Part 72

GLOUCESTER. [_Reads_.] Imprimis, _it is agreed between the French king Charles and William de la Pole, Marquess of Suffolk, ambassador for Henry, King of England, that the said Henry shall espouse the Lady Margaret, daughter unto Reignier King of Naples, Sicilia, and Jerusalem, and crown her Queen of England ere the thirtieth of May next ensuing._ Item, _that the duchy of Anjou and the county of Maine shall be released and delivered to the King her father_—

[_Lets the paper fall._]

KING HENRY. Uncle, how now?

GLOUCESTER. Pardon me, gracious lord. Some sudden qualm hath struck me at the heart And dimmed mine eyes, that I can read no further.

KING HENRY. Uncle of Winchester, I pray read on.

CARDINAL. [_Reads_.] Item, _it is further agreed between them, that the duchies of Anjou and Maine shall be released and delivered to the King her father, and she sent over of the King of England’s own proper cost and charges, without having any dowry._

KING HENRY. They please us well.—Lord Marquess, kneel down. We here create thee the first Duke of Suffolk, And girt thee with the sword.—Cousin of York, We here discharge your grace from being regent I’ th’ parts of France, till term of eighteen months Be full expired.—Thanks, uncle Winchester, Gloucester, York, Buckingham, Somerset, Salisbury, and Warwick; We thank you all for this great favour done In entertainment to my princely Queen. Come, let us in, and with all speed provide To see her coronation be performed.

[_Exeunt King, Queen and Suffolk._]

GLOUCESTER. Brave peers of England, pillars of the state, To you Duke Humphrey must unload his grief, Your grief, the common grief of all the land. What! Did my brother Henry spend his youth, His valour, coin, and people, in the wars? Did he so often lodge in open field, In winter’s cold and summer’s parching heat, To conquer France, his true inheritance? And did my brother Bedford toil his wits To keep by policy what Henry got? Have you yourselves, Somerset, Buckingham, Brave York, Salisbury, and victorious Warwick, Received deep scars in France and Normandy? Or hath mine uncle Beaufort and myself, With all the learned council of the realm, Studied so long, sat in the council house Early and late, debating to and fro How France and Frenchmen might be kept in awe, And had his highness in his infancy Crowned in Paris in despite of foes? And shall these labours and these honours die? Shall Henry’s conquest, Bedford’s vigilance, Your deeds of war, and all our counsel die? O peers of England, shameful is this league! Fatal this marriage, cancelling your fame, Blotting your names from books of memory, Razing the characters of your renown, Defacing monuments of conquered France, Undoing all, as all had never been!

CARDINAL. Nephew, what means this passionate discourse, This peroration with such circumstance? For France, ’tis ours; and we will keep it still.

GLOUCESTER. Ay, uncle, we will keep it if we can, But now it is impossible we should. Suffolk, the new-made duke that rules the roast, Hath given the duchy of Anjou and Maine Unto the poor King Reignier, whose large style Agrees not with the leanness of his purse.

SALISBURY. Now, by the death of Him that died for all, These counties were the keys of Normandy! But wherefore weeps Warwick, my valiant son?

WARWICK. For grief that they are past recovery; For, were there hope to conquer them again, My sword should shed hot blood, mine eyes no tears. Anjou and Maine! Myself did win them both, Those provinces these arms of mine did conquer; And are the cities that I got with wounds Delivered up again with peaceful words? _Mort Dieu!_

YORK. For Suffolk’s duke, may he be suffocate, That dims the honour of this warlike isle! France should have torn and rent my very heart Before I would have yielded to this league. I never read but England’s kings have had Large sums of gold and dowries with their wives; And our King Henry gives away his own, To match with her that brings no vantages.

GLOUCESTER. A proper jest, and never heard before, That Suffolk should demand a whole fifteenth For costs and charges in transporting her! She should have staid in France, and starved in France, Before—

CARDINAL. My Lord of Gloucester, now ye grow too hot. It was the pleasure of my lord the King.

GLOUCESTER. My Lord of Winchester, I know your mind. ’Tis not my speeches that you do mislike, But ’tis my presence that doth trouble ye. Rancour will out. Proud prelate, in thy face I see thy fury. If I longer stay, We shall begin our ancient bickerings.— 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. ’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. 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. 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!” 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, 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 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. 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 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, 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 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; 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.

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 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, 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 realms of England, France, and Ireland 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, 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, 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 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. The Duke of Gloucester’s House

Enter Duke Humphrey of 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, 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.

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, 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, 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. 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: 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.

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, 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!

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.

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.

[_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; And, being a woman, I will not be slack To play my part in Fortune’s pageant.— Where are you there? Sir John! Nay, fear not, man, We are alone; here’s none but thee and I.

Enter Hume.

HUME. Jesus preserve your royal majesty!

