As he will have me, how am I so poor?

Or how haps it I seek not to advance

Or raise myself, but keep my wonted calling?

And for dissension, who preferreth peace

More than I do ?—except I be provoked.

No, my good lords, it is not that offends;

It is not that that hath incensed the Duke.

It is because no one should sway but he,

No one but he should be about the King—

And that engenders thunder in his breast

And makes him roar these accusations forth.

But he shall know I am as good—

GLOUCESTER As good?—

Thou bastard of my grandfather.

WINCHESTER

Ay, lordly sir; for what are you, I pray,

But one imperious in another’s throne?

GLOUCESTER

Am I not Protector, saucy priest?

WINCHESTER

And am not I a prelate of the Church?

GLOUCESTER

Yes—as an outlaw in a castle keeps

And useth it to patronage his theft.

WINCHESTER

Unreverent Gloucester.

GLOUCESTER Thou art reverend

Touching thy spiritual function, not thy life.

WINCHESTER

Rome shall remedy this.

⌈GLOUCESTER⌉ Roam thither then.

⌈WARWICK⌉ (to Winchester)

My lord, it were your duty to forbear.

SOMERSET

Ay, so the bishop be not overborne:

Methinks my lord should be religious,

And know the office that belongs to such.

WARWICK

Methinks his lordship should be humbler.

It fitteth not a prelate so to plead.

SOMERSET

Yes, when his holy state is touched so near.

WARWICK

State holy or unhallowed, what of that?

Is not his grace Protector to the King?

RICHARD PLANTAGENET (aside)

Plantagenet, I see, must hold his tongue,

Lest it be said, ‘Speak, sirrah, when you should;

Must your bold verdict intertalk with lords?’

Else would I have a fling at Winchester.

KING HENRY

Uncles of Gloucester 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

⌈SERVINGMEN⌉ (within) Down with the tawny coats!

KING HENRY

What tumult’s this?

WARWICK An uproar, I dare warrant,

Begun through malice of the Bishop’s men.

A noise again

⌈SERVINGMEN⌉ (within) Stones, stones!

Enter the Mayor of London

MAYOR

O my good lords, and virtuous Henry,

Pity the city of London, pity us! so

The Bishop and the Duke of Gloucester’s men,

Forbidden late to carry any weapon,

Have filled their pockets full of pebble stones

And, banding themselves in contrary parts,

Do pelt so fast at one another’s pate

That many have their giddy brains knocked out.

Our windows are broke down in every street,

And we for fear compelled to shut our shops.

Enter in skirmish, with bloody pates, Winchester’s Servingmen in tawny coats and Gloucester’s in blue coats

KING HENRY

We charge you, on allegiance to ourself,

To hold your slaught’ring hands and keep the peace.

⌈The skirmish ceases⌉

Pray, Uncle Gloucester, mitigate this strife.

FIRST SERVINGMAN Nay, if we be forbidden stones, we’ll fall to it with our teeth.

SECOND SERVINGMAN

Do what ye dare, we are as resolute.

Skirmish again

GLOUCESTER

You of my household, leave this peevish broil,

And set this unaccustomed fight aside.

THIRD SERVINGMAN

My lord, we know your grace to be a man

Just and upright and, for your royal birth,

Inferior to none but to 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,

We and our wives and children all will fight

And have our bodies slaughtered by thy foes.

FIRST SERVINGMAN

Ay, and the very parings of our nails

Shall pitch a field when we are dead.

They begin to skirmish again

GLOUCESTER Stay, stay, I say!

An if you love me as you say you do,

Let me persuade you to forbear a while.

KING HENRY

O how this discord doth afflict my soul!

Can you, my lord of Winchester, behold o

My sighs and tears, and will not once relent?

Who should be pitiful if you be not?

Or who should study to prefer a peace,

If holy churchmen take delight in broils?

WARWICK

Yield, my lord Protector; yield, Winchester—

Except you mean with obstinate repulse

To slay your sovereign and destroy the realm.

You see what mischief-and what murder, too—

Hath been enacted through your enmity.

Then be at peace, except ye thirst for blood.

WINCHESTER

He shall submit, or I will never yield.

GLOUCESTER

Compassion on the King commands me stoop,

Or I would see his heart out ere the priest

Should ever get that privilege of me.

WARWICK

Behold, my lord of Winchester, the Duke

Hath banished moody discontented fury,

As by his smoothed brows it doth appear.

Why look you still so stern and tragical?

GLOUCESTER

Here, Winchester, I offer thee my hand.

KING HENRY (to Winchester)

Fie, Uncle Beaufort! I have heard you preach

That malice was a great and grievous sin;

And will not you maintain the thing you teach,