Delivered up again with peaceful words? *

York. France fhould have torn and rent my very heart, Before I would have yielded to this league.

I never read but England's Kings have had
Large fums of gold, and dowries with their wives:
And our King Henry gives away his own,

To match with her that brings no vantages.
Glou. A proper jeft, and never heard before,
That Suffolk fhould demand a whole fifteenth,
For coft and charges in transporting her :

She should have ftaid in France, and starv'd in France,
Before-

Car. My Lord of Glo'fter, now ye grow too hot:
It was the pleasure of my Lord the King.

Glou. My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind.
'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike,
But 'tis my presence that doth trouble you.
Rancour will out, proud Prelate; in thy face
I fee thy fury: if I longer stay,

We fhall begin our ancient bickerings.
Lordings, farewel, and say when I am gone,
I prophefy'd, France will be loft ere long.
Car. So, there goes our Protector in a rage:
'Tis known to you he is mine enemy;
Nay more, an enemy unto you all,

And no great friend, I fear me, to the King.
Confider, Lords, he is the next of blood,
And heir apparent to the English crown.
Had Henry got an empire by his marriage,
And all the wealthy kingdoms of the weft,
There's reafon he should be difpleas'd at it.
Look to it, Lords, let not his fmoothing words
Bewitch your hearts, be wife and circumfpect.
What though the common people favour him,
Calling him Humphry, the good Duke of Glo'fter,
Clapping their hands and crying with loud voice,

peaceful words?

York. For Suffolk's Duke, may he be fuffocate, That dims the honour of this warlike ifle: France fhould, &c,

[Exit.

Jefu

Jefu maintain your Royal Excellence,

With, God preferve the good Duke Humphry?
I fear me, Lords, for all this flattering glofs,
He will be found a dangerous Protector.

Buck. Why should he then protect our Sovereign,
He being of age to govern of himself?
Coufin of Somerfet, join you with me,
And all together with the Duke of Suffolk,
We'll quickly hoife Duke Humphry from his feat.
Car. This weighty business will not brook delay.
I'll to the Duke of Suffolk prefently.

{Exit. Som. Coufin of Buckingham, though Humphry's pride

And greatness of his place be grief to us,
Yet let us watch the haughty Cardinal:
His infolence is more intolerable

Than all the Princes in the land befide:
If Glofter be difplac'd, he'll be Protector.
Buck. Or Somerfet or I will be Protector,
Defpight Duke Humphry, or the Cardinal.

[Exeunt Buckingham and Somerset.
Sal. Pride went before, Ambition follows him.
While thefe do labour for their own preferment,
Behoves it us to labour for the realm.

I never faw but Humphry Duke of Glofter
Did bear him like a noble gentleman:

Oft have I seen the haughty Cardinal
More like a foldier than a man o'th' church,
As ftout and proud as he were lord of all,
Swear like a ruffian, and demean himself
Unlike the ruler of a common-weal.
Warwick my fon, the comfort of my age!
Thy deeds, thy plainnefs, and thy houfe-keeping,
Have won the greateft favour of the Commons,
Excepting none but good Duke Humphry.
And brother York, thy acts in Ireland,
In bringing them to civil difcipline;

Thy late exploits done in the heart of France,
When thou wert Regent for our Sovereign;
Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people.
Join we together for the publick good,

In what we can to bridle and fupprefs
The pride of Suffolk, and the Cardinal,
With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition;
And as we may, cherish Duke Humphry's deeds,
While they do tend the profit of the land.

War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
And common profit of his country!

York. And fo fays York, for he hath greatest cause. Sal. Then let's make hafte, and look unto the main." [Exeunt Warwick and Salisbury.

SCENE III. Manet York,

York. Anjou and Maine are given to the French,
Paris is loft, the ftate of Normandy

Stands on a tickle point,, now they are gone:
Suffolk concluded on the articles,

The Peers agreed, and Henry was well pleas'd
To change two Dukedoms for a Duke's fair daughter.
I cannot blame them all, what is't to them?
'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
Pirates may make cheap penn'worths of their pillage,
And purchase friends and give to courtezans,
Still revelling like Lords 'till all be gone :
While as the filly owner of the goods

Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands,
And fhakes his head, and trembling ftands aloof,
While all is fhar'd, and all is born away;
Ready to starve, and dares not touch his own.
So York must fit, and fret, and bite his tongue;
While his own lands are bargain'd for, and fold.
Methinks the realms of England, France, and Ireland,
Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood,

As did the fatal brand Althea burnt,
Unto the Prince's heart of Calydon.