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, With Roger Bolingbroke, the conjurer? 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 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, 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. Dame Eleanor gives gold to bring the witch; Gold cannot come amiss, were she a devil. Yet have I gold flies from another coast. I dare not say, from the rich cardinal And from the great and new-made Duke of Suffolk, Yet I do find it so. For, to be plain, They, knowing Dame Eleanor’s aspiring humour, Have hired me to undermine the Duchess And buzz these conjurations in her brain. They say “A crafty knave does need no broker”, Yet am I Suffolk and the cardinal’s broker. Hume, if you take not heed, you shall go near To call them both a pair of crafty knaves. Well, so its stands; and thus, I fear, at last Hume’s knavery will be the Duchess’ wrack, And her attainture will be Humphrey’s fall. Sort how it will, I shall have gold for all.

[_Exit._]

SCENE III. London. The palace

Enter Peter and Petitioners.

1 PETITIONER. My masters, let’s stand close. My Lord Protector will come this way by and by, and then we may deliver our supplications in the quill.

2 PETITIONER. Marry, the Lord protect him, for he’s a good man! Jesu bless him!

Enter Suffolk and Queen.

1 PETITIONER. Here he comes, methinks, and the Queen with him. I’ll be the first, sure.

2 PETITIONER. Come back, fool! This is the Duke of Suffolk and not my Lord Protector.

SUFFOLK. How now, fellow; wouldst anything with me?

1 PETITIONER. I pray, my lord, pardon me, I took ye for my Lord Protector.

QUEEN MARGARET. [_Reading_.] “To my Lord Protector.” Are your supplications to his lordship? Let me see them. What is thine?

1 PETITIONER. Mine is, an ’t please your grace, against John Goodman, my Lord Cardinal’s man, for keeping my house and lands, and wife and all, from me.

SUFFOLK. Thy wife too! That’s some wrong, indeed.—What’s yours?—What’s here! [_Reads_.] _Against the Duke of Suffolk for enclosing the commons of Melford._ How now, sir knave!

2 PETITIONER. Alas, sir, I am but a poor petitioner of our whole township.

PETER. [_Giving his petition_.] Against my master, Thomas Horner, for saying that the Duke of York was rightful heir to the crown.

QUEEN MARGARET. What sayst thou? Did the Duke of York say he was rightful heir to the crown?

PETER. That my master was? No, forsooth, my master said that he was, and that the King was an usurper.

SUFFOLK. Who is there?

Enter Servant.

Take this fellow in, and send for his master with a pursuivant presently.—We’ll hear more of your matter before the King.

[_Exit Servant with Peter._]

QUEEN MARGARET. And as for you, that love to be protected Under the wings of our Protector’s grace, Begin your suits anew, and sue to him.

[_Tears the supplications._]

Away, base cullions!—Suffolk, let them go.

ALL. Come, let’s be gone.

[_Exeunt._]

QUEEN MARGARET. My Lord of Suffolk, say, is this the guise, Is this the fashion in the court of England? Is this the government of Britain’s isle, And this the royalty of Albion’s king? What, shall King Henry be a pupil still Under the surly Gloucester’s governance? Am I a queen in title and in style, And must be made a subject to a duke? I tell thee, Pole, when in the city Tours Thou ran’st atilt in honour of my love And stol’st away the ladies’ hearts of France, I thought King Henry had resembled thee In courage, courtship, and proportion. But all his mind is bent to holiness, To number Ave-Maries on his beads. His champions are the prophets and apostles, His weapons holy saws of sacred writ, His study is his tilt-yard, and his loves Are brazen images of canonized saints. I would the college of the cardinals Would choose him pope and carry him to Rome And set the triple crown upon his head! That were a state fit for his holiness.

SUFFOLK. Madam, be patient. As I was cause Your highness came to England, so will I In England work your grace’s full content.

QUEEN MARGARET. Beside the haughty Protector, have we Beaufort The imperious churchman, Somerset, Buckingham, And grumbling York; and not the least of these But can do more in England than the King.

SUFFOLK. And he of these that can do most of all Cannot do more in England than the Nevilles; Salisbury and Warwick are no simple peers.

QUEEN MARGARET. Not all these lords do vex me half so much As that proud dame, the Lord Protector’s wife. She sweeps it through the court with troops of ladies, More like an empress than Duke Humphrey’s wife. Strangers in court do take her for the Queen. She bears a duke’s revenues on her back, And in her heart she scorns our poverty. Shall I not live to be avenged on her? Contemptuous base-born callet as she is, She vaunted ’mongst her minions t’ other day The very train of her worst wearing gown Was better worth than all my father’s lands Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.

