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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. [Afide. Sal. Then let's make hafte, and look 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 last: Main chance, father, you meant; but I meant Maine, Which I will win from France, or elfe be flain.

[Exeunt Warwick and Salisbury.


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 shakes his head, and trembling ftands aloof,
While all is fhared, and all is borne away,
Ready to ftarve, 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 giv'n unto the French!
Cold news for me, for I had hope of France,
Ev'n as I have of fertile England's foil,

A day will come, when York shall 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 feek to hit.
Nor fhall proud Lancafter ufurp my right,
Nor hold the fcepter in his childish fift,
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, furfeiting 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 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


Changes to the Duke of Gloucester's Houfe.

Enter Duke Humphry, and his Wife Eleanor.


HY droops my Lord, like over-ripen'd



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 the 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 abase our fight fo low,
As to vouchfafe one glance unto the ground.

Glo. 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.

Glo. Methought, this Staff, mine office-badge in

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 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 Glofter's grove,
Shall lofe his head for his Prefumption.

But lift to me, my Humphry, my fweet Duke;
Methought, I fat in feat of Majesty,

In the Cathedral church of Westminster,

And in that chair where Kings and Queens were crown'd, Where Henry and Margret kneel'd to me,

And on my head did fet the Diadem.

Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright.


Prefumptuous Dame, ill-nurtur'd Eleanor,
Art thou not fecond 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 thyfelf,
From top of honour to difgrace's feet?
Away from me, and let me hear no more.

Elean. What, what, my Lord! are you so cholerick With Eleanor, for telling but her dream? Next time, I'll keep my dreams unto myself, And not be check'd.

Glo. Nay, be not angry, I am pleas❜d again.

Enter Meffenger.

Mef. 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?
Elean. Yes, my good Lord, I'll follow presently.
[Exit Gloucefter
Follow I muft, I cannot go before,
While Glofter bears this bafe and humble mind.
Were I a man, a Duke, and next of blood,
I would remove these tedious ftumbling-blocks;
And smooth my way upon their headless necks.
And being a woman, I will not be flack
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. Jefus preferve your Royal Majefty!
Elean. What fay'ft thou? Majefty? 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 fay'ft thou, man? haft thou as yet conferr'd

With Margery Jordan, the cunning witch;
And Roger Bolingbrook the conjurer,
And will they undertake to do me good?

Hume. This they have promifed, to fhew your

A Spirit rais'd from depth of under-ground,
That fhall make answer to fuch questions,
As by your Grace fhall be propounded him.
Elean. It is enough, I'll think upon the questions.
When from St. Albans we do make return,
We'll fee thofe things effected to the full.

Here, Hume, take this reward. Make merry, man,
With thy confederates in this weighty cause.

[Exit Eleanor. Hum. Hume muft make merry with the Dutchess'

Marry, and fhall. But how now, Sir John Hume?
Seal up your lips, and give no words, but mum !
The business afketh filent fecrecy.

Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch,
Gold cannot come amifs, were she a devil.
Yet have I gold, flies from another coaft,
I dare not fay 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 hired me to undermine the Dutchess;
And buz thefe conjurations in her brain.
They fay, a crafty knave does need no broker;
Yet am I Suffolk's, and the Cardinal's, broker.
-Hume, If you take not heed, you fhall go near
To call them both a pair of crafty knaves.
-Well, fo it ftands; and thus I fear at laft,
Hume's knavery will be the dutchess' wreck,


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