Where be thefe warders, that they wait not here? 1 Ward. Who's there, that knocketh so imperiously? 1 Man. It is the noble Duke of Gloucefter. 2 Ward. Who e'er he be, you may not be let in. 1 Man. Villains, anfwer you fo the Lord Protector? 1 Ward. The Lord protect him! fo we answer him; We do no otherwife than we are will'd. Glou. Who willed you? or whose will stands, but There's none Protector of the realm but I. [mine? Break up the gates, I'll be your warrantize; Shall I be flouted thus by dunghill grooms? Gloucefter's men rush at the Tower-gates, and Woodvile the Lieutenant fpeaks within. Wood. What noife is this? what traitors have we here? Glou Lieutenant, is it you, whose voice I hear? Open the gates; here's Glofter, that would enter. Wood. Have patience, noble Duke; I may not open; The Cardinal of Winchefter forbids; From him I have exprefs commandment, That thou, nor none of thine, fhall be let in. Glou Faint-hearted Woodvile, prizest him 'fore me? Arrogant Winchefter, that haughty prelate, Whom Henry, our late Sovereign, ne'er could brook? Serv. Open the gates there to the Lord Protector; We'll burlt them open, if you come not quickly. ̧ Enter to the Protector at the Tower-gates, Winchester and his men in tawny coats. Win. How now, ambitious Umpire, what means [fhut out? Glou. Piel'd Prieft, doft thou command me be this? * Piel'd Prief, -] Alluding to his fhaven Crown, a Metaphor from a peel'd Orange. Mr. Pope. Win. I do, thou most usurping proditor, Glou. Stand back, thou manifeft confpirator; Win. Nay, ftand thou back, I will not budge a foot: This be Damafcus, be thou curfed Cain, To flay thy brother Abel, if thou wilt. Glou. I will not flay thee, but I'll drive thee back; Thy fcarlet robes, as a child's bearing cloth, I'll ufe to carry thee out of this place. Win. Do, what thou dar'ft; I beard thee to thy face. Glou. What? am I dar'd, and bearded to my face? Draw, men, for all this privileged place. Blue coats to tawny. Prieft, beware thy beard; Here Gloucefter's men beat out the Cardinal's; and enter in the hurly-burly the Mayor of London, and his Officers. Mayor. Fy, lords; that you, being supreme magiftrates, Thus contumeliously fhould break the peace! Glou. Peace, Mayor, for thou know'ft little of my wrongs: Here's Beauford, that regards not God nor King, Win. Here's Giofler too, a foe to citizens, One One that still motions war, and never peace, Because he is Protector of the realm; And would have armour here out of the Tower, Come, officer, as loud as e'er thou canft. All manner of men effembled here in arms this day, against God's peace and the King's, we charge and command you in his Highness's name, to repair to your feveral dwelling places; and not wear, handle, or use any fword, weapon, or dagger henceforward upon pain of Death. Glou. Cardinal, I'll be no breaker of the law: But we shall meet, and tell our minds at large. Win. Glofter, we'll meet to thy dear coft, be fure ; Thy heart-blood I will have for this day's work. Mayor. I'll call for clubs, if you will not away : This Cardinal is more haughty than the devil. Glou. Mayor, farewel: thou doft but what thou may'ft. Win. Abominable Glofter, guard thy head, For I intend to have it, ere be long. [Exeunt. Mayor. See the coast clear'd, and then we will de part. [bear! Offic. Good God! that nobles fhould such stomachs I myself fight not once in forty year. [Exeunt. Enter the Mafter-gunner of Orleans, and his Boy. IRRAH, thou know'ft how Orleans is befieg'd, M. Gun. SIRRA And how the English have the fuburbs won. Boy. Boy. Father, I know, and oft have shot at them, How e'er, unfortunate, I miss'd my aim. M. Gun. But now thou shalt not. by me: Be thou rul'd Chief Mafter-gunner am I of this town, A piece of ord'nance 'gainst it I have plac'd; If thou spy'it any, run and bring me word, [Exit. Boy. Father, I warrant you; take you no care; I'll never trouble you, if I may spy them. SCENE IX. Enter Salisbury and Talbot on the turrets, with others. Once, in contempt, they would have barter'd me: In fine, redeem'd I was, as I defir'd. But, oh! the treach'rous Faftolfe wounds my heart; Whom with my bare fifis I would execute, If I now had him brought into my pow'r. Sal. Yet tell'ft thou not, how thou wert entertain'd. Tal. With fcoffs and scorns, and contumelious In open market-place produc'd they me, To be a public fpectacle to all. [taunts, Here, faid they, is the terror of the French; And with my nails digg'd flones out of the ground, Enter the Boy, with a Linflock. Sal. I grieve to hear what torments you endur'd, But we will be reveng'd fufficiently. Now it is fupper-time in Orleans: Here thro' this grate I can count every one, Where is belt place to make our batt'ry next? [Here they fhoot, and Salisbury falls down. Sal. |