Anjou and Maine both given unto the French!
Cold news for me: for I had hope of France,

- unto the main,

War. Unto the main? Oh father, Maine is loft, That Maine, which by main force Warwick did win, And would have kept, fo long as breath did laft: Main chance, father, you meant, but I meant Main, Which I will win from France, or elfe be flain.

Ev'n as I have of fertile England's foil.

A day will come when York fhall claim his own,
And therefore I will take the Nevills' parts,
And make a fhew of love to proud Duke Humphry ;
And when I fpy advantage, claim the crown;
For that's the golden mark I seek to hit.
Nor fhall proud Lancaster ufurp my right,
Nor hold the scepter in his childish fist,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,

Whofe church-like humour fits not for a crown.
Then, York, be ftill a while, 'till time do ferve:
Watch thou, and wake when others be afleep,
To pry into the secrets of the State;
'Till Henry furfeit in the joys of love,

With his new bride and England's dear-bought Queen,
And Humphry with the Peers be fall'n at jars.
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rofe,
With whose sweet smell the air fhall be perfum'd';
And in my standard bear the arms of York,
To grapple with the house of Lancaster;
And force perforce I'll make him yield the crown,
Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.

[Exit York. SCENE IV. The Duke of Gloucefter's boufe.

Enter Duke Humphry, and his Wife Eleanor.
Elean. Why droops my Lord, like over-ripen'd corn
Hanging the head with Ceres' plenteous load?
Why doth the great Duke Humphry knit his brows,
As frowning at the favours of the world?
Why are thine eyes fixt to the fullen earth,
Gazing at that which feems to dim thy fight?
What feeft thou there? King Henry's diadem,
Inchas'd with all the honours of the world?
If fo, gaze on, and grovel on thy face,
Until thy head be circled with the fame.
Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold:
What, is't too fhort? I'll lengthen it with mine.
And having both together heav'd it up,
We'll both together lift our heads to heaven;
And never more abafe our fight fo low,

As

As to vouchfafe one glance unto the ground.

Glou. O Nell, fweet Nell, if thou doft love thy Lord, Banifh the canker of ambitious thoughts: And may that thought, when I imagine ill Against my King and nephew virtuous Henry, Be my last breathing in this mortal world! My troublous dreams this night do make me fad.

Elean. What dream'd my Lord? tell me, and I'll requite it With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.

Glou. Methought this ftaff, mine office-badge in Court,
Was broke in twain; by whom, I have forgot;
But, as I think, it was by th' Cardinal;
And on the pieces of the broken wand

Were plac'd the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerfet,
And William de la Pole firft Duke of Suffolk.

This was the dream; what it doth bode, God knows.
Elean. Tut, this was nothing but an argument
That he that breaks a stick of Glo'fter's grove,
Shall lofe his head for his prefumption.

But lift to me, my Humphry, my fweet Duke :
Methought I fat in feat of Majefty,

In the cathedral church of Westminster,

And in that chair where Kings and Queens are crown'd; Where Henry and Margaret kneel'd to me,

And on my head did fet the diadem.

Glou. Nay, Eleanor, then muft I chide outright :
Prefumptuous dame, ill-natur'd Eleanor,
Art thou not second woman in the realm,
And the Protector's wife, belov'd of him?
Haft thou not worldly pleasure at command,
Above the reach or compafs of thy thought?
And wilt thou ftill be hammering treachery,
To tumble down thy husband and thy felf
From top of honour to difgrace's feet?
Away from me, and let me hear no more!

Elean. What, what, my Lord, are you fo cholerick
With Eleanor, for telling but her dream?
Next time I'll keep my dreams unto my self,

And not be check'd,

VOL, VI,