very train of her worst wearing gown
Was better worth than all my father's lands,
Till Suffolk gave two dukedoms for his daughter.
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.
For my part, noble lords, I care not which;
Or Somerset or York, all's one to me.
If York have ill demean'd himself in France,
Then let him be denay'd the regentship.
If Somerset be unworthy of the place,
Let York be regent; I will yield to him.
Whether your grace be worthy, yea or no,
Dispute not that: York is the worthier.
Ambitious Warwick, let thy betters speak.
The cardinal's not my better in the field.
All in this presence are thy betters, Warwick.
Warwick may live to be the best of all.
Peace, son! and show some reason, Buckingham,
Why Somerset should be preferred in this.
Because the king, forsooth, will have it so.
Madam, the king is old enough himself
To give his censure: these are no women's matters.
If he be old enough, what needs your grace
To be protector of his excellence?
Madam, I am protector of the realm;
And, at his pleasure, will resign my place.
Resign it then and leave thine insolence.
Since thou wert king--as who is king but thou?--
The commonwealth hath daily run to wreck;
The Dauphin hath prevail'd beyond the seas;
And all the peers and nobles of the realm
Have been as bondmen to thy sovereignty.
The commons hast thou rack'd; the clergy's bags
Are lank and lean with thy extortions.
Thy sumptuous buildings and thy wife's attire
Have cost a mass of public treasury.
Thy cruelty in execution
Upon offenders, hath exceeded law,
And left thee to the mercy of the law.
They sale of offices and towns in France,
If they were known, as the suspect is great,
Would make thee quickly hop without thy head.
Give me my fan: what, minion! can ye not?
I cry you mercy, madam; was it you?
Was't I!