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I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester
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 commonweal.
Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age,
Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping,
Hath 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.

WAR. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land,
And common profit of his country !
York. [Aside] 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 tickle 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: what is 't to them? 'Tis thine they give away, and not their own. Pirates maymake 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 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 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 Althæa burn'd Unto the prince's heart of Calydon. Anjou and Maine both given unto che 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,

And therefore I will take the Nevils' parts And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey, 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 fits 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 fall’n at jars :
Then will I raise aloft the milk-white rose,
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 pull’d fair England down.

[Exit.
SCENE II.
The DUKE OF GLOUCESTER's house.
Enter Duke HUMPHREY and his wife ELEANOR.

Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn,
Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load ?
Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,
As frowning at the favours of the world?
Why are thine eyes fix'd 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 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 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.

Glou. 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. Duch. What dream'd my lord ? tell me, and

I'll requite it With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream. Glov. 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 Were placed the heads of Edmund Dukeof Somerset, And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. This was my dream : what it doth bode, God knows.

Duch. Tut, this was nothing but an argument That he that breaks a stick of Gloucester'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 are

crown'd; Where Henry and dame Margaret kneeld to me And on my head did set the diadem.

Glov. 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 honour to disgrace's feet? Away from me, and let me hear no more!

Duch. 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. Glou. Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.

Enter Messenger. Mess. My lord protector, 'tis his highness'

pleasure You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk.

Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? Duch. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.

[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger.

Glou. I go.

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