« AnteriorContinuar »
I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloucester
WAR. So God help Warwick, as he loves the land,
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 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 maymake 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 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 Ireland 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 che 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, when I
advantage, claim the crown,
Duch. Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd corn,
What seest thou there? King Henry's diadem,
Glou. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
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. Glov. 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 Dukeof Somerset, And William de la Pole, 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 Gloucester's grove Shall lose his head for his presumption.
But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke:
crown'd; Where Henry and dame Margaret kneeld to me And on my head did set the diadem.
Glov. 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 check’d. Glou. Nay, be not angry; I am pleased again.
Enter Messenger. Mess. My lord protector, 'tis his highness'
pleasure You do prepare to ride unto Saint Alban's, Where as the king and queen do mean to hawk.
Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us? Duch. Yes, my good lord, I'll follow presently.
[Exeunt GLOUCESTER and Messenger.
Glou. I go.