And, brother York, thy acts in Ireland, In bringing them to civil difcipline; Thy late exploits done in the heart of France, Have made thee fear'd and honour'd of the people. In what we can, to bridle and fupprefs The pride of Suffolk, and the Cardinal, War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land, And common profit of his country! York. And fo fays York, for he hath greateft caufe. [Afide. Sal. Then let's make hafte, and look unto the main.* [Exe. 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, Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands, -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 laft: Main chance, father, you meant; bu. I meant Maine, Which I will win from France, or else be flain. Exeunt, &c. While his own lands are bargain'd for, and fold. Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. Anjou and Maine, both giv'n unto the French! A day will come when York fhall claim his own; Whofe church-like humour fits not for a crown. Till Henry, furfeiting in joys of love With his new bride, and England's dear-bought Queen, Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose, SCENE IV. Changes to the Duke of Gloucefter's houfe. 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 fix'd 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, With fweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. Glo. Methought this ftaff, mine office-badge in court, Were place'd the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset, 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. Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then muft 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 pleafure 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 Away from me, and let me hear no more. Elean. What, what! my Lord! are you so choleric 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 Messenger. Me. My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highness' pleasure, You do prepare to ride unto St. Alban's, Whereas the King and Queen do mean to hawk. Glo. I go: come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? [Exit Gloucester. Elean. Yes, my good Lord, I'll follow presently. Follow I muit; I cannot go before, While Glo'fter bears this base and humble mind. Where are you there? Sir John! nay, fear not, man, Enter Hume. Hume. Jefus preferve your Royal Majefty! Elean. What fay'ft 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 fay'st thou, man? haft thou as yet conWith Margery Jordan the cunning witch, [ferr'd Hume. This they have promised to fhew your High And Roger Bolingbrook the conjurer? And will they undertake to do me good? A fpirit rais'd from depth of under-ground, That fhall make answer to fuch questions As by your Grace fhall be propounded him. [nefs Elean. It is enough, I'll think upon the questions. When from St. Alban's we do make return, We'll fee thofe things effected to the full. Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man, With With thy confederates in this weighty caufe. [Exit Eleanor, Hume. Hume must make merry with the Duchels' gold: Marry, and fhall: but how now, Sir John Hume? Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch. And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, They (knowing Dame Eleanor's afpiring humour) SCENE V. Changes to an apartment in the palace. Enter three or four Petitioners, Peter the armourer's man being one. 1 Pet. My mafters, let's ftand clofe; my Lord Protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our fupplications in the quill. 2 Pet. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man; Jefu bless him! Enter Suffolk, and Queen. Pet. Here a' comes, methinks, and the Queen with him. I'll be the firit, fure. 2 Pet. Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my Lord Protector. Suf. How now, fellow, would't any thing with me? * Pet. |