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* There's reason he should be displeased at it.
* Look to it, lords; let not his smoothing word
* Bewitch your hearts; be wise, and circumspect. 4 What though the common people favor him,
4 Calling him—Humphrey, the good duke of Gloster;
4 Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice—
4 Jesu maintain your royal excellence!
4 With—God preserve the good duke Humphrey!
4 I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
4 He will be found a dangerous protector.
* Buck. Why should he then protect our sovereign, *He being of age to govern of himself?
4 Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
4 And all together—with the duke of Suffolk,—
4 We'll quickly hoise duke Humphrey from his seat.
* Car. This weighty business will not brook delay;
* I'll to the duke of Suffolk presently. [Exit.
4 Som. Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride, 4 And greatness of his place, be grief to us, 4. Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal: 4 His insolence is more intolerable 4 Than all the princes in the land beside; 4 If Gloster be displaced, he'll be protector.
Buck. Or thou, or I, Somerset, will be protector,
* Despite duke Humphrey, or the cardinal.
[Exeunt Buckingham and Somerset. Sal. Pride went before, ambition follows him. 4 While these do labor for their own preferment, 4 Behooves it us to labor for the realm, 4 I never saw but Humphrey duke of Gloster 4 Did bear him like a noble gentleman. 4 Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal— 4 More like a soldier, than a man o' the church, 4 As stout, and proud, as he were lord of all,— 4 Swear like a ruffian, and demean himself 4 Unlike the ruler of a common-weal.— 4 Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age! 4 Thy deeds, thy plainness, and thy house-keeping, 4 Hath won the greatest favor of the commons,
4 Excepting none but good duke Humphrey.—
< Thy late exploits, done in the heart of France,
< When thou wert regent for our sovereign,
c Have made thee feared and honored of the people :—
'Join we together, for the public good;
6 In what we can to bridle and suppress
6 The pride of Suffolk, and the cardinal,
- With Somerset's and Buckingham's ambition;
'And, as we may, cherish duke Humphrey's deeds,
1 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 so says York, for he hath greatest
cause. Sal. Then let's make haste away, and look unto
the main. War. Unto the main! O, father, Maine is lost; That Maine, which by main force Warwick did win,
* And would have kept, so long as breath did last. Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine; Which I will win from France, or else be slain.
[Exeunt Warwick and Salisbury. York. Anjou and Maine are given to the French;
* Paris is lost; the state of Normandy
* Stands on a tickle3 point, now they are gone;
* Suffolk concluded on the articles;
* The peers agreed; and Henry was well pleased
* To change two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter. *I cannot blame them all; whatis't to them? *5Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
1 Richard Plantagenet, duke of York, married Cicely, the daughter of Ralf Neville, earl of Westmoreland, by Joan, daughter to John of Gaunt, duke of Lancaster, by his third wife, dame Catherine Swinford. Richard Neville, earl of Salisbury, was son to the earl of Westmoreland by a second wife. He married Alice, only daughter of Thomas Montacute, earl of Salisbury, who was killed at the siege of Orleans (see Part I. of this play, Act i. Sc. 3.), and in consequence of that alliance obtained the title of Salisbury in 1428. His eldest son, Richard, having married the sister and heir of Henry Beauchamp, earl of Warwick, was created earl of Warwick, 1449.
2 This is an anachronism. The present scene is in 1445; but Richard, duke of York, was not viceroy of Ireland till 1449.
3 Tickle is frequently used for ticklish, by ancient writers.
* Pirates may make cheap, pennyworths of their pillage,
* And purchase friends, and give to courtesans,
* Still revelling, like lords, till all be gone;
* While as the silly owner of the goods
* Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands,
* And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloof,
* While all is shared, and all is borne away;
* Ready to starve, and dare not touch his own;
* So York must sit, and fret, and bite his tongue,
* While his own lands are bargained for, and sold. *Methinks the realms of England, France, and
* Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood,
* As did the fatal brand Althea burned,
* Unto the prince's heart of Calydon.1
Anjou and Maine, both given unto the French!
Cold news for me; for I had hope of France,
Even as I have of fertile England's soil.
A day will come, when York shall claim his own;
And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts,
And make a show of love to proud duke Humphrey,
And, when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
For that's the golden mark I seek to hit.
Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
Nor hold his sceptre in his childish fist,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
Whose church-like humors fit not for a crown.
Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve;
Watch thou, and wake, when others be asleep,
To pry into the secrets of the state;
Till Henry, surfeiting in joys of love,
With his new bride, and England's dear-bought
queen, And Humphrey with the peers be fallen at jars; Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
1 Meleager; whose life was to continue only so long as a certain firebrand should last His mother, Althea, having thrown it into the fire, he expired in torment.
With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed;
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 pulled fair England down.
SCENE II. The same. A Room in the Duke of Gloster's House.
Enter Gloster and the Duchess.
Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripened corn, Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load?
* Why doth the great duke Humphrey knit his brows,
* As frowning at the favors of the wrorld?
* Why are thine eyes fixed to the sullen earth,
* Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight!
'What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem,
* Enchased with all the honors of the world?
* If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face,
* Until thy head be circled with the same.
'Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold ;■— 'What, is't too short? I'll lengthen it with mine;
* And having both together heaved it up,
* We'll both together lift our heads to heaven;
* And never more abase our sight so low,
* As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
'Glo. O, Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, 4 Banish 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 dream this night doth make me sad.
< Duch. What dreamed my lord? Tell me, and I'll requite it
< With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.
'Glo. Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court,
4 Was broke in twain; by whom, I have forgot,
4 But, as I think, it was by the cardinal;
4 And on the pieces of the broken wand
4 Were placed the heads of Edmond duke of Somerset,
4 And William de la Poole, first duke of Suffolk.
4 This was my dream; what it doth bode, God knows.
4 Duch. Tut, this was nothing but an argument, That he that breaks a stick of Gloster's grove, 4 Shall lose his head for his presumption. 4 But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke. 4 Me thought I sat in seat of majesty, 4 In the cathedral church of Westminster, 4 And in that chair where kings and queens are
crowned; 4 Where Henry, and dame Margaret, kneeled to me, 4 And on my head did set the diadem.
4 Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright:
* Presumptuous dame, ill-nurtured Eleanor! Art thou not second woman in the realm; And the protector's wife, beloved of him?
* Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command,
* Above the reach or compass of thy thought? And wilt thou still be hammering treachery,
* To tumble down thy husband, and thyself,
* From top of honor to disgrace's feet? Away from me, and let me hear no more.
4 Duch. What, what, my lord! are you so choleric, 4 With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? 4 Next time Pll keep my dreams unto myself, 4 And not be checked.
4 Glo. Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.
Enter a Messenger.
4 Mess. My lord protector, 'tis his highness' pleasure, 4 You do prepare to ride unto Saint Albans, 4 Whereas 1 the king and queen do mean to hawk.
Glo. I go.—Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
1 Whereas for ivhere.