The Arden Shakespeare Complete Works
Page 215
Lordings, farewell; and say when I am gone,
I prophesied France will be lost ere long. Exit.
CARDINAL So, there goes our Protector in a rage.
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’Tis 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.
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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.
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What though the common people favour him,
Calling him ‘Humphrey, the good Duke of Gloucester’,
Clapping their hands and crying with loud voice,
‘Jesu maintain your royal excellence!’,
With ‘God preserve the good Duke Humphrey!’,
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I fear me, lords, for all this flattering gloss,
He will be found a dangerous Protector.
BUCKINGHAM
Why should he then protect our sovereign,
He being of age to govern of himself?
Cousin of Somerset, join you with me,
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And all together, with the Duke of Suffolk,
We’ll quickly hoist Duke Humphrey from his seat.
CARDINAL This weighty business will not brook delay;
I’ll to the Duke of Suffolk presently. Exit.
SOMERSET
Cousin of Buckingham, though Humphrey’s pride
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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.
BUCKINGHAM
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Or thou or I, Somerset, will be Protectors,
Despite Duke Humphrey, or the Cardinal.
Exeunt Buckingham and Somerset.
SALISBURY Pride went before; Ambition follows him.
While these do labour for their own preferment,
Behoves it us to labour for the realm.
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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’th’ church,
As stout and proud as he were lord of all,
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Swear like a ruffian, and demean himself
Unlike the ruler of a commonweal. –
Warwick, my son, the comfort of my age,
Thy deeds, thy plainness and thy housekeeping
Hath won thee greatest favour of the commons,
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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,
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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;
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And, as we may, cherish Duke Humphrey’s deeds,
While they do tend the profit of the land.
WARWICK So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
And common profit of his country!
YORK
And so says York, [aside] for he hath greatest cause.
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SALISBURY
Then let’s make haste and look unto the main.
WARWICK 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,
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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,
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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 courtesans,
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,
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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
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Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood
As did the fatal brand Althaea burnt
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
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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 Nevilles’ parts
And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey,
And when I spy advantage, claim the crown,
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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.
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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;
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And force perforce I’ll make him yield the crown,
Whose bookish rule hath pulled fair England down.
Exit.
1.2 Enter GLOUCESTER and his wife ELEANOR.
ELEANOR 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,
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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.
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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
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As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
GLOUCESTER
O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts.
And may that hour, when I imagine ill
Against my King and nephew, virtuous Henry,
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Be my last breathing in this mortal world!
My troublous dreams this night doth make me sad.
ELEANOR
What dreamed my lord? Tell me, and I’ll requite it
With sweet rehearsal of my morning’s dream.
GLOUCESTER
Methought this staff, mine office-badge in court,
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Was broke in twain; by whom I have forgot
But, as I think, it was by th’ Cardinal;
And on the pieces of the broken wand
Were placed the heads of Edmund, Duke of Somerset,
And William de la Pole, first Duke of Suffolk.
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This was my dream; what it doth bode, God knows.
ELEANOR 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:
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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.
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GLOUCESTER 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,
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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!
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ELEANOR 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.
GLOUCESTER Nay, be not angry, I am pleased again.
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Enter Messenger.
MESSENGER
My Lord Protector, ’tis his highness’ pleasure
You do prepare to ride unto Saint Albans,
Whereas the King and Queen do mean to hawk.
GLOUCESTER I go. Come, Nell, thou wilt ride with us?
ELEANOR Yes, my good lord, I’ll follow presently.
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Exeunt Gloucester and Messenger.
Follow I must; I cannot go before
While Gloucester 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.
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And, being a woman, I will not be slack
To play my part in Fortune’s pageant. –
Where are you there? Sir John!
Enter HUME.
Nay, fear not, man,
We are alone; here’s none but thee and I.
HUME Jesus preserve your royal majesty!
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ELEANOR What sayst thou? Majesty! I am but grace.
HUME But by the grace of God, and Hume’s advice,
Your grace’s title shall be multiplied.
ELEANOR
What sayst thou, man? Hast thou as yet conferred
With Margery Jourdain, the cunning witch,
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With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjuror?
And will they undertake to do me good?
HUME This they have promised, to show your highness
A spirit, raised from depth of underground,
That shall make answer to such questions
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As by your grace shall be propounded him.
ELEANOR It is enough, I’ll think upon the questions.
When from Saint Albans we do make return
We’ll see these things effected to the full.
Here, Hume, take this reward; make merry, man,
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With thy confederates in this weighty cause. Exit.
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.
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Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch: