With written pamphlets studiously devis'd, my patience, Or thou should'st find thou hast dishonour'd me. Win. Gloster, I do defy thee.-Lords, vouchsafe As good? But he shall know, I am as good- Thou bastard of my grandfather! Win. Ay, lordly sir; For what are you, I pray, But one imperious in another's throne?" Glo. Am I not the protector, saucy priest? Win. And am I not a prelate of the church? Glo. Yes, as an outlaw in a castle keeps, And useth it to patronage his theft. Win. Unreverent Gloster! Glo. Thou art reverent Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life. War. Roam thither then. Som. My lord, it were your duty to forbear. And know the office that belongs to such. War. Methinks, his lordship should be humbler; It fitteth not a prelate so to plead. Som. Yes, when his holy state is touch'd so near. War. State holy, or unhallow'd, what of that? Is not his grace protector to the king? Plan. Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue; Lest it be said, Speak, sirrah, when you should; Must your bold verdict enter talk with lords? Else would I have a fling at Winchester. [Aside. K. Hen. Uncles of Gloster, and of Winchester, The special watchmen of our English weal; I would prevail, if prayers might prevail, To join your hearts in love and amity. O, what a scandal is it to our crown, That two such noble peers as ye, should jar! Believe me, lords, my tender years can tell, Civil dissension is a viperous worm, That gnaws the bowels of the commonwealth. [A noise within; Down with the tawny coats! What tumult's this? War. An uproar, I dare warrant, [A noise again; Stones! stones! Begun through malice of the bishop's men. Enter the Mayor of London, attended. May. O, my good lords, and virtuous Henry,Pity the city of London, pity us! The bishop and the duke of Gloster's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble-stones; And, banding themselves in contráry parts, Do pelt so fast at one another's pate, That many have their giddy brains knock'd out: Our windows are broke down in every street, And we, for fear, compell'd to shut our shops. Enter, skirmishing, the retainers of Gloster and Winchester, with bloody pates. K. Hen. Wecharge you, on allegiance to ourself, To hold your slaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. Pray, uncle Gloster, mitigate this strife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be Forbidden stones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as resolute. [Skirmish again. Glo. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, And set this unaccustom'd1 fight aside. 3 Serv. My lord, we know your grace to be a man Just and upright; and, for your royal birth, Inferior to none, but his majesty: And ere that we will suffer such a prince, So kind a father of the commonweal, To be disgraced by an inkhorn mate,2 We, and our wives, and children, all will fight, And have our bodies slaughter'd by thy foes. 1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails (1) Unseemly, indecent. (2) This was a term of reproach towards men of learning. [Skirmish again. Shall pitch a field, when we are dead. Glo. Stay, stay, I say! And, if you love me, as you say you do, K. Hen. O, how this discord doth afflict my soul! Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold War. My lord protector, yield;-yield, Win- War. Behold, my lord of Winchester, the duke Hath banish'd moody discontented fury, As by his smoothed brows it doth appear: Why look you still so stern, and tragical? Glo. Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand. K. Hen. Fie, uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach, That malice was a great and grievous sin : War. Sweet king!-the bishop hath a kindly gird.1 For shame, my lord of Winchester! relent; What, shall a child instruct you what to do? Win. Well, duke of Gloster, I will yield to thee; (1) Feels an emotion of kind remorse. Love for thy love, and hand for hand, I give. See here, my friends, and loving countrymen; Win. So help me God, as I intend it not! [Aside. K. Hen. O loving uncle, kind duke of Gloster, How joyful am I made by this contráct!Away, my masters! trouble us no more; But join in friendship, as your lords have done. 1 Serv. Content; I'll to the surgeon's. 2 Serv. And so will I. 3 Serv. And I will see what physic the tavern affords. [Exeunt Servants, Mayor, &c. War. Accept this scroll, most gracious sovereign; Which in the right of Richard Plantagenet We do exhibit to your majesty. Glo. Well urg'd, my lord of Warwick; for, sweet prince, An if your grace mark every circumstance, At Eltham-place I told your majesty. K. Hen. And those occasions, uncle, were of force: Therefore, my loving lords, our pleasure is, War. Let Richard be restored to his blood; my foot; |