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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 sover-

He being of age to govern of himself?

Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk,

We'll quickly hoise Duke Humphrey from his


Car. This weighty business will not brook delay;

I'll to the Duke of Suffolk presently.


Som. Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey's pride

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 Gloucester be displaced, he'll be protector.
Buck. Or thou or I, Somerset, will be pro-


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 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,
169. hoise, hoist.

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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, 210 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.

191. plainness, frankness. ib. housekeeping, i.e. 'keeping open house,' generous hospitality. Holinshed describes how when he came to London he held such an house that six oxen were eaten at a breakfast, and everie tavern was full of his meat, for who that had anie acquaintance in that house, he should have had as much sod

and rost as he might carrie upon a long dagger' (ed. Stone, P. 247).

194. thy acts in Ireland. This anticipates; it was only in 1448 that according to Holinshed (and history) York appeased' a rebellion in Ireland (ed. Stone, p. 248).

208. main, 'main chance' (v. 212), general current of events.

York. Anjou and Maine are given to the


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

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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

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
And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey,

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Calydon, was doomed to perish
when the 'fatal brand' was
burnt, as it finally was by his
mother Althæa. York's life
similarly hangs upon the pre-
servation of the realm intact.


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 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


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


Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.



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

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.
Glou. Methought this staff, mine office-badge in

Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot,
But, as I think, 'twas by the cardinal;

And on the pieces of the broken wand

Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of

And William de la Pole, first duke of Suffolk.
This was my dream: what it doth bode, God

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;




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