Act 2, Scene 4

A Street.

[Enter GLOSTER and his Servingmen, in mourning cloaks.]
Duke of Gloucester
1067 Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud,
1068 And after summer evermore succeeds
1069 Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold;
1070 So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.
1071 Sirs, what's o'clock?
Serving-men
1072 Ten, my lord.
Duke of Gloucester
1073 Ten is the hour that was appointed me
1074 To watch the coming of my punish'd duchess.
1075 Uneath may she endure the flinty streets,
1076 To tread them with her tender-feeling feet.—
1077 Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook
1078 The abject people gazing on thy face
1079 With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,
1080 That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels
1081 When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets.—
1082 But, soft! I think she comes; and I'll prepare
1083 My tear-stain'd eyes to see her miseries.
[Enter the DUCHESS OF GLOSTER in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with SIR JOHN STANLEY, the Sheriff, and Officers.]
Serving-men
1084 So please your Grace, we'll take her from the
1085 sheriff.
Duke of Gloucester
1086 No, stir not for your lives; let her pass by.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1087 Come you, my lord, to see my open shame?
1088 Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!
1089 See how the giddy multitude do point,
1090 And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee!
1091 Ah, Gloster, hide thee from their hateful looks,
1092 And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame,
1093 And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!
Duke of Gloucester
1094 Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1095 Ah, Gloster, teach me to forget myself!
1096 For whilst I think I am thy married wife,
1097 And thou a prince, protector of this land,
1098 Methinks I should not thus be led along,
1099 Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back,
1100 And follow'd with a rabble that rejoice
1101 To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.
1102 The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet,
1103 And when I start, the envious people laugh
1104 And bid me be advised how I tread.
1105 Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke?
1106 Trow'st thou that e'er I'll look upon the world,
1107 Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?
1108 No; dark shall be my light and night my day;
1109 To think upon my pomp shall be my hell.
1110 Sometimes I'll say, I am Duke Humphrey's wife,
1111 And he a prince and ruler of the land;
1112 Yet so he rul'd and such a prince he was
1113 As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,
1114 Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock
1115 To every idle rascal follower.
1116 But be thou mild and blush not at my shame,
1117 Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death
1118 Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will;
1119 For Suffolk, he that can do all in all
1120 With her that hateth thee and hates us all,
1121 And York, and impious Beaufort, that false priest,
1122 Have all lim'd bushes to betray thy wings,
1123 And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee;
1124 But fear not thou until thy foot be snar'd,
1125 Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.
Duke of Gloucester
1126 Ah, Nell, forbear! thou aimest all awry.
1127 I must offend before I be attainted;
1128 And had I twenty times so many foes,
1129 And each of them had twenty times their power,
1130 All these could not procure me any scath
1131 So long as I am loyal, true, and crimeless.
1132 Wouldst have me rescue thee from this reproach?
1133 Why, yet thy scandal were not wip'd away,
1134 But I in danger for the breach of law.
1135 Thy greatest help is quiet, gentle Nell.
1136 I pray thee, sort thy heart to patience;
1137 These few days' wonder will be quickly worn.
[Enter a Herald.]
Herald
1138 I summon your grace to his majesty's parliament,
1139 Holden at Bury the first of this next month.
Duke of Gloucester
1140 And my consent ne'er ask'd herein before!
1141 This is close dealing.—Well, I will be there.—
[Exit Herald.]
Duke of Gloucester
1142 My Nell, I take my leave;—and, master sheriff,
1143 Let not her penance exceed the king's commission.
Sheriff
1144 An 't please your grace, here my commission stays,
1145 And Sir John Stanley is appointed now
1146 To take her with him to the Isle of Man.
Duke of Gloucester
1147 Must you, Sir John, protect my lady here?
Sir John Stanley
1148 So am I given in charge, may 't please your grace.
Duke of Gloucester
1149 Entreat her not the worse in that I pray
1150 You use her well.
1151 The world may laugh again,
1152 And I may live to do you kindness if
1153 You do it her; and so, Sir John, farewell!
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1154 What, gone, my lord, and bid me not farewell!
Duke of Gloucester
1155 Witness my tears, I cannot stay to speak.
[Exeunt Gloster and Servingmen.]
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1156 Art thou gone too? all comfort go with thee!
1157 For none abides with me; my joy is death,
1158 Death, at whose name I oft have been afeard,
1159 Because I wish'd this world's eternity.—
1160 Stanley, I prithee, go, and take me hence;
1161 I care not whither, for I beg no favour,
1162 Only convey me where thou art commanded.
Sir John Stanley
1163 Why, madam, that is to the Isle of Man;
1164 There to be us'd according to your state.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1165 That's bad enough, for I am but reproach;
1166 And shall I then be us'd reproachfully?
Sir John Stanley
1167 Like to a duchess, and Duke Humphrey's lady;
1168 According to that state you shall be us'd.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1169 Sheriff, farewell, and better than I fare,
1170 Although thou hast been conduct of my shame.
Sheriff
1171 It is my office; and, madam, pardon me.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1172 Ay, ay, farewell; thy office is discharg'd.—
1173 Come, Stanley, shall we go?
Sir John Stanley
1174 Madam, your penance done, throw off this sheet,
1175 And go we to attire you for our journey.
Eleanor, Duchess of Gloucester
1176 My shame will not be shifted with my sheet;
1177 No, it will hang upon my richest robes
1178 And show itself, attire me how I can.
1179 Go, lead the way; I long to see my prison.
[Exeunt.]

