I cannot tell: but this I am assured,

I feel such sharp dissension in my breast,
Such fierce alarums both of hope and fear,
As I am sick with working of my thoughts.
Take, therefore, shipping; post, my lord, to
France;

Agree to any covenants, and procure
That Lady Margaret do vouchsafe to come
To cross the seas to England, and be crown'd go
King Henry's faithful and anointed queen:
For your expenses and sufficient charge,
Among the people gather up a tenth.
Begone, I say; for, till you do return,
I rest perplexed with a thousand cares.
And you, good uncle, banish all offence:

100

If you do censure me by what you were,
Not what you are, I know it will excuse
This sudden execution of my will.
And so, conduct me where, from company,
I may revolve and ruminate my grief. [Exit.
Glou. Ay, grief, I fear me, both at first and
last. [Exeunt Gloucester and Exeter.
Suf. Thus Suffolk hath prevail'd; and thus
he goes,

As did the youthful Paris once to Greece,
With hope to find the like event in love,
But prosper better than the Trojan did.
Margaret shall now be queen, and rule the king;
But I will rule both her, the king and realm.

[Exit.

Suf. 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, Bretagne and
Alençon;

Seven earls, twelve barons and twenty reverend bishops,

I have perform'd my task and was espoused:
And humbly now upon my bended knee,
In sight of England and her lordly peers
Deliver up my title in the queen

ΙΟ

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 received.
King. Suffolk, arise. Welcome, Queen Mar-
garet:

A Spirit.

I can express no kinder sign of love
Than this kind kiss. O Lord, that lends me life,
Lend me a heart replete with thankfulness! 20
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
For thou hast given me in this beauteous face
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.
Queen. Great King of England and my gra-

cious 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 alder-liefest 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. Her sight did ravish; but her grace
in speech,

30

Her words y-clad with wisdom's majesty,
Makes me from wondering fall to weeping joys;
Such is the fulness of my heart's content.
Lords, with one cheerful voice welcome my love.
All [kneeling]. Long live Queen Margaret,
England's happiness!

Queen. We thank you all.

[Flourish.

Suf. My lord protector, so it please your

the French king Charles, and William de la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador for Henry King of England, that the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the thirtieth of May next ensuing. Item, that the duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released and delivered to the king her father Lets the paper fall.

King. Uncle, how now! Glou Pardon me, gracious lord: Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart And dimm'd mine eyes, that I can read no fur

ther.

King Uncle of Winchester, I pray, read on. Car. [Reads] Item, It is further agreed between them, that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be released and delivered over to the king her father, and she sent over of the King of England's own proper cost and charges, without having any dowry.'

King. They please us well. Lord Marquess, kneel down:

We here create thee the first duke of Suffolk,
And gird thee with the sword. Cousin of York,
We here discharge your grace from being regent
I' the parts of France, till term of eighteen months
Be full expired. Thanks, uncle Winchester,
Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset,
Salisbury, and Warwick;

We thank you all for this great favor done,
In entertainment to my princely queen.
Come, let us in, and with all speed provide
To see her coronation be perform'd.

70

[Exeunt King, Queen, and Suffolk. Glou. Brave peers of England, pillars of the

state,

To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief,
Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
What did my brother Henry spend his youth,
His valor, coin and people, in the wars?
Did he so often lodge in open field,

80

In winter's cold and summer's parching heat,
To conquer France, his true inheritance?
And did my brother Bedford toil his wits,
To keep by policy what Henry got?
Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham,
Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick,
Received deep scars in France and Normandy?
Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself,
With all the learned council of the realm,
Studied so long, sat in the council-house
Early and late, debating to and fro
How France and Frenchmen might be kept in

awe,

90

And had his highness in his infancy
Crowned in Paris in despite of foes?
And shall these labors and these honors die?
Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
Your deeds of war and all our counsel die?
O peers of England, shameful is this league!
Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame,
Blotting your names from books of memory, 100
Razing the characters of your renown,
Defacing monuments of conquer'd France,
Undoing all, as all had never been!

