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Be full expir'd.

Thanks, uncle Winchester,

Gloster, York, 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 perform'd.

[Exeunt King, Queen, and SUFFOLK.

Glo. 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 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,
Receiv'd 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?
And was his highness in his infancy
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 counsel, 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 conquer'd 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 duchy 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,
Deliver'd 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 stay'd in France, and starv'd in France, Before

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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: 'T is not my speeches that you do mislike,

But 't is my presence that doth trouble ye.
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.

Car. So, there goes our protector in a rage.
"T is known to you he is mine 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 displeas'd 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!"


"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 all together, 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 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 Gloster be displac'd, 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,

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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 house-keeping,
Have 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;

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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. 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 meant; but I meant Maine,

Which I will win from France, or else be slain.


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 pleas'd,
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;
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 shar'd, 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 Ireland,
Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood,

As did the fatal brand Althea 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,
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 fit not for a crown.
Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve:

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