best be quiet;
Lest, where we find you, to the Tower we bear you;
For, being abroad, England hath cause to fear you.[555]

KING. I am struck dumb with wonder.

GLO. I amaz'd, imagine that I see a vision.

HEN. Gloster, I gave thee first this Skink, this slave;
It's in thy power his life to spill or save.

SKINK. He's a noble gentleman, I do not doubt his usage.

HEN. Stand not thus wond'ring; princes, kneel all down,
And cast your coronets before his crown.
Down, stubborn Queen, kneel to your wronged king,
Down, mammet! Leicester, I'll cut off thy legs,
If thou delay thy duty! when, proud John?

JOHN. Nay, if all kneel of force, I must be one.

FAU. Now, by my halidom, a virtuous deed!

HEN. Father, you see your most rebellious son,
Stricken with horror of his horrid guilt,
Requesting sentence fitting his desert:
O, tread upon his head, that trod [upon]
Your heart: I do