King Henry VI, Part 2 | Page 5

will not brook delay;
I'll to the
Duke of Suffolk presently.
[Exit.]

SOMERSET.
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.
BUCKINGHAM.
Or thou or I, Somerset, will be protector,

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.
I never saw but Humphrey Duke of Gloster
Did bear him
like a noble gentleman.
Oft have I seen the haughty cardinal,
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 commonweal.--
Warwick my son, the comfort of my age,
Thy
deeds, thy plainness, and thy housekeeping,
Hath 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,
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.
WARWICK.
So God help Warwick, as he loves the land
And
common profit of his country!
YORK.
[Aside.] And so says York, for he hath greatest cause.
SALISBURY.
Then let's make haste away, 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,

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 pleas'd
To changes two dukedoms for a duke's fair daughter.
I
cannot blame them all: what is't to them?
'T is thine they give away,
and not their own.
Pirates may make cheap pennyworths of their
pillage,
And purchase friends, and give to courtesans,
Still revelling
like lords till all be gone;
Whileas 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 Althaea
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 fits not for a crown.
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 perfum'd,

And in my standard bear the arms of York,
To grapple with the house
of Lancaster;
And, force perforce, I 'll make him yield the crown

Whose bookish rule hath pull'd fair England down.
[Exit.]
SCENE II. The Duke of Gloster's House.
[Enter DUKE HUMPHREY and his wife ELEANOR]
DUCHESS.
Why droops my lord, like over-ripen'd 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 fix'd to the sullen earth,
Gazing on that which
seems to dim thy sight?
What see'st thou there? King Henry's diadem,

Enchas'd with all the honours of the world?
If so, gaze on, and
grovel on thy face,
Until thy head be circled with the same.
Put
forth thy hand, reach at the glorious gold.
What, is't too short? I'll
lengthen it with mine,
And, having both together heav'd it up,
We'll
both together lift our heads to heaven,
And never more abase our
sight so low
As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.
GLOSTER.
O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy lord,
Banish
the canker of ambitious thoughts;
And may that thought when I
imagine ill
Against my king and nephew, virtuous Henry,
Be my