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And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloof,
While all is shar'd, and all is borne away;
Ready to starve, 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, Frarice, 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 spy advantage, claim the Crown;
For that's the golden mark I feek to hit.
Nor shall proud Lancaster usurp my right,
Nor hold the fcepter in his childish fift,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
Whose church-like humour fits not for a Crown.
Then, York, be still a while, 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 Humphry with the Peers be fall'n at jars.
Then will I raisc aloft the milk-white Rose,
With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfum'd;
And in my standard bear the arms of York,
To grapple with the house of Lancasier ;
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 House.
Enter Duke Humphry, and his Wife Eleanor.

HY droops my lord, like over-ripeu'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 seems to dim thy fight?
What seest thou there? King Henry's Diadem,
Inchas'd with all the honours of the world?
If so, gaze on, and grovel on thy face,
Until ihy 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 abasc our fight so low,
As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.

Glo. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord, Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts: And may that thought, when I imagine lil Against my King and nephew, virtuous Henry, Be my last Breathing in this mortal world ! My troublous dreams this night do make me sad. 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

Court, 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,

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And William de la Pole firft 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 lose his head for his Presumption.
But list to me, my Humphry, 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 ;
Where Henry and Marg'ret kneel'd to me,
And on my head did set the Diadem.

Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright:
Presumptuous Dame, ill-nurturd Eleanor,
Art thou not second woman in the Realm,
And the Protector's wife, belov'd of him?
Haft 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.

Elean. What, what! my lord: are you fo 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 Muffenger.
Mel. 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?

Exit Gloucester,
Elean. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.
Follow I must, I cannot go before,
While Glofter bears this base and humble mind.
Were I a man, a Dukc, and next of blood,


I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks;
And smooth my way upon their headless necks.
And being a woman, I will not be slack
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. Jesus preserve your Royal Majesty! Elean. What lay'st thou? Majelly? I am but Grace.

Hume. But by the grace of God, and Hume's advice, Your Grace's title shall be multiply'd. Elean. What fay'st thou, man ? hast thou as yet

With Margery Jordan, the cunning witch;
And Roger Bolingbrook the conjurer,
And will they undertake to do me good ?
Hume. This they have promised to shew your

A Spirit rais'd from depth of under-ground,
Thai shall make answer to such questions,
As by your Grace shall be propounded him.

Elean. It is enough, I'll think upon the questions:
When from St. Albans we do inake return,
We'll fee those things effected to the full.
Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man,
With thy consederates in this weighty cause.

[Exit Eleanor. Hume. Hume must make merry with the Dutchess'

gold: Marry, and shall; but how now, Sir John Hume? Seal up your lips, and give no words, but mum! The business asketh filent secrecy. Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch, Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. Yet have I gold, flies from another coat: I dare not say from the rich Cardinal, And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk ;


Yet I do find it so: for to be plain,
They (knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour)
Have hired me to undermine the Dutchess ;
And buz these conjurations in her brain.
They say, a crafty knave does need no broker;
Yet am I Suffolk's, 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 Dutchess' wreck,
And her Attainture will be Huniphry's Fall:
Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. [Exit.


Changes to an Apartment in the Palace. Enter three or four Petitioners, Peter the Armourer's man

being one. Y mafters,

tector then we may deliver our supplications in the quill.

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

Enter Suffolk, and Queen. 1 Pet. Here a' comes, methinks, and the Queen with him: I'll be the first, fure.

2 Pet. Come back, fool, this is the Duke of Suffolk, and not my lord Protector.

Suf. How now, fellow, would'ft any thing with

me ?

1 Pet. I pray, my lord, pardon me ; I took


for my lord Protector.

Q. Mar. To my lord Prote&or. [reading] Are your supplications to his lordship? let me see them; what is thine ?

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