SUFFOLK. Madam, myself have limed a bush for her And placed a quire of such enticing birds That she will light to listen to the lays And never mount to trouble you again. So let her rest; and, madam, list to me, For I am bold to counsel you in this: Although we fancy not the Cardinal, Yet must we join with him and with the lords Till we have brought Duke Humphrey in disgrace. As for the Duke of York, this late complaint Will make but little for his benefit. So, one by one, we’ll weed them all at last, And you yourself shall steer the happy helm.

Sound a sennet. Enter the King, Gloucester, Cardinal Beaufort, Somerset, Buckingham, Salisbury, York, Warwick and the Duchess of Gloucester.

KING HENRY. For my part, noble lords, I care not which; Or Somerset or York, all’s one to me.

YORK. If York have ill demeaned himself in France, Then let him be denied the regentship.

SOMERSET. If Somerset be unworthy of the place, Let York be regent; I will yield to him.

WARWICK. Whether your Grace be worthy, yea or no, Dispute not that; York is the worthier.

CARDINAL. Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.

WARWICK. The Cardinal’s not my better in the field.

BUCKINGHAM. All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick.

WARWICK. Warwick may live to be the best of all.

SALISBURY. Peace, son!—And show some reason, Buckingham, Why Somerset should be preferred in this.

QUEEN MARGARET. Because the King, forsooth, will have it so.

GLOUCESTER. Madam, the King is old enough himself To give his censure. These are no women’s matters.

QUEEN MARGARET. If he be old enough, what needs your grace To be Protector of his excellence?

GLOUCESTER. Madam, I am Protector of the realm, And at his pleasure will resign my place.

SUFFOLK. Resign it then, and leave thine insolence. Since thou wert king—as who is king but thou?— The commonwealth hath daily run to wrack, The Dauphin hath prevailed beyond the seas, And all the peers and nobles of the realm Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty.

CARDINAL. The commons hast thou racked; the clergy’s bags Are lank and lean with thy extortions.

SOMERSET. Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife’s attire Have cost a mass of public treasury.

BUCKINGHAM. Thy cruelty in execution Upon offenders hath exceeded law, And left thee to the mercy of the law.

QUEEN MARGARET. Thy sale of offices and towns in France, If they were known, as the suspect is great, Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.

[_Exit Gloucester. The Queen drops her fan._]

Give me my fan. What minion! Can ye not?

[_She gives the Duchess a box on the ear._]

I cry your mercy, madam; was it you?

ELEANOR. Was’t I! Yea, I it was, proud Frenchwoman. Could I come near your beauty with my nails, I’d set my ten commandments in your face.

KING HENRY. Sweet aunt, be quiet; ’twas against her will.

ELEANOR. Against her will! Good King, look to ’t in time; She’ll hamper thee and dandle thee like a baby. Though in this place most master wear no breeches, She shall not strike Dame Eleanor unrevenged.

[_Exit._]

BUCKINGHAM. Lord Cardinal, I will follow Eleanor, And listen after Humphrey, how he proceeds. She’s tickled now; her fume needs no spurs, She’ll gallop far enough to her destruction.

[_Exit._]

Enter Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER. Now, lords, my choler being overblown With walking once about the quadrangle, I come to talk of commonwealth affairs. As for your spiteful false objections, Prove them, and I lie open to the law; But God in mercy so deal with my soul As I in duty love my king and country! But, to the matter that we have in hand: I say, my sovereign, York is meetest man To be your regent in the realm of France.

SUFFOLK. Before we make election, give me leave To show some reason, of no little force, That York is most unmeet of any man.

YORK. I’ll tell thee, Suffolk, why I am unmeet: First, for I cannot flatter thee in pride; Next, if I be appointed for the place, My Lord of Somerset will keep me here Without discharge, money, or furniture, Till France be won into the Dauphin’s hands. Last time, I danced attendance on his will Till Paris was besieged, famished, and lost.

WARWICK. That can I witness, and a fouler fact Did never traitor in the land commit.

SUFFOLK. Peace, headstrong Warwick!

WARWICK. Image of pride, why should I hold my peace?

Enter Horner the armourer and his man Peter, guarded.

SUFFOLK. Because here is a man accused of treason. Pray God the Duke of York excuse himself!

YORK. Doth anyone accuse York for a traitor?

KING HENRY. What mean’st thou, Suffolk? Tell me, what are these?

SUFFOLK. Please it your majesty, this is the man That doth accuse his master of high treason. His words were these: that Richard, Duke of York Was rightful heir unto the English crown, And that your majesty was an usurper.

KING HENRY. Say, man, were these thy words?

HORNER. An ’t shall please your majesty, I never said nor thought any such matter. God is my witness, I am falsely accused by the villain.

PETER. By these ten bones, my lords, he did speak them to me in the garret one night as we were scouring my Lord of York’s armour.

YORK. Base dunghill villain and mechanical, I’ll have thy head for this thy traitor’s speech!— I do beseech your royal majesty, Let him have all the rigour of the law.