GLOUCESTER

England never had a King until his time: Virtue he had, deserving to command, His brandished Sword did blind men with his beams, His Arms spread wider then a Dragons Wings: His sparkling Eyes, repleat with wrathful fire, More dazzled and drove back his Enemies, Then midday Sun, fierce bent against their faces. What should I say? his Deeds exceed all speech: He never lift up his Hand, but conquered. The Church? where is it? Had not Churchmen prayed, His thread of Life had not so soon decayed. None do you Like, but and effeminate Prince, Whom Like a Schoolboy you may overawe. Name not Religion, for thou lovest the Flesh, And never throughout the year to Church thou goest, Except it be to pray against thy foes. We will not fly, but to our enemies throats. Bedford, if thou be slack, I'll fight it out. I'll to the Tower with all the hast I can, To view the Artillery and Munition, And then I will proclaim young Henry King. I am come to survey the Tower this day; Since Henries death, I fear there is Conveyance: Where be these Warders, that they wait not here? Open the Gates, it's Gloucester that calls. Fainthearted Wooduile, prizest him before me? Arrogant Winchester, that haughty Prelate, Whom Henry our late Sovereign never could brook? Thou art no friend to God, or to the King: Open the Gates, or I'll shut thee out shortly. Piel'd Priest, dost thou command me to be shut out? Stand back thou manifest Conspirator, Thou that contriued'st to murder our dead Lord, Thou that givest Whores Indulgences to sin, I'll canvas thee in thy broad Cardinals Hat, If thou proceed in this thy insolence. I will not slay thee, but I'll driven thee back: Thy Scarlet Robes, as a Child's bearing Cloth, I'll use, to carry thee out of this place. What? am I dared, and bearded to my face? Draw men, for all this privileged place, Blue Coats to Tawny Coats, Priest, beware your Beard, I mean to tug it, and to cuff you soundly. Under my feet I stamp thy Cardinals Hat: In spite of Pope, or dignities of Church, Here by the Cheeks I'll drag thee up and down. Winchester Goose, I cry, a Rope, a Rope. Now Beatrice them hence, why do you let them stay? Thee I'll chase hence, thou Wolf in Sheeps array. Out Tawney-Coates, out Scarlet Hypocrite. Peace Mayor, thou knowest little of my wrongs: Here's Beauford, that regards nor God nor King, Hath here distrayn'd the Tower to his use. I will not answer thee with words, but blows. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the Law: But we shall meet, and break our minds at large. Mayor farewell: thou dost but what thou mayest. Am I not Protector, saucy Priest? Thou art reverent, Touching thy Spiritual Function, not thy Life. You of my household, leave this peevish broil, And set this unaccustomed fight aside. Stay, stay, I say: And if you love me, as you say you do, Let me persuade you to forbear a while. Compassion on the King commands me stoop, Or I would see his heart out, ere the Priest Should ever get that privilege of me. Here Winchester, I offer thee my Hand. I, but I fear me with a hollow Heart. See here my Friends and loving Countrymen, This token serveth for a Flag of Truce, Betwixt our selves, and all our followers: So help me God, as I dissemble not. Now will it best avail your Majesty, To cross the Seas, and to be Crowned in France: The presence of a King engenders love Amongst his Subjects, and his loyal Friends, As it dis-animates his Enemies. Your Ships already are in readiness. Is Paris lost? is Roan yielded up? If Henry were recalled to life again, These news would cause him once more yield the Ghost. Who willed you? or whose will stands but mine? There's none Protector of the Realm, but I: Break up the Gates, I'll be your warrantise; Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill Grooms? Lieutenant, is it you whose voice I hear? Open the Gates, here's Gloucester that would enter. As good? Thou Bastard of my Grandfather. Yes, as and Outlaw in a Castle keeps, And uses it, to patronage his Theft. Yes, if it please your Majesty, my Liege Presumptuous Priest, this place continued ̄ mands my paty ̄ ce, Or thou shouldst find thou hast dishonoured me. Think not, although in Writing I preferred The manner of thy vile outrageous Crimes, That therefore I have forged, or am not able Ʋ erbatim to rehearse the Method of my Pen. No Prelate, such is thy audacious wickedness, Thy lewd, pestiserous, and dissentious pranks, As very Infants prattle of thy pride. Thou art a most pernicious Usurer, Froward by nature, Enemy to Peace, Lascivious, wanton, more then well beseems A man of thy Profession, and Degree. And for thy Treachery, what's more manifest? In that thou laidst a Trap to take my Life, As well at London Bridge, as at the Tower. Beside, I fear me, if thy thoughts were sifted, The King, thy Sovereign, is not quite exempt From envious malice of thy swelling heart. Well urged, my Lord of Warwick: for sweet Prince, And if your Grace mark every circumstance, You have great reason to do Richard right, Especially for those occasions At Eltam Place I told your Majesty. Lord Bishop set the Crown upon his head. Now Governor of Paris take your oath, That you elect no other King but him; Esteem none Friends, but such as are his Friends, And none your Foes, but such as shall pretend Malicious practises against his State: This shall you do, so help you righteous God. To say the truth, this fact was infamous, And ill beseeming any common man; Much more a Knight, a Captain, and a Leader. What means his Grace, that he hath changed his Style? No more but plain and bluntly? (To the King.) Hath he forgotten he is his Sovereign? Or does this churlish Superscription Pretend some alteration in good will? What's here? I have upon especial cause, Moved with compassion of my Countries wrack, Together with the pitiful complaints Of such as your oppression feeds upon, Forsaken your pernicious Faction, And joined with Charles, the rightful king of France. Oh monstrous Treachery: Can this be so? That in alliance, amity, and oaths, There should be found such false dissembling guile? He does my Lord, and is become your foe. It is the worst, and all (my Lord) he writes. Confirm it so? Confounded be your strife, And perish you with your audacious prate, Presumptuous vassals, are you not ashamed With this immodest clamorous outrage, To trouble and disturb the King, and Us? And you my Lords, me thinks you do not well To bear with their perverse Objections: Much less to take occasion from their mouths, To raise a mutiny betwixt your selves. Let me persuade you take a better course. I have my Lord, and their intent is this, They humbly sue unto your Excellence, To have a godly peace concluded of, Between the Realms of England, and of France. Well (my good Lord) and as the only means To stop effusion of our Christian blood, And establish quietness on every side. Beside my Lord, the sooner to effect, And surer bind this knot of amity, The Earl of Arminacke near knit to Charles, A man of great Authority in France, Proffers his only daughter to your Grace, In marriage, with a large and sumptuous Dowry. And for the proffer of my Lord your Master, I have informed his Highness so at large, As liking of the Ladies virtuous gifts, Her Beauty, and the value of her Dower, He does intend she shall be England's Queen. So should I give consent to flatter sin, You know (my Lord) your Highness is betrothed Unto another Lady of esteem, How shall we then dispense with that contract, And not deface your Honour with reproach? And so the Earl of Arminacke may do, Because he is near Kinsman unto Charles. I grief I fear me, both at first and last. Why what (I pray) is Margaret more then that? Her Father is no better than and Earl, Although in glorious Titles he excel.