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Notes

TLN 1075archaic vocab
“Uneath may she endure the flinty streets”
'Uneath' means 'with difficulty; hardly; scarcely' — an archaic adverb still current in Shakespeare's time. Gloucester means Eleanor will barely be able to endure walking barefoot over the hard cobblestones.
TLN 1077archaic vocab
“ill can thy noble mind abrook”
'Abrook' means 'to endure or put up with.' The line means: your proud, noble spirit can hardly stand the humiliation of common people gaping at you. The prefix 'a-' intensifying 'brook' (to tolerate) is a now-obsolete formation.
TLN 1084cultural context
“we'll take her from the sheriff”
Eleanor enters 'in a white sheet' with a burning taper — the standard costume of public penance in medieval and Tudor England. A convicted penitent walked barefoot through public streets in an undyed or white garment, carrying a lit candle as a symbol of contrition, to be seen and mocked by the crowd. The earlier stage direction specifies this ritual costume and circumstance; the sheriff supervised the procession. Eleanor did this public penance historically in 1441.
historical Eleanor Cobham and the Witchcraft Trial
TLN 1099archaic vocab
“Mail'd up in shame, with papers on my back”
'Mail'd up' means 'wrapped up' or 'enclosed, as in a bag or bundle' — from the Old French 'maille,' a travelling bag or satchel. Eleanor pictures herself bundled into her shame like goods packed in a bag. 'Papers on my back' refers to the written bill of her crimes that was attached to a penitent's clothing during public procession so onlookers could read her offences.
TLN 1101archaic vocab
“my deep-fet groans”
'Fet' is the past participle of 'fetch'; 'deep-fet' means 'deep-fetched' — drawn up from deep within the body. The phrase describes groans wrenched from the very depths of grief, as though hauled up from the chest.
TLN 1108rhetorical device
“dark shall be my light and night my day; To think upon my pomp shall be my hell”
Eleanor states her sentence of inner exile in two sharp antitheses — dark/light and night/day — and then names her punishment: to remember her former 'pomp' (splendor, public power) as torture. This is the de casibus pattern: the fall from glory is not only material but psychological, and the memory of greatness becomes its own hell.
classical Fortune and her wheelhistorical The fall of princes (de casibus tragedy)
TLN 1122rhetorical device
“lim'd bushes to betray thy wings, And, fly thou how thou canst, they'll tangle thee”
Eleanor uses the image of bird-liming to warn Gloucester: Suffolk, York, and Cardinal Beaufort have coated every branch with sticky lime to trap him. 'Bird-lime' was a thick, gluey substance smeared on branches to catch small birds by their feet. No matter how cleverly a bird flew, it could not avoid the lime-smeared twigs set all around it — so Gloucester cannot escape the conspiracy laid against him by dodging individual moves.
historical Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester ('Good Duke Humphrey')
TLN 1127archaic vocab
“I must offend before I be attainted”
'Attainted' is the legal term for being formally convicted of a felony or treason, with the result that all property and civil rights are forfeited and 'blood is corrupted' — meaning the conviction also disqualifies one's heirs. Gloucester insists he cannot be legally destroyed unless he actually commits a crime first; his integrity is his only shield.
historical Humphrey, Duke of Gloucester ('Good Duke Humphrey')
TLN 1146historical topical
“To take her with him to the Isle of Man”
The Isle of Man, a small island in the Irish Sea between England and Ireland, was a remote jurisdiction outside the normal reach of the English court. Sending Eleanor there as a prisoner reflects her historical sentence: after her public penance in London she was committed to custody on the island under guard. The Stanley family held the lordship of Man, which is why Sir John Stanley is the officer appointed to escort and guard her.
historical Eleanor Cobham and the Witchcraft Trial
TLN 1176wordplay
“My shame will not be shifted with my sheet; No, it will hang upon my richest robes”
Eleanor plays on two senses of 'shifted': (1) 'changed,' as in changing one's shirt or shift (a garment), and (2) 'removed' or 'transferred.' Her penance costume — the white sheet — can be exchanged for fine clothes, but the shame it represented cannot be shed with it. The pun uses 'sheet' and 'shift' (both garments) to make the point that disgrace sticks to the body beneath any outfit.