SCENE I.-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.

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, Bretaigne, and
Alençon,

Seven earls, twelve barons, twenty reverend bishops,

I have performed 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

To your most gracious hands, that are the substance
Of that great shadow I did represent:
The happiest gift that ever marquis gave;
The fairest queen that ever king received.
K. Hen. Suffolk, arise.-Welcome, Queen
Margaret:

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!
For thou hast given me, in this beauteous face,
A world of earthly blessings to my soul,
If sympathy of love unite our thoughts.

Q. Mar. 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 alder-liefest sovereign,
Makes me the bolder to salute my king
With ruder terms, such as my wit affords,
And overjoy of heart doth minister.

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 dowry.

K. Hen. They please us well.-Lord marquis, kneel down:

We here create thee the first Duke of Suffolk,
And girt thee with the sword.-

Cousin of York, we here discharge your grace
From being regent in the parts of France,
Till term of eighteen months be full expired.-
Thanks, uncle Winchester, Gloster, York, and
Buckingham,

Somerset, Salisbury, and Warwick :

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

His valour, coin, and people in the wars:
Did he so often lodge in open field,
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 my 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:

And hath his highness in his infancy
Been crowned in Paris, in despite of foes:
And shall these labours and these honours die?
Shall Henry's conquest, Bedford's vigilance,
Your deeds of war, and all our council, die?
O peers of England, shameful 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 conquered France;
Undoing all, as all had never been!

Car. Nephew, what means this passionate
discourse;

This peroration with such circumstance?
For France, 't is ours; and we will keep it still.

Glo. 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 duchies of Anjou and Maine
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

tears.

Anjou and Maine! myself did win them both;
Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer:
And are the cities that I got with wounds
Delivered up again with peaceful words?
Mort Dieu!

York. For Suffolk's duke, may he be suffocate,
That dims the honour 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,
To match with her that brings no vantages.
Glo. A proper jest, and never heard before,

That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth
For costs and charges in transporting her:
She should have stayed in France, and starved
in France,

Before

Car. My lord of Gloster, now you grow too hot: It was the pleasure of my lord the King.

Glo. My lord of Winchester, I know your mind:
'Tis not my speeches that you do mislike,
But 't is my presence that doth trouble you:
Rancour 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 my enemy:
Nay, more, an enemy unto you all;
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 displeased 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,
"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?—
Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
And altogether with the Duke of Suffolk,
We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his seat.
Car. This weighty business will not brook delay:
I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently.
Som. Cousin of Buckingham, though Hum-
phrey's pride,

[Exit.

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 displaced, he 'll be protector.
Buck. Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector,
Despite Duke Humphrey or the cardinal.

[Exeunt BUCKINGHAM and SOMERSET. Sal. Pride went before; ambition follows him. While these do labour for their own preferment, Behoves it us to labour for the realm.

I 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 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 feared and honoured 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. 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 mean; but I mean 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 may make cheap pennyworths of their

pillage,

And purchase friends and give to courtezans,
Still revelling like lords till all be gone:
Whileas 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 bargained 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 burned

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 Humphrey,
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 his 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

Queen,

And Humphrey, with the peers, be fallen 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 pulled fairEngland down.
[Exit.

SCENE II.-The same. A Room in the DUKE OF GLOSTER's House.

Enter GLOSTER and the DUCHESS. Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripened

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 fixed to the sullen earth,
Gazing on that which seems to dim thy sight?
What see'st 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.
Glo. 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 dreamed ny 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 the cardinal:
And on the pieces of the broken wand
Were placed the heads of Edmund, Duke of
Somerset,

And William de la Poole, 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 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 are crowned;

Where Henry and dame Margaret kneeled to me, And on my head did set the diadem.

Glo. 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 checked.

Glo. Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.

Enter a Messenger.

Mes. My lord protector, 't is his highness' pleasure

You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's,
Whereas the King and Queen do mean to hawk.
Glo. I go.-Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
Duch. Yes, good my lord; I'll follow presently.
[Exeunt GLOSTER and Messenger.
Follow I must, I cannot go before,
While Gloster bears this base and humble mind.
Were I a man, a duke, 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. Jesu preserve your royal majesty! Duch. What say'st thou? majesty! I am but

grace.

Hume. But by the grace of God, and Hume's advice,

Your grace's title shall be multiplied.

Duch. What say'st thou, man: hast thou as yet conferred

With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch,
And Roger Bolingbroke, the conjuror:
And will they undertake to do me good?

Hume. This they have promised: to shew your highness

ques

A spirit raised from depth of under-ground,
That shall make answer to such questions
As by your grace shall be propounded him.
Duch. It is enough: I'll think upon the
tions.
When from Saint Alban's we do make return,
We'll see these things effected to the full.
Here, Hume, take this reward: make merry, man,
With thy confederates in this weighty cause.
[Exit DUCHESS.
Hume. 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 Suffolk:
Yet I do find it so: for, to be plain,
They knowing Dame Eleanor's aspiring humour,
Have hired me to undermine the duchess,
And buzz 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 duchess' wreck;
And her attainture will be Humphrey's fall.
Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all. [Exit.

SCENE III.-The same. A Room in the Palace.

Enter PETER and others, with petitions. 1st Pet. My masters, let's stand close my lord protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our supplications in the quill. 2nd Pet. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he is a good man: Jesu bless him!

Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET. 1st Pet. Here 'a comes, methinks, and the Queen with him: I'll be the first, sure.

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

ye

Suf. How now, fellow; wouldst anything with me?

1st Pet. I pray, my lord, pardon me: I took for my lord protector.

Q. Mar. [Reading the superscription.] "To my lord protector!"—Are your supplications to his lordship? let me see them. What is thine?

1st Pet. 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.

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

2nd Pet. 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.

Q. Mar. What say'st thou: did the Duke of York say he was rightful heir to the crown?

Peter. That my master was? no, forsooth: my master said that he was; and that the King was an usurper.

Suf. Who is there? [Enter Servants.]-Take this fellow in and send for his master with a pursuivant presently. We'll hear more of your matter before the King.

[Exeunt Servants with PETER, Q. Mar. And as for you, that love to be protected Under the wings of our protector's grace, Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.

[Tears the petition. Away, base cullions!—Suffolk, let them go.

All. Come, let's be gone. [Exeunt Petitioners. Q. Mar. 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