SCENE 1. London. A Room of State in the Palace.

Flourish of Trumpets: then Hautboys. Enter, on one side, King Henry, Duke of Gloster, Salisbury, Warwick, and Cardinal Beaufort; on the other, Queen Margaret, led in by Suffolk; York, Somerset, Buckingham, and others, following.

Suffolk.

AS by your high imperial majesty

I had in charge at my depart for France, As procurator to your excellence, To marry princess Margaret for your grace; So, in the famous ancient city, Tours, In presence of the kings of France and Sicil, The dukes of Orleans, Calaber, Bretaigne, and Alençon,

Seven earls, twelve barons, and twenty reverend bishops,

I have perform'd my task, and was espous'd: | And humbly now upon my bended knee,

In sight of England and her lordly peers,
Deliver up my title in the queen

To your most gracious hands, that are the sub

stance

Of that great shadow I did represent;
The happiest gift that ever marquess gave,
The fairest queen that ever king receiv'd.
King Henry.

[life,

Suffolk, arise.-Welcome, queen Margaret: I can express no kinder sign of love, Than this kind kiss.- O Lord! that lends me Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness; For thou hast given me, in this beauteous face, A world of earthly blessings to my soul, If sympathy of love unite our thoughts. Queen Margaret.

Great king of England, and my gracious lord, The mutual conference that my mind hath had By day, by night, waking, and in my dreams, In courtly company, or at my beads, With you mine alderlievest sovereign, Makes me the bolder to salute my king With ruder terms, such as my wit affords, And over-joy of heart doth minister.

King

And no great friend, I fear me, to the king.
Consider, 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 west,
There's reason he should be displeas'd at it.
Look to it, lords: let not his smoothing words
Bewitch your hearts; be wise, and circumspect.
What though the common people favour him,
Calling him "Humphrey the good duke of
Gloster;"

Clapping their hands, and crying with loud

voice

Somerset.

Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride,

And greatness of his place be grief to us,
Yet let us watch the haughty cardinal.
His insolence is more intolerable
Than all the princes in the land beside:
If Gloster be displac'd, he'll be protector.
Buckingham.

Or thou, or I, Somerset, will be protector,
Despite duke Humphrey, or the cardinal.
[Exeunt Buckingham and Somerset
Salisbury.

Pride went before, ambition follows him. While these do labour for their own preferment,

Behoves it us to labour for the realm.

1 never saw but Humphrey, duke of Gloster,
Did bear him like a noble gentleman.
Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal,
More like a soldier, than a man o' the 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 Humphrey :-
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 fear'd, and honour'd, of the
people.-

Join we together, for the public 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 Humphrey's deeds,
While they do tend the profit of the land.

Warwick.

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.

Paris is lost: the state of Normandy
Anjou and Maine are given to the French;
Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone.
The peers agreed, and Henry was well pleas'd,
Suffolk concluded on the articles,
To change two dukedoms for a duke's fait
daughter.

I cannot blame them all: what is't to them?
'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their
pillage,

And purchase friends, and give to courtezans,
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 shar'd, 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 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 burn'd,
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,
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 Hum-
phrey.

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 the sceptre in his childish fist,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
Whose church-like humours 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
And Humphrey with the peers be fall'n at jars:
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
With whose sweet smell the air shall be per-
fum'd,

[queen,

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
[down.

crown,

Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England Exit.

What seest thou there? king Henry's diadem,
Enchas'd with all the honours 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 heav'd 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.
Gloster.

O Nell! sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
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.

Duchess

What dream'd my lord? tell me, and I'll requite it

With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. Gloster.

Methought, this staff, mine office-badge in court,

Was broke in twain: by whom, I have forgot,
But, as I think, it was by the cardinal;
And on the pieces of the broken wand [set,
Were plac'd the heads of Edmond duke of Somer-
And William de la Poole, first duke of Suffolk.
This was my dream: what it doth bode God
knows.

Duchess.

Tut! this was nothing but an argument, That he that breaks a stick of Gloster's grove, Shall lose his head for his presumption. But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke: Methought, I sat in seat of majesty,

In the cathedral church of Westminster,
And in that chair, where kings and queens were
crown'd;
[me,
Where Henry, and dame Margaret, kneel'd to
And on my head did set the diadem.
Gloster.

Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright.
Presumptuous dame! ill-nurtur'd Eleanor!
Art thou not second woman in the realm,
And the protector's wife, belov'd 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 honour to disgrace's feet?
Away from me, and let me hear no more.

Hume must make merry with the duchess' 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:
Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil.
Yet have I gold flies from another coast:
I dare not say, from the rich cardinal,
And from the great and new-made duke of
Yet I do find it so: for, to be plain, [Suffolk;
They, knowing dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
Have hired me to undermine the duchess,
And buz these conjurations in her brain.
They say, a crafty knave does need no broker;
Yet am I Suffolk, and the cardinal's broker.
Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near
To call them both a pair of crafty knaves.
Well, so it stands; and thus, I fear, at last,
Hume's knavery will be the duchess' wreck,
And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall.
Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.

[Exit.

SCENE 111. The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter Peter, and others, with Petitions.

First Petitioner.

My masters, let's stand close: my lord protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our supplícations in the quill. Second Petitioner. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jesu bless him!

Enter

Would choose him pope, and carry him to Rome,
And set the triple crown upon his head:
That were a state fit for his holiness.
Suffolk.

Madam, be patient: as I was cause

Suffolk.

Queen Margaret.

First Petitioner.

Mine is, an't please your grace, against John Goodman, my lord cardinal's man, for keeping my house, and lands, and wife and all, from me. Suffolk

Thy wife too! that is some wrong indeed. What's your's?. -What's here? [Reads.] Against the duke of Suffolk, for enclosing the commons of Melford."- How now, sir knave? Second Petitioner.

Alas! sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.

Peter.

[Presenting his Petition. Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying, that the duke of York was rightful heir to the

crown.

All.

Come let's be gone. [Exeunt Petitioners.
Queen Margaret.

My lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise,
Is this the fashion in the court of England?
Is this the government of Britain's isle,
And this the royalty of Albion's king?
What! shall king Henry be a pupil still,
Under the surly Gloster's governance?
Am I a queen in title and in style,
And must be made a subject to a duke?
I tell thee, Poole, when in the city Tours
Thou ran'st a tilt in honour of my love,
And stol'st away the ladies' hearts of France,
I thought king Henry had resembled thee,
In courage, courtship, and proportion;
But all his mind is bent to holiness.
To number Ave-Maries on his beads:

His champions are the prophets and apostles,
His weapons, holy saws of sacred writ;
His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves
Are brazen images of canoniz'd saints.
I would, the college of the cardinals

In England work your grace's full content.
Queen Margaret,

Beside the haughty protector, have we BeauThe imperious churchman; Somerset, Buckfort, [ingham, And grumbling York: and not the least of these, But can do more in England than the king. Suffolk.

And he of these that can do most of all, Cannot do more in England than the Nevils: Salisbury, and Warwick, are no simple peers. Queen Margaret.

Not all these lords do vex me half so much, She sweeps it through the court with troops of As that proud dame, the lord protector's wife: More like an empress than duke Humphrey's ladies, [wife. Strangers in court do take her for the queen: She bears a duke's revenues on her back, And in her heart she scorns our poverty. Shall I not live to be aveng'd on her? Contemptuous base-born callat as she is, She vaunted 'mongst her minions t'other day, The very train of her worst wearing gown Was better worth than all my father's lands, Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter. Suffolk

Madam, myself have lim'd a bush for her; And plac'd a quire of such enticing birds, And never mount to trouble you again. That she will light to listen to the lays, So, let her rest; and, madam, list to me, For I am bold to counsel you in this. Although we fancy not the cardinal, Till we have brought duke Humphrey in disYet must we join with him, and with the lords,

grace.

As for the duke of York, this late complaint
Will make but little for his benefit:
So, one by one, we'll weed them all at last,
And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.
Enter King Henry, York, and Somerset; Duke
and Duchess of Gloster, Cardinal Beaufort,
Buckingham, Salisbury, and Warwick.