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Som. Cousin of Buckingham though Humphry's Pride And greatness of his place be Grief to us, Yet let us watch the haughey Cardinal: His Infolence is more intolerable Than all the Princes in the Land beside; If Glo'stër be displac’d, he'll be Protector.

Buck. Qr thou, or I, Somerset, will be Protector, Despight Duke Humphry, or the Cardinal.

[Ex. Buckingham and Somerset. Sal. Pride went before, Ambition follows him. While these do labour for their own Proferment, 1 Behoves it us to labour for the Realm.

I never saw but Humphing Duke of Glofter,
Did bear him like a noble Gentleman:
Oft have I seen the haughty Cardinal,
More like a Soldier than a Man o'th' Church,
As stout and proud as he were Lord of all,
Swear like a Ruffian, and demean himself
Unlike the Ruler of a Common-weal.
Warwick my Son, the Comfort of my Age,
Thy Deeds, thy Plainness, and thy House keeping,
Have won the greatest Favour of the Commons;
Excepting none but Good Duke Humphry.
And Brother York, thy Acts in Ireland,
In bringing them to civil Discipline;
Thy late Exploits done in the Heart of France,
When thou wert Regent for our Sovereign,
Have made thee feard and honour'd of the Peoples
Join we together for the publick Good,
In what we can, to bridle and suppress
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 so says York, For he hath greatest Cause.

Sal. Then let's make halte away, And look unto the main.


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War. Unto the main?
Oh Father, Main is lost,
That Main, which by main Force, Warwick did win,
And would have kept, so long as Breath did laft:
Main-chance, Father, you meant, but I meant Main,
Which I will win from France, or else be slain.

[Ex. Warwick and Salisbury. Manet York.
York. Anjou and Main are given to the French,
Paris is loft, the State of Normandy
Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: 1;
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.

may make cheap pennyworths of their Pillage,
And purchase Friends, and give to Curtezans,
Still revelling like Lords 'till all be gone.
While as the filly Owner of the Goods
Weeps over them, and wrings bis hapless Hands,
And shakes his Head, and trembling stands aloof,
While all is shar'd, and all is born away,
Ready to farve, and dare not touch his own.
So York must fit, and fret, and bite his Tongue,
While his own Lands are bargain'd for, and sold:
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 Calidon:
Anjou and Main 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 Nevills parts,
And make a shew 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 Mall proud Lancaster usurp my Right,
Nor hold the Scepter in his childith Fist,
Nor wear the Diadem upon his Head,
Whose Church-like Humour fits not for a Crown.


Then York be still a while, 'till Time do ferve:
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 Humphry with the Peers be fall'n at Jars.
Then will I raise aloft the Milk-white 'Rose,
With whose fweet 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 pulld fair England down.

[Exit York.
Enter Duke Humphry, and his Wife Eleanor.
Elean. Why droops my Lord, like over-ripen'd Corn,
Hanging the Head at Ceres plentcous Load:
Why doth the great Duke Humphry knit his Brows,
As frowning at the Favours of the World?
Why are thine

fixt to the fullen Earth,
Gazing at that which seems to dim thy Sight?
What feest thou there? King Henry's Diadem,
Inchac'd with all the Honours of the World?
If so, 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'e coo mort? IH lengthen it with mine.
And having both together heav'd it up,
We'll both lift our Heads to Heaven,
And never more abafe our Sight fo low,
As co vouchsafe one glance unto the Ground.

Glo. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy Lord,
Banish the Canker of Ambitious Thoughts:

thac Thought, when I imagine Ill
Againit my King and Nephew, virtuous Henry,
Be my last breathing in this Mortal World.
My troublous Dreams this Night do make me sad.

Elean. What dream'd 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, 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 Edmond, Duke of Somerset,
And William de la Pole, first 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 Gloffer's Grove,
Shall lose his Head for his Presumption.
But list to me, my Humphry, my sweet Duke:
Methought I fate in Seat of Majesty,
In the Cathedral Church of Westminster,
Aad in that Chair where Kings and Queens were crown'd,
Where Henry and Margaret kneelid to me,
And on my Head did let the Diadem.

Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright:
Presumptuous 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 compass of thy Thought?
And wilt thou still be hammering Treachery,
To tumble down thy Husband and thy self,
From top of Honour, to Disgrace'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.
Glo. Nay, be not angry, I am pleas'd again,

Enter Messenger.
Mel. My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highness Pleasure,
You do prepare to ride unto St. Albans,
Whereas the King and Queen do mean to Hawk.
Glo. I go: Come Nell, thou wilt ride with us?

[Ex. Glo.
Elean. Yes, my good Lord, I'll follow presentiy.
Follow I must, I cannot go before,
While Gloster bears this base and humble Mind,
Were I a Man, a Duke, and next of Blood,
I would remove these tedious stumbling Blocks,


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And smooth my way upon their headless Necks.
And being a Woman, I will not be Nack
To play my part in Fortune's Pageant.
Where are you there? Sir John; nay fear not, Man,
We are alone, here's none but thee and I.

Enter Hume.
Hume. Jesus preserve your Royal Majesty.
Elean. What lay'st thou? Majesty : I am but Grace.

Hume. But by the Grace of God, and Hume's Advice, *Your Grace's Title fhall be multiply'd,

Elean. What say't thou, Man? Halt thou as yet conferr'd With Margery Fordan, the cunning Witch; With Roger Bullingbrook, the Conjurer, And will they undertake to do me good?

Hume. This they have promised to thew your Highness
A Spirit rais’d from depth of under Ground,
That shall make answer to such Questions,
As by your Grace shall be propounded bim.

Elean. It is enough, I'll think upon the Questions:
When from St. Albans we do make return;
We'll see those things effected to the full.
Here Hume, take this Reward, make merry Man
With thy Confederates in this weighty Cause.

[Exit Eleanor.
Himme. Hume must make merry with the Dutchess's Gold:
Marry and shall; but how now, Sir John Hume?
Seal up your Lips, and give no Words, but Mum;
The business asketh silent secrecy.
Dame Eleanor gives Gold, 'to bring the Witch: 1
Gold cannot come amiss, were she a Devil.
Yet have I Gold flies from another Coaft:
I dare not say, from the rich Cardinal,
And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk ;
"Yet I do find it fo: For, to be plain,
They (knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring Humour)
Have bired me to undermine the Dutchefs,
And buz these Conjurations in her Brain. 11
They say, a crafty Knave does need no Broker;
"Yet am I Suffolk's, and the Cardinal's Broker.
Hmme. if you take not heed, you Mall go near
To call them both a pair of crafty Knaves.


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