_Glou._ Thus sometimes hath the brightest day a cloud; And after summer evermore succeeds Barren winter, with his wrathful nipping cold:   [bbd003] So cares and joys abound, as seasons fleet.   [bbd004] Sirs, what’s o’clock? _Serv._ Ten, my lord.   [bbd005] _Glou._ Ten is the hour that was appointed me To watch the coming of my punish’d duchess: Uneath may she endure the flinty streets, To tread them with her tender-feeling feet. Sweet Nell, ill can thy noble mind abrook   ·bbd010· The abject people gazing on thy face,   [bbd011] With envious looks, laughing at thy shame,   [bbd012] That erst did follow thy proud chariot-wheels When thou didst ride in triumph through the streets. But, soft! I think she comes; and I’ll prepare   ·bbd015· My tear-stain’d eyes to see her miseries.   [bbd016] _Enter the_ DUCHESS OF GLOUCESTER _in a white sheet, and a taper burning in her hand; with_ SIR JOHN STANLEY, _the_ Sheriff, _and_ Officers. _Serv._ So please your grace, we’ll take her from the sheriff. _Glou._ No, stir not, for your lives; let her pass by. _Duch._ Come you, my lord, to see my open shame? Now thou dost penance too. Look how they gaze!   ·bbd020· See how the giddy multitude do point, And nod their heads, and throw their eyes on thee! Ah, Gloucester, hide thee from their hateful looks, And, in thy closet pent up, rue my shame, And ban thine enemies, both mine and thine!   [bbd025] _Glou._ Be patient, gentle Nell; forget this grief. _Duch._ Ah, Gloucester, teach me to forget myself! For whilst I think I am thy married wife And thou a prince, protector of this land, Methinks I should not thus be led along,   ·bbd030· Mail’d up in shame, with papers on my back, And follow’d with a rabble that rejoice To see my tears and hear my deep-fet groans.   [bbd033] The ruthless flint doth cut my tender feet, And when I start, the envious people laugh   ·bbd035· And bid me be advised how I tread. Ah, Humphrey, can I bear this shameful yoke? Trow’st thou that e’er I’ll look upon the world, Or count them happy that enjoy the sun?   [bbd039] No; dark shall be my light and night my day;   ·bbd040· To think upon my pomp shall be my hell. Sometime I’ll say, I am Duke Humphrey’s wife, And he a prince and ruler of the land: Yet so he ruled and such a prince he was As he stood by whilst I, his forlorn duchess,   [bbd045] Was made a wonder and a pointing-stock To every idle rascal follower. But be thou mild and blush not at my shame, Nor stir at nothing till the axe of death Hang over thee, as, sure, it shortly will;   ·bbd050· For Suffolk--he that can do all in all With her that hateth thee and hates us all-- And York and impious Beaufort, that false priest, Have all limed bushes to betray thy wings,   [bbd054] And, fly thou how thou canst, they’ll tangle thee:   ·bbd055· But fear not thou, until thy foot be snared, Nor never seek prevention of thy foes.