YORK

As I have read, our Kings of England were wont to have large dowries with their wives, but our king Henry gives away his own. Anioy and Main, both given unto the French, Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, Even as I have of fertile England. A day will come when York shall claim his own, And therefore I will take the Neuels parts, And make a show of love to proud Duke Humphrey: And when I spy advantage, claim the Crown, For thats 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 a while 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 deer bought Queen, And Humphrey with the Peers be fallen at jars, Then will I raise aloft the milkwhite Rose, With whose sweet smell the air shall be perfumed, And in my Standard bear the Arms of York, To graffle with the house of Lancaster: And force perforce, I'll make him yield the Crown, Whose bookish rule hath pulled fair England down. My lord, if York have ill demeande himself, Let Somerset enjoy his place, and go to France. I'll tell thee Suffolk why I am not worthy, Because I cannot slatter as thou canst. Thanks noble Warwick, and York does hope to see The Earl of Warwick live, to be the greatest man in Eng land but the King. Come lets go. Well Madame, sith your grace is so content, Let me have some bans of chosen soldiers, And York shall try his fortune gainst those Kerns. I beseech your grace let him have what punishment the law will afford, for his villainy. I beseech your grace let him have the law. Come sirs, lay hands on them, and bind them sure, This time was well watched: what Madame, are you there? This will be great credit for your husband, That you are plotting treasons thus with Conjurers, The King shall have a notice of this thing. Give it me my Lord, isle show it to the King: Go sirs, see them fast locked in prison. Content away then, about it straight. Who's within there? Sitra, go will the Earl of Salsbury and Warwick to sup with me to night. My lords, our simple supper ended, thus Let me reveal unto your honours here, The right and title of the house of York, To England's Crown by lineal descent. Then thus my lords. Edward the third had seven sons, The first was Edward the black Prince, Prince of Wales. The second was Edmund of Langley, Duke of York. The third was Lyonell Duke of Clarence. The fourth was John of Gaunt, The Duke of Lancaster. The fifth was Roger Mortemer, Earl of March. The sixth was sir Thomas of Woodstock. William of Winsore was the seventh and last. Now, Edward the black prince he died before his father, & left behind him Richard, that afterwards was King, crowned by the name of Richard the second, and he died without and heir. Edmund of Langly duke of York died, and left behind him two daughters, Anne and Elinor. Lionel duke of Clarence died, and left behind, Alice, Anne, and Elinor, that was after married to my father, and by her I claim the Crown, as the true heir to Lyonell Duke of Clarence the third son to Edward the third. Now sir. In the time of Richard's reign, Henry of Bullenbrooke, son and heir to John of Gaunt, the Duke of Lancaster, fourth son to Edward the third he claimde the crown, deposed the mirth full King, and as you both know, in Pomphret Castle harmless Richard was shamefully murdered, and so by Richard's death came the house of Lancaster unto the Crown. True, but so it fortuned then, by means of that mon strous rebel Glendor, the noble Duke of York was done to death, and so ever since the heirs of John of Gaunt have pos sessed the Crown. But if the issue of the elder should succeed before the issue of the younger then am I lawful heir unto the kingdom. I thank you both: but lords, I am not your king, until this sword be sheathed even in the heart blood of the house of Lancaster. Please it your majesty, this is the day That was appointed for the combating, Between the Armourer and his man, my Lord, And they are ready when your grace does please. Cold news for me, for I had hope of France, Even as I have of fertile England. It very good, that my Lord of Somerset That fortunate champion were sent over. To keep in awe the stubborn Irishmen, He did so much good when he was in France. Yea, for York would have lost his life before That should have revolted from England's rule. What worse then nought, then a shame take all. At Bristol, I will expect them ten days hence. Adieu my Lord of Buckingham. Now York bethink thy self and rouse thee up, Take time while it is offered thee so fair, Lest when thou wouldst, thou canst not it attain, It men I lacked, and now they give them me, And now while I am busy in Ireland, I have seduede a head strong Kentish man, John Cade of Ashford, Under the title of sir John Mortimer, To raise commotion, and by that means, I shall perceive how the common people, Do affect the claim and house of York, Then if he have success in his affairs, From Ireland then comes York again, To reap the harvest which that coystril sowed, Now if he should be taken and condemned, Heel never confess that I did set him on, And therefore ere I go, isle send him word, To put in practice and to gather head, That so soon as I am gone, he may begin To rise in Arms with troops of country swains: To help him to perform this enterprise, And then Duke Humprhey, he well made away, None then can stop the light to England's crown, But York can tame and headlong pull them down. exit York. Then the curtains being drawn, Duke Humphrey is discovered in his bed, and two men lying on his breast and smothering him in his bed: and then enter the Duke of Suffolk to them. In Arms from Ireland comes York amain, Ring Bells' aloud, bonfires perfume the air, To entertain fair England's royal King: Ah sancta Maiesta, who would not buy thee deer? But soft, who comes here? Buckingham, what news with him Upon thine honour is it so? Then before thy face, I here dismiss my troops, Sirs, meet me to morrow in saint Georges fields, And there you shall receive your pay of me. Who's that? proud Somerset at liberty? Base fearful Henry that thus dishonor'st me, By heaven, thou shalt not govern over me, I cannot brook that traitors presence here, Nor will I subject be to such a King, That knows not how to govern, nor to rule, Resign thy crown proud Lancaster to me, That thou usurped hast so long by force, For now is York resolu'de to claim his own, And rise aloft into fair England's Throne. Thou art deceived, my sons shall be my bail, And send thee there in spite of him. Ho, where are you boys? We thank thee Clifford: Nay, do not affright us with thy looks, If thou didst mistake, we pardon thee, kneel again. How say you boys, will you not? Call hither to the stake, my two rough bears. Call Buckingham, and all the friends thou hast, Both thou and they shall curse this fatal hour. The deadly hand of Clifford, noble lord, Five horse this day, slain under me, And yet brave Warwick I remain alive, But I did kill his horse he lou' de so well, The bouiest grey that ere was bred in North. Enter Clifford, and Warwick offers to fight with him. Hold War wick, and seek thee out some other chase My self will hunt this Dear to death. Now Clifford, since we are singled here alone, Be this the day of Doom to one of us, For now my heart hath sworn immortal hate To thee, and all the house of Eancaster. Now Lancaster fit sure, thy sinews shrink, Come fearful Henry groveling on thy face, Yield up thy Crown unto the Prince of York. How now boys, fortunate this fight hath been, I hope to us and ours for England's good, And our great honour, that so we lost, While faintheart Henry, did usurp our rights: But did you see old Salsbury since we With bloody minds did buckle with the foe, I would not for the lose of this right hand, That ought but well betide that good old man. What say you Lords, the King is fled to London There (as I hear) to hold a Parliament. What says Lord Warwick, shall we after them? 'Tis thought my lord, your grace took bribes from France, And stopped the soldiers of their pay, By which his majesty hath lost all France. Then do it suddenly my Lords. Humphrey of Buckingham, welcome I swear, What comest thou in love, or as a messenger? A subject as he is! Oh how I hate these spiteful abject terms, But York, dissemble till thou meet thy sons, Who now in Arms expect their father's sighed, And far hence I know they cannot be: Humphrey Duke of Buckingham, pardon me, That I answered not at first, my mind was troubled, I came to remove that monstrons rebel Cade, And heave proud Somerset from out the Court, That bafely yielded up the towns in France.