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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. [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
'Tis thine they give away, and not their own.
Weeps over them, and wrings his hapless hands,
Anjou and Maine, both given unto the French!
A day will come, when York shall claim his own;
To pry into the secrets of the state;
With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed;
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,
Glo. O, Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
Duch. What dreamed 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,
Were placed the heads of Edmond duke of Somerset,
And William de la Poole, first duke of Suffolk.
But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke.
In the cathedral church of Westminster,
And in that chair where kings and queens are crowned;
Glo. Nay, Eleanor, then must I chide outright:
Duch. What, what, my lord! are you so choleric,
Glo. Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.
Enter a Messenger.
Mess. My lord proteetor, 'tis his highness' pleasure,
Glo. I go.-Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
Follow I must, I cannot go before,
I would remove these tedious stumbling-blocks,
To play my part in fortune's pageant.
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 show your highness
Duch. It is enough; I'll think upon the questions.
Hume. Hume must make merry with the duchess' gold;
Dame Eleanor gives gold, to bring the witch;
And from the great and new-made duke of Suffolk;
They, knowing dame Eleanor's aspiring humor,
SCENE III. The same. A Room in the Palace.
Enter PETER, and others, with petitions.
1 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.
2 Pet. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he's a good man! Jesu bless him!
Enter SUFFOLK and QUEEN MARGARET.
1 Pet. Here a' comes, methinks, and the queen with him. I'll be the first, sure.
2 Pet. Come back, fool; this is the duke of Suffolk, and not my lord protector.
Suff. How now, fellow? wouldst any thing with me? 1 Pet. I pray, my lord, pardon me! I took ye 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?
1 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.
Suff. Thy wife too? That is some wrong indeed.-What's yours?-What's here? [Reads.] Against the duke of Suffolk, for inclosing the commons of Melford.-How now, sir knave?
2 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.
Suff. 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.
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,