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To fee her coronation be perform'd.
[Exeunt King, Queen, and Suffolk. Manent the reft.
Glo. Brave Peers of England, pillars of the ftate,
To you Duke Humphry muft unload his grief,
Your grief, the common grief of all the land.
What! did my brother Henry fpend his youth,
His valour, coin, and people in the wars
Did he fo often lodge in open field,
In winter's cold, and fummer'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, Somerfet, Buckingham,
Brave York, and Salisbury, victorious Warwick,
Receiv'd deep fears in France and Normandy?
Or hath mine uncle Beauford, and myself, (3)
With all the learned council of the realm,
Studied fo long, fat in the council-house,
Early and late, debating to and fro,
How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe,
And was his Highnefs in his infancy
Crowned in Paris, in defpight of foes?
And fhall thefe labours and thefe honours die ?
Shall Henry's conqueft, Bedford's vigilance,
Your deeds of war, and all our counfel die!
O Peers of England, fhameful is this league,
Fatal this marriage; cancelling your fame,
Blotting your names from books of memory;
Razing the characters of your renown,
Defacing monuments of conquer'd France,
Undoing all, as all had never been.
Car. Nephew, what means this paffionate discourse ? This peroration with fuch circumftances?
For France, 'tis ours; and we will keep it ftill.
(3) Or bath mine uncle Bedford.-] Here again the indolence of our modern editors is very fignal; for within fix lines Gloucefter is made to call Bedford both his brother and uncle. I have the warrant the older books for reftoring the true reading here.
Glo. Ay, uncle, we will keep it if we can ;
But now it is impoffible we should.
Suffolk the new made Duke that rules the roast,
Hath giv❜n the duchy of Anjou and Maine
Unto the poor King Reignier, whofe large ftyle
Agrees not with the leannefs of his purfe.
Sal. Now, by the death of him who dy'd for all,
Thefe counties were the keys of Normandy:
But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant fon ?
War. For grief that they are past recovery.
For were there hope to conquer them again,
My fword fhould fhed hot blood, mine eyes no tears,
Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both :
Those provinces thefe arms of mine did conquer.
And are the cities, that I got with wounds,
Delivered up again with peaceful words?
York. For Suffolk's Duke, may he be fuffocate,
That dims the honour of this warlike iЛle!
France fhould 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 fums of gold, and dowries with their wives:
And our King Henry gives away his own,
To match with her that brings no vantages.
Glo. A proper jeft, and never heard before,
That Suffolk fhould demand a whole fifteenth,
For coft and charges in tranfporting her:
She should have staid in France, and starv'd in France, › Before
Car. My Lord of Glo'fter, now ye grow too hot :
It was the pleasure of my Lord the King.
Glo. My Lord of Winchefter, I know your mind...
'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike,
But 'tis my prefence that doth trouble you.
Rancour will out, proud Prelate; in thy face,.
I fee thy fury: if 1 longer stay,
We fhall begin our ancient bickerings.
Lordings, farewel; and fay, when I am gone,
I prophefy'd, France will be loft ere long.
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.
Confider, 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 weft,
There's reafon he fhould be difpleas'd at it.
Look to it, Lords, let not his foothing words
Bewitch your hearts; be wife and circumfpect.
What though the common people favour him,
Calling him Humphry, the good Duke of Glo❜fter,
Clapping their hands and crying with loud voice,
Jefu maintain your royal excellence!
With, God preferve the good Duke Humphry!
I fear me, Lords, for all this flattering glofs,
He will be found a dangerous Protector.
Buck. Why fhould he then protect our Sovereign,
He being of age to govern of himself?
Coufin of Somerset, join you with me,
And all together with the Duke of Suffolk,
We'll quickly hoift Duke Humphry from his feat.
Car. This weighty bufinefs will not brook delay.
I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently.
Som. Coufin of Buckingham, though Humphry's pride
And greatnefs of his place be grief to us,
Yet let us watch the haughty Cardinal :
His infolence is more intolerable
Than all the Princes in the land befide:
If Glofter be difplac'd, he'll be Protector.
Buck. Or Somerset, or I, will be Protector,
Defpight Duke Humphry, or the Cardinal.
[Exe. Buckingham and Somerset.
Sal. Pride went before, ambition follows him.
While thefe do labour for their own preferment,
Behoves it us to labour for the realm.
I never faw, but Humphry Duke of Glo'fler
Did bear him like a noble Gentleman:
Oft have I seen the haughty Cardinal
More like a foldier, than a man o' th' church ;
A's ftout and proud as he were Lord of all,
Swear like a ruffian, and demean himself
Unlike the ruler of a common-weal.
Warwick my fon, the comfort of my age!
Thy deeds, thy plainnefs, and thy houfe-keeping,
Have won the greatest favour of the commons,
Excepting none but good Duke Humphry.
And brother York, thy acts in Ireland,
In bringing them to civil difcipline;
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 publick good,
In what we can to bridle and fupprefs.
The pride of Suffolk, and the Cardinal,
With Somerfet's and Buckingham's ambition;
And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphry'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. And fo fays York, for he hath greateft caufe.
[Afide. Sal. Then let's make hafte, and 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; but I meant Maine,, Which I will win from France, or else be flain.
[Exe. Warwick and Salisbury
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 daughters.
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,.
And purchafe friends, and give to curtezans,
Still revelling, like Lords, till all be gone:
While as the filly owner of the goods
Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands,
And thakes his head, and trembling stands aloof,
While all is fhar'd, and all is borne
Ready to ftarve, 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, France, 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 fhall claim his own; ..
And therefore I will take the Nevills parts,
And make a fhew of love to proud Duke Humphry :
And when I fpy advantage, claim the crown;
For that's the golden mark I feek to hit.
Nor fhall proud Lancafter ufurp my right,
Nor hold the fcepter in his childish fist,
Nor wear the diadem upon his head,
Whofe church-like humour fits not for a crown.
Then, York, be ftill awhile, till time do ferve
Watch thou, and wake when others be asleep,
pry into the fecrets of the ftate;
Till Henry, furfeiting in joys of love,
With his new bride, and England's dear-bought Queen, ̧ And Humphry with the peers be fall'n at jars.
Then will I raife aloft the milk-white rofe,
With whose sweet smell the air fhall be perfum'd;
And in my ftandard bear the arms of York,
To grapple with the houfe of Lancaster:
And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown,
Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.