Car Nephew, what means this passionate discourse,

This peroration with such circumstance?

For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it still.
Glou. Ay, uncle, we will keep it, if we can;
But now it is impossible we should:
Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast,
Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine 110
Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style
Agrees not with the leanness of his purse.

Sal. Now, by the death of Him that died for all,

These counties were the keys of Normandy. But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son?

War. For grief that they are past recovery: For, were there hope to conquer them again, My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no

York. For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate, That dims the honor of this warlike isle! France should have torn and rent my very heart, Before I would have yielded to this league. I never read but England's kings have had Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives;

And our King Henry gives away his own, 130 To match with her that brings no vantages.

Glou. A proper jest, and never heard before, That Suffolk should command a whole fifteenth For costs and charges in transporting her! She should have staid in France and starved in France,

Before

Car. My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot:

It was the pleasure of my lord the king.

Glou. My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind;

'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, 140
But 'tis my presence that doth trouble ye.
Rancor will out: proud prelate, in thy face
I see thy fury: if I longer stay,

We shall begin our ancient bickerings.
Lordings, farewell; and say, when I am gone,
I prophesied France will be lost ere long. [Exit.
Car. So, there goes our protector in a rage.
'Tis known to you he is mine enemy,
Nay, more, an enemy unto you all,
And no great friend, I fear me, to the king. 150
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 displeased at it.
Look to it, lords; let not his smoothing words
Bewitch your hearts; be wise and circumspect.
What though the common people favor him,
Calling him 'Humphrey, the good Duke of
Gloucester,'

159

Clapping their hands, and crying with loud voice,
Jesu maintain your royal excellence!'
With 'God preserve the good Duke Humphrey !'
I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
He will be found a dangerous protector.

Buck. Why should he, then, protect our sovereign,

He being of age to govern of himself?

192

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 favor 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 honor'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
While they do tend the profit of the land. [deeds,
War. So God help Warwick, as he loves the
And common profit of his country! [land,
York. [Aside] And so says York, for he
hath greatest cause.
[unto the main.
Sal. Then let's make haste away, and look
War. Unto the main! Ofather, Maine is lost:
That Maine which by main force Warwick did
win,

200

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? 220 "Tis thine they give away, and not their own. Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their pillage

And purchase friends and give to courtesans,

Still revelling like lords till all be gone;
While as the silly owner of the goods
Weeps over them and rings 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, 230
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 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, 240
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 humors 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

queen,

250

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

Hanging the head at Ceres' plenteous load? Why doth the great Duke Humphrey knit his brows,

ΤΟ

As frowning at the favors 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 honors 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, 20 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. Glou. 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 Duke of
Somerset,

And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk. 30 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 Westminister And in that chair where kings and queens are crown'd;

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

40

Glou. 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 honor to disgrace's feet?

Away from me, and let me hear no more!
Duch. What, what, my lord! are you
choleric

With Eleanor, for telling but her dream?
Next time I'll keep my dreams unto myself,
And not be check'd.

50

so

duchess' gold;

go

[folk,

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 Suf-
Yet I do find it so for, to be plain,
They, knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humor,
Have hired me to undermine the duchess
And buzz these conjurations in her brain.
They say 'A crafty knave does need no broker:'
Yet I am Suffolk and the cardinal's broker. 101
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 III.
The palace.
Enter three or four Petitioners, PETER, the
Armorer's man, being one.

my

First Petit. My masters, let's stand close: lord protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our supplications in the quill.

Sec. Petit. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jesu bless him!

Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN. Peter. Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. I'll be the first, sure.

ΙΟ

Sec. Petit. Come back, fool; this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my lord protector. Suf. How now, fellow! wouldst any thing with me?

First Petit. I pray, my lord, pardon me; I took ye for my lord protector.

Queen. [Reading] To my Lord Protector!' Are your supplications to his lordship? Let me see them: what is thine?

First Petit. 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.

21

Suf. Thy wife too! that's some wrong, indeed. What's yours? What's here! [Reads] *Against