-Well, I will lock his counsel in my breast; 3 Or make my Ill th' advantage of my Good. [Exit, ACT III. SCENE I: The PARLIAMENT. Flourish. Enter King Henry, Exeter, Gloucester, Winchefter, Warwick, Somerfet, Suffolk, and Richard Plantagenet. Gloucester offers to put up a Bill: Winchefter fnatches it, and tears it. C WINCHESTER. OM'ST thou with deep premeditated lines, As I with fudden and extemporal fpeech Glou. Prefumptuous Prieft, this place commands my patience, Or thou fhouldft find, thou haft difhonour'd me. The manner of thy vile outragious crimes, The The King thy Sovereign is not quite exempt Glou. As good? Thou baftard of my grandfather! Win. Ay, lordly Sir; for what are you, But one imperious in another's throne? Glou. Am not I then Protector, faucy priest? Win. And am not I a prelate of the Church? Glou. Yes, as an out-law in a castle keeps, And uses it to patronage his theft. Win. Unrev'rend Glo'fter! Glou. Thou art reverend Touching thy fpiritual function, not thy life. War. Roam thither then. Som. My Lord, it were your duty to forbear. War. Ay, fee, the Bifhop be not over-borne. Som. Methinks, my Lord fhould be religious; And know the office that belongs to fuch. War. Methinks, his Lordship fhould be humbler then; It fitteth not a prelate fo to plead. Som. Yes, when his holy ftate is touch'd so near. War. War. State, holy or unhallow'd, what of that? Rich. Plantagenet, I fee, muft hold his tongue; K. Henry. Uncles of Glo'fter, and of Winchester, That gnaws the bowels of the Common-wealth. [A noife within; Down with the tawny coats. K. Henry. What tumult's this? War. An uproar, I dare warrant, Begun thro' malice of the Bishop's men. [A noife again, Stones, Stones. Mayor. Oh, my good Lords, and virtuous Henry, Pity the city of London, pity us, The Bishop and the Duke of Glofter's men, Forbidden late to carry any weapon, Have fill'd their pockets full of pebble ftones, That many have their giddy brains knock'd out; Enter men in Skirmish with bloody pates. K. Henry. We charge you on allegiance to ourselves, To hold your flaught'ring hands, and keep the peace. -Pray, uncle Glofter, mitigate this ftrife. 1 Serv. Nay, if we be forbidden ftones, we'll fall to it with our teeth. 2 Serv. Do what ye dare, we are as refolute. [Skirmish again. Glou. You of my houfhold, leave this peevish broil; And let this unaccustom'd fight aside. 3 Serv. My Lord, we know your Grace to be a man Jult and upright, and for your royal birth Inferior to none but to his Majefty; And ere that we will fuffer fuch a Prince, So kind a father of the Common-weal, 4 To be difgraced by an Inkhorn mate, We, and our wives, and children, all will fight: 1 Serv. Ay, and the very parings of our nails And if you love me, as you fay you do, Let me perfuade you to forbear awhile. [Begin again. K. Henry. O, how this difcord doth afflict my foul! Can you, my Lord of Winchester, behold My fighs and tears, and will not once relent? Or who should ftudy to prefer a peace, If holy churchmen take delight in broils? War. My Lord Protector, yield, yield, Winchester, Except you mean with obftinate repulfe To lay your Sovereign, and deftroy the Realm.. decent. Unaccustomed is unfeemly, in 4 An Inkborn mate.] A Book man. Hath |