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Read Ebook: Henry VI Part 2 by Shakespeare William

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War. So God helpe Warwicke, as he loues the Land, And common profit of his Countrey

Yor. And so sayes Yorke, For he hath greatest cause

Salisbury. Then lets make hast away, And looke vnto the maine

Warwicke. Vnto the maine? Oh Father, Maine is lost, That Maine, which by maine force Warwicke did winne, And would haue 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 slaine.

Exit Warwicke, and Salisbury. Manet Yorke.

Yorke. Aniou and Maine are giuen to the French, Paris is lost, the state of Normandie Stands on a tickle point, now they are gone: Suffolke concluded on the Articles, The Peeres agreed, and Henry was well pleas'd, To change two Dukedomes for a Dukes faire daughter. I cannot blame them all, what is't to them? 'Tis thine they giue away, and not their owne. Pirates may make cheape penyworths of their pillage, And purchase Friends, and giue to Curtezans, Still reuelling like Lords till all be gone, While as the silly Owner of the goods Weepes ouer them, and wrings his haplesse hands, And shakes his head, and trembling stands aloofe, While all is shar'd, and all is borne away, Ready to sterue, and dare not touch his owne. So Yorke must sit, and fret, and bite his tongue, While his owne Lands are bargain'd for, and sold: Me thinkes the Realmes of England, France, & Ireland, Beare that proportion to my flesh and blood, As did the fatall brand Althaea burnt, Vnto the Princes heart of Calidon: Aniou and Maine both giuen vnto the French? Cold newes for me: for I had hope of France, Euen as I haue of fertile Englands soile. A day will come, when Yorke shall claime his owne, And therefore I will take the Neuils parts, And make a shew of loue to proud Duke Humfrey, And when I spy aduantage, claime the Crowne, For that's the Golden marke I seeke to hit: Nor shall proud Lancaster vsurpe my right, Nor hold the Scepter in his childish Fist, Nor weare the Diadem vpon his head, Whose Church-like humors fits not for a Crowne. Then Yorke be still a-while, till time do serue: Watch thou, and wake when others be asleepe, To prie into the secrets of the State, Till Henrie surfetting in ioyes of loue, With his new Bride, & Englands deere bought Queen, And Humfrey with the Peeres be falne at iarres: Then will I raise aloft the Milke-white-Rose, With whose sweet smell the Ayre shall be perfum'd, And in my Standard beare the Armes of Yorke, To grapple with the house of Lancaster, And force perforce Ile make him yeeld the Crowne, Whose bookish Rule, hath pull'd faire England downe.

Exit Yorke.

Enter Duke Humfrey and his wife Elianor.

Elia. Why droopes my Lord like ouer-ripen'd Corn, Hanging the head at Ceres plenteous load? Why doth the Great Duke Humfrey knit his browes, As frowning at the Fauours of the world? Why are thine eyes fixt to the sullen earth, Gazing on that which seemes to dimme thy sight? What seest thou there? King Henries Diadem, Inchac'd with all the Honors of the world? If so, Gaze on, and grouell on thy face, Vntill thy head be circled with the same. Put forth thy hand, reach at the glorious Gold. What, is't too short? Ile lengthen it with mine, And hauing both together heau'd it vp, Wee'l both together lift our heads to heauen, And neuer more abase our sight so low, As to vouchsafe one glance vnto the ground

Hum. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost loue thy Lord, Banish the Canker of ambitious thoughts: And may that thought, when I imagine ill Against my King and Nephew, vertuous Henry, Be my last breathing in this mortall world. My troublous dreames this night, doth make me sad

Eli. What dream'd my Lord, tell me, and Ile requite it With sweet rehearsall of my mornings dreame? Hum. Me thought this staffe mine Office-badge in Court Was broke in twaine: by whom, I haue forgot, But as I thinke, it was by'th Cardinall, And on the peeces of the broken Wand Were plac'd the heads of Edmond Duke of Somerset, And William de la Pole first Duke of Suffolke. This was my dreame, what it doth bode God knowes

Eli. Tut, this was nothing but an argument, That he that breakes a sticke of Glosters groue, Shall loose his head for his presumption. But list to me my Humfrey, my sweete Duke: Me thought I sate in Seate of Maiesty, In the Cathedrall Church of Westminster, And in that Chaire where Kings & Queens wer crownd, Where Henrie and Dame Margaret kneel'd to me, And on my head did set the Diadem

Hum. Nay Elinor, then must I chide outright: Presumptuous Dame, ill-nurter'd Elianor, Art thou not second Woman in the Realme? And the Protectors wife belou'd of him? Hast thou not worldly pleasure at command, Aboue the reach or compasse of thy thought? And wilt thou still be hammering Treachery, To tumble downe thy husband, and thy selfe, From top of Honor, to Disgraces feete? Away from me, and let me heare no more

Elia. What, what, my Lord? Are you so chollericke With Elianor, for telling but her dreame? Next time Ile keepe my dreames vnto my selfe, And not be check'd

Hum. Nay be not angry, I am pleas'd againe. Enter Messenger.

Mess. My Lord Protector, 'tis his Highnes pleasure, You do prepare to ride vnto S. Albons, Where as the King and Queene do meane to Hawke

Hu. I go. Come Nel thou wilt ride with vs?

Ex. Hum

Hume. Iesus preserue your Royall Maiesty

Elia. What saist thou? Maiesty: I am but Grace

Hume. But by the grace of God, and Humes aduice, Your Graces Title shall be multiplied

Elia. What saist thou man? Hast thou as yet confer'd With Margerie Iordane the cunning Witch, With Roger Bollingbrooke the Coniurer? And will they vndertake to do me good? Hume. This they haue promised to shew your Highnes A Spirit rais'd from depth of vnder ground, That shall make answere to such Questions, As by your Grace shall be propounded him

Elianor. It is enough, Ile thinke vpon the Questions: When from Saint Albones we doe make returne, Wee'le see these things effected to the full. Here Hume, take this reward, make merry man With thy Confederates in this weightie cause.

Exit Elianor

Hume. Hume must make merry with the Duchesse Gold: Marry and shall: but how now, Sir Iohn Hume? Seale vp your Lips, and giue no words but Mum, The businesse asketh silent secrecie. Dame Elianor giues Gold, to bring the Witch: Gold cannot come amisse, were she a Deuill. Yet haue I Gold flyes from another Coast: I dare not say, from the rich Cardinall, And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolke; Yet I doe finde it so: for to be plaine, They Haue hyred me to vnder-mine the Duchesse, And buzze these Coniurations in her brayne. They say, A craftie Knaue do's need no Broker, Yet am I Suffolke and the Cardinalls Broker. Hume, if you take not heed, you shall goe neere To call them both a payre of craftie Knaues. Well, so it stands: and thus I feare at last, Humes Knauerie will be the Duchesse Wracke, And her Attainture, will be Humphreyes fall: Sort how it will, I shall haue Gold for all. Enter.

Enter three or foure Petitioners, the Armorers Man being one.

Peter. Here a comes me thinkes, and the Queene with him: Ile be the first sure

Suff. How now fellow: would'st any thing with me? 1.Pet. I pray my Lord pardon me, I tooke ye for my Lord Protector

Queene. To my Lord Protector? Are your Supplications to his Lordship? Let me see them: what is thine? 1.Pet. Mine is, and't please your Grace, against Iohn Goodman, my Lord Cardinals Man, for keeping my House, and Lands, and Wife and all, from me

Suff. Thy Wife too? that's some Wrong indeede. What's yours? What's heere? Against the Duke of Suffolke, for enclosing the Commons of Melforde. How now, Sir Knaue? 2.Pet. Alas Sir, I am but a poore Petitioner of our whole Towneship

Peter. Against my Master Thomas Horner, for saying, That the Duke of Yorke was rightfull Heire to the Crowne

Queene. What say'st thou? Did the Duke of Yorke say, hee was rightfull Heire to the Crowne? Peter. That my Mistresse was? No forsooth: my Master said, That he was, and that the King was an Vsurper

Suff. Who is there? Enter Seruant.

Take this fellow in, and send for his Master with a Purseuant presently: wee'le heare more of your matter before the King.

Enter.

Queene. And as for you that loue to be protected Vnder the Wings of our Protectors Grace, Begin your Suites anew, and sue to him.

Teare the Supplication.

Away, base Cullions: Suffolke let them goe

All. Come, let's be gone. Enter.

Queene. My Lord of Suffolke, say, is this the guise? Is this the Fashions in the Court of England? Is this the Gouernment of Britaines Ile? And this the Royaltie of Albions King? What, shall King Henry be a Pupill still, Vnder the surly Glosters Gouernance? Am I a Queene in Title and in Stile, And must be made a Subiect to a Duke? I tell thee Poole, when in the Citie Tours Thou ran'st a-tilt in honor of my Loue, And stol'st away the Ladies hearts of France; I thought King Henry had resembled thee, In Courage, Courtship, and Proportion: But all his minde is bent to Holinesse, To number Aue-Maries on his Beades: His Champions, are the Prophets and Apostles, His Weapons, holy Sawes of sacred Writ, His Studie is his Tilt-yard, and his Loues Are brazen Images of Canonized Saints. I would the Colledge of the Cardinalls Would chuse him Pope, and carry him to Rome, And set the Triple Crowne vpon his Head; That were a State fit for his Holinesse

Suff. Madame be patient: as I was cause Your Highnesse came to England, so will I In England worke your Graces full content

Queene. Beside the haughtie Protector, haue we Beauford The imperious Churchman; Somerset, Buckingham, And grumbling Yorke: and not the least of these, But can doe more in England then the King

Suff. And he of these, that can doe most of all, Cannot doe more in England then the Neuils: Salisbury and Warwick are no simple Peeres

Queene. Not all these Lords do vex me halfe so much, As that prowd Dame, the Lord Protectors Wife: She sweepes it through the Court with troups of Ladies, More like an Empresse, then Duke Humphreyes Wife: Strangers in Court, doe take her for the Queene: She beares a Dukes Reuenewes on her backe, And in her heart she scornes our Pouertie: Shall I not liue to be aueng'd on her? Contemptuous base-borne Callot as she is, She vaunted 'mongst her Minions t' other day, The very trayne of her worst wearing Gowne, Was better worth then all my Fathers Lands, Till Suffolke gaue two Dukedomes for his Daughter

Suff. Madame, my selfe haue lym'd a Bush for her, And plac't a Quier of such enticing Birds, That she will light to listen to the Layes, And neuer mount to trouble you againe. So let her rest: and Madame list to me, For I am bold to counsaile you in this; Although we fancie not the Cardinall, Yet must we ioyne with him and with the Lords, Till we haue brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. As for the Duke of Yorke, this late Complaint Will make but little for his benefit: So one by one wee'le weed them all at last, And you your selfe shall steere the happy Helme. Enter.

Sound a Sennet.

Enter the King, Duke Humfrey, Cardinall, Buckingham, Yorke, Salisbury, Warwicke, and the Duchesse.

King. For my part, Noble Lords, I care not which, Or Somerset, or Yorke, all's one to me

Yorke. If Yorke haue ill demean'd himselfe in France, Then let him be denay'd the Regentship

Som. If Somerset be vnworthy of the Place, Let Yorke be Regent, I will yeeld to him

Warw. Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no, Dispute not that, Yorke is the worthyer

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