Sal. Then 1'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?

"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 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 realins of England, France, and
Ireland,

Bear that proportion to my flesh and blood,
As did the fatal brand Althea burned,

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 fit not for a crown.
Then, York, be still awhile, till time do serve :
Watch thou, and wake, when others be asleep,
То 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 fall'n 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;

And, force perforce, I'll make him yield the crown, Whose bookish rule hath pulled fair England down.

[Exit.

SCENE II.-London.

A Room in the Duke of

GLOSTER'S House.

Enter GLOSTER and the DUCHESS.

Duch. 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,
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.

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,

As to vouchsafe one glance unto the ground.1

Glo. O Nell, sweet Nell, if thou dost love thy

lord,

Banish the canker of ambitious thoughts: 2

And 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 dreamed my lord? tell me, and I'll
requite it

With sweet rehearsal of my morning's dream.3

Glo. Methought, this staff, mine office-badge in court,

Was broke in twain: by whom, I have forgot,

1 What seest thou, Duke Humphrey? King Henry's crown! Reach at it, and if thine arm be too short,

Mine shall lengthen it.

My lovely Nell, far be it from my heart

To think of treason 'gainst my sovereign lord.
But I was troubled with a dream to-night,

And God I pray it do betide no ill.

8 What dreamt my lord? Good Humphrey, tell it me, And I'll interpret it, and when that 's done

I'll tell thee then what I did dream to-night.

But, as I think, 't was by the cardinal ;
And on the pieces of the broken wand

Were placed the heads of Edmund Duke of Somerset,

And William de la Poole, first Duke of Suffolk.1 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 Gloster's grove, Shall lose his head for his presumption. But list to me, my Humphrey, my sweet duke:' 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.

Glo. 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,

1 Was broke in two, and on the ends were placed
The heads of the Cardinal of Winchester
And William, &c.

2 But now, my lord, I'll tell you what I dreamt.